#we r .... undead

[yen-sids-tournament]

The Horned King v Turbo/King Candy

Propaganda:

The Horned King:

"He's an undead skeleton raising an army of undead skeletons AND he has a terrible temper. He's terrifying in every scene he's in!"

This movie bombed because it was scary. Because even Disney couldn't lighten this villain up.

Turbo/King Candy:

"He's not the first twist villain, but he is THE twist villain - carefully built up with references throughout the film, referred to in hushed, almost superstitious tones, and then revealed as a manipulative madman glossing himself over with a thin candy-shell of care and concern. And all this is BEFORE he tries to bludgeon a child on a speeding go-kart and BEFORE he morphs into the nightmare Candybug still intent on killing Ralph and this one child and happy to see yet another world destroyed so long as he gets his way and is preserved himself! He's scary and HUGELY entertain, and deserves to be King here too!"

[endawn]

rivalt & pax: @storyhaunt

kiss your local vampire knight

[sir-cabbage1]

Me and my Red Dead Redemption: Undead Nightmare map

[thatinsanefagfromartschool]

i decided ti watch the friday 13th movies cause BIG MAN, most r pretty lame objectively but slay lol (literally)

[tyrannuspitch]

i need to think more about asgardian religion. but i also need to sleep. but ummm thor's faith as a fundamental need vs thor's willingness to radically rebel and leave everything behind vs thor's awful tragic soul-crushing life vs loki's tendencies towards doubt and nihilism vs loki's occasional stark black and white patriotism vs loki condemning himself while thor refuses to let him go while their RELIGION apparently condemns him too..... i am rotating it all in my mind

i know it's loki who says of himself he wld go to hel even after an honourable death and he's maybe not the most reliable source, like maybe there ARE interpretations by which valhalla is not Just Point Blank Space Racist... but i am also just Intrigued by the possibility of a thor who DOES think loki is Fundamentally Damned but loves him regardless

[harmonicunt]

tokyo ghoul mutuals i fucking love you

[carlsangel]

CAUGHT

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you wouldn’t believe who catches you and carl.)

tags: smut, oral sex (r!receiving)

masterlist here!

You liked to believe that you and Carl were quite smart. You both were great survivors, you ended up surviving years and years of the undead constantly up your ass. You thought you could get away with basically anything, even being intimate in places you shouldn’t be. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case. In fact the two of you were so blind to how sneaky you weren’t.

It’s not like you didn’t try…although it seemed like you didn’t but that’s beside the point. A lot of the time if you two ended up fucking in places you shouldn’t, you weren’t seen but there was a couple occurrences when you almost were. Your streak of times almost being embarrassed was sort of an inside joke at this point, you both found it funny.

You were both invited to a run, just so you could help and be there to collect parts. Your goal was to get to the old radio station and find everything you need to fix Alexandria’s radio so you could communicate with the other communities. Quite an easy task. The group you’d both be going with is Rosita, Eugene, and Aaron. Pretty simple, you should be perfectly fine. Eugene was only going to collect the proper parts for the radio, not to fight.

You and Carl walked up to the gates to leave hand in hand. This morning for Carl was…quite a rough one to say the least. He woke up rather needy and the two of you were running late so there was unfortunately no time for the two of you to fix his issue. He was toughing it out, however. Or was trying at least.

Once approaching the truck you’d be taking, your first observation was how large it was, even on the inside. Aaron had just brought it back a couple days ago and you hadn’t had a chance to see it yet. It was one of those kinda of trucks you couldn’t imagine affording back when cars had payments n shit.

“Alright let’s get going.” Aaron unlocked the car and everyone piled in. You got in the backseat first and to your surprise, Eugene barged his way in to sit between you and Carl. Your eyebrows furrow a bit in confusion. “I refuse to be sittin next to a couple who might latch at the mouth any minute.” Eugene explains flatly. Carl looks at him with an odd look as he buckled his seatbelt. “We wouldn’t do that. But okay.” You retort. After Rosita was buckled she turned to look back at you. “Yes you would.”

The rest of the car ride was pretty quiet from the both of you, Carl had his hat on his lap and stared outside the window the whole time which presumably meant he was thinking. Eugene and Rosita conversed a while and you occasionally chimed in. Their little arguments were rather amusing, Rosita tended to have quite harsh comebacks while Eugene focused on outsmarting her.

Before you and the group had arrived at the radio station, you all went over the plan. You and Carl would keep watch on the outside while the other three go in so they can leave as quick as possible while still being efficient. So when you arrived, it seemed somewhat like a breeze. They had entered the building and you knew they’d be in there for a while..maybe thirty, forty five minutes? Like stated previously…you guys weren’t too smart when it came to practicality.

“I don’t think this is a great idea, there’s a good chance they’ll finish fast.” You explain to Carl. “Okay then I’ll make you finish fast.” He rebuttals. You sort of cringe at his joke and he opens the car door for you to get in the back. It was a lot more spacious with just the two of you in there, it was quite nice and Carl felt comfortable getting started right away. You laid back and tugged your shorts down with no warning; also, with the current situation you were both in, he felt there was no time for foreplay.

He pulled your underwear to the side and immediately dove into your heat with his tongue, causing your head to fall back onto the door of the car in pleasure. It was parked closer to the woods, far from the building so you didn’t think there’d be an issue being seen…right? Anyway, his lips wrapped around your clit, he started to suck quite sloppily but he wasn’t quite focused on doing it perfectly. “Oh that’s perfect.” You tell him, your hand going to his head to keep him where you want him. He flattened his tongue against your pussy moving his head up and down, side to side to reach every spot he could. He was practically panting like a dog. Your eyes roll back into your head and you’re grinning largely.

You noticed something was shaking the car a little so you lift your head back up and open your eyes, noticing his arm moving. Meanwhile he stiffened his tongue, prodding it into your hole. You were quite overwhelmed to say the least. “Are you…” Your voice trailed off breathlessly and he glanced up at you, his arm seemingly moving quicker. He was jerking off. You didn’t even notice him unbuckle his jeans.

“Don’t worry about it.” He said between small laps at your clit, a small smile forming on his face. All of a sudden everything seemed more intense, you were close, being loud as ever and he began moaning against you as well. It was everything you could ask for.

“Oh good god-” You hear in a muffled tone, you notice that the voice is in fact coming from outside of the car, behind your door. You open your eyes and Carl stops everything, you see his eyes go wide as he looks out at the window behind you. There’s a shadow from the outside of the car displaying a figure to the inside. You see quite a familiar mullet. You push yourself up and look behind you.

Eugene.

Soon enough you’re both fully dressed and sat up in the car just glaring at Eugene outside completely embarrassed.

You were caught, there was no way you could explain this to him any differently than what he saw. Eugene was frozen, it was like someone had stopped time and he was just stood there terrified. You weren’t sure on what sort of approach to take and Carl was still rock hard so he was focused more on how to stop feeling uncomfortable. You’re trying your hardest to adjust your clothing. “What the hell, Eugene? Shouldn’t you be inside?” You scold him as if you weren’t in the wrong, even though he did interrupt your time.

“They found a room full of walkers and they started spillin out…” He explained, his tone somewhat embarrassed. “So you fucking ran?” Your response is sharp and mean, causing him to flinch a little. “Yes. They have it handled. They’re capable of takin care of the next rooms perfectly fine.” He replied obviously. You sigh and shield your face with your hands. “This is so fucking embarrassing.” You turn to Carl and he was zoned out but he looks at you silently and nods. “Just took me by surprise that’s all.” Eugene chimes in. “That’s a very natural activity for-”

You were all interrupted once again by Rosita this time, calling for Eugene. “Eugene what the hell are you doing? Get in here.” She shouts from the building. He turns to nod at you guys before walking back while Rosita waited at the entrance for him. You fully turn your body to turn to Carl and you let your head fall to his shoulder.

“Yeah there goes our streak.”

a/n: hey guys! i’m feeling a bit better so here’s a smut fic :) i’m gonna get the rest of the match ups out soon although this is quite a busy week for me ill still be working on them! i love u guys bye!

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hcs for a Tav who grew up being starved/neglected. Maybe their parents were poor or they were an orphan on the street. They don’t hoarde too much food but they don’t eat in front of others. And rarely take enough. And they refuse to shower near the others or camp super close to them. They’re almost always on alert and are really bad at self care. They’re always dirty, hair a mess. They kind of smell. And they are also ashamed of the fact no one taught them how to take care of themselves???

For Astarion, Gale, Halsin, and Wyll? ^_^

Thank you!

A/N: Oh Nonnie, I feel this! I was a child of divorce and at one house we were very disciplined and had routines for self-care and homework and everything. But the other house was chaotic and full of resentment and neglect. It’s so odd how something 20+ years ago can still affect you today, but it absolutely can. 💚

For some resources on having to figure things out as an adult, may I recommend the “How Do I Dad?” YouTube Channel and the r/InternetParents subreddit? Those are the two I like the best atm. Also remember, Google is your friend. Whenever I want a real person to answer, I usually type in my question with a plus sign then Reddit (+reddit) which will pull up real user’s threads from Reddit about the subjects you’re Googling. It’s one of the last platforms I think is usable in that way. So that's why I do that. Then again, I’m old and might just miss the old ppl’s Internet. 

Anyway, on to the ask!

…

TW: Mentions of Past Neglect, Disordered Eating, Food Insecurity

...

🧼️ HCs for Neglected!(GN)Tav With Astarion, Halsin, & Wyll 🛁

Astarion: 

Okay, he’s kinda a dick about it at first. He doesn’t mean to be. Well, I mean, yes he meant to make those petty comments, but he wouldn’t have made them if he knew about Tav’s past circumstances. Once Tav lets it slip they’re bad at self-care because no one ever taught them, Astarion immediately feels a sense of kinship. 

He was a magistrate before Cazador captured and turned him, and he considered himself to be a man of some luxury, but after being taken that all changed. He lived in filth, he was fed filth, by the hells, Cazador saw him as filth. He knows what it feels like to be seen as worthless and to have to survive in meager conditions. He wants Tav to understand none of it is their fault. They had no control over their circumstances. He tells Tav to never apologize for the way they had to live in order to survive. 

The first thing he offers to help Tav with is bathing and dressing. When Cazador let him out to lure victims, Astarion perfected disguising his undead scent over the decades. Part of it was using oils and perfumes, and another part was choosing the right attire. He’ll find the right kind of soap and cleansing oils for Tav's skin and hair type, insisting they get only the best the markets of Baldur’s Gate have to offer. If Tav can’t afford it, who cares? He’ll just sneak around the merchant and steal it while Tav distracts them. Or Lazel, if Tav refuses to do something so morally questionable.

He doesn’t really pick up on Tav’s refusal to eat with the others, mainly because Astarion also doesn’t eat with the others. But if Tav requests, Astarion will gladly sit and gossip with Tav as they eat their meal, away from everyone else. 

Astarion might suggest the party visit an inn or a bar one night, and encourage Tav, in his way, to let their guard down and eat around the others. He wants Tav to practice consuming food in the presence of their other friends. Astarion believes it’ll do two things: 1) It’ll prove to Tav, that it’s safe to eat in their company and 2) It’ll reinforce what Astarion’s been saying to them, that there’s nothing wrong with the way they eat. Even if they scarf their food down or eat with their hands or burp extra loud- who cares? Karlach practically inhales three portions in a single bite. Gale won’t shut up while he eats, so he’s always talking with his mouth full. And Shadowheart takes the tiniest bites imaginable, meaning she takes fricken forever to finish a single plate. Everyone has their own style, and Tav’s is nothing to be ashamed of. 

If Tav and Astarion are especially close or if they’re dating, Astarion will even offer to help Tav wash up. Not because he wants to see them naked, or to have sex, but because he really wants to shower them in affection. He’ll gently massage their shoulders as he works the cleansing oils into them. He’ll help them balance, bending backward as he washes their hair, gently using the very tips of his sharp nails to scratch their scalps. It feels heavenly, and it’s a great intimate, non-sexual way for the two of them to grow closer. 

It may be true no one was there to take care of either Astarion or Tav in the years past. But now that they’re together, the two of them can take care of each other. 

Halsin: 

Halsin prefers to live amongst nature as opposed to city dwellings, so he’s more accustomed to roughing it than the others may be. That being said, he’s not unclean, or unkempt- he keeps himself very well groomed (as one must do when they tend to ask to bed anyone and everyone they come into contact with for more than five seconds). He assumes Tav is just more accustomed to frequent bathing at first. Not everyone is as fortunate as he is. But he begins to suspect something the more the days go on, and Tav’s appearance and demeanor don’t change. 

He’ll try casually inviting Tav to come bathe with him. He knows the perfect spot just beyond the Grove, that’s secluded but not too small, that would well accommodate both of their bodies. He suggests this regardless of whether he and Tav are dating or not. If Tav is hesitant, he apologizes for being forward and kindly explains he just wanted to present Tav with the opportunity to take some time for themselves. When Tav breaks down in front of him, explaining why they’re so upset about the idea of grooming and self-care, Halsin is immediately sympathetic.  He listens intently as Tav gets their fears off their chest. 

Once Halsin understands Tav’s situation, he’ll take them into his tent, and show Tav his collection of soaps and brushes and oils. Halsin explains how he prefers to use each one, before gifting them to Tav to keep for themselves. When Tav protests that it’s too much, Halsin puts a hand up to stop them. He can always buy new items. Besides, he’s learned how to make the most of what only Mother Nature has to offer. He can manage without fancy cleansers and bristles for a time. Tav deserves them more. 

Halsin might even offer Tav some clothes if he has any that wouldn’t be too difficult to tuck or take in, as he’s a very tall man. With Tav’s permission, he might even ask Shadowheart Lazel or even Astarion if they have something they could spare for the time being, if Tav is too embarrassed or shy to ask for themselves. 

He offers to keep watch and guard Tav as they bathe, promising not to look unless Tav asks them to. If the two are dating, Halsin will assist them, helping Tav scrub down, and removing all the dirt, grime, and dead skin before washing them in the water. If the two are only friends, Halsin keeps his promise of not looking at Tav until they are dressed again. He’ll help detangle and braid Tav’s hair, taking care not to pull too hard on any knots. The whole ordeal leaves Tav feeling rather pampered. 

As far as eating goes, Halsin will always offer to share any meal he catches while the party is camping together, which is how Halsin notices Tav’s different eating habits. Halsin swears that as long as he is well and able to hunt and gather food, Tav will never go hungry in his presence. Halsin assures Tav that it’s okay to eat full, rather than stockpile most of their meals for later. It’s much more important to eat for energy now, rather than wait to eat later. It keeps one’s energy levels stable and helps to reduce any unintentional food waste as things tend to spoil sooner rather than later. 

Halsin takes it upon himself to become a provider of sorts for Tav, the one Tav never had. He plans to lavish Tav with so much attention and care, that those wounds caused by years of abandonment and neglect have no choice but to close. 

Wyll: 

Wyll is a bit awkward about it in the beginning. Not because he intends to be rude, but because he’s unsure of how to approach the subject with Tav without sounding like a snide ass. If it were any other companion, he might have made an offhand comment days ago, but when it comes to their leader, Wyll holds much more admiration and respect. So, Wyll holds his tongue until things become a bit more apparent, and he believes he knows the most sensitive way to navigate them. 

When everyone sits down to eat, Wyll asks Tav if they’d like to join them. He does this every evening, hoping Tav will eventually say yes. If Tav still doesn’t bite, he’ll come to them, and ask if he could sit next to Tav as they eat. Wyll makes a casual conversation between bites, trying to bring Tav out of their shell. If there's still no change, Wyll opens up about being on his own, having been kicked out of his home as a young man. He reveals how for the first few years he was often hungry, tired, and cold- being forced to move around from place to place outside of Baldur’s Gate without the proper supplies to fend for himself or keep himself dry. This prompts Tav to open up a bit about their past- how they also had to survive on their own, and now, as an adult, they don’t know how to do anything other than ‘survive’. 

Wyll is, of course, empathetic. Tav may not have come from a noble background like Wyll did, but that’s no excuse for all Tav had to endure, especially as a child. Wyll tells them he’s sorry Tav had to live through all that, and makes it very clear that it was in no way, Tav’s fault. They were just a kid, they should have been protected. There’s nothing to feel ashamed about. They didn’t fail, other people failed them. 

Wyll had to learn how to do many things on his own, and he thinks it would be best for him to share all he’s learned. One night he sits with Tav at dinner, encouraging Tav to eat, as Wyll tells them how he learned where to stay, how to get work, when to leave, and where to train. 

Together, Wyll and Tav come up with a list of items Tav most likely needs for self-care. All the while Wyll does his best to ensure Tav doesn’t feel judged for lacking such things. Again, Wyll reminds them, it’s not their fault. And there’s never any time to start like the present. If they’re close enough to a market, Wyll will take them there, and help Tav purchase everything they need. However, if they’re somewhere without vendors, say the Underdark or the Shadowlands, Wyll will approach a party member for assistance. 

Out of all of the companions, Wyll asks Astarion if he has any extra cleansing soaps or oils because Wyll knows Astarion’s the most high-maintenance party member amongst them lol. Once Wyll secures those items, he gifts them to Tav, and lets them know he’d be happy to stand guard while they bathe. Wyll plants himself midway between the camp and the river, giving Tav ample space. Wyll would feel being too close to them, in this manner, at this point, even if he and Tav were in a relationship, would be inappropriate. 

Once Tav is bathed and dressed, Wyll escorts them back to the fire. As Tav’s hair dries, Wyll regales them with much more upbeat stories, tales of his times as the Blade of Frontiers. His battles and triumphs, his rescues and saves- all of that. He wants Tav to know he has their back. Wyll is capable of protecting Tav, and he intends to do it in a way where Tav never has to feel abandoned or forgotten again.

...

💚💚 Don't Forget to Like & Please Reblog!!! 💚💚

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

Shen Smut Fic from Undead Unluck

Nsfw; AFAB ; slight yandere

“I’m usually one to play the role of a gentleman, but I think you’ve kept me waiting long enough, no?”

In which Shen finally has enough of your worrywart antics and decides to put matters into his own hands.

———————

It was supposed to be a regular quest - capture the UMA, be rewarded with a Negator’s location, find the Negator, and be done with it. 

So why were you deserted in Japan, in a LOVE HOTEL of all places, stuck with the most unintentionally insufferable man on the planet? 

“Jeez,” you sigh, face-palming your forehead, “I can’t believe Andy and Fuuko left without us! And what for? The newest copy of Shonen Jump?!” 

You hear a laugh from behind. Shen was sitting cross legged on the gaudy heart-shaped mattress provided with the room, leaning his chin into a hand while he watches you pace around the room, and, much to your chagrin, with amusement. 

How could he be so nonchalant about everything? His cool demeanor always contrasted your reactive, uptight one, and without even trying to he manages to piss you off on the daily. 

“Look, I’m sure they’ll be back soon. Or they won’t. Méi wèntí (no problem)!”

You slap your cheeks with a groan. “It’s absolutely an issue, Shen! We’ve wasted how many days trying to capture UMA ____? And now instead of doing anything productive we’re stuck here cause those two decided to ditch us!” 

His polite smile does little to reassure you. 

“You’re way too worried.”

“And you aren’t?!”

He hums, tapping his face. “Not necessarily. Whatever Fuuka told Andy, it must have been important. You saw the way he carried her off with a sprint, no? I trust they have some sort of plan. Although like you, I wish they would have given us a heads up.” 

While you sure loved Fuuko, her brash plans always gave you the worst fucking headaches. You’re glad Andy is there to protect her, but still. 

You sigh and plop face down on the mattress next to the blue haired man. 

For a moment, there is only silence. Eventually, you forfeit.

“…For what it’s worth, this bed sure is comfy.” 

“Right?” Shen agrees, moving to lay down on his back and stare at the hot pink ceiling. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Y/N, but I think you’re too stressed most of the time. Have you ever tried meditation? I’m no meditation master, but I can offer you some pointers.” 

“No thanks,” You grimace at him, “Meditation stresses me out.”

“That’s counterintuitive.” 

“I know.”

More silence. 

He turns his head to face you. “Well if you happen to find a way to destress and need a partner, I’d be happy to lend a hand. I’d offer to spar with you, but I know you’re not much of a fighter.” 

“That’s…that’s real nice of you, Shen. Thanks.” 

“Of course,” His smile reaches his eyes when he adds, “You’re cute when you’re pouting, but I think you’re even prettier with a smile on your face instead.”

It takes a second for the words to click in your head, then a blush blooms across your face.  

“Hey. Can I be honest with you for a second?”

“Gànba (go ahead).”

“When we first met, I hated your guts. You always had this shit eating grin on your face no matter what’s happening, and it drove me insane. It’s really hard to tell what you’re actually feeling behind that smile. It made it difficult to trust you, and I already had a hard time trusting people as it was. Still do, actually.” 

You continue on. “But after spending more time with you and the others, I’ve learned that you’re not all that bad. And maybe you are hard to read sometimes but I trust that you’re not a threat and want to protect the people you care about. And I find that really admirable, ya know? A lot. So uh? I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d like to get to know you more as a person and be friends. And that I’m sorry for always having my head up my ass.”

His eyes widen at your words and you look away abashedly. “I mean, if being buddies is a problem then I totally understand I mean whywouldyouwannahangoutwithmeinthefirstplace—“

He reaches to grab your hand, halting your rambling. “Does that mean I have permission?”

“Uh, permission to what?”

He squeezes your hand, eyes ablaze with something you couldn’t put your finger on. “To kiss you.”

Immediately you’re a stuttering mess. “Hah?? I mean - what - no, I - that’s totally inappropriate, we can’t —“ He locks eyes with you, “Please kiss me.” 

You’re shocked. Did he just use his Negator ability on you?

He ears turn pink at your proclamation and he says, “Of course. Anything you want.”

Before you can say anything in retaliation he’s moving in on you like a shark. With a hand cupping the back of your head, his lips meet yours hungrily, leaving your body slack with shock. You can barely breathe as he fights his way into your mouth, tongue exploring inside your mouth fervently. You bring your hands up to his chest to push back but he doesn’t budge. 

It feels like eternity before he lets you go. When he finally relents, you’re gasping for breath. You look into his eyes, shocked to see that they’re dilated, blown wide with excitement.

He says breathlessly, “I’ve been interested in you since the day you joined the Union. I did everything I could to get you to like me. I tried to be the nice guy, be polite and approachable, but you never seemed to wanna let me in. I was honestly beginning to give up. You don’t know how happy I am to finally hear you say that.” 

His strong hand roams to grip your waist. Tightly. With a low whisper he says, “I want you. I want all of you. And if you let me, I’m going to do more than just kiss you, my dear.” 

You’re so flustered you don’t even know what to say. “I — you — wait. You like me?Why? I mean we’re basically coworkers aren’t we and I don’t know about you but datingcoworkershasalwaysbeenweirdand—“

He gives you a knowing wink, and you’re back to speaking your hidden truths again. 

“I want you more than I can say.“ Fuck Untruth. 

Apparently you said that last bit out loud, because Shen gives you a hearty laugh, so much he has to wipe a tear from his eye. 

Embarrassed, you want to get up and leave the room, but he’s still looking at you. His ability is still turned on and you can’t budge.

“Yeah, I can’t let you leave. Not when I finally know how you really feel about me.”

Great. 

His face almost seems apologetic. “Forgive me, Y/N my dear. I just know that this is the only way I can get the truth out of you.”

You want to yell at him but your mouth will only tell another story. With slight apprehension, you watch as his signature smile mutates into something darker, more predatory. 

“I’m usually one to play the role of a gentleman,” He inches closer to you, lips whispering against your ear, “But I think you’ve kept me waiting long enough, no?”

You gulp. 

With a quick push, he immediately has you on your back, staring up at him like a deer in the headlights. His arms are around both sides of your head, legs caging you in. You find yourself shaking with either anxiety or excitement, you can’t tell. 

“Fàngsōng (relax). I promise I won’t hurt you. Unless you want that, that is”. 

You move a hand up to cover his eyes so he can’t use his Negation, sparing the both of you from whatever embarrassing remark would come out of your mouth otherwise. 

Despite the hand in his face, he was smiling at you like a villain. “You know, you’re not really helping your case by doing that. I can still tell what you want, see?”

A gasp escapes your lips as you feel a hand trail down your pants, into your panties. An electrifying tingle flows through you when Shen rubs you in a circular motion. Opening your eyes, he’s already taken his hand out (much to your disappointment) and is staring at the slick coating his fingers. Your hand is long gone from his face. 

“Hmm, pretty wet.” He hums. 

You watch mortifyingly as Shen licks his fingers clean, the sight counteractively igniting something within your core. 

“And you taste pretty damn good, too.”

He gets off you and starts tugging your pants off. Before he goes further, asks, “Can I?”

He doesn’t even have to use his ability. You respond with a small, barely above a whisper, “yes”. 

With your face as red as it can possibly be, the muscular man gives you a flirtatious wink, his eyes lidded with lust at this point. 

Both your pants and undergarments are thrown across the room, and your lower half is left bare for him to see. By instinct you try to close your legs, wanting to hide, but the Union member’s arms keep you open. 

The way he stares at your pussy has you feeling faint of heart. He’s eyeing you like you’re a famous painting he’ll only get to see once in his life, doing his best to analyze and remember every detail. 

“Can you please stop staring? This is embarrassing,” You whimper. 

“No need to be so shy, my dear. You’re beautiful. I want to see everything.” His enthusiasm does little to settle your nerves. 

With a devious smirk, he lays on his stomach, face between your thighs.

“Xiè xie nǐ de shí wù (Thanks for the food).” 

Fire erupts through your veins when you feel his warm tongue lap at your folds, sliding up and down in the best way imaginable. His lips gently suckle on your clit, and despite not wanting to be loud, you cry out with fervor. You swear the pleasure is insurmountable. 

Your hands grip the fabric of the mattress you’re on, and when his tongue dips in and out of your entrance, you can only moan pathetically. 

“Fuck. Even your moans sound so beautiful,” Shen praises in adoration. You turn to look away, only to have your head jerked back in Shen’s direction. “We can’t be having that. Keep looking at me, my dear. I wanna see those beautiful eyes of yours filled with pleasure.”

Lewd slurping sounds fill the room. 

He looks so pleased with himself while you quiver under his grasp, something intense gradually building inside of you. Your hands instinctively move to grip his hair, mindlessly pushing him down further to eat you out. You feel yourself reaching close to that high, and when that strong tension in your core finally snaps, you feel lightheaded from the your intense orgasm.  

You’re so sensitive that every nerve of your body feels lit up. But that doesn’t stop Shen. 

The man keeps lapping you up, causing you to grip his hair tighter as you cry, “Fuck, I came! I came I came I came, stop, it’s so fucking sensitive, god!” 

It takes another minute of begging before 

He opts to listen to you. He chuckles. “Well, did my girl like that? You tasted so good, mhm.”

You’re left speechless, still reeling from your orgasm. Shen gets up on his knees and begins to strip. You always knew he was buff, but you’re mesmerized by his toned muscles as he removes his shirt, revealing a chiseled stomach and oh-so broad chest. 

You feel heat rise to your cheeks when he sends you another wink, obviously enjoying the fact that you’re ogling him. When he slides his pants off, you see that he’s hard with want, the tip of his veiny cock an angry red color. You feel intimidated by the sheer size. 

He’s big. 

“Uhm…I don’t think that’s gonna fit,” you mumble nervously. 

He laughs at that. “Sure it will. We’ll make it work, my dear.”

Now as naked as you, he moves to give you another fiery kiss, his tongue tangling itself with yours. He reminds you again how beautiful you are, whispering praises between every break. He touches you again, pleased that your juices and his spit have you sopping when through and through. 

Finally, when he feels like he can’t wait any longer, what would be a loud cry from you is silenced by a kiss as he moves to shove his member into your weeping entrance. He has you caged between his arms again, your legs wrapped around his torso. It’s a slow endeavor at first, letting you get used to his size as he stretches you out.

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” You feel your insides being stuffed to the brim with his cock. He slowly moves in, until he finally fully braces himself inside you.

He gently moves in and out, a slothful but sure pace. He opts to wrap his tongue around the hard nipple of your breast. 

“Good girl,” he praises, “Taking me so well, aren’t you.”

“I—I don’t…” You words fall at the wayside. 

“Fuck,” he groans, “We’re meant to be together, don’t you see?”

Shen awaits an answer but your words regress to babbles and whines.

You whimper as he suckles on your neck, bound to leave a nasty hickey after. The pleasure is too overwhelming and you inch to get away. It’s futile though — he has you locked in.

“You’re not getting away,” his soft voice turns into a growl when he realizes you’re trying to evade him, and he grabs the arms you were pushing at his chest with, opting to pin them down at each side of your head. 

“I’ll make you feel so good you can’t get away.”

All of a sudden, the movement of his hips snaps from gentle to rough, the stronger man voraciously sheathing his cock in and out of you like a beast in heat.

“Oh god,” You words slur as your mouth pools with saliva, drooling from total ecstasy, unable to do anything except hold on to the man who’s ravaging you. Tears of delight prickle at your eyes.

You feel so good you can hardly think straight, blissfully enjoying the sudden roughness he displays as he mutters, “Don’t think anyone else can make you feel this good, huh? Nǐ shì wǒ de (You are mine).” 

He pumps into you relentlessly, looking down on you with crazed lust in his eyes, watching as your eyes nearly roll back in enjoyment. You feel so full, you don’t know how you can continue taking it. 

“Shen, Shen, I can’t take it!”

“Yes, you can. And you will.” He commands. 

Another orgasm threatens to overcome you, and even though you’re begging him to give you a minute of respite, he doesn’t comply. 

“I’ve waited so long to have you, you’re not getting a break that easily.”

He gets you to where you’re on your knees, ass up with your face in a pillow. 

With a groan he’s back inside you, hitting your insides deeper than you thought possible. 

“You’re too perfect, I can watch you all day,” He confesses. 

Your cries bounce off the walls of the room when he gives your ass a slap. It stings, but you’re so far on Cloud 9 that you don’t care. If anything, it’s the catalyst to you cumming once more. Shen eyes in fascination as your cunt spazzes around his member, highly satisfied with himself for making you feel so good. 

He kneads your ass as you’re gasping for air, basically sobbing from your orgasm taking the life out of you. Your cunt is twitching when he slowly pulls out, only to slam back in as hard as he possibly can. He fastens his grip on your ass, pulling you back into him when you try to move further away. 

“No running,” He chastises, earning another hard slap on your ass. You yelp at the roughness of it all, but in truth? Maybe you’re enjoying it a lot more than you should. 

You turn your head as best as you can to look at the man ravaging you. He’s looking at you with such intense focus, gritting his teeth in an unnerving grin that leaves you feeling aroused and like you’re prey. Sweat beads down his forehead and chest as he continues to pound you, leaving your pussy a wet and stuttering mess. 

His hands meet your waist and with one deft move your back hits the bed again. You hear Shen curse before your sweat covered, fucked-out sinful visage, and you don’t bother holding back the moan that leaves your throat when the angry red head of his dick slides back into your entrance.

“So good,” He grunts, fucking you into a mating press. He moves a hand down to fumble with your clit, eliciting all the cries he’s grown to love hearing out of you. 

You feel as if you might come again, and you know Shen is getting close too when the man’s thrusts grow sporadic. 

“That’s it,” He encourages through clenched teeth, “Cum for me. Cum on my cock!”

His words send you over the edge, and you clench around his dick once more. 

“Yes, please,” He hears you beg, and that’s all he needs to climax himself. A quick couple of thrusts and he pulls out, hastily pumping his long shaft with a hand until thick ropes of cum decorate your chest. 

He reaches for the towel conveniently placed on the nightstand and gently wipes away the mess he made.

“Hahhh,” Once he’s done, he breathes out a pleased sigh, collapsing beside on you the bed. 

“Holy shit,” You say through unsteady breaths. You try to reel yourself in after all those intense orgasms. 

Unfortunately for you, post nut clarity hits hard and FAST, and you immediately make way to get up and clean off, and maybe bury yourself someplace hidden. You get the nagging feeling that maybe your bed partner will regret his decision later on, and howcouldyoulookhimintheeyesnow—-

Shen tugs your hand back and pulls you close, wrapping you in his arms. 

“Hey, don’t leave me all by myself! Let’s stay like this for a while, yes?” He says. 

“I…okay,” You can’t help but agree, comfortable in his warm embrace. The two of you stay like that for a while, basking in the afterglow of the deed and eachother’s presence. 

———————————————————————

Fuuka was throwing duck feed into a pond when Andy sat down next to her, watching with a mischievous grin as all the ducks scattered away under his scrutinizing glare. 

“Say,” Fuuka starts after slapping her partner on the shoulder for his harassment of the ducks, “Do you think we can head back to the hotel now? We already spent the money Shen gave us for Shonen Jump.”

Andy hums, finger on his chin in thought. 

“Nah, Shen asked us to leave for the whole day, remember? Let’s get dinner before heading back.”

“Why do you think Shen wanted us gone in the first place? It’s not like the quest required that we split into teams.”

Andy gives her a pointed look. 

“What?” She says quizzically.

After a few seconds, her face glows beet red, eyes wide with realization.

Hotel + privacy + man + woman = ???

“Holy crap. No way!” She shouts. 

“Yes way. So for our sake and theirs, let’s not go back until late tonight.”

She nods in agreement, fanning her flustered face. 

———-

thanks for reading! And @shiroisotto64, from one Shen lover to another, hope you enjoyed it ;)

[the-kr8tor]

May I have Bitter Orange in a ⭐ bottle please? The start of R and Hobie being handcuffed together before they turned, with R succumbing to the effects of the virus much faster than Hobie due to his spiderpowers, so for a bit he just watches his love become a husk of who they were before he too is a zombie?

*laughs evily* Yessss I've been waiting for a request exactly like this hwjsjwijsjaj hope you like it!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.2k (whoops)

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), description of illness, TW blood, CW injury, TW death, zombie AU, Zombie apocalypse AU. Angst, Hurt/comfort

A prequel to this one shot

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

The air is nice and cool on your face as you walk hand in hand with Hobie in the barren street. There's rows upon rows of abandoned houses, all in different stages of decay from both scavengers trying to survive and time itself proving to be the worst enemy. But it's on your side for now for it has given you infinite time to be with him.

Hobie's hand is suddenly on your scarf, fingers gingerly sliding the fuzzy material up to your chin. He smiles at you, the sun blindingly light behind him. Despite the apocalypse, he still looks just as handsome. He has new shallow scars on his chin where a stubble is slowly growing, hair a bit of a mess but beautiful nonetheless. You've once told him after a lucky find of one whole pound of chocolate pudding that he's apocalypse chic, that he makes the end of the world look good. To which he laughed and shoved a spoonful of chocolate pudding in your mouth. Compared to him you probably look like a mess, you wouldn't know, you've ignored mirrors ever since you ran out of shampoo a few days ago.

“What are you thinkin' ‘bout, gorgeous?” He tugs you closer to him, the crowbar hanging from his backpack clinks against the machete next to it.

“That I really need shampoo, and that you look unfairly handsome in this light.”

Chuckling, he intertwined his fingers around your own. It could mean death for the both of you if the undead suddenly lunges and he doesn't have enough time to take his hand away from you. But he thinks it's alright for him to do, to indulge himself to your touch since the entire place is empty save for a few dead cars and scattered luggages left by people.

“You should see yourself in my eyes, lovie, the greasy hair is doin' a lot for me.”

“Oh yeah? You like it when you pat my head and you get petrol on your hand?”

“We need petrol, d’you think if I bunch up your hair and squeeze it I can collect the oil?”

You nudge him playfully, “you're an ass.”

“Yeah, well, you're stuck with this arse.”

Your mind goes back to your friends and family you've left behind. “Do you think they're okay?”

“'m sure they are, Yuri's got them, and they have Ned, he'll whip them into shape. ‘sides, we're almost at James’, if I was them I'd stay there.” He adjusts his hold on his pack and guitar. “We'll find them.”

You smile, nuzzling his bicep for his own reassurance, knowing that he also worries for them. “You're right. They're probably doing better than us.”

“Yeah,” he pecks the crown of your head. “They're living like kings, I bet.”

You two stop in front of a large house, complete with white marble steps and tall roman columns. “James' dad never had taste, huh?”

Hobie snorts, “his son took all of it. C’mon, then.” He leads you on the porch, trying the door, wishing that it was locked because if it is it means that someone's inside, that they're surviving and waiting for the two of you. To his despair, the door opens without a problem.

Hobie looks back at you having the same expression. “It's okay,” you try to be optimistic, “maybe they left a message for us.”

He nods, “yeah, maybe.” Crossing the abandoned space, he takes his guitar from his back to strum a tune. When he doesn't hear stumbling or any rattling from anywhere inside the house, he continues forward, but his guard is still up. “We might as well get some supplies while we're ‘ere.”

“Yeah, there might be some left in here.” You give him a small smile. “How about we split up? This place is too big, it'll take us forever to comb over this place.”

Hobie considers it for a moment. The place seems pristine except for the furniture and cabinets that are picked clean, so he deems it safe. “Okay, just…” you walk to his side, rubbing his arms, smiling sweetly at him even though he probably doesn't smell the best. “...keep your knife close.”

“I will keep my knife close,” you repeat his words, “and I'll stay alert.” Poking at his chest, you peck the frown off his lips. “And you keep safe.”

He's still apprehensive, but he knows you can hold your own. Taking your face in his hands, he kisses you fully, smooching until you're giggling. “We’ll meet back ‘ere in fifteen.”

“Aye, aye, Cap'n!” You mock salute. “Any special requests?”

“Chocolates.”

“I said a request, not wishful thinking.” You tease, he has an urge to kiss you again.

“Towels, the nice fluffy ones.” You slide your hands away from him, to which he already longs for.

“Got it! I bet James has a ton of them.” You wink, knife in hand, walking away from him.

Hobie watches your retreating back, tamping down his anxieties. He searches upstairs, grinning at James' familiar room. His posters and messy floors remain untouched, the bed still looking like it was tossed around by a tornado. He almost cries at the picture frame on the bedside table containing his band's smiling faces plus you who's embracing him.

Turning the frame around, he takes the picture and pockets it to show to you. After rummaging James' room, he takes a few shirts and pants for him and you. He even finds a pair of silk pajamas that he knows you'll love. A piercing scream echoes around the house, he immediately bolts downstairs, heavy footsteps thudding across marble floors.

You're on your back, fighting for your life while the undead on top of you tried to get a chunk out of you. It all stops when Hobie's guitar connects to the corpse's skull in a sickening crunch of metal and bone.

You scramble away, neck and arm in pain. Hobie's wide eyes meet yours just as when the back door bursts open, revealing a whole horde of the undead. Panicking, he yanks you up, holding your hand, running outside to more of the shambling dead.

“Fuck!”

“Hobie!”

“Just hold on!” His hand is tight around yours, you try to run at his pace, panic in your veins, adrenaline in his.

It feels like you've been running forever, Hobie sees an opening hidden in an alley. He can climb on his own without a ladder but you can't. So he leads you towards the empty alley while the rotten, decayed corpses of once human beings run after you at full speed.

Hobie jumps to take down an emergency ladder, without missing a beat, he grabs your waist and throws you on the ladder. You climb, but the pain in your arm gets worse so you're slower but you still try for him.

The undead finally gets to the alley, you don't dare to look down. Once you're on the rooftop, you peek below to see him struggling to get up the ladder, he's halfway with a handful of zombies dangling on his leg.

You scream his name but it's too late, one of the undead has bitten a chunk of his leg as he tries to kick the former human off the ladder where he's desperately trying to climb to. You wish he didn't run out of web fluid, you wish the world didn't end, you wish the throbbing pain on your arm is just muscle spasm, but the warm crimson seeping out of teeth marks says differently.

With a sickly crunch, the zombie falls down the ladder and into the rotten horde. Hobie climbs up quickly back to you, hands immediately grasping on to you.

“Did it get you?!” You yell, still in denial, frantically checking in hopes that his boot saved him. Your heart falls into your stomach at the sight of broken skin, blood staining your fingers where you hold the hem of his trousers away to get a better look. You're frozen on the spot, tears clinging to your lashes. “Hobie,” you gasp, taking off your scarf to make a makeshift tourniquet around and above the bite. “Fuck—!”

“You okay?!” He does the same to you, heaving, ripping off your sleeves like a madman trying to find the secrets hidden in your skin. He prays that he finds none. His eyes widen, terrified, broken hearted, shaking his head, refusing the fact that you're infected. “No,” he shakes his head again, closing the torn up cloth around the slowly rotting wound. “It's just a scratch, love, y-you’re not—”

“Hobie…” you smile bitterly, eyes mirroring his own. He rips the hem of his shirt, using the cloth to wrap it around your arm, just above the wound in an attempt to stop the spread. He ignores the stinging pain on his leg. “Hobie, stop, it's—”

“We can still stop it!” He yells desperately, tying the cloth tightly. “It's just a scratch.”

“Hobie, please.” You hold his trembling hands, “it has been ten minutes.” He refuses, you squeeze his hand weakly, the virus already taking hold. Slowly killing you. “And—” with trembling hands, you show him the gaping bite on your neck, oozing dark decaying blood. He choked on a sob. “B-but there's a chance for you, your abilities might've made you immune—”

“No, if you're goin’, ‘m goin’” He stands up, not giving up on you. “There's a chemist’s ‘ere, maybe if w-we…” he puts on a brave face amidst the impending doom and rotten flesh that stings his nose. “Maybe there's somethin’ there.” Hand reaching down, you smile up at him, orange and pink hues from the sky dancing around your face. “C-can you get up?” His voice breaks, chest heaving. “I can carry you. Don't make me carry you, love.”

You slide your hand onto his own. “Hobie,” your voice is soft above the mindless groaning below. His eyes beg you to move. So you do. “Okay,” with a single word, you bring him hope.

With divided effort, you both make it towards the roof of the pharmacy. He was uncharacteristically silent the whole way, but his hand never left yours. His eyes never met with your wounds that's slowly festering. You feel it inside you, the fever, the virus that's eating at you, spreading throughout your body, gnawing at every bit of your warmth like a seed taking root. Hobie feels it too, he's terrified that you're experiencing it too. It's his worst fears came to life only because he wasn't fast enough.

Opening the creaky door, he hopes that it's devoid of the undead. Like he's not on the brink of eating flesh, he does his usual prep. He strums his guitar softly to attract any walking corpses waiting behind doors, when none comes out, he cracks the door wider. With his torch, he lights up the way. But he doesn't feel your presence behind him.

Looking over his shoulder was a mistake, he finds you hunched over the doorway, groaning quietly, nails clawing at the throbbing wound around your neck. That's the moment he knew that you'd go out before him. For the first time, he curses his gifts.

Slowly, he crosses the distance towards you, shaking hands grasping your shoulders. You're warm, incredibly warm. “Love?” He could cry, but he doesn't want you to see his sorrow.

You sniff, tears streaming down your face from the pain and the tragedy of it all. You've accepted that you were infected, but not him, you'd take the virus from him too if you could. “I'm s-sorry, so fucking sorry. I should've—”

“Oi, none of that, yeah? You're gonna be fine.” He says it to convince himself. “You'll be back on your feet tomorrow and by then we'll see Yuri and the others.” Nodding, he takes you by your arm, careful of making your wounds worse. There's blood sticking to his clothes, seeping through his clammy skin. He hates the fact that it was yours. Bringing you behind the counter, you almost keep over. “I've got you, I've got you.” He says it against your temple like a prayer.

“H-Hobie.” You sob, salty tears marring your pretty face. “I can't— it hurts.” The gnawing feeling gets worse, as if a chainsaw is ripping you apart from the inside. “It's so hot, I–I can't breathe.”

“O-okay, I'll set you down ‘ere, get you comfortable. There's some fever meds over there. It'll help.” His hazel eyes pleads for anyone, anything that'll help you. He helps you sit down, and you immediately lie down on the cold tiles. “Do you want a blanket?”

“N-no,” you're hot and cold at the same time. “I don't know.” You look up at him, he sees the light in your eyes fading. “I don't feel so good, Hobs.”

Hobie could only look away from you, inhaling, exhaling but it doesn't feel like he's breathing right. He kneels down, setting his guitar next to you, palm placed on your forehead. “This is nothing, love.” He tries to smile, but fails. “Remember when you had the flu?” You nod weakly, “you were a fuckin' beast, you beat it on your own in just a few days.”

Even though you feel your heartbeat going faster and then slowing down in a weird rhythm like a heartbeat monitor going haywire, you smile for him. “I was, wasn't I?”

He rubs your bicep, under his touch, he feels your muscle twitch. “Yeah, you still are.”

You chuckle softly, tears sliding down your cheeks and into the cold tiles. “Okay, get me the meds.”

“That's my girl,” laying his forehead atop yours, he hopes that he'll take your pain away with the simple gesture, but it's futile. “I'll be back, I promise.”

“Don’t make me wait.”

Smiling, he squeezes your arm. “Never.” Standing up, he rummages through the entire place for the pills you need. Crouching down to check under the broken shelves, climbing up on the walls to get a bird's eye view, and all the while ignoring his own pain. It's slim pickings, but he manages to find a single bottle of tylenol that has rolled under a shelf, it's not enough, but it'll do.

With a victorious sigh, he quickly makes it to the counter, rounding the corner, he sees you wheezing, catching your breath and with blood leaking out from your eyes and ears. “No, no, no!” He takes you in his arms, making you sit up. “I've got the meds, love. Oi, open your eyes for me.” You crack one eye open tiredly. “That's it, good job.” He almost cries when you smile at him through the thick fog of illness.

“G-good job,” you murmur, he doesn't know if you're delirious or you're congratulating him for finding the medicine.

“Bottoms up.” He brings two pills to your mouth, to which you gladly take. Giving you his canteen, you drink most of it, downing the tepid water. “That's good, see, you're already gettin' better.”

You shake your head weakly, barely opening your eyes. “Thanks to you, Hobie.”

“Yeah, thanks to me.” He tries to joke but it comes out choked when blood still leaks out of your tear ducts. Sitting next to you, he now feels his temperature rise so he takes the same amount of pills as you.

You lay your head on his shoulder, hand shakily reaching towards his own. “I'm sorry.”

He almost breaks down at your apology. “Nothin' to apologize for, love.” Meeting your hand halfway, he intertwined his fingers with yours, you're cold now, frozen under his hold. “D’you want that blanket now?”

“Please,” you wheeze out.

Hobie obliges, taking a thick blanket from his pack and then draping it around you as if it'll protect you from the infection. “There, nice and cozy, eh?”

“Thank you,” he feels your crimson fall down on his collar. “For everything.”

“None of that, Y/N, please. None of that.”

“I still want to talk to you.” Your voice is soft and small. “I still want to stay with you.”

Hobie brings your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing each knuckle softly. “And we will be, after this—” a sob escapes from him. “After this, we'll be together, yeah? Just like how we talked about.”

“Forever and ever?”

His tears flow freely, “yeah, forever and ever.” After a beat of silence, he fears the worst. “Love?”

You cough, he sighs in relief. “Still here, Hobs, not leaving yet.”

“Not yet,” embracing you, he lays his chin atop your head, you're made comfortable in his hold. Home, you feel like you're back home in his houseboat, watching a shitty romcom while he rambles on about his patrol. You want to be back there again. He wants to be back there again. “Can I say somethin'?”

You hum into his chest, squeezing his hand tighter but your sickness, he barely felt it.

“I don't want to…” he could barely say it. “I don't want to kill you. ‘m sorry, I know we talked about it—”

You lean up, he's met with milky eyes, he knows you can barely see him now. “Then don't, I don't want you to—” you pause, clinging to humanity. “— to feel that before you go.”

Nodding, he kisses your forehead, crying, weeping into your skin. “I couldn't save you, ‘m so fuckin' sorry, love, ‘m so sorry.” He shakes, you gather enough strength to embrace him and bury yourself in his chest, letting his scent waft around you for comfort.

“Don't apologize, nothin' to apologize for.”

He sniffs, peppering your face with heavy weakened kisses. “Oi, don't use my own words against me.”

You smile against the rough leather of his jacket. “Can I say something?”

“Go,” he can practically see the countdown. “We have all the time in the world, love.” There's something warm leaking out of his eyes and ears. He's catching up to you.

You'd laugh but you can feel your life slipping through your fingers. “When we turn, I don't want us to be separated.”

“What do you propose?” He tries to inhale but he could only let out a sickening cough.

“Tie our hands together…really tight.” Your words fade away, but you still hold on.

“I've got rope here, I can do it now.”

“But I'll turn first, Hobie, I-I might—”

“It'll be my honour to be your first meal.”

“I'd laugh if we weren't dying right now.” Eyes too tired to open, you feel the rough rope around your wrist, and the unmistakable sound of a knot getting tied. You smile for the last time when you feel his fingers wrap around your own. “I love you.”

“How's that? Too tight?” He whispers close, he feels you slipping away, “Y/N? Love?” he breaks down when your hand falls limp around his own. “Not yet, please, not yet.” He holds you, rocking you back and forth like a babe needing to be held. Your heart doesn't beat in sync with his anymore. “C’mon, not yet, we still have to find the rest of the band, right?” His eyes cloud over, cold taking root inside his entire body. “Say somethin’, fuck!” He yells with all his might, “I love you, fuck, please wake up.”

Closing his eyes, he wraps you in what's left of his warmth. “Don't go, please.” Hobie pleads and cries until he can no longer breathe the same air as you. His last thoughts were of you.

[aris-lil-library]

VARIOUS RE CHARACTERS REACTING TO FRIENDLY ZOMBIE READER (G/N)

Brought to you by your local zombiekin <3 (Fun fact, was originally planning on adding Wesker- but I wanted to get this out sometime within the month lolol)

Also please note, I have not seen a full playthrough of Re1R or Re1- Chris might be OOC.

Characters Included:

Leon Kennedy (Re2R)

Claire Redfield (Re2R)

Jill Valentine (Re3R)

Carlos Oliveira (Re3R)

Chris Redfield (Re1R)

Content Warnings Included:

Mentions of body horror (brief, but still applies to reader themselves.)

Mentions of gore/death (nothing explicit.)

The Sewers. (They deserve their own trigger warning /hj)

Mention of eye touching/prodding

Leon Kennedy:

After having cleared the hallways of the Racoon City Police Department and coming face to face with some disgusting freaks of nature named Lickers, Leon thought he had seen it all. Honestly, he didn’t imagine there was anything new that could surprise him in this goddamn place until he made eye contact with you.

Well.. if you can call staring at the dangling eye hanging out of your socket “eye contact”.

He instinctively raised his gun, expecting to see you rise to your feet, stumble over to him and try to nom his neck like all the other undead he’d seen so far- but to his (pleasant) surprise, that didn’t happen. In some odd groan you spit out, which he assumed was your attempt at speech, you backed away from him. Arms raised as if to show you didn’t mean to cause him harm.

It was odd to say at the very least. He kept his aim marked at the dead center of your head, though he hesitated pulling the trigger now. Your right hand (which Leon noted had a nasty looking chunk taken out of it) drifted down to a bloodied ID badge hanging from your breast pocket.

Though it was hard to read, Leon squinted out the words “Assistant Secretary” in bolded letters at the top of your ID.

He looked back up at you, slowly lowering his gun as he noticed the almost.. human-like quality of fear in your eyes. He could’ve sworn he even saw your shoulders sag slightly with relief as he tucked his gun into his holster.

“Hey.. can you.. understand me?” Leon’s words paused at times as he debated internally if he was really trying to communicate with a dead person. He could feel his stomach sink slightly as you slowly nodded back, cautious that he’d still shoot.

“What the hell.. How are you even- no wait- you’re infected and you can still?- What??”

You watched as Leon’s brows furrowed and his expressions cycled through confusion, disbelief, intrigue and right back to absolute bewilderment. It was almost funny and you almost tried to smile at him- before remembering the fact that your jaw had gotten unhinged a while ago and it’d likely confuse the poor guy more.

After a very long and arduous time of trying to explain to the baby-faced police officer how exactly you got bit and how you locked yourself in this room and how even you didn’t know how you kept your humanity- it just ended up in Leon sitting on the floor, scratching his head.

“I really don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. I’m sorry.” You grumbled out a brief noise of annoyance before just accepting it and sitting on the ground across from him.

There was an awkward silence between the two of you for a while before Leon spoke up.

“Hey look. I know you’re already bit and all but maybe we can find you some help? There’s a hospital in the city- there has to be someone who can fix.. uh.. whatever you’ve got going on here, right?” He even sounded unsure of the words he was saying, yet the caring smile etched onto his nervous features was enough to convince you that you should come with him.

Not particularly like you believed you could be cured, but more as in “This poor kind boy will get killed if someone’s not looking out for him.”

So you gave a polite nod, rummaging through what little supplies you saved in here before heading out of your sanctuary with Leon- glad you’d met someone so nice in this mess.

Claire Redfield:

Despite having been caught in the middle of a zombie outbreak and getting turned yourself, undead life was surprisingly calm. You had shuffled your way down into the sewers after getting bit, accepting your fate as you felt your consciousness slowly slip away as blood drained out of the bite on your leg- only to wake up a few hours later a lot paler and surprisingly awake.

Part of you was frustrated you had somehow miraculously lived through transforming into a zombie because of course you would be the unlucky schmuck who would stay sentient throughout something like that. Only your level of sheer bad luck would allow that.

It turned out being down here wasn’t too bad if you ignored the weird mutated masses of flesh in the water, the massive hulking figure of a presumably mutated man that would scream in agony every hour or so and the other rotting corpses surrounding you. Otherwise, it was nice.

You had honestly thought that you were going to live the rest of your undead life here. It’s not like being on the surface is any better at the moment- though you had to admit, it got boring really quickly.

That’s why when you heard a small repetitive bang of a pistol fire off- you couldn’t help but let your curiosity win. You peaked around a corner, just dark enough so whoever was firing couldn’t see you, to take a glance at whatever unlucky person slipped down here.

She couldn’t have been past her early twenties, you thought, her younger features and nervous look spoke volumes. Her eyes had a certain steely resolve to them though, which would’ve impressed you if she didn’t stare directly at you. Previously fascinating eyes now had your stomach drop as she raised her gun at you preparing to fire.

You scrambled away down the hall you came from, legs slightly slipping from the slimy layer on the floor that you really didn’t want to think about at the moment.

Claire had started giving chase after you, worried you were possibly another survivor that she had scared off with her reckless gun waving.

“H-Hey! Wait up!” She yelled out, following your shadow throughout the gross sewers.

You had run yourself into a dead end- panicking and turning around to see her approaching rapidly. Without a way to defend yourself, you simply put your arms in front of your face to shield it as you shut your eyes tightly- preparing to get shot.

Clacking sounds of boots hitting the wet floor filled your ears as Claire stopped just a few feet away from you. She huffed out in exhaustion, leaned over to catch her breath.

“I’m.. I’m sorry- jeez hold on. About.. About scaring you. I didn’t know there were other survivors down here. You alright?” She looked up at you, briefly scanning over your body.

She noted how you looked worse for wear (but then again, so did she) and the large, infected looking wound on your leg. Her face shifted into one of pity as she looked back up at your face.

“Oh.. Is.. Is that why you ran from me?” You nodded, slowly lowering your arms to gauge her expression. It’s funny, she looked a lot more sweet up close. Your eyes met hers and you almost felt better. She looked at you with such.. compassion, even though you were infected.

Claire felt an immense sense of pity overwhelm her. She must’ve scared the living daylights out of you upon chasing you down like a rabid animal. As her gaze met yours though, she realized how glossy your eyes looked- how pale your skin was. You were probably already dead considering how familiar you looked compared to other zombies she had seen.

“I don’t want to hurt you, okay? You seem like a nice.. person? Zombie? I’m not fully sure what to call you.” Her tone was very soft, almost like a gentle elder sister, it was soothing to hear after all the harsh groans and grumbles you’d been hearing from the other undead around you.

“I think that it’ll be beneficial for us to work together. I have a friend who’s a police officer who I’m trying to meet up with. Maybe we can all find a way to escape together and you could get some help at a hospital out of this town. Is that okay?”

It wasn’t like you really had a reason to say no and the way she kept her voice so polite and calm definitely swayed your choice. With a nervous step forward, you precariously nodded.

“Perfect. My name’s Claire. Claire Redfield. It’s nice to meet you.”

Jill Valentine:

Jill was getting pretty damned tired of this zombie shit. First at Arklay, now in Racoon City the day before she was supposed to move out of this hellhole. It was just starting to get ridiculous and if she still believed in a God, she would’ve thought they had it out for her.

As she turned a hard left, narrowly avoiding a zombie grasping and hobbling towards her- Jill entered the subway company’s office. Thankfully it was empty, Jill thought to herself as she pushed the door leading into the traffic control system’s room only to have the door get pushed right back into her face.

…

What the fuck??

Jill grabbed her knife from the sheath on her side and rammed the door open- fully expecting to have to fight hand to hand, only to meet your terrified gaze as you fell onto the floor.

She honestly couldn’t tell if you were infected or not- you looked like you’d been drained dry of all your blood, yet your expressions were so human. Hands raised, slightly shaking (Jill wasn’t sure if that was due to fear or the fact your right hand was hanging on by a few tendons of muscle.)

You mumbled out a shrill and raspy yelp, trying to communicate as best you could that somehow you were still conscious, even in this form.

Jill wasn’t exactly sure what to do with you, knuckles tensing and untensing around the handle of her knife. She almost felt guilt thinking about stabbing you now. Her body went taut as she saw you stumble up and head to the subway panel. You waved your hands, pointing back and forth at the subway map and its controls.

“You.. know how to work that?” Jill hesitated with her words, almost embarrassed that she was trying to communicate with.. a zombie as far as she could tell.

Well that was until you nodded very rapidly, as if trying to prove you had some worth.

So with a frustrated sigh, Jill said “Okay, I need to go to Fox Park. Figure it out.”

Jill watched you with interest as you flipped through the switches expertly, going through the path so quickly she had to assume you worked here before.. whatever happened to you. You figured it out so quickly and turned back to her, as if expecting her to allow you to follow her to wherever she was headed.

Part of her really didn’t want to bring back an infected to the subway but you had the biggest eyes and were practically pleading.

“No- you can’t. God just..” Bigger puppy dog eyes.

“NO. You’ll cause too much commotion! I can’t-”

“Hey Jill- you got that subway route finished?”

Your eyes instantly went to the radio buzzing from her shoulder and she made a mental note to punch Carlos when she got back.

“Yes.. Thanks to the help of a.. oddly friendly zombie.”

You could hear him cackle over the other side of the radio. “You’re joking- right?”

“I wish I was.” Jill sighed out and explained to Carlos that she actually met a nice zombie and spent about 10 minutes convincing him and the other U.B.C.S members to let you follow and that she swears she’ll keep an eye on you and please please please please let her keep you-

Mikhail begrudgingly agrees after her arguing that she should be able to keep you around and that you’ve proven yourself to be helpful- but is told that you’ll be staying with Carlos when you both return to not endanger the civilians and to truly prove yourself.

Jill didn’t know why, but she felt the need to protect you. Maybe it was some lingering savior complex or survivor's guilt but she ignored that for now and walked alongside you back to the subway station.

Carlos Oliveira

As Jill arrived with you in tow, Carlos did notice how surprisingly calm and patient you were with everyone. You clung onto Jill for a little while- being careful to not go too far into the train- in the off chance someone would see you and freak out.

While Carlos trusted Jill’s choice in trusting you, most of the other U.B.C.S members were.. not as happy with the platoon leader’s choice in allowing you to stay. Tyrell was very obvious about his lack of faith in your unwillingness to cannibalize them and informally ordered you to stick near Carlos.

Carlos didn’t mind to be honest. Though, it was a little perturbing to see the way your flesh loosely hung on in some places. He tried his best to be polite and not stare as it’d be “ungentlemanly” of him.

You served to be pretty helpful in the RPD, keeping an eye out for anything he might’ve missed (zombies or items.) You even took a few solid hits for him which may have left you a little more gory in some places over before- but Carlos just appreciated the gesture.

“So, tell me, how’d you end up like that?”

“…”

“Oh right. Can’t talk. Sorry.”

A simple nod or shake of your head was enough to satisfy any base questions he had for you– plus his quips about certain events like the locked doors kept the mood light and cheery.

It was honestly a lot of easy communication between you two- Carlos read you very well and normally a simple tug on his arm or small grunt would do the trick if he truly missed something.

Carlos did ask some weird things though-

“Can you like.. see outta the hanging eyeball?”

You didn’t really think about it before but now that you focused on it- you really couldn’t. With an experimental prod, Carlos watched in horror as you pushed it back into its socket to see that’d change anything. It didn’t but it was worth a shot.

He (somewhat disturbed, somewhat politely) asked you never do anything like that in front of him again.

Fair enough.

Chris Redfield

This entire mansion situation was completely overwhelming for Chris- everything was so out of place and nothing made sense. Grappling with the concept of zombies being a real thing, Umbrella Corp actually being tied to this goddamn place somehow and the Bravo Team being completely wiped out along with his other colleagues being God knows where was just getting too much to handle.

Maybe that's why he didn't even take a second glance at you when you rolled a flashlight next to him as he sat on the ground of the grimy hallway.

It took him a second to fully process what just happened- his eyes running over the slimy flesh of your body that looked rotten and gross. You just simply stared back at him, hollow eyes in hollow sockets waiting for a response.

“.. Hello?”

You waved back in response, watching as Chris’ face cringed as your bones cracked and popped from the movement.

“That's new. Most of your friends seem to not be interested in conversation, eh?”

Chris was pretty sure he was losing it- he knew he should be grabbing his gun and getting rid of this thing in front of him before it attacked instead of making conversation. Yet something felt different about this one.

You nodded your head slowly and made trepidatious steps towards Chris. Testing his willingness to let you near- he did move his hand near his knife, which you took as a warning and stepped back.

He looked down at the flashlight you rolled towards his side and palmed it. It was essentially a gift- and you didn't seem to want to harm him.

“Listen. I need help finding my friends. They're somewhere in this mansion. This place is just so confusing to get through- will you help me out?”

You seemed to hesitate for a second, feet lingering in place as if trying to see if it was a trap. Chris almost found it funny, the both of you unsure of the other and still needing help to get out of here in one piece.

You gave a weary nod to him before stepping closer and offering your hand to help him up.

Chris shuddered a little as he felt the bone through your frail, decaying flesh and pulled himself up with your help.

An odd duo you two made, but certainly two is better than one in this situation.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 18: i'm anything but tame

"Don't tell me it's not fair. Believe me, I've been there. Bittersweet my renegade and I'm anything but tame. Oh, I hate to tell you this way. VIllians aren't born, darlin' we're made."  -Villians Aren't Born (They're Made) by PEGGY

Regent masterlist Mundane Macabre Part 17 AO3

Council of Uncaged Birds group chat [User Pharaoh has changed group name to Summon the Fraid Council] Summon the Fraid Council group chat Pharaoh-Tech: Phantom giw left AP InfiniteStarPrince: but thats good??? Queen_Regent: Where did they go? 

Dame_Asphodel: Phar tracked them far as NJ but the green says they are close to you.  Pharaoh-Tech: did some digging the bomb = not giw InfiniteStarPrince: yeah no gross ecto Queen_Regent: too subtle, not the usual guns blazing style.  InfiniteStarPrince: Oh.  Dame_Asphodel: Why Regent then? Queen_Regent: Who knows Phantom and I outside our night lives? Pharaoh-Tech: will dig more oracle tried 2 hack me Queen_Regent: Did you make contact? Dame_Asphodel: isnt Oracle a bat ally? Pharaoh-Tech: probably back hacked some files theres a file on Regent InfiniteStarPrince: why would BBB not have 1 on her??? Dame_Asphodel: BBB? Queen_Regent: Big Bad Bat. Batman. InfiniteStarPrince: yeah why wouldnt he have 1 on a meta Queen_Regent: he thinks is one Pharaoh-Tech: it has UR REAL NAMEE Queen_Regent:  I told him. InfiniteStarPrince: yeah, R let me know Dame_Asphodel: why? Pharaoh-Tech: u kidding i worried for nothing?!?! Queen_Regent: I’m dating Red Hood Dame_Asphodel: What happened to Jason? InfiniteStarPrince: him too Pharaoh-Tech: wat???? InfiniteStarPrince: R met his family 2 Pharaoh-Tech: hol up !?!?!?! u tellin me RH = JT?? Queen_Regent: Can’t confirm or deny Pharaoh-Tech: imma lay down head hurts Dame_Asphodel: That does make me think R Queen_Regent: that one of RH’s enemies tried to kill two birds with one bomb InfiniteStarPrince: oh snap plot twist Dame_Asphodel: who though?  Queen_Regent: RH is a crime lord Dame_Asphodel: who took on black mask Queen_Regent: I don’t want to do anything without proof

InfiniteStarPrince: black mask? Dame_Asphodel: crime lord got ass kicked by RH literally has a black mask as a face InfiniteStarPrince: so looking for one (1) ugly bastard Queen_Regent: evidence first. can’t execute mortal with zero InfiniteStarPrince: realm laws suck Dame_Asphodel: yet you’re still gonna be king sucks to suck Queen_Regent: For now i’ll ask RH for info he’s mad about the bomb worried I couldve been hurt InfiniteStarPrince: gross Dame_Asphodel: and after? Queen_Regent: well we’ll cross that bridge when we get there Dame_Asphodel:  I think you mean burn it Queen_Regent: whatever comes first

GothicDame and JazzHands chat

GothicDame: does he treat you well? JazzHands: very 

GothicDame: good always need more fertilizer JazzHands: Never change

If she was anyone else, Ellie walking through Jason’s apartment door with a dirty shovel over her shoulder while whistling a jaunty tune would have raised some concerns for the older Nightingale. Jazz decided to settle for fond exasperation over annoyance at her little sister’s literal (albeit forewarned) shovel talk, even though the aforementioned shovel was suspiciously covered in bloody dirt. 

However, any annoyance died and went to the realms when Ellie stood face to chest with Jason, one hand on her hip, shovel still over her shoulder and gave him a once-over. A four-foot-six teen standing off against her six-foot even boyfriend should not be allowed to be so comedic. 

“So, you’re the-“

“Red Hood.” 

“I was gonna say undead weenie, but that works too I guess.” 

It was just so ridiculous that Jazz couldn’t help but laugh at the two. Jason and Ellie spared her confused looks at her laughter, but didn’t comment as Danny entered the apartment as well, only he had an ecto smoothie in one hand and a bucket of popcorn in the other. The future Ghost King didn’t seem all that concerned about the scene he walked into, only pausing long enough to ask-

“Did I miss anything?” 

[I'm so glad to post a new part to the Regent! If you weren't aware, this also now lives on AO3.]

[armysantiny]

The Pale Idol – PSH

P: Seonghwa x gender neutral reader | G: fluff, fantasy, drabble | Inc: Baldur's Gate 3 au, vampire elf!Seonghwa, Seonghwa is basically Astarion, tiefling!reader, mentioned Jongho, mentioned Wooyoung, tiefling!Wooyoung, makeup artist!reader, mentioned San, drow!San, implied Hongjoong mention, high half elf!Hongjoong| Wc: 1.1k | W: mentioned blood, old bite marks | R: G

Min's notes: This idea struck and would not leave me until I wrote it out. This fic's quality is questionable lmao, but I like it and that's enough for me. If I like this enough I'll do headcanons abt what the other members are lol. Also fuck tumblr's 5 link/tags per line thing-

Seonghwa lifts his head from his phone when his name is called, abandoning the green room’s sofa in favour of the stool his makeup artist is calling him to. He’s not the last one to have his hair and makeup done, but he has been able to relax while the others get ready. Precious minutes of simply sinking into the sofa and scrolling through the device in his hand.

Once he settles in his chair, his head turns to y/n, politeness melting away into a smile. They’ve got the brightest expression on their face, an eagerness he can feel in abundance. It’s rather charming, and a wonderful start to his day.

Even if he’s feeling a tad bit peckish.

“Morning to you too, y/n,” he chuckles, letting the Tiefling go about putting on his makeup for the group’s upcoming stage. “You seem excited today, something lifting your spirits?”

“Hm? Oh, yes! I have this new palette, you have to see the shades, Seonghwa, it’s going to highlight your eyes perfectly for this stage!” Y/n answers, bringing over the eyeshadow palette in question for Seonghwa to inspect. Much to their luck—and intuition—the makeup gets the idol’s seal of approval, and y/n gets to work right away. And Seonghwa is just the perfect client; holding himself just how y/n needs him to, closing his eyes exactly when needed.

The perfect symbol of grace, Park Seonghwa is.

Just as their close attention comes to an end and y/n goes to put their equipment away, the Tiefling’s gaze catches on something. It’s so small, so inconspicuous, clearly a small miracle they ever notice it at all. Hidden just below Seonghwa’s collar, in the crook of his neck, are two little scars.

And old vampire bite. Pale skin, the red eyes, the bite…

“Am I free to sit back on the sofa..?” Seonghwa’s watching them. Right. He’s caught them staring, surely the elf is uncomfortable.

“Yes! Yes, sorry, of course… you’re free to go.”

“Great. Thank you as always, y/n. Can we talk later?”

Later. The promise of conversation after the day’s recordings is daunting. Why he even suggested it in the first place, Seonghwa can’t recall. Y/n had seen it, his bite marks, and now he owes them an explanation, at the very least. Or a well-meaning half-truth if he has the heart to lie to them. His brow furrows, or well he supposes they do because Seonghwa feels a stare burning into the side of his head, San watching him with all-too-knowing eyes.

Damn the Drow for being so observant and empathetic. But San is a ray of sunshine, warm and loving, so all is forgiven. As it always is.

“Hyung,” San begins, “everything alright? Do you need..?”

“No, no, I’m okay,” and he is, “just a few things on my mind. It’s nothing to worry about, San-ah, promise.” Seonghwa isn’t lying. There isn’t anything—or at very least there shouldn’t be—to worry about. The performance will go well, he’ll smooth things over will y/n and maybe he’ll bother their high half-elf leader for a bite or two once night falls.

The performance ends almost as soon as it begins, adrenaline coursing through Seonghwa’s undead veins as the music comes to an end. Even as the idol works his charms for the close-up camera shot and the audience screams their praises, the prospect of confronting y/n hangs back in the crevices of his mind. Just like that horrifying mindflayer tadpole he once harboured, but that’s neither here nor there. So, after a few minutes of waving to fans onstage, Seonghwa tags along with his members and heads backstage, the green room and a darling Tiefling awaiting him.

What fun.

Y/n can barely look Seonghwa in the eye when he and the others walk back in, hands clamming up while they spend another minute or two or three distracting themselves with mundane tasks. How are they supposed to confess to the vampire that they’ve figured out that Seonghwa isn’t just an elf? It’s a small miracle in of itself that Jongho pulls them aside, needing y/n’s assistance, a clasp stuck on the idol’s mic pack.

“…mind if I interrupt?” y/n nearly jumps out of their own skin as Jongho’s clasp comes unstuck. Hells, was Seonghwa always this good at moving around silently?

“Nothing to interrupt,” they say, composure recovered, “is this going to be a private conversation?”

He nods. Very well, they can give him that much.

Following Seonghwa to a rather unused section of the green room, y/n stays decidedly quiet. Sure, the Tiefling knows, but this is Seonghwa’s secret to sure. It’s not hard to see the nerves play out on his face either, the way the elf’s expression holds itself a little too stiff.

And then y/n blinks when Seonghwa just comes out with it.

“I should have told you sooner, y/n, really,” the elf continues, “but surely, my friend, you understand just how risky it is to admit my nature as a vampire. Especially in this line of work.” They understand. Of course they understand.

“I do, Seonghwa, really. And thank you for telling me, though…” y/n trails off, reaching for Seonghwa’s hands when said elf stares at them with panicked eyes. “It’s nothing bad, I promise! I didn’t want to intrude on your revelation, just now, but I did figure it out. Earlier.”

Never has the Tiefling seen Seonghwa so flustered before. They watch the way he clears his throat, avoids looking at them for all of ten seconds before plastering on a nervous grin.

“How— how did you..?”

Y/n launches into their explanation, suddenly very aware that they probably should have brought up their suspicions ages ago. Like how they hadn’t wanted to point out how rare it is for high elves to have crimson-red eyes, or how the idol is paler than most and spends a little longer just observing his own reflection. Not that y/n always knew, but the old bite mark did play a decently large part in them finally putting two and two together.

“I was that obvious, was I?”

“…a bit?” Seonghwa groans. His hair falling across his face as he hangs his head in defeat. All that effort, all that time spent crafting his illusion and y/n figured it all out. Just like that. Now they’re laughing! All bashful and giggly and—

Hells below he wants to hide.

“My dear, can we please put this conversation to bed? Preferably before I go and ask Wooyoung to smite me?”

Y/n nods, not without stifling the rest of their laughter.

Thank the hells.

© copyright work of armysantiny 2024-2025

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[astarionslittlejuicebox]

Reflected in Someone's Eyes (Part 2)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: Astario’s POV after he waits to see what the reader has been working so diligently on since the mirror conversation.

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: Fluff, embarrassment, feelings of unworthiness, mentions of blood/vampires/etc, minor spoilers, suggestive themes 

Word Count: 1243

Side Notes: E/C = Eye color, Y/N = your name, Y/R = your race, H/C = hair color

Part One

“Who knows? Only time will tell.” Y/N’s words rang through his head after that night. Quite a bit of events had happened to the party since the conversation Astarion had with Y/N that night, but the anticipation of what she had to show him was eating him alive. Tonight marked night three since he stumbled upon her engrossed in her mysterious book, and, after everyone had gone to bed for the night, Astarion waltzed his way towards his favorite tasty treat. She appeared as though she was waiting for him as she gave him a smile when he arrived at her tent entrance. 

“Goodie. You came. I finished my surprise.” The prideful smile on her face made Astarion’s undead heart skip a beat. He cocked an eyebrow at her whilst he spoke.

“Oh? Well, don’t keep me waiting darling. Let’s see what dark fantasies you’ve been dreaming of in that book.” Astarion held his hand out expectantly, but he was surprised when Y/N put a single sheet of paper from the book into his hand.

“It’s not perfect. It seems to be hard to capture the exact essence of your appearance.” Her words were barely a whisper as he looked at the intricate sketch of himself. He marveled at the care this woman had taken to try and capture even the smallest detail of his hair. “You are quite the frustrating subject to capture using pencils though.” He glanced from the picture to look at her, but she was looking at the piece of art in his hand. “You see, your hair at the top of your head lies a certain kind of way, and I have been trying ceaselessly to make sure I got that part right. Alas, I have done the best I could do, but it’s far from perfect.”

“Well, it is quite hard to capture perfection.” Astarion spoke softly as he softly looked at the woman beside him. He admired how her H/C was falling out of the bun, and how her eyes shone with a sense of accomplishment when she looked at her handiwork in his hands. 

“If I were back home, I would ask you to sit still long enough for me to try and paint a portrait of you.” Astarion knows his face gave away his shock. 

“My, my, my, my tasty little treat is also an artist. Who knew?” Even Astarion was shocked by the softness in his voice as he took a good look at his traveling companion. The days of travel had taken a toll on her, and the evidence was clear on her face. The long days and short nights had made her bright eyes shine just a little duller; the fight with the Githyanki had also left her with a few new cuts and bruises. She was not the same person he had held a dagger to her throat all those days ago, nor was Astarion the same person that he was when he met her.

“I do love art.” Y/N said, bringing Astarion back to reality. “I also love exploring new methods and stroke styles of the brush to see what effects it has with the paint. I’d honestly love to give painting you an attempt. If I hate it, then we shall invest in some gold for you to have a portrait done.” Astarion could see the genuine enthusiasm on his companion’s face, and he felt sick to his stomach. How could it be that a woman whom he was bedding for solely protection be so caring for him?

That’s right, Astarion thought, she has no idea that was my sole intention. But as the pale elf engraved the look of admiration on Y/N’s face and the gratefulness of such a sweet gesture somewhere deep in his mind, he felt guilty. He certainly didn’t deserve her kindness.

“Perhaps I may hold you up to that statement, darling.” The sincere words left his mouth. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he would love to have a painting of himself so he can see just how much 200 years of Cazador has affected his appearance. She gave him a heartwarming smile, but it faltered a bit as she looked over his face. 

“Why do you look like you’re guilty of something?” Her words made him frown slightly more than he had been previously. 

“Guilty? My darling the only thing I’m guilty of is looking too damn fine for you to capture on paper.” He casually said, but the pang of guilt still hung heavy on his chest. Astarion gave her his signature smile as he asked her if he could keep the picture she drew of him. She gave him a beautiful smile in response. 

“Absolutely. If I want to have a keepsake of you, I’ll just draw another one,” She gave him a wink, and Astarion chuckled. “I know it’s not as good as a mirror, but at least now you can see what your face kind of looks like.” 

“It does give me a good idea.” Astarion folded the paper and put it in his pocket, but he really didn’t want to fold the picture. He didn’t want to admit to Y/N how much her effort to give him a visual of himself touched his heart. He didn’t deserve this, but she is so selfless and willing to give him everything: her time, her art, her body, and her blood. “I shall see you later, my darling, for my nightly taste?” She gave him a small nod. 

“Unless you’d rather have some now?” Astarion smirked at her.

“Why not both?” He asked and she chuckled. “Kidding. But, I will take my taste now.” After he drank from her, he bid her good night. As he went to leave her tent, he turned back and looked at her.

“Thank you, again, Y/N. You continue to surprise me.” Afterward, he left her tent to go hunt for a delicious meal.

But that night, as Astarion lay in his bedroll, he took the picture out again to study it. He could see evidence of where Y/N had erased and redrew the top of his hair many times, and he could see she also struggled to get his lips just right. Moisture accumulated and fell from the corners of his eyes and onto the empty space around his portrait. Y/N was no professional artist, but she had attempted to sketch his portrait. She could’ve hidden it away too, kept it to herself until she perfected the very features she wanted to get right, but here her picture sits in his hands—fresh and far from the perfect picture. The pale elf wiped the water droplets off of the paper as he allowed himself to smile. Two hundred years of pain and torture, and this woman’s work over the last three days has sent an electric shock into Astarion’s chest; a shock that just might be enough to restart his heart. However, now that Astarion knew of his tasty friend’s talents, perhaps he could get her to draw more of him? The scars on his back had begun to weigh heavily on his mind since the night Y/N and Astarion shared. Maybe she would be willing to put on paper what secrets the scars on his back hold? But, for now, Astarion refolds the paper and puts it in the inside pocket of his backpack. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to the picture.

[stories4thepack]

Omg, something about Carol always being warm because of her powers and vampire R always cold because of the undead, perfect match 😍

The three times hot and cold clashed:

“We couldn’t fucking stop it.”

Carol shouts. Monica, Kamala and you all stand quietly in the cool breeze. Watching as your girlfriend paces helplessly in the field you had crash landed in

“Carol it’s alright.”

“No it’s not. “

Carol shouts, making Monica fall suddenly silent. You can see the blonde’s fists beginning to glow as she speaks to the others, and you know full well she’s in the verge of loosing control.

“Listen, we have time to revere this and prevent her from stealing earths sun.”

You say, stepping forward with your arms raised as you attempt to calm her.

“WHAT IF WE DON’T, SHE IS STRONGER THAN I ORIGINALLY THOUGHT. IF I FAIL AGAIN”

Her body bursts with that solar light making Kamala and Monica stumble backwards, but you leap forward, pulling Carol into a tight hug. You hear her gasp, startled, but she slowly wraps her arms around you, allowing your freezing frame to calm her. Letting the light fade away once more.

“That- That was something.”

Monica mutters as Kamala’s grin grows when Carol lets her head fall onto your shoulder.

——————————————————————

”Alright then, are you sure about this Y/n?”

Carol asked. You both were stood on a moon far away from Earth, with a phone placed up against a rock to record the event for Kamala back home.

“So ready Captain”

You grin, throwing a thumbs up at the camera knowing full well Kamala will be jumping out of the couch for this.

“Alright”

Carol smiles, her hands glowing in that same, glorious way that never failed to catch you in a trance.

“Start small?”

You ask, receiving a determined nod in return. You slip easily into your defensive stance, focusing on the emptiness where your heart should be beating.

You feel your instincts to take over, eyes burning red as you hand moves impossibly fast from your side to catch one of carols solar blasts. You watch the light twirling between your fingers, licking at your skin like golden flames.

“I’ll be honest, I thought I was gonna throw you across the planet”

Carol beams, making you chuckle, throwing the light into the stone ground, feeling the pebbles flick up at your ankles.

“Again.”

You growl, Carol punches the air In front of her, sending a second beam in your direction. You catch it with ease, this time throwing it suddenly back the way it came. Carol barley dodges the attack by rolling onto her knees sending a beam of light over at you. It hits you square in the chest, making you stumble backwards, but you dig your heal into the ground, countering the burning blast with your own undead coldness, tearing the attack apart in a flash of blue light before it could actually damage you.

Carol watches shocked, before you use your inhuman speed to appear in front if her. Tackling her to the ground, laughing at her surprised expression.

”I think I’m good.”

You whisper, placing you hands firmly on her shoulders to prevent her from getting up. She smiles, grasping the back of your head and bringing you into a kiss. Letting her hands wander up your chest, as your lips before against hers. She pulls away, kissing gently up your neck to your jaw until she reaches your ear

“are you sure about that?”

She whispers, before sending a blast into your chest. Throwing you across the planet, crashing roughly into the hard ground. Sand and stones fly up around where you land, a small crater looming around you. You watch as Carol appears above you, looking both concerned and as if she’s trying not to laugh. You point at her, sounding as stern as possible:

“EDIT THAT OUT!”

——————————————————————

Carol could feel the tears sliding down her burning cheeks before she had properly adjusted to her surroundings. Sweat flowed from her forehead as she ran her fingers through her hair, heart pounding painfully against her ribs. Every night she has one of these nightmares and yet, they never cease to scare her senseless.

“Carol?”

You mutter, shuffling closer to where you had crouched by the woman. You can hear her gasps for air as she hides her face behind her hands. Her body shook as if she was cold, but you could feel the heat radiating off her and it didn’t help that she practically had the power of a burning star boiling through her veins.

“Y/n”

“Hey, I’m here. I’m right here.”

You whisper. At first, it was strange to see her like this, weak, scared, vulnerable. But now, it brought a throbbing sense of sorrow to your undead heart because you knew, behind her stoic and strong demeanour, that she was a broken, fearful mess.

“May I touch you?”

You ask softly, pulling the sobbing woman into your arms as she nods. You sink into her bed, allowing Carol to curl into your chest, her hand clutching the fabric of your shirt.

“It’s alright, I promise.”

You hum, tracing small circles along her spine.

“You’re so cold.”

She says, hiding her face in the crook of your neck

“Sorry.”

“No. M’like it.”

She says, snuggling impossibly closer. You can feel the rapidly beating of her heart calming down as her body cools, her breath fading into soft snores.

[cultofdixon]

That’s okay, I’m here

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Established Relationship • Even when the others put the blame on her, you were always so kind. Loving. Caring. Exactly what Lydia needed, especially when she was at her lowest • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Past Abuse / Injuries / Scars / Canon Violence / Mentions of Pregnancy / PTSD

Requested by: Anon

“Gotta eat something before we go” Y/N smiles setting a plate for Lydia down before sitting across from her at the picnic tables.

Lydia started to pick at her food while the rest of the Kingdom packed up ready to go. Her guilt started to get to her all over again, and flashes of the pikes blocked her vision for a moment.

“Hey”

The poor girl looks up seeing Y/N’s concerned expression as she extended her hand for her to take. But Lydia was hesitant at first before gently taking it.

“It’s going to be okay, you’re going to like Alexandria.”

“What if—-“

“No.” Y/N sudden with her interruption made the negative thoughts fade instantly. “You’ll be safe and if anybody tries to mess with you, they are going to have to get through me.”

Why is she so protective of me… Lydia frowns releasing her hand so that she could finish the food that was given to her.

“Y’all ready?” Daryl approaches the two once h finished helping Carol get her and Ezekiel’s belongings on one of the wagons. “Think we’ll beat most of the storm but as long as we get our people where we need to go, it’s all good.”

“We’re finishing up.” Y/N smiles up at Daryl before rising from the picnic table. “I’m gonna grab my coat for Lydia. Then we’ll head out” she continues to smile as she left to get such leaving the two alone for a moment.

“Is she always so optimistic?”

Daryl felt a bit of a smile creep up on his lips as he held the strap to his crossbow tightly.

“No”

The group started to make their way to Hilltop, their first stop, through the storm that was calm for a start. Carol kept close to Daryl the entire trip as she watches Y/N stick with Lydia making sure she was okay this entire ride. Even when some of the residents they walk with were being rude.

“Why are we letting her in our group?” Alden frowns gripping the leads to his horse. “It’s her fault. Should leave her to the undead”

“Alden” Y/N glares at the man moving Lydia to the other side of her. “Stop it”

“What. I’m just—-“ Alden was suddenly bucked off his horse making the group stop a second to collect themselves.

Lydia frowns stepping away from the commotion as she looks at Y/N confused on what just happened. Alden unfortunately picked Y/N’s horse to take. A horse that is trained in reading. Making it stand up. Hence why he fell.

“Don’t listen to him, okay?”

“It’s hard to ignore when everyone is like that…”

“Takes time, kid” Daryl chimes in checking her person before helping them get back on track.

The mourning mother watches how protective her close friends were to this traitor that got a lot of their own killed. Her son’s head on that pile will forever haunt her and she won’t ever know, when she’ll stop blaming the girl.

When they reached a certain moment in the trip back that lead to Lydia straying from everyone. No one spoke up if they saw such happen or even when Carol decided to follow her. The second her disappearance was caught on by Y/N she started to panic.

“Someone could’ve killed her D”

“Don’t jump to that conclusion so fast”

“Well I’m sorry! I’m sorry that I care! That I care about the poor girl not only getting attacked by one of our own, but by her abusive fucking mother who believes in physical punishment. It’s not just our goddamn own that I’m worried about” Y/N snaps through blurred vision caused by her tears feeling herself get pulled into Daryl’s embrace squeezing her to calm her before this gets worse for her.

“We’ll find her. I promise, alright?” Daryl reassures her the best he could.

Thankfully, Carol brought Lydia back. Y/N felt a wave of relief when Lydia came back to the group as she didn’t hesitate to hug the girl feeling her return the hug along with a few tears breaching.

“I’ve gotcha, kid” Y/N reassures, rubbing circles on her back to soothe her.

As the two reunited, Daryl turned to Carol seeing the confusion linger on her expression as he was going to ask what’s wrong but she had other matters to address.

“Can I stay with you?”

“What about Ezekiel?”

“Daryl…”

“You’re more than welcome to, yknow that. Just when are yea gonna talk about—-“

“Not now” Carol interrupts Daryl and physically leaves the conversation to get the group moving once more.

Finally returning home lead to some wholeheartedness that was much needed after the heart breaking days…

“Mom!” Judith came running toward Michonne with the biggest smile on her face as her mother met her halfway hugging her tightly.

The warmth Lydia felt by watching the little ones meet with their parents like it’s been ages. She suddenly flinches when a snowball was thrown right at her, making her look at the culprit for tossing it which happened to be a little girl that looked to be around four years old. Her piercing blue eyes stared right at her making Lydia feel a bit anxious until she rolled up another ball and tossed it at her. That lead to Lydia finally doing the same and tossing at the small child that bursts out in giggles before going to get others with snowballs.

The snowball fight brought much needed happiness and the sounds of laughter from the children made a few of them forget temporarily about what happened.

As Lydia was pelted by a few more snowballs, she spotted the same child that first hit her run straight for Daryl and without a second thought he picked her up. She’s never seen him smile that much before and it clicked to her.

“Daryl has a daughter?” Lydia questions Y/N as she couldn’t help the laugh that escapes her.

“Yes, yes he does” She smiles making her way to the two as Lydia was even more surprised seeing the little one reach for Y/N and be moved into her embrace.

Y/N returns to Lydia with the little one in her arms and the archer trailing behind her.

“Robin, this is Lydia. She’ll be living with us”

The little one Robin looks at Lydia with those piercing blue eyes once more, the same pair she shares with Daryl before giving her a questioning look.

“Do you like bunnies?”

“Yes?” Lydia was afraid that answer was wrong when Robin whipped her head toward Daryl, but she had nothing to worry about.

“See! You gotta stop killing bunnies, bozo!”

Daryl rolls his eyes taking Robin from Y/N’s embrace and carrying the little one like she was luggage as she started to squirm and giggle like crazy.

“She looks so much like Daryl…”

“Which pisses me off given I carried that girl for nine months” Y/N laughs slightly. “Ready to go home?”

Home? Lydia nods following Y/N to the house as she couldn’t remember the last time she stayed in one. Even her childhood one growing up before all hell broke loose.

“I’ll get your room and Carol’s set up, relax while I go do such” Y/N smiles squeezing her shoulder before heading upstairs leaving Lydia to hesitantly enter the living room where Carol held Robin in her lap as she shows her aunt the drawings she’s made.

Daryl watches her shoulders tense as it was for Carol’s glaring in her direction. He sighs petting Dog when he brought his head to rest on his knee, knowing part of him was upset. Robin watches the two as she got up from her aunt’s lap setting her drawings down on the coffee table before going upstairs to grab something from her room.

“She has too much energy for me” Carol laughs softly receiving a small smile from Daryl in response as he got up to go check on his girl to see what’s taking her too long. “I’m not going to bite. You can sit” she suddenly tells Lydia the second the archer left the room as she took Daryl’s seat hesitantly.

Which resulted in Dog returning his head on now Lydia’s knee waiting for the much needed head pats that she provided. He should be a therapy dog. Because that made her relax finally.

Daryl reached the second floor finding Y/N holding their daughter as Robin was whispering something to her before stopping when he reached her line of sight.

“You okay bunny?” Daryl frowns seeing her upset look as Robin tugged at Y/N’s shirt to be let down and instead of going to him she ran right into her room. “Y/N did I—“

“No, it has nothing to do with you.” Y/N states about to check on their little one when she came running out with one of her studies and right into the spare room for Lydia. “Think she’s okay?”

“Robin?”

“Carol”

“No, I don’t.” Daryl frowns leaning against the stair railing. “I don’t know how we’ll talk about it.”

“It’ll take time, hun” Y/N approaches her husband bringing her arms around him as he straightens up to hold her properly. “When she’s ready, she’ll talk about it”

The archer sighs to such worried for his best friend but Y/N was right. He couldn’t really do much until she was ready to talk about such. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t check up on her.

The first few nights were uncomfortable. Getting used to a new environment and Carol trying to wrap her head around how easy it was for Y/N to let Lydia in. The ones on the pikes meant to more than just those who stumbled across it…

Y/N woke to tiny hands touching her face as she instantly checks the window to see it was still dark. She reaches for the lantern on the nightstand turning it on knowing that would stir the man beside her but given it was Robin that wanted her attention, Daryl would’ve wanted to be awake for her.

“What’s wrong love?” Y/N frowns rubbing the sleep from her eyes as Robin squeezes the bunny plush she had.

“Lydia’s crying, mommy…” The worry in her tone instantly struck Y/N as she slowly gets up from the bed. Y/N picks up Robin placing her in her spot in the bed before going to check on Lydia.

“I’ll take care of it, get some sleep love”

Robin frowns from her new spot as Daryl brought himself to sit up in the bed bringing himself against the headboard before letting his daughter snuggle up in his embrace resting against his chest. Dog instantly jumping and bringing himself as close as possible.

Lydia quickly wiped away the tears when she watches the door be pushed open seeing Y/N in her boots with her jacket on and another held in her hands.

“Come on, let’s take a walk”

The poor girl was even more confused but trusted Y/N enough to go do such. She even let Dog come with them once he heard the front door open. Winter was finally leaving and the snow was melting as it was nice enough not to wear multiple layers but still a jacket would be nice. Lydia waited and waited for Y/N to talk or anything but they just walked most of Alexandria.

Right as they started to head back to their residence ending up back on the main street, Lydia stops Y/N.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you being so nice to me? After everything…everything I’ve done”

“Their deaths weren’t your fault. It was Alpha—“

“My mother! My mother killed them…killed Henry. You guys should’ve just given me back”

“And let her hurt you? Use you? And for what? Tell me what she would’ve used you for that benefits you.” Y/N frowns as there’s no answer to such. She knows that. “You matter too, Lydia. Your life matters and we—-Henry—-helped you get out of that situation.”

“Why do you care so much…I’m not worth the trouble, Y/N…”

“Yes. Yes you are. I will tell you every day for the rest of your life if I have to. That your life matters. Your feelings matter. And you didn’t deserve to be in that situation…” Y/N watches the tears spill from Lydia’s eyes as she carefully wipes them away. “As much as it is the apocalypse and nothing is the old normal anymore, you deserve a normal life just like the rest of us. I’m not letting Alpha ever lay a hand on you ever again.” She brought Lydia instantly into her arms holding her for however long she wanted and to be frank, the comfort she was receiving—-Lydia didn’t want to let go ever.

“You understand don’t you…”

“All too well, hun”

Once spring came around, Alexandria started the gardening process along with Aaron developing the training camp he’s planning to commence the second summer comes. For now they were simply doing routine. Building back up and trading with the remaining communities.

“Do you even understand this?” Lydia frowns reading the same thing Robin was as she shrugs.

“Daddy can barely read it”

“Hey” Daryl scoffs playfully crossing his arms as Robin couldn’t help the mischievous smile but it got Lydia to laugh. “I can read it. Don’t be rude now”

“I’ve got mama’s smarts” Robin smiles kicking her feet on the bar stool as Daryl sets down the water for her.

“Ain’t denying that for sure” Daryl chuckles along with Lydia as she went back to reading when Y/N finally came out of their bedroom after packing. “You really wanna go alone? I can with yea. Rosita can come check on the girls every now and then”

“She just had a baby, plus Carol is in the house. But yes…I’m fine going on the run alone. Have to drop something off anyway”

“Did she leave a letter last time?”

“No but it’s worth a shot at least from my end” Y/N and Daryl were referring to the exchanging of letters with Maggie since she’s left Hilltop with her son for some time now.

“I’ll go with you”

The two turn to the stairs finding Carol is packed and ready. Clearly she listened to the two talk last night about the run, Y/N was heading on.

“Carol we’ve got shit to do here”

“Swear jar!” Robin yells from her seat watching Daryl take out a coin from his pocket handing it to her.

“You have Lydia and everyone else. I can go with Y/N on this run” Carol states firmly as Y/N tended to such and even more so when she turned to her. “Right?”

“Sure, I’m leavin’ now”

“Great. I’ll meet you outside” Carol steps out and Y/N gave Daryl a concerning look as she grabs his vest carefully.

“If I don’t come back in a week, she would’ve murdered me”

“Mmm. Well that’s too bad then” Daryl smiles getting smacked in the chest as Lydia turns to Robin seeing her not phased expression. She’s their kid. She’s used to the antics.

“Seriously though?”

“You know I’m comin’ after yea regardless if you don’t come back in a week” Daryl gives a quick kiss to his girl before letting go so that she could give Lydia a hug and Robin a kiss on top of her head.

Once she left, Lydia gave Daryl a concerned look as she still didn’t know Carol that well but she didn’t have a good feeling.

“Y/N is tough. She can handle Carol if she gives her trouble. But she also cares to much and would let Carol speak her mind of everythin’”

“Even if it hurts her?” Lydia frowns as Robin quickly turns to her dad with the same worried look she shares with her mother. Daryl frowns not knowing what to say to such.

Even if it was yes.

“What are we looking for?”

“More baby stuff for Coco. Some clothes for the new arrivals from the Kingdom and the usual. Cans. Containers. Weapons. Etcetera.” Y/N continues to lead the way after they had gotten out of her truck. “Even check snares in a few places that I’ve set up”

“Daryl didn’t?”

“Well, I know how to set them up and during those times he was searching for something important so I took up that job”

“Mm. He’s probably proud huh? Back at the prison when you cut your hand open setting up a trap, he swore not to let you do it anymore” Carol laughs slightly, picking up the pace to walk beside her friend.

“Eh never said I was good at setting them up. They get placed eventually. After a few mishaps”

The traps were first before checking a warehouse they manage to find on the drive. Carol kept her composure the entirety of the run but when all they talked about was what they were doing, how Robin is, and everything else that falls under the category of “don’t talk about the pike moment and how it happened”…she was starting to get fed up.

Reality was that Y/N didn’t care if she came or not. She was going alone originally with a task at hand, routine stuff. She expected normalcy and not to talk about such unless Carol really needed to do so.

But instead of trying to find some ease in what happened, Carol went for the throat.

“Can you enlighten me on something?”

Y/N looks up from the squirrel she was skinning and nods to Carol. Even if she knew this wasn’t going to go well.

“How can you let her in so easily?”

“Lydia?”

“Who else would I be talking about?”

“She doesn’t deserve this treatment from you or the others who are just as angry. And my actions are only to protect her and remind her that what happened to her, doesn’t define her”

“What happened to her?” Carol scoffs rising to her feet. “What did happen to her? That tops her existence in our communities that lead to her mother taking the lives of plenty and my SON.” She snaps which lead to Y/N skinning more than the rabbit in her hand as she tosses the naked vermin on the rack for their fire leaving the fur in her lap while she assessed her hand. “Why are you ignoring—-“

“I’m not ignoring! What happened, happened. You have no idea how much I wish that something could’ve changed that outcome—“

“I—-“

“Without giving Lydia back to her mother” Y/N suddenly hissed to the pain from the gash in her hand and instead of helping her, Carol continued to glare at her friend while she reached for her pack. “She deserves to feel safe in this hellish world”

“You shouldn’t care so much…because please, trying to save this girl from her abusive mother won’t make up for no one saving you from yours”

That flipped the switch in her mind that not only made her want to lash out for the words one of her closest friends had said to her, but to also shut down. Clearly. One took over the other.

“Go home”

“What?”

“Take the truck, with what we’ve got and go home.”

“Y/N. No I’m not—-“

“Just. Go. Before I do or say something I’ll regret” her tone was more stern this time compared to the other things she has said. Carol was smart this time to do what was suggested.

________

Daryl frowns from his spot on the bottom bunk watching Y/N get dressed, which he’s done so many times but he didn’t notice the cigarette burn scars on her right shoulder.

“Who gave you those”

Y/N tensed instantly finding it difficult to put her shirt on as she balled it up in her hands.

“My mom” Y/N frowns staring at her feet. “It’s not the only ones. They’re just…not cigarette burns…”

“…You don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable”

“You showed me yours…”

“Doesn’t mean you have to as well” Daryl rises from his seat wrapping his arms around her bringing her close. “Just know they don’t define you, shows that you survived…a smart sexy lady told me that once” he couldn’t help his smile listening to her softly laugh to such. Knowing she told him that.

“I’ll tell you one day”

“In the mean time…I’m gonna continue loving on my woman” He states kissing her shoulder then her neck and cheek making her smile return.

________

When Y/N’s truck returned to Alexandria with no Y/N, Carol watches her daughter’s happiness face when her mother didn’t exit from the vehicle.

“She’s safe and will be back soon” Carol knelt down to the child’s level as Robin reached for who was beside her, in this case Michonne.

“Why did you leave her?” Lydia becoming a bit more bold when talking to Carol.

“She told me to come back—-“

“So?” Lydia frowns crossing her arms. “You don’t have to like me or care about me…but you don’t have to punish Y/N for doing so…she’s still your family”

Damn girl Carol frowns watching Daryl approach the crowd as she straightens up about to tell him exactly what happened but instead when there was no sign of Y/N—he turned around to get his bike and head out without any word from her.

“Let’s go inside, Robin. Your mama will be back soon” Michonne reassures the small child as Robin latched onto her leg trying not to cry.

It was night, and the archer started to worry that Y/N may have crossed the enemy line. Not that that would stop him from saving her. He knew she can handle herself if anything were to happen but something did and she’s not home. She normally comes home. His worry started to blind his actions as he didn’t bother hiding his bike well enough to follow the skid marks left by her truck.

Daryl hesitantly enters the warehouse they were holding up in and finding the fire still lit in the center of the facility. His whole body relaxes finding Y/N still sitting by such, but with tears in her eyes.

“Love…”

Y/N looks up from the fire seeing her husband approaching her with the worry radiating from him causing the tears to spill more.

“She didn’t hurt me”

“She did. Just not phys—-“ Daryl stops seeing the bandage on her hand. “Did she—“

“No. I was skimming the rabbit and just. Lost my train of thought” Y/N frowns wiping away her on-going tears making her sigh. “Motherfucker…”

“What did she say to you” Daryl frowns sitting beside her and keeping his attention on her while she kept hers away to avoid crying even more. “Y/N…”

“No one deserves a mother like Alpha. I had a mother like her and I had no one. So yeah…maybe that influenced why I want to protect Lydia with my life. But using my trauma to hurt me? To make me feel guilty for what I decided? Tell me why that’s the only thing that stayed the same from the old world” She bites down on the inside of her cheek trying really hard to stop the tears. “Using people’s trauma against them”

The archer brought himself closer taking her injured hand into his being careful with holding. But the gesture lead her to rest her head against his shoulder. “A lot of our people are heartbroken by what happened, but that doesn’t justify what Carol did.” He kisses the top of her head feeling her relax against him and the tears slow. “You’re stronger than most not to lash back”

“I wish it would be easier…”

“What, love?”

“To talk…fall apart…everything”

“It’s easier when you’re not alone” Daryl rests his head on top of hers. “I’m right here”

It took a minute for Y/N to let it all go, that’s something she shares with Daryl. They do their best to stay put together for those around them but keeping it all together for so long will one day unravel. At least they have the other that understands.

When returning to Alexandria, Lydia woke the sleeping Robin from her spot right beside her on the couch as she slides off running tiredly to Y/N’s open arms. She held her baby until Robin fell asleep comfortable in her embrace adjusting to bring her attention to Lydia approaching the three.

“Are you okay?” Lydia frowns watching Y/N nod as she rubs circles on her little one’s back.

“Are you?”

“No…”

“That’s okay, I’m here”