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merakiui · 8 months

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his blueberry eyes (anagapesis in paradise).

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, death/murder of reader, obsession, codependency, emotional manipulation, psychological abuse, mentions of self-harm/suicide attempt, brief mention of pregnancy + loss of baby, vague mentions of binge-eating/disordered eating, angst, characters written as 18+ note - the color blue haunts azul. // loosely based on clingy, codependent bf azul.

the prelude - forever lost in cerulean paradise.

Azul Ashengrotto, a man forever bound in burdensome blue, surfaces from the numbing sweetness of an all-consuming slumber and finds the tops of his hands are littered with deep, dark, desperate scratches. They’re furious and distinct, standing out like pearly teeth on black tile, spotting his pale, paper-thin skin like a child’s poor attempt at proper handwriting. Carefully, he runs a trembling finger over the length of one as it travels from ring finger to the delicate bone of his wrist. A wet laugh bubbles out of him, ink-stained and heartbreakingly pained. He wipes tar-colored saliva from the edge of his mouth, smearing it, and shudders through another laugh. The sound wavers as if caught in his esophagus, pronounced choked and raw.

“Ah… I did it again.”

He sits back on his haunches, small and scared like the squishy thing he once was all those years ago, and inhales a steadying breath. His vision, once narrowed so scarily slim, widens to encapsulate the rest of the sitting room, which is cast in a cool glow from the crystalline cityscape beyond. He spies his haunted reflection in the glass, his hair mussed and matted. From sweat, most likely. It’s unsightly, his unkempt, ugly appearance, but it’s him staring back.

Looking on with those bewitching blueberry eyes.

Swallowing thickly, he pushes a swoop of silver hair out of his face and whispers, “I fell asleep…again. Right. Again. That makes it—what is it now? Four times in a week? No, not quite… I fell asleep, but then I…”

His gaze slides from the windows to the floor. Lying sprawled and stiff, amidst shattered glass and crumpled, lemon-hued tulips, is the love of his life.

“Ah, I see now.” He runs two fingers over the injuries on his hand. His nose wrinkles once and then twice. His throat is set aflame, constricting like a python coiled around its prey. Blueberry eyes sink in a rising tide, overtaken by tears spotting a weary lash line. “My world… My angelfish…”

He forces himself to stand on rubbery legs. He stumbles once, reaches for the coffee table’s reliable support like a newborn grasping their mother’s outstretched finger, and peers at a shattered portrait splayed on the floor. It’s you on your wedding day, flashing a toothy grin at the camera, while he holds you close, an arm secured around your waist. Clinging to you like you were the only buoy in a rocky sea. Planting parasitic roots by way of attraction, and you were simply too blinded by the charms of shimmering, sparkling cheer to realize. So was he in that regard—struck dumb with a too-large love, unable to handle the full capacity of what it meant to fall into a sugary-sweet romance.

It’s a happy picture, one of many, but then the memories of the many elude him at this moment. He, the brilliant, benevolent actor, struggles to differentiate the real from the fake. What is a smile if not another foggy reflection of something far sadder? What is laughter if not the sounds of a hollowed sweetheart howling joyous tunes to placate?

His fingers curl around the wooden table. It’s too familiar and, as if having touched something hot, he jerks away. Azul turns his hands over, searching for imperfections he’s already found. Slowly, he pivots to confront the body.

“My darling angelfish, please wake up. It’s not… It’s not very nice of you to play pretend. We’ve been over this.” He shakes his head and steps around the overturned vase and puddle of flower-spotted water. He lowers to your height, offering a hand you don’t take. “Please, my love. I’m sorry for scaring you. I won’t do it again. I… I’m getting better, you see. I’m doing it for us. I want to get better. I promised I would, didn’t I? Aren’t I a man of my word?”

You remain there, eyes shut in blissful permanence. Azul sucks in a breath through grit teeth. You’re always so…difficult. Sometimes. Not always. And even when you act like this, he still cherishes you. But fighting is not something he loves, and he wants this feud to end sooner rather than later.

Azul Ashengrotto hates the sharp, bitter sides to his marriage.

“I can be patient,” he says, though it’s more of a consolation than a promise. “I’ll be patient. But, really, being vindictive will get you nowhere, my dear. Haven’t we been over this?”

Still, no matter what he says, you don’t stir.

He allows silence to fill the room to a suffocating degree.

One minute passes. Then two. He drums his fingers along a newly forming bruise on his arm.

Now it’s three.

Four.

Five.

It’s too quiet without your pretty voice filling the empty room, filling the hollow in his heart, filling the gaps in his brain to snuff any other self-destructive thoughts from pushing through.

“I love you,” he whispers, less forceful this time. “And… And I’m sorry. Truly, I mean it. I’ll never put my hands on you again. Never. And I’ll go back to therapy. I won’t skip my sessions. I’ll even take my meds!” A crooked smile stretches across his lips. “I promise. I won’t lie to you. I’ll leave the cooking to you. I won’t touch sharp objects. I’ll stop hiding knives from you. I’ll be honest from now on. So please…” His voice cracks, weak and raspy. “P-Please… Please don’t ignore me…”

Azul reaches out to you, fitting his trembling hand in yours. It’s cold. He brings it to his face, kisses the top of it, and then cradles it close. His shoulders shake, wracked with silent sobs.

It’s cold.

His breath hitches.

You’re cold.

“Angelfish, please…” He sniffles. The tears are already falling in thick, salty rivulets. He’s always been an ugly crier. “Please don’t leave me. Without you I…”

His untrimmed nails dig into your palm, and a great sob shudders through his body when he presses his thumb into your wrist to check your pulse.

It’s stopped.

He scrubs his face with his free hand. A fruitless effort. The tears won’t cease.

Without you, I’m nothing.

He gathers you, stiff, cold you, in his arms and holds you like you’re a treasured childhood plushy who’s lost its stuffing. His reflection blinks back at him, blueberry eyes awash in watery tragedy.

Without you, I’m all alone.

He spies the markings on your neck and his throat closes up. He grabs your face between both hands, searching it for any indication of life. A lie, surely. You’re just pretending. You’ve always done that, putting on acts to keep him and everyone else pleased. You, the best actor, knew him better than he knows himself. Because, in spite of the loose, fraying seams, you took them, poured remnants of your heart into each tear, and stitched them up until they were better again. You’ve sewn him anew when he thought all hope was lost.

So it’s impossible. A lie, definitely.

You’re a pretender, and he’s the captivated audience member. Soon you’ll open your beautiful eyes and shout, “I got you! You should have seen the look on your face!” And the cycle will repeat itself. He’ll pretend to be okay and you’ll follow along with a sweet smile, chopping vegetables with the same knife he used to threaten his own life days prior.

You can’t fool him.

Only you do. And you have.

He peels your eyelids open. Your listless stare pierces something in his brain, wires the circuitry correctly so that Point A and Point B can connect.

With a horrified gasp, Azul drops your limp corpse. Your head smacks against the floorboards, but you don’t groan in pain. Because there isn’t any pain to be felt. Because you’re not going to wake up. Because this is the final act and the curtain has closed on your skillful pretending.

Azul Ashengrotto, a man forever bound in burdensome blue, has lost the very person who once made him feel so whole.

the first vow - to have and to hold.

“We should make a baby.”

In the first month of being newlyweds, you’d told him that. He leaned over to nudge you with his hip while you painted swirling designs on a blank kitchen wall. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not opposed to it.”

You pulled away from your canvas and grinned. “Neither am I.”

“Sooo,” he encouraged, nodding, unable to curb the glee in his curling smile. “What? Should we make one?”

“Can we?”

“This conversation feels rather circular, my dear.”

“You’re circular.” You stuck your tongue out at him and dipped your brush in a bright blue. “I’m gonna paint an entire field of cornflowers on this wall.”

Azul hesitated at the sudden change in subject, considered the meaning of a cornflower, and snorted in amusement. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “If you want a baby, just say so and I’ll give you one.” He nosed your neck, humming into your skin. Sneaky hands slipped under your loose cotton T-shirt to cradle your stomach. “I once read a statistic that claimed marriage improves the outcome of a pregnancy. Shall we see if it’s true?”

You rested your free hand over his. “If you help me paint.”

“You know I’m no good at art.”

“Anyone can be an artist.”

“Angelfish—”

You shifted in his arms and held up a clean paintbrush. “Anyone, Zul. That includes you.”

He stared at the brush, frowning. “I’m nowhere near as good as you.”

“I’ll have none of that talk.” You rested your head against his chest and peered up at him through your lashes. A pleasant smile softened your face. “I don’t want this wall to be my masterpiece. I want it to be ours.”

“Yes… Yes, I’m aware. But even so—”

“The best things come in two, don’t they? Come on. You won’t know if you’ll enjoy something until you’ve tried it.”

“But I have, dear.”

“Not with me you haven’t.”

Azul laugh-scoffed. “Stubborn,” he chided, pinching your side and shaking his head in disbelief. One hand slid out from beneath your shirt to grasp the brush. “I suppose I can try. An entire field of cornflowers won’t paint itself now, will it?” He winked.

“That’s the spirit! I think blue suits this room, don’t you?”

“I’m struggling to see your vision, darling.”

“It’s a nice color. One of my favorites. And…” You turned in his arms to press your lips to his cheek. “Blue is you.”

He was smiling; he could feel it—the tug of toothy jubilance. “Is that right?”

“It is! I thought that the moment we met. If it weren’t for your pretty eyes, I don’t think I’d have approached you.”

“Ah, right. You thought they were rather lovely, didn’t you?” His hold on you tightened as he recalled the memory. “How did you say it? ‘Sir, I just had to come up to you to compliment your eyes! They’re the nicest shade of bewitching blueberry blue I’ve ever seen.’ You said it like that, yes? And it was the first time I’d ever heard such a strangely specific compliment. Normally, most go for the outfit or the hair.”

“But you liked it, didn’t you?” you say, singing the question like a pansophical siren.

“I did. I…really did. I still do, in fact.”

Your body shook with your laughter. “Then it’s not so strange after all.”

“Not in the slightest.”

His fingers brushed your navel, a fleeting touch that turned giggles into shivers. You put your brush to the wall, but no designs bloomed. He did much the same, meeting your brush halfway, bristles dipped in friendly yellow. Only after he’d marred the wall with it did he realize his error.

You always ruin everything, he thought, resenting his clumsy ways. Everything you’ve ever touched, you ruin.

“Ooh, yellow and blue. That’s pretty. Like sunflowers and cornflowers!”

“But I… Your blue—I completely tarnished it.” He couldn’t help it; the words rushed out.

“What? No way! I like it.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, it’s true. It adds something to the blue. Makes it come together, you know?”

Azul stared at the wall, his face scrunched with poorly veiled vitriol. “I fail to see how that logic tracks.”

You gathered both brushes and set them down on the countertop before turning fully in his arms. “Hey, it’s okay. We can paint over it if you want. But… Well, personally, I think we should keep it.”

“Why?” It came out hushed, a broken murmur.

“Because it’s like happiness amidst sadness.” Like the angel you’ve always been, you reached up to cradle his face between your warm, gentle hands. He melted in your hold, weak to the ways in which you often lifted him up. “Too much of anything in abnormal amounts is unhealthy, so we need happiness to balance the sadness. Plus, if this room was solely blue, I might go crazy.”

He wanted to reject your explanation, gripe and groan about how it was much too fluffy and foolish, but you were right. You have always been right with emotions, reading him well enough to pick apart his tells.

It’s your lips on his that brought him back to himself. He blinked when you separated.

“You’re not perfect. No one is. Not even me, and this wall definitely isn’t going to be perfect either. But it’ll be special because we made it. Because it’s a unique combination of us.”

Azul felt himself nodding along.

“So don’t worry. Sometimes mishaps like these are for the best. They help put things into perspective—to show us something we might not have seen before.”

“Like painting a new picture.”

“Exactly!” You squeezed his hand. “So no pity parties, got it? Not unless we’re going to throw one together and have snacks and tea.”

He exhaled shakily, reciprocating your affectionate touch. “Thank you, my love.”

You smiled so beautifully that he was compelled to enshroud you entirely and keep you with him in a cage of limbs. To ensure you’d never leave. To keep you backdropped by a work-in-progress wall forever.

And for the first two years of your new life with him, you remained in that cozy, quaint house, adding details to the wall when you could. The kitchen shaped itself nicely, embroidered in an array of blue hues, accompanied by sunny yellows and frilly whites. Every morning, you’d stand at the counter and cook, ever the early riser, and he’d drag himself in just after the sun had peaked in the sky; and together you would eat in front of that wall, tied together by the bright, beautiful wonders of young love.

Sometimes it was the yummy temptations of good food that brought you together. Other times it was each other, bodies pressed flush. Clothes wrinkling and coming off in heaps. Windows left open in the aftermath to bring in sweet spring breezes. Gathering each other and sitting in the bath, giggling about something silly. More kissing and touching; playful squeezing while washing the other. If Azul’s life had been a tragedy before, then this was certainly something far better. A new chapter in a new book with crisp, unturned pages, each one ripe and ready to receive love in loads.

You fell pregnant just as the changing winds ushered summer in, and suddenly that storybook blossomed considerably, pages stained with all things good. He had pinched himself before just to ensure this wasn’t a delusion or a dream, and finding that it was neither proved that there was indeed tenderness in his world. It was destiny that you two would meet by pure chance, fall for the other’s quirks and charms, and agree to a whirlwind marriage, so swept up in the authenticity of redamancy.

Azul thought his life couldn’t get any sweeter. A perfect wife, a perfect job, a perfect house, a perfect paradise built for two. It was a future he’d only ever fantasized about, an illusion he imagined to be forever out of his reach. But he had attained it, miraculously grasped it with both hands, and from here it would only be days and days of wonder and whimsy.

Thirty-one weeks into a perfect, pretty pregnancy, you fell again. Down the stairs, crumpled in a heap of limbs and broken promises. He stood at the top of the stairs, his chest heaving with the remnants of some animalistic emotion. You shattered like porcelain, a marionette cut free from her strings. The baby fell with you.

Then came the darkness: creeping, encroaching, all-consuming.

Then came the lies.

Then came the obsession with omniscience.

And all throughout it, you’d continue to imprison yourself in his eyes.

the second vow - to love and to cherish.

“You shouldn’t work so much.”

By the fourth year, he had told you that.

You looked up from your plate, which you’d spent most of dinner pushing the food around rather than actually eating. Meals carried out in this fashion, a cyclical routine you dreaded. Ever since he’d purchased a penthouse suite and moved you to the city, abandoning the life you had built in the tiny, two-story house with its friendly neighborhood of faces, your world became the sky: sad and cloudy. Always rainy. It was empty up there, and the luxuries he provided did nothing to fill the holes in your shattering heart.

You couldn’t paint any walls here, for they had already been colored in boring monochromes.

“But I like the coffee shop. Everyone’s really nice to me, and the hours are reasonable. I’m paid well, too.”

“It’s minimum wage, (Name).”

“Still…”

“I make enough to support the both of us.”

And it was true. He’d just opened the first branch of the Mostro franchise, an elegant, high-end eatery stuck right in the heart of the city. Money has never been an issue, not when he was so determined to see each of his dreams through to the very end. You were dragged along through the wild currents of those ambitions. Simple luxuries were no longer sleeping in on weekends or watching the sun rise and set in the garden. Now it was extreme excess and opulence, devouring you with designer brands.

“I’d rather not be home all day. It’s lonely.”

“Jade or Floyd can provide company should you need it.”

You stared at him, your mouth agape. “I don’t need babysitters. I’m an adult, Azul.”

“They wouldn’t babysit—” He sighed, shook his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re welcome to accompany me to the office instead.”

“But I like my job. I like talking to customers and taking orders and making drinks. If I quit, I wouldn’t have anything else.”

“That’s not true. You’d have me.”

“The regulars would miss me. So would my coworkers.”

“Darling… Angelfish, I don’t quite care for them and I don’t think they care for you either. At the end of the day, all of you are working a dead-end job, putting up with nonsense from rude, impatient customers who never bother to tip despite having full pockets. You’re not working.” Azul smiled, his blueberry eyes ripe with a strange sort of light. “You’re surviving, and that’s not a quality of life you should shackle yourself to.”

You pushed food around on your plate, unconvinced. “I just don’t feel right about lazing around and doing nothing. It’s not very fair if you’re the one doing everything while I just sit back and reap the benefits.”

“Why not? I hardly mind. Besides, I enjoy spoiling you. You deserve this and so much more.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “If I could, I’d package the world in a little box and give it to you, my dear.”

“We had that once and you broke it.”

His body stiffened, eyes flicking to your mouth. He couldn’t meet your eyes. He’s never been able to—not since that day. Neither of you can figure out whether it was intentional or an accident, or maybe it was something more: an intentional accident.

“P-Pardon?”

“I had the world and you broke it.” You set your fork and knife on your plate, perfectly vertical in accordance with proper etiquette. “Back at the old house.”

“Darling, you know we couldn’t stay… We were due for a change of scenery.”

Furiously, you opened your mouth, tears springing forth, but no words came. Instead, you clamped your jaw and stood from your chair, turning away from the table in a hurry.

“(Name), sweetheart, please wait!” He stood as well, nearly stumbling over himself as he moved to intercept you. “My love, you know I never meant for that to happen. If I could, I’d go back and I’d fix everything so that we’d never have to experience such sorrow again.”

He reached for your hands, but you slapped them away and took a grand step back. “You knew we were at the top of the stairs. You knew, Azul. You knew it was wrong because you moved me away so no one could question it!”

His face contorted with offense, nose scrunching as if he had just smelled something foul. “I did not.”

“You did! You pushed me down those stairs and you watched me. Watched me cry and groan because it hurt and the baby was hurt. You watched and you waited because you knew.”

“I did not!” he said, louder this time, his face blue with rising frustration. “I was in shock, (Name). You can’t possibly expect me to jump into action when I was frozen stiff and horrified. And it was an accident. We’ve been over this before. I’ve apologized numerous times.”

“Sorry, but words aren’t gonna fix anything. See? I’ve said it and nothing’s changed. It’s not words that fix broken things, Azul. It’s action.”

You stomped out of the room in a huff, blinded with tears and rage. You weren’t sure if you were more frustrated with the circumstances or Azul himself, but it might have been the latter when he pursued, insistent like the worst kind of thorn. One that’s wedged itself so deep you couldn’t possibly pluck it free with your fingertips.

You’re not sure tweezers would work either, for the hold he has on you was and still is a nasty vise.

“I… (Name), love, darling, I’ll do better. I’m trying.”

Though he made these claims, he expressed them rather pathetically—his arms outstretched, palms up, as if to show you he was no longer a threat to your mental and physical well-being. His face was in poor shape; he was blue all over, flushed from the rush of emotions, his eyes much too small. He looked almost deranged in a desperate, animalistic way. As if someone was cutting him into meticulous slivers with a precision so painful it would leave him to bleed out for hours.

You inhaled a deep, shaky breath, freezing the red-hot anger for a moment. I have to be the bigger, better person. Fighting isn’t going to accomplish anything.

“Look, if you want to make a conscious effort to be better I’m all here for it. But you have to actually try, Azul.”

“I am—I… I will!”

“I’m serious.”

“As am I.”

“Then please let me do things for myself. Marriage is about fairness. It’s you and me. We have to work together. And if that’s you supporting us with your business and me working part-time for extra cash, then let it be that way. That’s togetherness, not forcing the twins to babysit me like I’m senile or convincing me to quit a job I enjoy doing. Money shouldn’t matter if we’re both making it and we both trust each other to be responsible about it. So, while I appreciate surprise purchases, I’d much rather we do things together like before. That’s more meaningful and priceless to me than materialistic ploys meant to win me over.”

He swallowed thickly. Blue bled into the rest of his scleras. You watched him gradually inflate with relief. “I… I understand. I’m sorry. Truly, I am…”

“Stop telling me that. Show me. Please. And mean it.” You held your hands out. Hesitating, he fidgeted on his feet before gingerly placing his palms in yours. They were ice-cold. “Every relationship has its faults. Ours is no different. I’m forgiving you for the past, but I’m not going to forget and I’m not giving you a free pass either. I want to trust you, Zul, and I want you to trust me.”

“I do…” he began, only to curb himself. “I… Well, you know I worry. I know you have good friends, but when you’re out so late… O-Or when you don’t text me back… I’m always worrying.”

“Don’t.” You smiled and squeezed his hands. “I can take care of myself.”

His face darkened at that, a slew of stormy emotions brewing behind blue eyes. “Still.”

“I don’t worry about you when you’re at work or flying out for business trips. I trust that you’ll be okay because you know what you’re doing.”

“That’s different… That’s—”

“I’m happy that you care so much, but I promise I’m always safe when I’m out. You know this.”

“Yes. But… Well…” He sighed and shook his head. “At the very least, please let one of the twins drive you to and from your destinations.”

You fixed your lips into a moue. “Azul.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning softly. “Yes, I know how that sounds. I know.”

“I’m not asking you to change overnight. No one can. It takes time. Everything does. I understand that you worry, but I’ve proven to you more than once that I’m plenty capable on my own.”

“All right.” His eyes flicked open at that, and without warning he tugged you into his chest. The embrace was constrictive with an alarming tightness that seemed to mean: I can’t lose you, so I’ll never let go. He buried his face in your hair, clinging to you out of sheer need. “All right. From now on, let’s be together.”

You nodded, slow to reciprocate. “No more gloomy dinners?”

He shook with awkward laughter. “No more gloomy dinners.”

You thought you had it under control. You thought you could reel him in and sculpt him from the shards—take all of the hateful, broken parts he harbored and glue them whole. You thought it’d be safer to organize his medication with encouraging notes each morning in hopes that he wouldn’t neglect it. You thought you’d ease into discussions with a gentle approach, if only to avoid stoking the flames of something monstrous. If only to ensure neither of you would scream at each other until your voices were spent.

You thought you were making progress when he showed you all of the secret spaces in the penthouse, admitting to squirreling things away out of weakness, out of greed, out of some tangle of complicated feelings. The majority of his stash was comfort foods, each one more unhealthy than the last, accompanied with a tiny notebook he’d used to scribble calorie counts. The pages were brittle and stained when you flipped through them; he had been crying each time he documented the amounts. Pieces were beginning to fit themselves together. On days when he surpassed his recommended calorie intake, he hardly indulged in dinner, preferring to pick at his plate. Instead, he would feast on empty conversations with you and those would be enough to sustain him.

Throughout all of this, Azul kept his gaze firmly glued to the floor and tore at the skin near his nails. The tips of his ears were flushed blue with humiliation.

“I hate eating,” he muttered, tapping his foot in quick, anxious rhythms. “I hate it so much.”

“Azul,” you said, soft like linen, “do you really mean that?”

His eyes found yours, glossy and defeated. “I… I…” He shook his head, the truth spilling free like paint dripping from a slain canvas. His arms, trembling and twitching, rose to his face. “No, I don’t,” he wailed into his hands, the sound echoing in the hall. “I really, really don’t.”

You shut the diary. It’s because you love food so much that you hate it, you thought, pitying him and the self-deprecating notes he’d scribbled alongside columns of calculations. Because when you eat, you don’t want to stop. Because if you aren’t thinking about numbers, you enjoy it. It makes you happy. And you restrict yourself and this happiness because it hurts to have any more than the bare minimum. Because the bare minimum also hurts, but it feels better when you have less in your stomach so you can eat the rest in secret.

“Let’s start small,” you offered, placing your hand on his arm. He lowered it to reveal a snotty, teary face, blueberry eyes darting to and fro. “Let’s plan our meals together. If we know what we’re eating in advance, we can avoid falling into bad habits. And meal plans are a good way to budget.”

Wiping his nose with the back of his hand, he sniffled. “I’m…not opposed to the idea.”

You had it under control.

But then the knives would go missing, later turning up when it was most convenient. When he needed a clever way to get you to stay.

You had it under control.

But then you would forsake plans with friends and family in order to help him through another spiral.

You had it under control.

But then it felt like he was breaking himself into pieces nearly every day, at every hour, over the smallest of inconveniences. Working a minute too late. Eating dinner before he could get home to join you at the table. Going out on your own without supervision from Jade or Floyd.

You had it under control.

But then his shadow was stretching too far and too wide, swallowing you in a portrait of possession.

You had it under control.

But then that was at the cost of your sanity.

the third vow - till death do us part.

“Hypothetically speaking, if I were to die tomorrow, would you grieve me forever? Or would you simply get over it and remarry?”

By the sixth year, just a few hours ago, he’d asked you that.

You looked up at him from the notebook in your lap, where you’d been aimlessly scribbling in circles. The lines overlapped, ink blotting together in manic patterns. Originally, you were going to write a grocery list. But now all you had were jagged lines and not-quite-right geometry.

As if you had rehearsed it prior, you answered smoothly, albeit with an edge to your voice, “But you’re not going to die tomorrow.”

“I could.”

“You won’t.”

Azul slumped back against the sofa and pulled his knees into his chest. “Maybe not. I have a clean bill of health.”

Not mentally, you thought, morbidly wry.

“You shouldn’t sound so disappointed. It’s good to be healthy.”

“You won’t care for me as much if I’m healthy,” he mumbled, gazing out the window at the sparkling cityscape with those dull, dreary blueberry eyes of his. “I wish I was sick. Then I could take a week off from work and just…exist.”

You frowned at him from where you sat opposite in a comfortable chair. It was the only piece of furniture he took from the old house. For sentimental reasons, of course. Sometimes you thought it still smelled like home, even if the scent of home was so warped and far-off now.

“You’re the boss, aren’t you? If you need to rest, take some time off and recuperate.”

“I want to, but my schedule can’t afford any interruptions. Not now.”

“Don’t overwork yourself.”

“I’m not.”

The conversation flatlined, only to soon breathe again when he suddenly added, “We should go on a trip.”

“A trip?”

“New scenery would do us a world of good.”

“Oh. Um, okay. Where should we go?”

“Anywhere.”

“Anywhere is too broad. Plus, we’d have to plan it in advance. Make sure everything’s covered. Expenses and whatnot.”

Azul’s expression soured. “Ah. Right.” He hummed his contemplation, drumming his fingers along the sofa’s armrest. “We could go somewhere nearby. Hospital food sounds good.”

You speared him with a sharp, stern look. “Don’t joke about that.”

“I’m not!”

You set your notebook and pen on the coffee table, aware of his powdery hues tracking your every move. “Azul?”

“Mhm?”

Your heart wouldn’t stop pounding. Relentless, the sound skyrocketed into your eardrums and joined in chorus with rushing blood. But you had to tell him. You had to broach this subject. It had been gathering dust and cobwebs, aged by many tiresome years. You couldn’t do this anymore.

“Azul, I think—” You swallowed hard, your fingers curling up into tight fists. “I think we… I think we should get a divorce.”

His head snapped up from where it had previously rested on his knees. He stared at you for a long, silent time.

And then, sucking in a breath, he asked in a fragile, breathless whisper: “What?”

“Um… I… We…” Your chest heaved with your exhalation. “We’re not happy.”

“We are.” He blinked at you, owlish and unwilling to look past the gilded lie. Unable to stop playing pretend. “We’ve always been.”

“No… No, we haven’t. Azul, it’s—really, it’s so exhausting. I’m so tired.”

“Then let’s sleep.” He lowered his feet onto the floor, intending to stand.

“Mentally, Azul. I… Fuck, I’m so tired. I really can’t do this anymore.”

Color seeped from his eyes. His pupils widened and shrunk, and then a wobbly smile overtook his gaunt features. “Angelfish, that’s not a very pleasant joke…”

You could only offer him your most forlorn look, finally defeated after six years. Six years of pushing a stone up a hill, never to advance and never to succeed. This conversation was well overdue.

Azul rose to his feet, his apparent horror dawning. It molded his features into something wrong and fearsome. Something panicked and cornered. “Darling, you’re not serious about this, right? You… We’re just going through a bit of a rough patch, but we’re okay. I’m okay. Yesterday’s session went so well. I’m getting better. I… I’ve done all of this for you—for us! So we don’t need to do anything rash. We don’t need to get divorced. We just need to—”

“You’re not okay. Azul, I’ve tried so hard. I really have. I’ve done everything, but I just can’t keep exhausting the same tricks.” You heaved a dry, tearless sob. “I can’t keep doing this anymore. I want to go back to work, but I can’t because I never know if you’ll be okay on your own. I want to trust you, but I can’t. We’re not communicating. We’re just—we’re playing the same delusional game and it’s getting us nowhere. You and I both know we’re not working. We stopped working the day you pushed me down those stairs.”

He froze, his lip quivering. “Darling, please… Please don’t say that. You don’t mean that.”

“I want you to get better—genuinely get better—but I’m not the help you need.”

“That’s not true. You’re all I need—all I’ve ever needed. With you here, I’m whole. I’m happy. What was it you told me? That marriage is togetherness? That it’s you and me? So as long as we’re together—no matter what may come between us—we’ll always be happy. We have our disagreements, yes, but every relationship is like that. It’s normal, my dear. So please don’t say those things. I am better, and I’ll continue to be better until my final breath.”

“Azul, you’re not listening.” Now you were standing from your chair. “Togetherness is not this. This—” you gestured to yourself, to the way your clothes hung from your body, a size too large, before pointing at him— “isn’t healthy. We’re not healthy. Every day I’m with you is hell. I need a break as much as you do. We can’t keep doing this. Let’s save ourselves the insanity and misery, and let’s be sensible adults. A divorce is the only—”

“You’re wrong.”

The rest of your tirade stuck in your throat. “W-What?”

“Divorce is an expensive, lengthy process.” Azul stepped around the coffee table, his stare blank and haunted. Twin pools of the darkest ocean bored into your skull. “I can easily afford it, but it’s a price I’m not willing to pay.”

Despite what little confidence you had before, it’s all but diminished now. You shrunk away from him. “A-Azul, calm down. You… You’re scaring me.”

“Well, that’s nothing new now, is it?”

“Azul—”

“You want sensible adults? Very well. Let’s have an actual discussion instead of picking each other apart like this.” He peered down at you from where he stood, his head angled in such a way that his acknowledgement of you appeared contemptuous. “So sit back down in your chair and talk like a sensible, mature adult.”

Opening your mouth, you intended to respond. But the words wouldn’t come. They were lodged in your throat, coagulating with raw, rich fear.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

I can’t say anything, you thought, your body petrifying with every passing second. I’m scared…

“If you put just a little more thought into your brainless idea, you’ll find it’s quite…lacking. Divorce ruins our togetherness, splits us apart and condemns us to two different worlds. And if I’m no longer able to cross into your world—if you forbid it and leave my world—I’ll truly die. I refuse to let that happen. So, no, darling, we won’t be getting a divorce. I won’t agree to it.”

Perhaps it was the hopelessness in your heart that forced fresh tears from your ducts, or maybe it was the final straw in your weakening defenses, but the words came bursting out in a hurry.

“I don’t care anymore! I want you to die!”

You slapped your hands over your mouth. Azul stared at you, stupefied.

“I… I want to be rid of you,” you continued, your words muffled and distraught. “I’ve always thought… Always hoped you might just disappear one day and I’d finally know peace… Please, Azul. Let’s end this. I don’t want to be stuck in this cycle. I don’t even love you anymore. I’m just…done.”

“You don’t mean that…” He made a strange sound, a hybrid between a gasp and a laugh. “Y-You’re just saying that. You still love me. You don’t actually want me gone. You love me… R-Right? Please say you do. Please, angelfish. My love… Please…”

“You’re not well, Azul. I think… I think this is for the best.” You turned away from him. “I’m going to stay in a hotel tonight. Please take some time to calm down and then we’ll talk more in the morning. I… I’m sorry. I really do want you to get help, but I can’t be around you any longer than I already have. It’s draining. You’re draining.”

You took one step further and something inside him splintered.

His power was cut, a line between consciousness and reality severed.

You did not love him. You wanted a divorce. You did not love him. You wanted a divorce.

Did not love him. Divorce. Did not love him. Divorce.

Did not love did not love did not love did not love not love not love not love.

Divorce divorce divorce divorce divorce.

Not love not love not love.

All alone.

Alone like before.

Back to the disgusting creature he once was.

You were walking away, your back turned on him.

He was going to lose his world. It was slipping through his fingers, fleeting and frail.

He couldn’t lose his world, for it’s all he’s ever had.

Azul lunged, seizing your wrist and dragging you down.

Your scream was cut short when his hands clung to your throat.

From then on, everything was a blur.

Two blueberry eyes swallowed you whole, entrapping you in cerulean paradise.

the epilogue - there will never be two without you.

“They used to call me all manner of cruel things when I was a child,” Azul admits to the desolate quiet of his penthouse suite. “I was ridiculed every day. I couldn’t even recognize myself in the mirror. Isn’t that just terrible?” He leans against the sofa and exhales slowly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “But then you told me I was pretty and suddenly the mirrors blinked back at me. Suddenly the world looked just a little wider and…brighter. So bright! The sea swallows so much color, my dear, and so you’ll never know just how vibrant the surface is to us merfolk.”

He deflates with a wet, wheezing laugh. “No one’s ever told me I was pretty. No one’s ever loved me. Not in the way that you did.” Sighing, he runs a hand down his face. Tears track his cheeks; his blueberry eyes exist in a field of splotchy red. “You were such an angel. To love a filthy, hideous thing like me… Only an angel could do that. Only an angel could look beyond every flaw of mine and love so gently.”

Azul lowers his arm and peers at the knife clutched tightly in his other hand. “I never deserved you. I’ve treated you so horribly. I—” He chokes on a rising sob and shakily lifts the blade to his wrist. It presses against his skin for a moment before he’s yanking it away.

“Fuck,” he spits, his voice trembling. “I… I can’t do it.”

You’re a coward, his inner critic berates. A cowardly, clumsy fool of an octopus.

Gritting his teeth, he steels himself and tries again. The blade digs deeper into his flesh, enough to draw the tiniest pinprick of blood. Pain flashes through his nerves, prey instincts firing off commands. He attempts to push past the curtain veiling his thoughts—Stop before you hurt yourself! Stop before you kill yourself!—but then he spies the blue rising to the surface, pooling under the blade, and he retreats immediately. Horrified, he discards the knife at once. It soars across the room in an imperfect arc before settling on the floor with a clatter, just inches from your body.

“Fuck,” he whispers, closing his hand around his wrist to halt the bleeding. “Fuck. Fuck!”

I really can’t bring myself to do it…

He throws his head back against the cushions, eyeing the ceiling. “I’ve done such an unforgivable thing to you and yet I… I can’t do it to myself. I just can’t.” He shuts his eyes, inhales deeply, and opens them again. “I so selfishly took your life, but I’m clinging to mine like a spineless loser.”

Azul lowers himself onto the floor, curling into a fetal position. He grips his wrist in a tighter hold. His glasses are somewhere in the room, likely cracked or worse. He can’t be bothered to seek them out.

“Did you ever believe in soulmates? Ah, what am I saying? Stupid… But I truly think we were soulmates. Perhaps not in this lifetime. But somewhere on a distant horizon…” He smiles dreamily, pressing his cheek against the cool floorboards. “I wonder if we’ll ever meet again. It’s a matter of luck and fate. Sea Witch below, I hate those odds.” Another noisy sob bubbles up in his throat. He shakes with the force of it, his throat raw and ruined. Another onslaught of tears pours from his eyes. “I was r-really happy that day you approached me. I was so happy… More… More happy than you’ll ever know. Thank you for looking at me and seeing me and opening your heart to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t cherish you more than this.”

He forces himself up onto his arms and then, as if just learning how to walk again, rises to his feet on wobbling legs to cross the slim distance to arrive at your body. Like a sinner on trial, he drops to his knees and gathers you in his arms as if you are his Madonna della Pietà.

“Without you, there is no world,” he murmurs, holding you close for a moment longer before lowering you to the floor. His tears dot your cheeks like somber rainfall. He reaches for the knife next, his mind made up. “Thank you for loving me. Sincerely. Truly. You’re the only one I’ll ever love. For that, I’m grateful. Because of you, I was able to know the taste of romance. And…” He hiccups through his bawling. “And it’s so very sweet.”

Blue blood spatters the floor, spilling from a messy gash in his abdomen. The knife is sharper than he thought.

Azul flops onto his stomach beside you, reaching out to run his fingers over your cheek. He inhales a weary breath and agony fills his lungs.

The world is dyed a brilliant, burdensome blue.

Azul Ashengrotto wakes in captivity. Bandaged, dressed in a plain gown, and cuffed to the bed, he is alive.

He moves his wrist, each of his senses filtering in at once. His other arm is turned over and pierced with an IV. Groggily, he lifts his gaze to the machines humming around him. Blue blood sits heavy in a bag, and he watches the liquid travel down, down, down through the tube. He blinks. His eyes are crusty. Has he been crying?

Assessing the handcuff once more, he turns up empty.

Why is he here?

Why does it hurt to move?

Why are there so many bandages around his stomach?

Most of all, where is his world?

What is this place?

It’s a hospital, yes, but why is he here? He has a clean bill of health.

Where is his world?

It’s when he starts actively struggling against the restraint, his breath coming in terrified huffs, that the nurses file in to tend to him. They check his vitals, run some harmless tests, ask him a few questions—it’s a lot all at once. He goes through the process as if stuck in sludge.

“My… My wife,” he croaks, unable to think of anything else. His heart tightens in his chest. “Where is she? What happened? Is she okay?”

Nervously, the nurses skirt around his questions until, eventually, he loses patience and tries to tear himself free from the bed that confines him.

“Where is she?!” he’s screaming, thrashing on the bed like he’s Frankenstein’s monster—a haunted reanimation shocked with electricity. “Answer me! Where is she?! She has to be here. Please… Please tell me she’s safe. I need to see her—need her here right now.”

They hurry out just as he curses at them.

“You can’t keep her away from me! She’s my wife—mine! If you lay a hand on her—”

A new face appears in the doorway; it’s a man dressed in striking attire. A police officer. Azul stares at him, his nostrils flaring wildly. For a short beat, they simply watch one another. Eventually, the officer nods towards a chair.

“May I?”

“What do you want?” He narrows his blueberry eyes, immediately suspicious.

“I’m here to have a chat with you. It’s about your wife. Is that okay?”

At the mention of you, Azul’s thoughts stall out. “Do you know where she is? Is… Is everything okay?”

The officer lowers into the chair and casually crosses one leg over the other. Casual in the friendly sense, Azul realizes. He really doesn’t like this man. Any longer here and he’ll start trying to build rapport.

“We’ll get there in a second. First, I’d like to introduce myself.” He goes through the motions; Azul is only half-listening, replying when it’s beneficial.

(Name). She’s safe, right? She must be. She has to be. Everything’s okay.

(Name). (Name). (Name). (Name). (Name). (Name). (Name).

Where are you? Do you realize how worried I am? Oh, this must be my fault. I did something foolish again.

I must have tried to hurt myself. Angelfish, please wait for me. I’ll be okay. You’re safe and so am I.

Safe. Yes. Right. Safe. Safe. Safe.

Safe… Right?

Right.

Right?

“Had your friends not called in, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

That brings Azul back to the world. He blinks at the officer, one eye at a time. “What?”

“You were on the verge of bleeding out.”

“Friends?” He’s slow on the uptake. “Jade and Floyd?”

The officer nods. Silence fills the space. Azul wonders when he’s going to open his mouth again.

“What about them?” he asks instead.

The officer frowns. “Do you not recall anything?”

Azul thinks long and hard about this. “I… I was having a discussion with my wife. It was something about a trip. No, not that. Um… Something…important. Something else, perhaps?” He shakes his head, unable to turn up anything useful. “I haven’t a clue. Why? Is something the matter? Where’s my wife?”

Silence is his only reply.

Somehow that tells him everything and nothing all at once.

Somehow he suspects it. His body knows. His fingers twitch with phantom spasms, curling inwards to cut off airflow. The puzzle is scrambled and the image is fuzzy, but he knows.

He knows because he’s already crying, and there’s only ever been one thing that can bring out the inner crybaby he despises so.

It’s always been you.

Azul Ashengrotto is the sole speck of blue in this white hospital room.

And he certainly feels it.

He’s right back where he began: alone and clumsy, an octopus out of water, viewing the cramped, compact, colorless world with his bewitching blueberry hues.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul #tw: death #tw: murder #tw: self harm #tw: suicide

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 17 days

Text

{♢Dulcer♢}

《Warnings: Genderbend Akane, possible yandere. The story is for fun, more warnings to add later.》

《Def: Pleasant to the ear; melodious.》

-♢-

Akane eyes the crosswalk, phone held to his side his bag of snacks smack against his thigh.

'I'm tired...'

Glancing away from the road as he walks. Expression indefferent as the rain poured down his matted hair as trudges along the bridge. Pausing as he turn to the handle bars, gripping them tightly as his knuckles become a lighter color.

"Augh..." A small groan catches his attention, pausing at the odd noise until he sees a hunched figure standing near one of the lightposts.

Blinking in curiousity, he takes a small step forward. Reaching out a hand to their shoulder..

"Um..-"

But retreats when hearing his phone ring with a notifcation.

The figure whips their head to his direction immediately!

"A-ah..! E-..ehm.." Tripping over his words, he places his hands up. "S-sorry! I-I-"

The person grabs hold of his shirt sleeve. Their once lowered head rised up to him.

Out of breath, sweat dripping on the (s/c) skin as the lights gleamed in their eyes.

"D-..DO YOU KNOW HOW TO GET TO THE TRAIN STATION!" They heave out, chest rising and falling as the blue haired male watchted their hand fall to their knees. Inhaling the city air like it was their last breath. "Sweat... Sweat-y...." The mumble, fanning themselves without a care as they whine.

...

"...I- I can show you!"

Akane eyes widen at his own words.

The strangers eyes gaze at him, as if in awe.

Greatful.

No... Something else.. What was it-?

The expression caught him off gaurd. His heart hammering in his chest as he starts to lead the way. While you waddle behind him as close as you could.

"Auh...Uff...!"

Spitting up, you continue forward while Akane took peeks at your expressions. In quiet awe at the resilance in your eyes as he watches you speed up..!

Yet trip over air as you fall flat faced on the ground. More soaked than he was as you spit out rain water.

".. A-Are you okay!?" He gapes in horror, kneeling down, trying to help you up.

You slowly sit up, small pebbles sticking to your slicked skin as you wobbly stand. Breathing out through your nose as Akane slowly gets up.

"I.. I can't be late!"

You spat out determinedly, shakily wiping away the pebbles as you continue. Your pace becoming quicker as you run with all your might. Not fast in the slightest..

Feeling his face warm up with color, the actor soon follows in pursuit.

He.. He wanted to catch up with you...

Reminding himself he was supposed to be leading YOU!

"Y-your going the wrong way!" He calls out.

-♢-

"Ne~? Akane? You seem distracted." Mem-Cho says slyly as she glances at his phone.

"Ah-!"

"Oh-Ho~?" The influncer says slyly, grinning teasingly. "So... You two seem close.." She places both her hands together as male face flushes in color.

Aqau sneaks a glance at the photo, then raised a brow.

"...That's your type.. Huh.." He spook coolly as Kurokawa slams his phone down quickly on the desk. Aqua ignores the reaction as he watches the actor defend himself. Knowing it would only catch more intrest

"T-They're a friend! Honest-!" He cries, sighing in dismay as he watches Mem-Cho go discuss her findings to the other cast members.

Aqua observed his friend in intrest, seeing him fiddle with his fingers as he doesn't dare pick up the phone once again.

The blonde haired boy recalled when the actor had conversed about.. "(Y/N)": is what Akane had called them.

Often bringing them up to Aqua when out together. Going on and on, as if a song on loop.

"Hey, breaks over."

Akane stops his fidgeting, taking a deep breath, his eyes shinning as he grins toothily. Getting out of his chair with a coy pout.

"Aw... Too bad.~☆"

-♢-

"Hey... (Y/N)? What's your type?"

Sitting on your couch with Kurokawa, you turn away from the dating show. Gazing at him dumbly, pondering the question.

"Huh..."

You recalled back in the manga Akane was a "Genius Method Actor", taking a characters role and becoming the perfect copycat. You didn't doubt his abilites at all! You were just... Unsure.

"I never thought about it." You smile, shrugging. "But I guess I could think about it.." You state, nodding.

"A-Actually.." He pipes up, sitting closer. "I'd rather you tell me when your ready! Ha..." He smiles, waving it off as he goes back to watching the screen.

'Because... I'll find out first.. Then maybe.. It'd be easier for me to tell you the truth of how I feel about you.'

[Ta-Da! Ive decided since its my birthday week! Imma post fics ivw been wanting to write! Also reblogs and comments are super loved!!]

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butterflydm · 6 months

Text

pulling out bits from recent cast interviews re: s3

Several sets of interviews came out today! wotseries.com has six (!); looper.com, decider.com, & collider.com all have one each.

(speculation and spoilers for s3 and for the books through TFoH)

In Ceara's wotseries interview, we get this little hint:

WotSeries: How far along in the books are you? Ceara: I wouldn’t want to say because I read up to where we are in the scripts, and I think that would give away too much.

This implies to me that s3 is going to go a bit beyond The Shadow Rising, at least in places, because it's no secret that TSR is going to be the spine of the season.

We get more from Daniel:

WotSeries: How about any movement towards developing the relationship between Lan and Nynaeve in season three? Daniel: Season three, yes, it’s more of a build season for those two. There are some really great scenes, some stuff we’re really happy with. We do get to see some intimate stuff, not sexual stuff necessarily. So, some moments with them. But with Lan and Nynaeve, it’s this working toward what the book readers know it’s going to be. It all depends on how much time we get, how many seasons we get to do this thing. That’s a relationship that I’m really excited about and I love working with Zoë.

So, again, yeah, that really does make me feel like we're going to get one or two episodes at the start of the season where the whole crew is together and bonding. In the books, Lan and Nynaeve basically don't see each other at all between splitting up at the beginning of TSR and then eight million years later in ACoS. I do think that we might also get a reunion of at least some of the characters at the end of s3, though.

In Donal's interview:

Dónal: Well, I have big faith in Mat. I’m pretty confident in him. Regarding chatting to women.

This makes me wonder if we're getting Melindhra introduced next season. Because, uh, Mat has not really had a lot of success so far. I mean, apart from the very first episode.

Dónal: Well, there’s loads that you can look forward to in season 3. I mean, we’ve got much of it. I feel like I’ve filmed a good stretch of it, and I’ve really enjoyed the material and the new arc. This arc that I go on this season. And I think you can just expect things to be… there’s more moments with the characters to kind of learn about them in more quiet, subtle ways, more revealing ways. And I think it’s probably common knowledge that Mat does change his clothes between 2 and 3. You know, like really, we would have to ask questions and get concerned if he didn’t. I feel like I could tell you that. And I’m excited, man. I’m very happy to be wearing what I’m wearing.

Not that this should be shocking to anyone, lol, but Mat will have an arc next season! Dónal does a good job of not saying anything here though, lol. We WOULD have to be concerned if he hadn't changed clothes, yes, lol. I am excited to hear that Mat is getting some good character moments next season.

Ceara also shared this with us in the collider interview:

My script is always annotated with little quotes from the books, which I really love.

That's amazing! I think this is the first time anyone has mentioned it? That's a really neat way of giving the actors context for their lines.

We all knew that Elayne & Nynaeve would get a big story together in s3 but we get that confirmed:

We see Elayne bump into certain characters this season, but obviously, this cast is huge and growing all the time. I'm sure you cannot go into too many spoilers about Season 3, but for Ceara the actor, which characters are you really excited for Elayne to get to have more screen time with? COVENEY: I'm really excited to continue the journey that Zoë and I have started with Nynaeve and Elayne. I'm really excited to see where that goes because they've had such a rough start and were thrown into such extreme situations. So yeah, if the fans lovingly call it the Detective Agency, I'm excited to see if the business is thriving.

Natasha had two interviews that I've seen, one with decider and one with looper.

There's nothing for s3 in the decider interview that I could see, but from looper we get:

But it's not just about the evil deeds; it's also about the politics. When you come into Season 3 — without giving anything away — it opens up the mind to this more vulnerable side of Lanfear and where she's coming from. The relationship with Rand — there are scenes in Series 2 [where] you get little glimpses and nuggets of that, that there is a vulnerability there, or more reasons rather than just being dark and evil. Circling back to a previous comment, you said Lanfear knows what she wants. As Natasha, what do you think Lanfear wants? The goal in the whole realm of the world is, if I put it like … Beyoncé and Jay-Z. She wants to be the king and queen. What she wants is the Dragon and her to be together, have their kingdom, make some good choices. That's her main goal, and to shoo away anybody else that gets in the way of that.

So it sounds like we might be getting Lanfear's Big Offer (we could challenge the Creator) to Rand in s3, which would make sense.

#wot s3 speculation #wot speculation #wot #wheel of time #wot on prime #wot s2 spoilers #wot 2x8 spoilers #wot book spoilers #the fires of heaven

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svblimes · 12 days

Note

not sure if youd do this but hugs, 17 with ken/colt?

hugging from behind - ken / colt

» summary: colt gets a very mild bruise from performing a bike stunt, and ken expresses his worry for colt's safety.

» cw: bike jumps, mention of mild pain

» word count: 596

-this can be looked at as platonic or romantic! . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ *

"We're gonna go one more time!" The director exclaimed.

A crew member was reapplying a harness to Colt, who was about to shoot another bike jump for a film. Something went wrong with the first take, to the stuntman's dismay, but he was determined to get it right this time.

As the cameras began rolling, Colt leaped off a ramp over a ravine, practical detonations igniting all around him. The smoke made it difficult for him to see his path, his eyes squinting beneath the helmet shades. Landing on the other side, Colt tumbled off the motorcycle and rolled against a safety mat provided by the stunt crew.

The director called for a cut on the scene and Colt rose from the ground, dusting himself off. He groaned from a slight pain in his left shoulder. The result of performing the stunt multiple times caught up to him.

After the harness was withdrawn, Colt was met with a sudden force against his back, nearly toppling him over into the dirt. A pair of arms belted around his torso, clutching tightly against him. He let out a surprised grunt and chuckled when he realized who held him.

"Ken? You're early, yeah?"

The slightly shorter man was sporting a white t-shirt under a denim jacket, jeans, and a lightning bolt headband, with a gold horseshoe chain hung around his neck. It wasn't the getup of a crew member or actor on set. Ken was still holding onto Colt rather tightly, his forehead nuzzling against the stuntman's upper back.

"Yeah... I couldn't help it. I wanted to see one of your cool stunts again." He softly admitted.

Colt had planned to be picked up by Ken after work for a nice dinner on the lakeside, a couple miles away from the film set. It was a little escape that he was anticipating after a long week of stunt work.

Even though Colt was finished for the day, the crew hadn't dismissed him yet. He glanced over his shoulder at the former doll, admiring his disheveled bleach-blonde hair. Ken's furrowed eyebrows and tightened jaw visibly indicated his stress.

"You ok?" Colt asked.

Ken nodded and offered the stuntman a kind smile, one of the brightest he'd ever seen, and gently withdrew himself from Colt's torso. They walked off to the side to get out of the way of the film crew.

"I'm fine, really," Ken said, fidgeting with a button on his jacket. "I just missed you a lot and seeing you leap off that bike had me worried. Like... what if you didn't make it?"

Colt sighed, smiling at him with compassion written in his gaze. He wrapped a strong arm around Ken's shoulder. "You say that almost every time. It'll take a lot more to keep me down, you know that." He chuckled softly.

"I know, I know. Gosh, you're just... so cool. And that jump was so gnarly! I don't know what I'd do with myself if anything happened to you, Colt..."

The lighthearted banter appeared to relieve Ken's concerns, evident from the color rising to his cheeks, his eyes sparkling and his smile widening. He strolled across the set with Colt on the way to his flame decal Corvette, a design that the stuntman got a kick out of.

As Ken faced his vehicle to unlock it, he yelped as Colt returned the denim-clad man's gesture of hugging him from behind. Colt's chin rested atop of his head as they shared a hearty laugh.

"You're cool as hell too, Ken." He added. "Don't ever forget that."

#ken x colt #prompt rq #i hope you like this! i had fun with it!#.myfic #.myart

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katriniac · 6 months

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Hi!! I hope the OC Questions are still up!

I wanted to know 4, 7, 16, 32 and E for Alyce!

Thank youuu

I did not notice I had any asks! I'm sorry for the wait, @itsmyara . Oh my gosh! Thanks for asking about Alyce. She's a warm, sunny, fun gal; I'm happy to talk about her at any time.

Here's a post I made about her bio:

4 - How easy is it to gain their trust?

She has a fairly open personality, so it's pretty easy to talk to her. However, she's not a door mat to be walked over, nor is she blindly innocent. She works in marketing and public relations, so she's used to people bullshitting her or trying to spin any conversation in their favor. Alyce herself is adept at navigating these conversations without growing jaded or annoyed. To her it's just ‘business’ and she knows it's not personal.

Building trust with her isn't that difficult; just be real and honest. Don't try to win her over with empty flattery, especially if it's about her looks (which she's very self-conscious about, and is immediately suspicious if someone compliments her appearance).

7 - What triggers nostalgia? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Having grown up on a sheep farm, she doesn't shy away from hard work. But now she has a desk job in the palace in the capitol of Rhodolite. So on the rare occasions when physical labor is needed, she enjoys the opportunity to use her muscles. Those moments are when good memories of the farm rise up.

The only unpleasant feelings of nostalgia are when she is given suggestions by nobility, ministers, or Prince Yves on how to make herself more ‘elegant’. That reminds her of her grandmother, who incessantly lectured Alyce about her weight, behavior, posture, appearance, and clothes.

16 - What makes their stomach turn?

Hearing nobility disregard the life of the commoners as if it was nothing. Seeing girls suffer under the stress of looking perfect at court by succumbing to an eating disorder.

As far as, like, creepy-crawlies or jump-scares? She's completely unafraid of things that would gross out most people. Dealing with births and deaths of livestock tend to keep you from being squeamish. She LOVES an adrenaline rush, so haunted houses and fast vehicles make her happy.

32 - What is their go-to story or joke in a conversation?

Alyce is a natural-born performer, so she has any number of jokes or anecdotes at the ready, depending on the company or situation. As a teenager she used to hang out at the theaters and socialize with traveling actors and musicians, and now as an adult she can be found at the rowdiest pubs. You can imagine the flavor of her humor, lol!

She's got a hilarious story about a circus performer trying to teach her how to juggle. And a sweet story about one of the farm-hands pretending to look for a lost sheep when he was actually out in the field practicing his marriage proposal speech. And she's got at least three ‘tasteful’ jokes about stuffy court ministers.

E - Would you get along with them? Would they get along with you?

Alyce has big ‘extrovert energy’, so I would have to take her in small doses. But I would absolutely love to hang out with her for a fun night at the club or karaoke. Or collaborate with her on a PR project. I would like to think she'd get along with me, but I'm the worst at gauging what people think of me 😅 She might think I'm boring.

A meme I made for Alyce 😆

Bonus Fun Fact:

This version of Alyce Gardner is based on my first ever Ikemen OC I created in 2017. It was for a role-play story with someone writing as Robert Branche from the Cybird game Midnight Cinderella. That story didn't go far, but I thoroughly enjoyed her backstory so much that I had to bring her out again eventually.

I ship her with Clavis because I think the two of them would have fun getting into shenanigans, and their romance would take a looooooong time to bloom because she'd never believe someone as gorgeous as him could be serious with his over-the-top declarations of love and flattery. So … yeah, she takes a while to be convinced.

The asks came from this post:

Please feel free to send me more asks from that list. I will try to be more vigilant in checking my account for asks.

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seawherethesunsets · 2 years

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i noticed you reblog a lot of jdrama edit. it makes me wanna check them out. i rarely watch any new jdrama. my jdrama knowledge somehow stuck until around 2008-2010. 😅😅😅 can u suggest any good jdrama and briefly introduce them to me? thank you. 🙂

Hiiii!!!

I have a long list of jdramas that I loooveeee from late 1990s to current hahaha so I wanna suggest a lot but I'll start with these few and if you want more reco let me know!! *brief intros are personal, please read from mdl for more info lol*

Recent Jdramas:

Double - a struggling stage play actor takes in a wet 'puppy' and mentored him into a rising star. they both live under one roof, dependant on each other/inseparable and their inner turmoil of envy and ambition.

Old fashion cupcake - a younger co-worker has the hots for his older supervisor. started off going on dessert dates and the rest is history

Mukou no hate - a heavy, dark drama about a woman charged for arson, backstory of her harsh and traumatising life. (it is a tragic drama 😭 but it's sooo good if you're up for a serious, dark one)

Ore no Kawaii wa Mousugu Shohikigen!? - what if someone comes up to you and say I am you in 30yrs. your cuteness has an expiry date? (literally the title in english) Should you start your anti-aging skin routine now?

Silent - ongoing drama! high school sweethearts who broke up during uni, ff to current times they reunite but found out he lost his hearing.

Jdramas that stays with me (maybe you've watched some?):

Saikou no rikon - slice of life of a crumbling marriage and the 'greatest' divorce with some comedic reliefs.

Hotaru no Hikari - a messy homebody who ends up living together with her boss (landlord's son). a lot of rolling on the tatami mats in training suits. romcom fluff

Aishiteiru to ittekure - (gotta rec this classic) romance between an actress and an artist who lost his hearing when he was a kid. she learnt sign language to communicate and soon went into a relationship + struggles in between.

Soredemo ikite yuku - another heavy emotional drama about grief of 2 families; the victims and the ones related to the murderer. This was a gem, a worthy of Best Drama.

Good Luck! - set in the airline industry, romance, dreams and passion!

#yulayuli #ask #jdrama recs #might not be the best but trust me they're worth to give it a try #hahahah

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mashithamel · 2 years

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In high school I had to read “Ragtime” by E.L. Doctorow (and then write a comparison paper with another American novel—that I got an ‘A’ for somehow managing to find something to compare and contrast between this contemporary-style historial fiction book and the gothic ghost story “Turn of the Screw” should tell you that back in high school I was really good at writing a lot of BS).

The book itself was pretty good—really interesting, a mix of real historical figures and some archetypes (literally called ‘Mother,’ ‘Little Boy,’ etc) about the turn of the century, and racism, unions, immigration, women’s sufferage, and peaceful versus violent protests.

It also has…some really questionable moments (I’m looking you, Younger Brother, with your “ticket tape parade” ejeaculation while watching anarchist Emma Goldman give disgraced socialite Evelyn Nesbitt a sensual massage—that’s an image I’m never getting out of my brain, and now you all can share it with me).

There is a “Ragtime” movie, with the only good thing being Mandy Patinkin playing Tata. The movie really leaned into the sensational, silly parts of the book (there is a scene where Evelyn is topless for no reason other than they wanted an ‘R’ rating, I’m guessing?). They left out so many of the more interesting plolines, like Mother becoming independent.

And then they made a musical, and this was perfection. They took all the good parts of the novel, cut out the stupid bits that really didn’t add anything, changed a few things to keep the story going, and told essentially told the same story with amazing music, only better. They kept the focus on the theme “change is hard and can be scary,” without looking for sensationalizing moments. I really think theaters all over the US should have been playing it in 2016 because it is just so timely, and really hits on so many contemporary topics.

So, what does this have to do with the reason for this Tumblr account, The Wheel of Time? Book fans, I think, are generally in agreement that while the books are awesome, they can be problematic at times (so much spanking, a lot of male-gazy romance plotlines, domestic violence and male rape treated largely with humor, among some of the big things).

The show has a chance to change some of this (and they have already, by addressing the excessive puritanical virginity of many of the main characters [I can’t buy that Min was a virigin!], not having Nynaeve hit everyone with a stick, no one has even mentioned the word ‘breast’ so far, and so on), and update some of the problematic bits to make the story better (I have high hopes for Perrin/Faile to be less dysfunctional). Queer representation is much more explicit, and actors of color are killing it in roles that were viewed by white readers as white.

There are things I miss—Lan training the boys in weapon fighting, the Perrin/Egwene rescue from the Whitecloaks, Mat going to Fal Dara, the name a few. Some of those missing things are important, and I’m hoping later seasons will do them justice. But I think the key thing is to realize it could have been just awful, like the “Ragtime” movie. Anyone ever see “When the Dark Comes Rising”? That was such a disappointing adaptation. Or the recent “A Wrinkle in Time”? Ugh. I love the Harry Potter movies, but there are so many changes from the books, in some places feeling like a really different story.

Instead, we have amazing costumes, detailed sets, great actors, and so many delightful Easter eggs for the book fans that are bringing this epic to life. The team seems to really love the source and to respect it at every opportunity. For every change I don’t love, there are so many other things I adore. I think the fans are the winners here. (Except when it comes to merchandizing—how is Amazon not all over this??)

TL;DR: Book great, show a little different but also great, and I’m dying for Season 2.

#wheel of time #wot on prime #killing time until season 2 #ragtime #ragtime the musical is amazing #the movie is trash #WoT fans are living the dream #my personal opinions

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sacredsanguine · 1 year

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WHAT WAS THAT. LITERALLY WHAT.

Ik i say this basically every week but WHAT WAS THAT EPISODE. so we're like, not following book plot at all anymore, which is cool (but I do wonder if the algid is gonna show up again? also if we're ever gonna see outside of Pheles! also....um, hello Val. hi. you didn't exist in the books. LMAO) this means he is free real estate for amer to revolutionize with sexy sexy chocolates

guys this episode gave me specifically so much food. like that parlan x sam thing I posted recently was a SIGN or something, did you guys SEE WHAT HAPPENED?? HE THREW HIMSELF OUT A WINDOW FOR MAT. i can't. Do I smell a revolutionary polycule? I s2g if parlan sacrifices himself for Mat though. ....

JOESME IS MAKING ME CRY AGAIN. we got like two minutes of esme being her og hot catgirlboss self (even if she was only flirting with enoch lmfao esquared gang rise up we have been BREAKING EVEN! gorgeous functional couple until they were back in the same geographic location) and then she got so soggy so fast. ughhhh poor jojo, emotional rollercoaster for him the ENTIRE TIME </333333

i'm kinda like 👀😳 but also like 😨👁👁 at leonora. i'm not the only one, right???

evil power couple tamwyn and leonora. how much do you think they're paying mads mikkelsen??? like a lot of the cast are unknown/newer actors and then BAM.

Cassius was having a Time this ep and honestly i cannot blame him. kid's gonna have some hella trauma tho. Dinner party from hell at the Remington estate except there was no dinner, no party, and i'm pretty sure he was just sitting there getting ignored/roasted by his grandparents the entire time before that??? ouch. at least he had Joel AND THE BUTTERFLY YARN BROOCH (my otp is fucking schrodinger's ship rn)

Nick. Nick Nick Knickolas Knackolas What the Fuckington. Sunday service at the Imperial cathedral is gonna be awkward. i'm not even catholic and that felt like Gooey (Glass Animals, 2014).

And POOR LUNA. Walking into the lion's den and taking IMMENSE psychic damage from every direction.

#odette in the butterfly garden #ep: mewlitary-bawl

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gymaccessoriesblogs · 2 years

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Gym Accessories

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highsviolets · 3 years

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rushing decadence: ezra x gender neutral reader

summary: sunflower shows ezra just how much they missed him. part of the voice actor!ezra au but can be read as a stand-alone.

pairing: voice actor!ezra x gender neutral reader

warnings: 18+ only!!! ezra gets pegged, dirty talk, references to masturbation, use of “good boy,” implied feelings, cumplay, ezra truly deserves his own warning

word count: a lil baby, 1.4k+

a/n: took the morning off from thesis wrangling and wrote this instead, lmao. inspired by an ask from the lovely (and devious) @astroboots. no beta. gif credit: @holdingthornsandroses

speechless is not a word you would use to describe ezra. you suspect very few would — the man makes a living from spinning forth words from lips of honey, after all. they are his fortress, his realm, his fae. they are more inimical to his being: a constant force sweeping through wreckage and downy meadows alike.

looking down at him, a smile a crosses your face. it’s small smile, unconscious in its blossoming that tugs the corner of your mouth up, up, up — but only a little. only a little, lest all the fondness you feel for him spill out and pour all over him. you could coat his strong body in the potent stuff and still have more left over. he inspires excess in you and perhaps that should scare you; maybe it does. maybe it does scare you, and that is why you bite your lip to keep the gurgle of words that flood into your mouth at bay, lest your body fall prey to his liquor-filled emotions.

and yet: you have already fallen prey, already played the willing victim of sorts to his cunning and his wit and his seductive smile.

hunter & prey. you & ezra swirl between these roles with little effort. he is used to playing a role and he does so gladly, eager to give as much as he is take. spinning you stories from sugar-spun words, he matches them with his actions. (that is to say: when he says something he means it, loving you with his body as much as his prose).

no, speechless is not how you would describe ezra.

but right now he is dangerously close to such a thing. there is a word for that and you tell him so, cooing sweetly as you brush the matted hair off of his forehead.

“oh, look at you, ezra,” you say. “is my good boy cockdumb?”

consternation rises in his brow at the phrase, competitive to the last. “i do not believe that is the precise description of my current s-state,” he grunts, one hand fisting in the sheets. the veins pop and match the set of his jaw, the dash of his tongue across his swollen lower lip.

swollen from me, you think, a bright yellow glimpse of pride coloring the thought. this had started as your saturday mornings usually do: wrapped in his soft linen sheets caressed by his touch and the tender offerings of sun streaming through his window. it wasn’t long before you had straddled him and kissed him and rocked yourself against him until he was panting, asking if he might be of service to his sunflower. you had nipped his lower lip, then, soothing it with your tongue before ignoring his request. you wanted his moans in your ear today, not your own. his. he had been away too long for you to not miss his wanton cries.

you ask him what the right phrase would be, then, speaking delicately to match the slow grind of your hips into his.

“d-dumb implies” — he takes a deep breath as you notch against a sensitive spot deep inside him — “the inability to s-speak, dear heart.” ezra finishes the sentence with difficulty, letting the endearment run into a low moan. the movement pushes his head deeper into the pillow and exposes his neck, the jump of his pulse plainly visible. an urge to kiss it swoops over you, low and hot and you comply, leaning forward to latch onto the sensitive skin.

you slide out of him slightly with your forward movement and ezra whines. his broad hand settles on your hip while you suck; his grip fiercely digging into your skin as though he can’t decide if he wants to push you away or pull you closer.

releasing his neck, your lips drift to his jaw and nip. “what was that, ezra? i didn’t hear you.”

the smile in his voice is evident, bright tones washing over your back and landing between your legs. “give me reason,” ezra replies equally as coy, “and i assure you i shall have no qualms engaging in repetition.”

his voice, breathy and strung out from the tension in his body, doesn’t have the same edge it usually does. it causes a shiver to run down your spine all the same, fueling the rapacious ache of desire building in you as it builds in him, too.

shifting back down to settle once more between his legs, you reward him with shallow thrusts. not enough to give him what he wants, but enough to remind him that he can have it — if he only asks.

catching sight of his cock, you grin again. curled against his stomach, it’s leaking from the tip, clearly wanting for attention.

“remember when i recorded us, ezra?” you ask, still teasing him as your hips move lightly, just brushing in and out. “remember when i recorded us in the studio, and i came in your mouth?”

he nods, blonde streak catching in the sunlight and the grip constricts around your hip. move faster, he’s trying to say. if you did, you think, maybe you could get him to come untouched.

did you listen to it when you were gone; did you come in your hand thinking about the way i tasted? i did, ezra; i thought about you all the time, you tell him.

his responding cry gets caught in his throat before strangling free. “please,” he begs, lifting his hips to chase yours, desperate for increased friction.

“please what, ezra?” but the strain peeks through your voice as well, the words heavy and hot on your tongue; they’re languorous, almost, in their immutability.

more, he finally breathes. darkened eyes that nevertheless glimmer in the morning sun meet your own and you smile, pleased to finally give him what you both want.

your thrusts become deeper and your hips lock, refraining from the urge to be sloppy. there’s no need to; you can already tell that he’s close enough without your being wrecked, too.

instead, you focus on precision, shamelessly slamming your hips into him over and over again, rubbing that spot that makes him babble praise. “i’m — oh shit — i’m so full,” he manages to whisper, another moan accompanying the admission.

“so full on what, ezra?” you ask, starting to pant yourself with the effort. “be a good boy and say it.”

“fucking hell, sunflower,” he drawls, eyes fluttering shut, as though that will protect him from the sight of you fucking him with abandon. “so full on — so full on your cock, sweetheart.”

impatient, your hand raises nearly of its own volition and smears the precum across tip, drawing another ragged whine from his lips. a finger runs the length of the swollen vein and he twitches, stomach muscles tensing at your relentless pace, at the feel of your hands on him.

i listened to you all the time when you were gone, you tell him, pumping his length in time with your thrusts. i wanted you cum all over me again; i missed it; i missed you.

“my dear sunflower,” ezra says, half-pleading, half-whining, a shaken timbre to his words, “if you fail to cease your actions you will be rewarded with what you seek.”

but that’s what i want, ezra; i want you to cum; be a good boy and make a mess; let it spill all over; you’ve been so good for me; i know it feels so good, baby.

words are never ezra’s undoing — they are his lens — and that is what undoes him more than anything, more than the grind of your hips, more than your hands teasing his cock.

the image, your voice, your hands, your hips, your praise: it’s all too much for him to hold out and ezra comes with a shout to kevva, head tilting back once more as hot ropes of come shoot out over his stomach and dribble onto your hand.

easing out of him, you stay nestled between his legs and lift a hand to swirl a finger in the stuff, gathering it on your finger. feeling his molten, if sated, gaze on you, you bring the finger to your mouth, letting your tongue peek out to taste just a drop before engulfing the entire digit between your lips, swirling your tongue around the tip.

“even better than i remembered,” you tell him shakily. now that ezra has reached his satisfaction your own need has reared up and the ache between your legs gnaws low in your belly. the sight of his reaction to you doesn’t help either — his come smeared over his stomach, his cheeks flushed and eyes bright with pleasure.

as if sensing your need, ezra tugs your wrist away from your mouth and uses the leverage to bring you closer. “come here, sunflower,” he rasps. “now it is my turn to enjoy your cries.”

fin.

tags for the bastard boyfriend: @frannyzooey @clan-djarin @astroboots @softdin @freeshavocadoooo @princessxkenobi @keeper0fthestars @thewayofthemandalorian @darthadeline @ennuiandthebourgeoisie @cannedsoupsucks @forever-rogue @kat-r-in @wyofabdoms @leonieb @javisjeanjacket @spvce-cowboy @agirllovespancakes @phoenixhalliwell @mitchi-c @salome-c @amneris21 @maciiiofficial @dindja @Velia7 @kesskirata @spideysimpossiblegirl @magpie-to-the-morning @javierpcna @julesorwhatever @lazybeeches @pedropascaldice @artsymaddie

#ezra x reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra x gender neutral reader #prospect 2018 #cris writes #adult tag #throwing this out into the void okay bye #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #usernobie #userdindja #userchrisann #voice actor!ezra

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butterflydm · 1 year

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Getting Mat to Falme - some possible paths

This is going to have spoilers for pretty much all the information that we have for s2, as far as I'm aware of it, at least, plus also book spoilers through book 4: The Shadow Rising. I also used @markantonys's post (here) where she pulled together all the various photos & teasers that we've gotten as reference too, because it looks pretty solid to me, plus added some thoughts based on her post here as well.

Because Mat is the big person of mystery -- we know he gets to Falme but how and with who? -- I kinda wanted to lay out the four main potential paths that I see for him and assess my own feelings on their likelihood.

I feel like there are two main branching paths of possibility:

Mat never escapes the White Tower.

Mat does escape (or is released from) the White Tower.

So, where the first path would take us is Mat being brought along with Liandrin, Elayne, Egwene, Nynaeve, and possibly Min. The main factor in favor of this possibility is that Mat is still wearing his Two River clothes in the picture we have that looks like it's from Falme (the background matches one of the Perrin & Aviendha photos).

But that's really the only thing that leans me towards this branch of possibilities -- I feel like that leaves Mat a lot of time where he's just not really doing anything. I do feel like Mat needs to spend some significant time in captivity though, for two reasons: a. it will mirror Egwene being in captivity at the end of the season; b. the show has shown itself to care a lot about setting up Mat's later choices to make sense in context of his characterization, so I think they will make sure to give a solid foundation to his personal fear/wariness towards Aes Sedai and to making it stronger than Rand's or especially Perrin's.

I think we are more likely to go with option 2, where he will get released from the White Tower, much as he does in The Dragon Reborn, either by Siuan Sanche or by the Wondergirls.

Path two gives us some more options about where Mat could go. Specifically, whether he gets to Falme by himself or if he joins up with either Perrin or Rand.

(a.) If Mat is going to Falme on his own, there are a few potential companions that he could have going with him from the White Tower: Verin or Min (since we know that Thom isn't in s2, at least per his actor), or maybe one or both of Elayne's brothers.

I think Verin is less likely -- I suspect we'll spend time with her in Perrin's plotline (maybe Rand's, but Rand doesn't need 'an Aes Sedai' in Cairhien if he already has Moiraine and only having Moiraine and not having an Aes Sedai who has access to saidar means that Rand would be the one that Moiraine would need to lean on for any channeling, like say for a Portal Stone to Toman Head; and if Verin and Perrin spend time in S2 getting to know each other, then she could simply go along with him to the Two Rivers in S3), though we may briefly meet her in episode one, before she leaves and then reappears in Perrin's plotline.

Min is a distinct possibility if Mat is going off on his own, though. She is likely to be in Tar Valon when the season opens (based on two factors: it's her hometown and her aunt was cast for the second season, and the most likely place for Min to have scenes with her aunt is in her hometown). Min and Mat having a road trip together would also be helpful for the future, since it would give them some time to bond.

The problem with Mat going off with Gawyn is that... Gawyn actually getting involved in all the various ta'veren shenanigans would make him going back to Tar Valon to work underneath Elaida feel kinda weird (unless the split up after Falme ends up being more "a bunch of people go back to the White Tower and then split up again from there", so Elayne, Gawyn, Egwene, & Min all go to the Tower with Verin (who takes the Horn back with her?), and Elayne & Egwene get raised to Accepted in S3, then get sent off again... but then how/when does Egwene ends up in the Waste?).

Mat going with Galad might make more sense because -- well, the Whitecloaks are in Falme directly fighting against the Seanchan. It's literally going to be their Best Look Ever and Galad could join up with them without looking like the worst brother ever, because they actually are trying to help at that point in time.

Going with both of the brothers together potentially solves the "Gawyn knows too much if he goes to Falme" issue -- if Mat runs into the Whitecloaks, he and Galad could get tugged along into heading in their direction towards Falme (maybe even with Mat being a semi-prisoner again, if he's recognized by any of the Whitecloaks as being part of the group from the Two Rivers that was traveling with Moiraine?) while Gawyn takes off on his own at that point (ending up back at the White Tower, while Galad eventually ends up joining the Whitecloaks after the Battle of Falme?).

Now, where would Mat be going on his own?

Straight to Falme seems possible: if Min or Mat overhears/finds out that Liandrin took Egwene, Nynaeve, & Elayne away for sinister purposes, then Siuan could ask them to go to Falme on her behalf; and both Gawyn and Galad would have reasons to want to go after Elayne to try to help her.

Mat could also do the "letter to Morgase" plot and go to Caemlyn, though I feel like it's... unlikely that they would cast Morgase & Co this early on. But it's a possibility, and it would mean that Mat could overhear a plot that would send him in the direction of Falme.

(b.) Mat might join up with Perrin and his group. I have to admit... this does seem fairly unlikely to me, because from the photos and teasers that have been released, it looks like Perrin is going to be running into the Seanchan in episode 4 (5 by the latest, as Loial is already a prisoner and hanging out with Suroth in the episode 5 picture). It just doesn't seem like the pacing would work out for Mat to be captured, held by Liandrin, get set loose (maybe by Siuan), and then find his way to Perrin by episode 4.

(c.) Okay, confession: this last one is definitely my favorite possibility. But I feel like it has some solid backing! It is, of course, the one where Mat goes with Rand to Falme.

Here's how this one would work (I'm also making some guesses at where those leaked episode titles might fall and what they refer to):

2x1 - A Taste of Solitude (confirmed title for ep 1): Mat is captured by the Red Ajah in Tar Valon and secretly held captive. We know he has at least one scene with Liandrin, so I'm gonna place it here. Egwene & Nynaeve arrive at the White Tower; Rand is off wandering on his own; Moiraine and Lan are either doing research or on the hunt for Rand. Mat focused episode in Tar Valon, so that the audience can settle in with "new Mat" right away.

2x2 - Eyes Without Pity (Wolfbrother eyes): Perrin hunting the Horn meeting Elyas, maybe with a quick reminder that Mat is locked up & all other plotlines, etc. This might also be when Rand meets 'Selene', after he's had a taste of solitude in the previous episode. Perrin focused episode.

2x3 - What Might Be (Accepted testing): Probably when Nynaeve is raised as Accepted; maybe Elayne discovers that a man (Mat) is being held prisoner in the dungeons of the White Tower (the lantern image) and tells Siuan, who brings him up to the healing quarters and chastises the Red Ajah (stirring them up even more against her?). Rand arrives in Cairhien? Maybe Perrin & co entering the Ways to chase after the Horn & dagger towards Falme? Nynaeve-focused episode, with some Elayne & Egwene.

2x4 - Daughter of the Night (Lanfear): It looks like this is when Moiraine, Lan, & Rand meet up, Foregate goes up in flames, and Rand probably begins his training, both with politics (Moiraine) and the sword (Lan); I'm guessing that Rand will learn Selene's identity here. This may also be when Perrin & co encounter the Seanchan, when Perrin meets Aviendha, and when Loial gets captured. Rand, Moiraine, & Lan focused episode, with Perrin as the main subplot.

2x5 - Strangers and Friends (Seanchan and Darkfriends): We know that we're going to get some looks at Suroth & Ishamael, and we might learn about the Dark One's plans. This may also be the episode when Liandrin tricks the girls into leaving Tar Valon and Mat finds out about her plans (like he originally overheard Gaebril in TDR) and tells Siuan Sanche, maybe because he doesn't have anywhere else to turn. She sends him to Cairhien with a message for Moiraine (I'm assuming that Moiraine has let Siuan know that she's in Cairhien via a coded message of some kind). Potentially the episode when Egwene gets collared (at the end?).

2x6 - Damane (Egwene in captivity): Mat travels towards Cairhien, either alone or with Min (as per the reasoning in path a), potentially meeting Aludra along the way and getting some fireworks, as she would have been exiled back in episode four when the chapterhouse went up in flames. Another possibility here is that Siuan takes Mat to Cairhien herself; thus giving us a Moiraine & Siuan reunion in the next episode. Focused on Egwene in Falme (maybe also Nynaeve & co run into Perrin & co and they team up?).

2x7: Mat arrives in Cairhien and tells Siuan's message to Moiraine and we may get emotional fallout of Moiraine sending the Red Ajah after Mat from both Rand and from Lan, who does pull away from Moiraine in the books and this would give the viewers a solid reason why he might begin to do that. Moiraine realizes that the only way to get to Falme quickly is to use the Portal Stones, but Rand will have to channel to use them, because Moiraine is still shielded and/or stilled (but my guess is shielded). Focused on Moraine, Rand, Mat, Lan in Cairhien (and maybe Min, if she went along in Mat's plotline instead of going along in Egwene's). I don't have a guess about the episode title for this one, as we only got six potential titles leaked. Siuan would head back to the White Tower at this time, if she's the way that Mat got to Cairhien.

2x8: Moiraine, Lan, Mat, and Rand arrive in Falme and the fireworks go off for everyone, big finale. We don't have a spoiled title that feels like it fits this episode but I've seen people speculate that it'll be "The Grave Is No Bar To My Call" and that makes sense.

(actually, if the show doesn't go in this direction, I might end up writing it as an AU after the season airs, lol)

#wheel of time #wot #the wheel of time #wot speculation #mat cauthon #wot spoilers #wot on prime spoilers #wot book spoilers #the shadow rising #wot on prime #wot s2 spoilers #wot prime spoilers

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sparktober · 3 years

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Sparktober Bingo 2021!

Back for a new generation: Sparktober Bingo!

Instead of coming up with an Atlantis-specific list of prompts, I compiled a bunch of 2021 -tober prompt lists into one google doc here. (Links to original prompt lists are on the google doc.) Add in a list of Atlantis episodes and...

How to play:

Choose a “flavor” from the prompt sets below the cut, then paste it into this fandom bingo card generator.

Adjust your browser size til it looks right and take a screenshot, or use the html script if you’re familiar with using html on tumblr. Tag @sparktober if you want us to reblog it so everyone knows you’re playing!

Sparktober Bingo Rules:

Complete a row/column, corners, or a blackout of your card by November 1, or not! Update as you go.

All fan-works are allowed: art, edits, fic, meta... bonus points to anyone who picks the “sprinkles” flavor and goes full mid-aughts by filling their bingo cards with 100x100 pixel icons.

You are allowed to pull multiple cards until you get one that inspires you, and you can also go through the prompt list of your choice in advance to pull out squicks or things you absolutely won’t write. I recommend not googling unfamiliar words from your work computer.

Use the prompts liberally! Episode titles can be treated as the episode or as generic prompts (e.g. “Epiphany” can be for an episode-related fic or a prompt for an epiphany of your choice).

Flavor descriptions:

VANILLA: Gen prompt lists from Fictober, Inktober, Trektober Gen, and Trektober Trek.

CHOCOLATE: Zesty prompt lists from Trektober NSFW, Kinktober, and Whumptober. The multiple-prompts-per-day from Kinktober and Whumptober have been broken into individual prompts.

CANDY CORN: Fall / holiday themed prompts from TUA-tober.

SPRINKLES: Atlantis episode list (in order, in case you only want to copy certain seasons), along with characters and a few Atlantis-specific prompts.

TWIST: All of the above! (You can also manually mix and match different flavors, of course.)

Text blocks to copy into the bingo card generator are below the cut. Enjoy!!

VANILLA

CHOCOLATE

A/B/O; Soft; Anonymous Sex; Penetration with Object/s; Sleeping; Intercrural Sex; Restraints; In/Under Water; Group Sex; First Time; Possessive Behavior; Dry Humping / Grinding; Overstimulation; Roleplay; Rimming; Stretching / Fisting; Power Imbalance; Food Play; Fingering; Body Worship; Sex Work; Voyeurism / Exhibitionism; Safewords; Technology; Oral Sex; Omorashi / Wetting; Crying; Underwear / Lingerie; Friends with Benefits; Pain Kink; Dirty Talk; Trick or Treat; All trussed up and nowhere to go; Talking is overrated; Sticks and stones may break my bones...; Trust fall; I've got red in my ledger; Touch and go; My spidey-sense is tingling; Coughing up a lung; Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated; Oops, I did it again; Just keep swimming; It'll be fun, they said; That's gonna leave a mark; Under pressure; Feed a cold, starve a fever; On a need-to-know basis; Field care 101; The doctor is in; Just a scratch; Lost & found; That's where the blood's supposed to be; They made me do it; You break it, you buy it; One down, two to go; Hide & Seek; You will go down with this ship; “I'm fine, I prom...”; It's (not) just in your head; All work and no play; Digging your grave; Hurt & Comfort; “You have to let go.”; Garotte; Taunting; “Do you trust me?”; Betrayal; Bruises; Helplessness; Pneumothorax; Presumed Dead; Hospital; Adrift; Torture; “This is gonna suck.”; Crush injuries; Delirium; Recovery; “Please don't move.”; “Now smile for the camera.”; Bitten; Trunk; Bleeding through bandages; Cursed; Auction; Self-induced injuries to escape; Escape; Fallen; Passing out; “Good, you're finally awake.”; “You're still not dead?”; Major character death; Disaster zone; Barbed Wire; Choking; Insults; Taken Hostage; Misunderstanding; Touch Starved; Numbness; Exotic Illness; (Blind) Rage; Flare-Up; Drowning; Made To Watch; Burns; Beaten; Fever Dreams; Scars; Hemorrhage; Doctor Visit; Bleeding; Trapped Under Water; Pressure; Demon; Ransom; Flashback; Flight; Waterfall; Vertigo; Nightmares; Too Weak To Move; Left For Dead; Trauma; Bound; Gagged; “Who Did This To You?”; Pushed; Broken Nose; Hunger; Blindness; “Definitely Just A Cold”; Tears; Ice Chips; Dehydration; Begging; Cauterization; Force; Bees; Aftermath; Dread; Cpr; Stabbing; Solitary Confinement; Blood-Matted Hair; Obsession; Pursuit; Revenge; Hiding; Trap Door; Collapse; Panic; Overworked; Ghosts; Prisoner; Losing Control; Threats; Caning; Mercy; Forgotten; Head Injury; Screaming; Comfort; Self-Sacrifice; Trapped; Near-Death Experience; Regret; Tragedy; Battlefield; Anxiety; Gore; Petplay; Bimbofication; Panties & Lingerie; Bondage; Double Penetration in 2 Holes; Breeding; Humiliation; NTR; Incest; Emeto; Omorashi; Free Use; Crossdressing; Public; Three (or more) some; Daddy & Mommy; Double Penetration in 1 Hole; Distention & Cockbulge; Xenophilia; Shotgunning; Watersports; Pregnancy; Lactation; Waxplay; Grooming; Human Furniture; Feet; Prostituion; MacroMicro; Spanking; Cockwarming; Glory Hole; Somnophilia; Body Modification; Temperature Play; Leather; Size Difference; Sounding; Stockings; Tentacles; Medical Play; Stripping; Orgasm Denial; Master & slave; Scissoring; Titfucking; Frottage; Knifeplay; Formal Wear; Breathplay; Fisting; Pegging; Scat; Beastiality; Fucking Machine; Tickling; Boot Worship; Bukkake; Collaring; Foodplay; Non or dubcon; Feederism; Sensory Deprivation; Oviposition; Clone & Selfcest; Exhibitionism & Voyeurism; Impact Play; Sadomasochism; Bloodplay; Praise Kink; Body Swap; Sweat; Branding; Massage; Role Reversal; Armpit; Masturbation; Inflation; Sex Toys; Burnplay; Menophilia; Stuck in Wall; Deepthroating & Facesitting; Dacryphilia; Hate Sex

CANDY CORN

Birthday; Sick Day; Autumn; Candles; Plaid / Flannel; Leaf Piles; Sweaters; Baking; Cinnamon; Pumpkin Spice Latte; Carnival; Movie Night; Candy; Graveyard; Black Cats; Goosebumps; Pumpkin; Party; Monster; Ghosts; Witch; Vampire; Traditions; Magic; Mask; Haunted House; Trick; Treat; Costume; Monster Mash; Halloween

SPRINKLES

Rising Part 1; Rising Part 2; Hide and Seek; Thirty-Eight Minutes; Suspicion; Childhood's End; Poisoning the Well; Underground; Home; The Storm; The Eye; The Defiant One; Hot Zone; Sanctuary; Before I Sleep; The Brotherhood; Letters from Pegasus; The Gift; The Siege Part 1; The Siege Part 2; The Siege Part 3; The Intruder; Runner; Duet; Condemned; Trinity; Instinct; Conversion; Aurora; The Lost Boys; The Hive; Epiphany; Critical Mass; Grace Under Pressure; The Tower; The Long Goodbye; Coup d'Etat; Michael; Inferno; Allies; No Man's Land; Misbegotten; Irresistible; Sateda; Progeny; The Real World; Common Ground; McKay and Mrs. Miller; Phantoms; The Return Part 1; The Return Part 2; Echoes; Irresponsible; Tao of Rodney; The Game; The Ark; Sunday; Submersion; Vengeance; First Strike; Adrift; Lifeline; Reunion; Doppelganger; Travelers; Tabula Rasa; Missing; The Seer; Miller's Crossing; This Mortal Coil; Be All My Sins Remember'd; Spoils of War; Quarantine; Harmony; Outcast; Trio; Midway; The Kindred Part 1; The Kindred Part 2; The Last Man; Search and Rescue; The Seed; Broken Ties; The Daedalus Variations; Ghost in the Machine; The Shrine; Whispers; The Queen; Tracker; First Contact; The Lost Tribe; Outsiders; Inquisition; The Prodigal; Remnants; Brain Storm; Infection; Identity; Vegas; Enemy at the Gate; Ronon Dex; Teyla Emmagan; John Sheppard; Carson Beckett; Elizabeth Weir; Rodney McKay; Jennifer Keller; Samantha Carter; Aiden Ford; Radek Zelenka; Kate Heightmeyer; Evan Lorne; Laura Cadman; Kolya; Chuck; Peter Grodin; Steven Caldwell; Lantea; Ocean; Ancient(s); Richard Woolsey; Athosians; Daedalus; Wraith; Nanites; Asurans; Genii; DHD; SGC; Stargate; Earth; Antarctica; Ascension

TWIST

“I need you.”; “You have no proof.”; “I’ve waited for this.”; “Fine, I give up.”; “I’m not saying I told you so…”; “Didn’t we already have this conversation?”; “That could have gone better.”; “This is it, isn’t it?”; “There’s no right side to this.”; “It’s so quiet.”; “I swear, it’s not always like this.”; “You keep me safe.”; “The things you make me do…”; “Your information was wrong.”; “I like that in you.”; “Not this again.”; “I’m with you, you know that.”; “This was not part of the plan.”; “I feel strange.”; “That’s what I’m known for.”; “What did I say?”; “No promises.”; “This time, do what I say.”; “Is this supposed to impress me?”; “Do you know what time it is?”; “I’m sure this has never worked, ever.”; “You could have died!”; “I don’t have to explain myself.”; “Why are we whispering?”; “Don’t ruin this.”; “Take me with you.”; Crystal; Suit; Vessel; Knot; Raven; Spirit; Fan; Watch; Pressure; Pick; Sour; Stuck; Roof; Tick; Helmet; Compass; Collide; Moon; Loop; Sprout; Fuzzy; Open; Leak; Extinct; Splat; Connect; Spark; Crispy; Patch; Slither; Risk; Meet-Cute; Amnesia; Age Difference; Pining; Sick Fic; Fake Relationship; Accidental Meeting; Epistolary; Secret Identity; Historical AU; Nightmares; Monster Hunter; A/B/O; Reunion; Soulmates; At Pride; Angst; Seasons; Fix-It; Coffee Shop; Movie Plot AU; Kid Fic; Actor's Other Crossover Work; OT+; Getting Together; Only One Bed; Pirates; Making Up; Forbidden Relationship; Tattoos; Halloween; Prime Directive; Lower Decks / Background Characters; Away Mission; Ship's Bar; Aliens Made Them Do It; Observation Deck; Crew with Family; Holodeck; Science Crew; Character Survives; Headcanons; Diplomacy; Decontamination; Trek Crossover; Replicator; Worldbuilding; Redshirts; Sex / Love Potion; Medical Crew; Transporters; Medbay; Interspecies Relationship; Mirrorverse; Uniforms; Mutiny; Stranded on a Planet; Rec Room; Academy Era; Second Contact; Command Crew; Off-Duty; Soft; Anonymous Sex; Penetration with Object/s; Sleeping; Intercrural Sex; Restraints; In/Under Water; Group Sex; First Time; Possessive Behavior; Dry Humping / Grinding; Overstimulation; Roleplay; Rimming; Stretching / Fisting; Power Imbalance; Food Play; Fingering; Body Worship; Sex Work; Voyeurism / Exhibitionism; Safewords; Technology; Oral Sex; Omorashi / Wetting; Crying; Underwear / Lingerie; Friends with Benefits; Pain Kink; Dirty Talk; Trick or Treat; All trussed up and nowhere to go; Talking is overrated; Sticks and stones may break my bones...; Trust fall; I've got red in my ledger; Touch and go; My spidey-sense is tingling; Coughing up a lung; Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated; Oops, I did it again; Just keep swimming; It'll be fun, they said; That's gonna leave a mark; Under pressure; Feed a cold, starve a fever; On a need-to-know basis; Field care 101; The doctor is in; Just a scratch; Lost & found; That's where the blood's supposed to be; They made me do it; You break it, you buy it; One down, two to go; You will go down with this ship; “I'm fine, I prom...”; It's (not) just in your head; All work and no play; Digging your grave; Hurt & Comfort; “You have to let go.”; Garotte; Taunting; “Do you trust me?”; Betrayal; Bruises; Helplessness; Pneumothorax; Presumed Dead; Hospital; Adrift; Torture; “This is gonna suck.”; Crush injuries; Delirium; Recovery; “Please don't move.”; “Now smile for the camera.”; Bitten; Trunk; Bleeding through bandages; Cursed; Auction; Self-induced injuries to escape; Escape; Fallen; Passing out; “Good, you're finally awake.”; “You're still not dead?”; Major character death; Disaster zone; Barbed Wire; Choking; Insults; Taken Hostage; Misunderstanding; Touch Starved; Numbness; Exotic Illness; (Blind) Rage; Flare-Up; Drowning; Made To Watch; Burns; Beaten; Fever Dreams; Scars; Hemorrhage; Doctor Visit; Bleeding; Trapped Under Water; Demon; Ransom; Flashback; Flight; Waterfall; Vertigo; Too Weak To Move; Left For Dead; Trauma; Bound; Gagged; “Who Did This To You?”; Pushed; Broken Nose; Hunger; Blindness; “Definitely Just A Cold”; Tears; Ice Chips; Dehydration; Begging; Cauterization; Force; Bees; Aftermath; Dread; Cpr; Stabbing; Solitary Confinement; Blood-Matted Hair; Obsession; Pursuit; Revenge; Hiding; Trap Door; Collapse; Panic; Overworked; Ghosts; Prisoner; Losing Control; Threats; Caning; Mercy; Forgotten; Head Injury; Screaming; Comfort; Self-Sacrifice; Trapped; Near-Death Experience; Regret; Tragedy; Battlefield; Anxiety; Gore; Petplay; Bimbofication; Panties & Lingerie; Bondage; Double Penetration in 2 Holes; Breeding; Humiliation; NTR; Incest; Emeto; Omorashi; Free Use; Crossdressing; Public; Three (or more) some; Daddy & Mommy; Double Penetration in 1 Hole; Distention & Cockbulge; Xenophilia; Shotgunning; Watersports; Pregnancy; Lactation; Waxplay; Grooming; Human Furniture; Feet; Prostituion; MacroMicro; Spanking; Cockwarming; Glory Hole; Somnophilia; Body Modification; Temperature Play; Leather; Size Difference; Sounding; Stockings; Tentacles; Medical Play; Stripping; Orgasm Denial; Master & slave; Scissoring; Titfucking; Frottage; Knifeplay; Formal Wear; Breathplay; Fisting; Pegging; Scat; Beastiality; Fucking Machine; Tickling; Boot Worship; Bukkake; Collaring; Foodplay; Non or dubcon; Feederism; Sensory Deprivation; Oviposition; Clone & Selfcest; Exhibitionism & Voyeurism; Impact Play; Sadomasochism; Bloodplay; Praise Kink; Body Swap; Sweat; Branding; Massage; Role Reversal; Armpit; Masturbation; Inflation; Sex Toys; Burnplay; Menophilia; Stuck in Wall; Deepthroating & Facesitting; Dacryphilia; Hate Sex; Birthday; Sick Day; Autumn; Candles; Plaid / Flannel; Leaf Piles; Sweaters; Baking; Cinnamon; Pumpkin Spice Latte; Carnival; Movie Night; Candy; Graveyard; Black Cats; Goosebumps; Pumpkin; Party; Monster; Witch; Vampire; Traditions; Magic; Mask; Haunted House; Trick; Treat; Costume; Monster Mash; Rising Part 1; Rising Part 2; Hide and Seek; Thirty-Eight Minutes; Suspicion; Childhood's End; Poisoning the Well; Underground; Home; The Storm; The Eye; The Defiant One; Hot Zone; Sanctuary; Before I Sleep; The Brotherhood; Letters from Pegasus; The Gift; The Siege Part 1; The Siege Part 2; The Siege Part 3; The Intruder; Runner; Duet; Condemned; Trinity; Instinct; Conversion; Aurora; The Lost Boys; The Hive; Epiphany; Critical Mass; Grace Under Pressure; The Tower; The Long Goodbye; Coup d'Etat; Michael; Inferno; Allies; No Man's Land; Misbegotten; Irresistible; Sateda; Progeny; The Real World; Common Ground; McKay and Mrs. Miller; Phantoms; The Return Part 1; The Return Part 2; Echoes; Irresponsible; Tao of Rodney; The Game; The Ark; Sunday; Submersion; Vengeance; First Strike; Lifeline; Doppelganger; Travelers; Tabula Rasa; Missing; The Seer; Miller's Crossing; This Mortal Coil; Be All My Sins Remember'd; Spoils of War; Quarantine; Harmony; Outcast; Trio; Midway; The Kindred Part 1; The Kindred Part 2; The Last Man; Search and Rescue; The Seed; Broken Ties; The Daedalus Variations; Ghost in the Machine; The Shrine; Whispers; The Queen; Tracker; First Contact; The Lost Tribe; Outsiders; Inquisition; The Prodigal; Remnants; Brain Storm; Infection; Identity; Vegas; Enemy at the Gate; Ronon Dex; Teyla Emmagan; John Sheppard; Carson Beckett; Elizabeth Weir; Rodney McKay; Jennifer Keller; Samantha Carter; Aiden Ford; Radek Zelenka; Kate Heightmeyer; Evan Lorne; Laura Cadman; Kolya; Chuck; Peter Grodin; Steven Caldwell; Lantea; Ocean; Ancient(s); Richard Woolsey; Athosians; Daedalus; Wraith; Nanites; Asurans; Genii; DHD; SGC; Stargate; Earth; Antarctica; Ascension

#sparktober is coming #sparktober #sparktober bingo

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grimessbitch · 3 years

Text

Secrets- Uncle! Daryl Dixon x teen! reader

Summary: Growing up without your father really present your uncle Daryl takes you under his wing and raises you, once Negan is captured and Rick is gone you break down to your uncle in the woods, you open up about things you never did and he comforts and promises to protect you from now on.

Warnings: Angst as hell, Merle is just a bad fucked up person in this and it’s really dark (no hate to the actor who plays Merle), mentions/light detail of sexual Assult, mentions of abuse, language, some really sad shit at the end about Carl. I think that’s it.

Whenever the apocalypse hit you stuck by your father and Uncle’s sides like it was your lifeline considering you were only 2 years old, so whenever Merle went missing from the rooftop instantly you went to Daryl’s side and stayed with him until you were around five or six, whenever your uncle found your father again you went to stay with him and the governor, the time there you went through some things, your uncle and his friends rescuing you after the fall of the governor along with the governor’s people. During that time you told nobody about what happened, you had learned from your dad and your uncle what happens in the past stays in the past, what happened has happened and there’s no need to bring it up, but it ate at you, all day, all night, everytime, and the saviors just made the nightmares worse, especially whenever you stayed with Negan after he took your Uncle as prisoner. You’d think after ten years you would’ve forgotten about it but you didn’t, it ate at you everytime you closed your eyes, and half of you was convinced that it was because you never got to talk about it to anybody, the other half blames yourself for going with your dad that day. You couldn’t tell your Uncle, it’d destroy him inside and out because he had sworn to protect you and in a sense he had failed at that whenever you left. You knew he’d blame himself for it and you couldn’t put him through that, especially now with the death of Rick Grimes and Carl Grimes, he was already closed off, still blaming himself for everybodies deaths. Rick’s, Carl’s, Glenn’s, everybody.

“Kid?..you good?..” Daryl asked looking at you holding his crossbow steady, you were standing behind him holding both knives tightly, your eyes glossy and you could feel the lump in your throat, you couldn’t break down now, you were on a run and needed to get the food. “Huh?..yea yea I’m good let’s go...first one to find a Twinkie gets to keep it” you smirked giggling as he narrowed his eyes at you “fine then. Let’s go” he challenged opening the door slowly to the convenient store. You tried to keep your mind clear as you walked down the isles grabbing whatever food was still good and sealed, shoving it all in your bag you let out a shaky sigh staring at the walker banging on the door outside opposite of the door you came in. “Y/n?..kiddo, let’s go” he said smiling holding up two twinkies tossing you one as he held the door open, you quickly walked over hearing the broken glass crunch under your feet. You climbed onto the back of your uncle’s bike holding onto him tightly as the bike started and he sped off back to Alexandria.

You stared at the fire sitting on the log that Daryl had laid out for you so you wouldn’t have to sit on the mud, he stood a few feet away skinning a deer he had caught. “Kid..come ere” you heard him whisper as he wiped his hands off onto his jeans, slowly you stood up walking over looking up at him “what’s going on?..especially on the run today..with the..teary eyes- you looked like a kicked puppy seriously what’s goin on with you?” He asked crossing his arms looking at you, his tone sounded annoyed but you could tell by his face he really was concerned. The choked up feeling was back and you couldn’t take a breath without whimpering “are you okay?..” he asked softly dropping his arms to cup one of your cheeks worriedly, silently you shook your head hugging him tightly, you were terrified of him calling you a baby, that it happened years ago and to get over it. “What’s goin on...you’ve gotta talk to me..” Daryl whispered looking at you as you rested your face against his chest, all he could do was stroke your hair and play with it trying to comfort you the best he could without technically knowing what was wrong. You let out occasional sobs which only worried Daryl more, he had never seen you cry, even whenever you learned your father was dead, you didn’t shed a single tear. He slowly lead you over to your guys’ tent sitting you both down on the blanket mat you had.

“Come on sweetheart tell me wha’s goin on” It pained you to hear your uncle’s voice break like it did, especially whenever you knew it was because of you. “P-promise you won’t be mad at me?..” you whimpered looking up at him sniffling “I-I promise sweetheart just tell me okay?..” he whispered cupping your face making you look at him “I won’t be mad but you gotta tell me what’s going on” he added on letting you look away from him. “W-whenever...whenever I was with my dad..and we stayed with the governor..dad hurt me..all the time..on purpose..because I-I sat wrong o-or because of something t-that happened that day and I-it got to the point where the governor was hurting me..and dad never stopped him” You said stopping for a minute to try and swallow the lump in your throat. “Then whenever I turned six..it’s whenever the guys there started touching me..either just..groping me during runs or whenever I was playing..or..going..all the way while I was sleeping...I told my dad and he..just told me to deal with it because if I didn’t we wouldn’t have a place to stay anymore..” You whispered your voice cracking as Daryl hugged you tightly kissing your forehead “I-I never told anybody..a-and whenever it started at the sanctuary..I didn’t tell anybody just one of the wives a-and whenever...they told Negan..he forced me to kill the guy..” you cried holding onto his vest your entire body shaking with sobs or anxiety. “I-I didn’t want to tell you..because I knew it’d hurt you a-and then Spencer a-and I got..overwhelmed” You admitted holding onto him tightly “C-Carl knew..about Spencer and the sanctuary but not..not the governor..a-and it’s been eating me alive for years a-and I know I’m a baby for not being able to get over it but it’s so fucking hard” you cried, you whimpered as he jerked your face up a little too rough for your liking “You’re..youre no’ a baby...you are one of the strongest people I know, kid..your daddy? He’s jus’ a fuckin pussy..beatin on little girls..letting everybody get away with tha’ shit..” he whispered rubbing your back “listen..if anything like that happens I’m the one you tell, me. I swear I’ll kill every one of em that dares to try it..” he said pointing at himself to emphasize what he meant, you nodded a bit crying louder, as he whispered to you it was okay and that he was there to protect you, you slowly felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders.

Whenever you woke up you were still in the tent curled up in the blanket, Daryl no where to be seen, until you saw he was sitting in front of the fire poking at it with a stick, it had to of been around six or seven am because the sun was slowly rising and there was a morning dew on the leaves and grass. “Uncle Daryl?..” You whispered as you crawled out of the tent sitting next to him, using your blanket to try and drap it over his shoulders “are you okay?..” you whispered careful not to wake Dog who was quietly sleeping on the patch of grass next to Daryl. “M fine..” he grunted, you knew this would happen, you knew once you told him he’d start to get closed off again “do you think..you’d feel better..if you uh..told me about before the walkers..whenever you were younger?..” you asked grabbing your knife slowly starting to cut the hair out of his eyes. “Said ‘m fine, kid. Leave it be..” he grunted again swatting at your hands, you quickly dropped the knife grabbing his hands staring at him “don’t act like this..please..I don’t want you to feel like it’s your fault please..just tell me anything..anything that you’d think would make you feel better” you begged looking at him, you watched as Daryl thought, his face changing from cold and silent to almost like a broken man who never got an outlet for his pain. “Please..Uncle Daryl..just tell me..” you whispered holding his hands tighter giving them a small squeeze. “How’d you know?..bou’ how mine and your daddy’s childhood was?” He asked looking at you tightening his jaws, his walls slowly building back up “My dad..used to tell me stories about his side..about how he used hunting as an escape from your dad..everytime he told me I wondered how you put up with it..with the staying with dad even after he hurt you so many times along with your dad..” you whispered sitting criss crossed in front of him looking up at him curiously. “I stayed with your dad because he made me..made me think I needed him..I always was depent on ‘im..then he started leavin me home..my dad needed an output for his drinkin..took it out on me..stabbed once because I stuck up for Merle..still got the scar” he explained lifting his moss green shirt to show you the small scar on his side, you lightly traced your fingers over it looking up at him, a silent way of encouraging him to go on. “I stuck back with him again..he got me into a shit ton of trouble..all the time and yet..I followed him around like a little bitch..-I ain’t nobody’s Bitch-“ he said quickly making you laugh a bit “I guess..after losing him on the rooftop..the way you looked at me..I saw a lil’ of myself in you..like..the way I used to look at Merle..and I knew I couldn’t do that to you..I couldn’t convince you to do the stupid dangerous shit because I didn’t want to..and you still give me the same look you used to give me whenever you were a baby..the little stink eye and glare whenever your angry..- hey you remember whenever..at the lineup..you attacked Negan?..took his damn bat and tried to beat him with it?..you gotta good hit on him considering you were what? Seven? Eight?” He laughed ruffling your hair, you wanted to bring up the lineup and how you knew that Daryl blamed himself for Glenn’s death but you didn’t. “Yea..and once we uh..managed to capture Negan..we uh..we beat the hell out of him once his stitches were out..” you giggled leaning against his torso, sitting between his legs facing the fire. “You know..Carl loved you..told me all the time” he chuckled “he’s lucky I didn’t kill em whenever you two started datin” he smiled looking at you, only now did you realize he was crying “it was only for a few months..he wrote me a letter..along with you..I never got to give yours to you..you ran off before I could..it got ruined..” you whispered tearing up “he waited until we left..to do it..he didn’t want me to know..” you added on laying your head on his knee “we’ll be okay..as long as we have each other right..” Daryl whispered to you resting his arms on your head watching the sun slowly come up

“Think we should go surprise Judith? Isser’ birthday” Daryl asked you helping you up off the ground stomping out the fire “sure, let’s go old man, last one to Alexandria sucks” you challenged smiling whenever he woke Dog up “oh you’re so on.” He smirked.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead #twd #thewalkingdead Daryl Dixon #dad! Daryl Dixon #uncle! Daryl Dixon #merle dixon #Carl Grimes #Judith Grimes

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