#i thought about how lonely it must’ve been for her. and how hard having a child that young is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewulf · 4 months

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My Treasure || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Summary: Request - I need a Bradley x reader or Jake x reader based on the quote, “I can’t keep being your second choice, not when you’re my first.” Some angst to fluff goodness maybe

A/N: Ahh thank you for the request! You guys always have the best. Hope you enjoy some good old angst/fluff! Hope you guys enjoy :)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Y/N

Word Count: 1.7k +

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you watched the small tea candle burn out without a trace of Bradley. It was the sixth time in as many nights that he had let you down. He’d promised you he would be home tonight in time for dinner. You’d gotten ready, decided to look cute for him and cooked his favorite meal. You were excited at the thought of reconnecting with your long-time boyfriend. It had gotten hard before, sure, but this distance was like nothing you’d felt before in the years you had been together. It felt like your worst fears were coming true, he was pulling away from you. Planning to leave you.

With a huff you left the uneaten food on the table for him to see when he got home. You weren’t planning to be there. You called your mom with tears flowing letting her know you were planning to stay with her for the next few nights. She didn’t question a thing and told you your room would be ready. She’d have time to pester later, you needed her not to right now.

In a rush you through your clothes haphazardly into an overnight bag. You’d have to figure out your living situation later. In your haste you hadn’t heard the front door open and close. Or his curse downstairs. Nor his heavy footsteps on the stairs as he walked up to your shared bedroom. You’d only noticed him when he placed a hand on your shoulder sending you into a slight panic as he startled you.

His head cocked to the side in confusion seeing you bag, “Hon, what’re you doing?” He squatted so he was eye level with you.

“To my mom’s.” You turned back to your packing doing your best to ignore the confused man who really shouldn’t be giving you the look he was, or you were going to snap. How could he not have a clue?

He knew he had messed up when you shrugged off his touch, “Why would you do that? We have to eat the dinner you made.”

You shook your head, “It’s cold Bradley.”

He scrunched his nose looking over at you, “I can warm it up hon.” He tried to offer a simple solution to the scowl you were giving off to him.

“That’s not the point.” You were biting your tongue and even he knew that. He wasn’t that clueless, and you knew that.

“I’m sorry I was late… time just got away from us…” He paused seeing you weren’t listening to him. You were going to snap, and you knew it. Why was he out if he knew he was supposed to be home tonight? Why didn’t he seem to care about you?

You looked at him with a sadness he had missed so many times before, “I asked you for one thing Bradley. I’ve asked you for one thing for weeks. I just wanted a night with you.”

He frowned immediately, “I’m so sorry honey. This mission has just been hell. I didn’t want to take it out on you…”

“Then why wouldn’t you just tell me that?” You turned to him, standing now. You were irritated. Tired of second guessing yourself, “I’ve been seemingly by myself for the last four weeks Bradley! Do you know how fucking lonely that is? Do you know how I’ve been rattling my damn brain to try and figure out what the hell was going on with you? Did I do something? I’m tired. I’m going to my mom’s. Now move.” He had stood as you ranted at his inaction. He’d never seen you so agitated and heated. You were his calm and collected girl. He really must’ve done a number on you without even realizing it.

“Baby I’m…” You were in no state to hear him out. You’d made up your mind and that was that.

“I followed you across the country.” You let a tear roll down your cheek, “I thought we’d be happy here. My mom lives here. It’s been nothing short of miserable.” You tried moving around him, but he kept stepping in front of you.

“Move Bradley.” You felt that similar irritation bubble up once more.

He shook his head, “Afraid I can’t honey.”

Letting out a breath of frustration you felt the tears welling up once more, “Move!” You yelled at him when he blocked you once more.

“I’m not letting you drive like this Y/N.” He spoke calm and steady now trying his best to reach you in your distressed state.

“Then leave me alone.” You huffed pushing on his chest trying your best to push him out of the room.

“No, let’s talk about this.”

You let out the sob you’d been holding back before exploding on him. You’d really tried your hardest, but you were tired, and it was hurting you to look at him, “I can’t keep being your second choice, not when you’re my first!” You knew it’d hurt him and that’s exactly what you were aiming for, as much pain as you could inflict. Sure, it was childish. But you finally got your point across.

“Baby no.” He shook his head, “That’s not true. Please don’t say that. Please.” He took a step towards you. But you took a step back. He got the hint and let you be.

“You keep saying things but it’s like you can’t stand me anymore Bradley! I don’t know what I’ve done.” You backed up and sat down on your shared mattress. Leaning down you let your head fall into your hands as you finally let yourself cry it out. You finally let all the emotions you’d been holding back come out fully. You’d been making yourself feel crazy and he hadn’t even had a clue anything was wrong.

You felt his hand on your back as he sat down next to you. The felt the dip of the mattress as he did so. This time you didn’t shrug him off or run away. He wasn’t going to let you. He knew your automatic reaction was to run and hide and deal with it on your own. He promised you he wouldn’t let that happen anymore. He was going to be there for you. In whatever capacity you needed. And now you needed to talk for you’d been keeping it in. Bradley wasn’t clueless but he also wasn’t a mind reader. He never ever dreamed of hurting you. His favorite girl. His favorite human. His very best friend. His heart ached as your body wracked and sobbed. He never wanted to see you cry let alone be the reason for the salty tears.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry I haven’t been around to even notice this. Work has been… tough. I’m not supposed to tell you this but we’re being tasked with a pretty dangerous mission. One that somebody may not come back from. I don’t want to tell you this to freak you out but I’ve been worried. I have to come home to you. I am making sure of that. And I’ve done that by neglecting you. Please, you have to believe me. We’re not out drinking. We’re prepping, strategizing. Trying to figure how in the hell we’re all coming home.” His voice trailed off as your red eyes and cheeks turned up to him in disbelief.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Your voice was horse from the crying you’d allowed of yourself.

“It’s classified.” He answered quickly, “I can’t risk getting you in trouble honey. But I should’ve warned you. I’m so sorry.”

You nodded contemplating his words. You knew he was being nothing but sincere and it was you who was overreacting. A flush of embarrassment rose from your chest as you realized it was a big miscommunication between the two of you. It was odd because you were usually so in sync, but you brushed it off.

“I am too. I’m sorry I overreacted.”

He took your chin in his hands, “You didn’t. You’re just reacting because you care. I’m sorry I pushed you away. You have to know you’re never my second choice. Everything I do is for you. Sometimes I lose sight of it thought.” He smiled sheepishly as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. You shuddered over his gentle touch.

“I don’t deserve you.” You mumbled letting your eyes close under his gentle gaze.

He hummed brushing his hands along your lips, “I disagree.”

Your eyes opened to look right into his once more. Even after all this time your heart still hammered in your chest when he looked at you like that, “I love you.”

That smile was one you always adored seeing on him, “And I love you my favorite girl.” He kissed your other cheek this time, “I’m sorry I ignored your asks. It won’t happen again.” He smirked right on over at you. Gosh, he really couldn’t believe he was about to let you slip away without even realizing it. He really needed to pull back at work every now and then. He should’ve known you were too kind to complain about him always being gone. He’d ignored your requests for time alone taking you for granted. You’d used your words like he’d asked, and he still managed to mess it up.

“It’s okay.” You nuzzled your head into his hand enjoying his comfort after being apart for so long. Sure he had been here, but he wasn’t really present.

He shook his head, “It’s really not. I’m lucky to have you honey.” He kissed your forehead slowly. Letting his lips linger as he pulled you into his lap, “I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you.” You let your hands trace along his face smiling brightly as he looked down at you.

He let out a long sigh letting himself just hold you in his arms, “My treasure.” He whispered before finally meeting

You giggled more to yourself when your lips parted, “You’re so cheesy Bradley Bradshaw.”

He nodded giving your side a squeeze, “And you love it.”

You let yourself melt into him feeling all the tension release from your body, “That I do.”

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem

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chuuyascumsock · 8 months

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Well This Is Just Slut-tastic || Minors DNI

Summary: Hey guys, here’s the sexless virgin back again to write about something they have no clue about but acts like she does.

Tags: Female! Chuuya Nakahara/Reader, Afab reader, LESBIANS LESBIANS LESBIANS, Gay As Hell Sex, I’ve Never Had Sex, Help What Is Sex, Power Imbalance (You’re Her Subordinate), Petnames (Baby, Doll, Princess, Pretty Girl, etc.), Thigh Riding, Cunnilingus (momentarily tbh), Sucking Titties Because I Love Titties IRL, Uhhhh And A Side Of Scissoring, Classic Lesbian W.

Chuuya wasn’t used to being invited to out-of-work events by her co-workers. She couldn’t count how many times she’s seen the same uncomfortable look that’s crossed people’s faces when she walked by or even happened to be in their presence. Like they were scared of her. Being one of the executives came with its title which skewed every individual’s image every time it was brought to light about how much power she held. And it got lonely.

Until you showed up.

“Do you wanna come over for a girl’s night and sleepover at my place?”

At first, Chuuya had thought of you to be obnoxious with your kind compliments and gentle eyes– thinking of it to be a complete facade– much like how Dazai wears a mask to keep others from getting too close. But as you were placed under her as her subordinate by Mori, she came to see that there were no hidden motives or facade. You were the most genuine person she had ever come across. She’d be lying if your compliments didn’t stick with her and leave her blushing with her heart pounding in her chest. Especially when you told her how pretty you thought she looked.

“We can watch The Girl and Her Dog,” You add, watching the taken aback look on Chuuya’s face diminish into a spark of excitement in her eyes.

“Really?”

You nod, jutting your bottom lip out slightly, “So can you? Pleeease, Chuuya?”

Chuuya always wondered how you managed to get away with calling her by her first name so casually like you had known each other for years. It’s not like she did much about it anyways— a small part of her enjoyed the way her name rolled off your tongue. It felt… Intimate. Something she didn’t experience much with any of her other co-workers.

“Fine,” She sighs in defeat. Though it seems unprofessional to do things like this with her subordinate— what’s the harm?

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Fuck, did you have to keep it so cold in your apartment?

From the moment Chuuya stepped into your home, she’s been shivering nonstop. When asked about why it was so cold, you just tilted your head with an innocent smile, “Is it? I haven’t noticed.” How could you not feel it? Being in a tight tank top and skimpy shorts— you must’ve been lying.

If it wasn’t for Chuuya’s thick long-sleeved shirt, it was safe to say that her hard nippes would’ve made an appearance through a thinner fabric, just like your siff peaks through the tank top her eyes linger on. But she keeps her mouth shut, refusing to complain or comment about the temperature any longer after you’ve been so kind to her by offering a blanket (it didn’t help much).

You're as perceptive as ever though.

You watch her body tremble under the blanket occasionally— her eyes glued to the TV as she attempts to keep her mind off the cold. “If you want, we can cuddle. I don’t have anymore backup blankets,” You giggle.

Chuuya nearly immediately accepts, but then hesitates with a mixed expression on her face, “Isn’t that weird?”

“Why would it be weird? It’s only weird if you make it weird,” You turn your head back to face the TV.

She sits there, contemplating for a good minute before slowly shuffling over next to you until your shoulders pressed against one another. “Just don’t tell anyone about this,” Chuuya huffs, leaning into your surprisingly warm body. It takes everything in her to not react when you shift your body to wrap your arms around one of hers and hug her arm into your plush tits. A vivid blush crosses her face, fortunately barely visible due to the darkness engulfing the room.

“I won’t.”

Chuuya feels your eyes linger on her stiff posture before you relax against her body and rest your head on her shoulder. She’s stopped shivering, but at the cost of thinking about how your cute, perky nipples would feel with her lips wrapped around them.

It doesn’t get any better as the night continues and you tell her that you won’t stand for her sleeping on your uncomfortable couch.

You roll over to face Chuuya in your bed— eyes blurring in the dark for a few moments before you get a clear outline of her face. “Are you alright, Chuuya?” Your voice is soft, as well as your touch, your hand reaching to tuck a piece of her bangs away from her eyes.

Chuuya shivers at how your fingertips ghost over her skin, “I’m fine, why?” The subtle tremble in her voice betrays her reassurance, her thighs shifting under the covers to rub together from your electric touch and the cold.

Your eyes flicker over her face before you near her, your noses a few inches away, “Are you sure? You’re shivering again— we can always cuddle like earlier, I don’t mind.”

Or you could turn the AC down.

Groaning, Chuuya gives in once more to your warmth and sinks into your arms when you pull her close. “Can’t you turn the AC down?” She speaks her mind, only to be shut down quickly.

“Sorry, don’t know where it is, so I can’t change it,” What a lousy excuse and a lie, but Chuuya doesn’t comment or point it out— too distracted by the way her chest presses against yours.

Suddenly, there’s no space between either of you and everything begins to feel all too hot and sensitive.

With such little personal space, it wasn’t much of a surprise that Chuuya’s mind began to wander. Thoughts of what would happen if the distance between your lips closed and she could have her way with you evaded her, only adding to the heat.

“For someone who says she’s cold, you feel very warm right now, Chuuya,” You point out with a small smile, yet don’t make any attempts to move away.

Chuuya shivers when you shift just barely, your breasts sliding against hers as you adjust your position. With your noses now touching, she’s sure that she isn’t just imagining things. “Shut up…” She whispers.

Your eyes bore into her and she feels like she could just melt under your gaze. “You know, I meant what I said every time I said you looked absolutely beautiful and any guy would be lucky to have you,” You murmur softly.

Chuuya feels her heart skip a beat, but at the same time— a small bit of irritation nips at Chuuya when you mention her being with men. Was it not obvious enough that she wasn’t interested in them? “I don’t like men.”

“Oh…” To anyone else, it would’ve sounded like you were surprised, yet Chuuya could tell that it was something else, “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

There’s a small huff from Chuuya, “No, but I am annoyed that you still refuse to make a move even after telling you I don’t have an interest in men.”

“I was just trying to be cordial,” You respond quietly.

“I think we crossed that line hours ago,” She mutters before closing the gap between the both of you to press her lips against yours.

It’s firm and straight to the point, it almost feels like she’s still trying to be professional, even when she’s kissing. And it makes you giggle against her lips.

She pulls away with a quiet growl, “What’re you giggling at?”

“It’s just that your kisses fit you.”

“What’s wrong with the way I kiss?” Her brows furrow.

You move your arms away from around her waist before cupping her cheeks, “Nothing, I just thought it was cute. You don’t have to be so stiff, though.”

“Whatever,” She grumbles before you pull her into another kiss, this time much softer as she relaxes.

Chuuya’s hand falls to grab at your hip, pulling you closer to hook one of your legs over her own hip. You shiver as she rubs her hand along the expansion of your outer thigh, teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

When you part your lips, she’s eager to angle her head and deepen the kiss, her tongue invading your mouth as she moves her hand from your thigh to your ass. Her hand squeezes the fat of your ass momentarily, earning a muffled moan against her mouth and your hips jerking into her thigh between your legs.

Chuuya’s lips part from yours and she pants out, her warm breath hovering over your lips, “Have I ever told you that I think you’re fucking hot?” When you shake your head in a small ‘no’, she grips her fingers further into your fat to grind your clothed crotch over her thigh again. “Well you are— n’you make me so fuckin’ wet, baby.” She groans, moving to entangle her tongue with yours again.

The kiss grows sloppy and wet as your lips smack together loudly, a sheen of spit coating both of your lips, her hands not giving away at forcing your hips down against her muscled thigh. You begin to grind down on her thigh, small noises escaping the back of your throat as you feel the pressure rub against your clit through your clothes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” You heave out when pulling away from the messy kiss.

“Yeah? You want me?” She moves her kisses along your jaw and down your throat. She’s given a quick nod from you in return which makes her grin, “I want you too, pretty girl.” Her teeth sink into the skin of your neck softly before she sucks at the spot, leaving a noticeable hickey above the base of your neck.

“Please… Wanna see you,” You plead, tugging at her long sleeved shirt, wanting it off.

Chuuya obliges and fumbles to take it off with how close the two of you are. She tosses her shirt away somewhere in your room and it, revealing her small, pert tits.

“They’re so pretty,” You mumble, hands trailing to run overly flatly against her chest.

“H-Hey, I can’t be the only one taking stuff off,” She shudders at your touch, her own hands coming to tug at your tank top to pull it off. Both topless and bare, you shiver, noticing just how cold your apartment really was, “Told you it was fuckin’ cold.” Her hands grab at your ass to pull you up further, her face now level with your breasts.

Your lips part into a moan when she takes one of your nipples into her mouth, rolling the hard bud between her tongue and teeth. “F-Fuck— yeah— well I was fine with it before cause it got you close to me,” One of your hands come up to thread into her soft locks as she sucks at your nipple. She takes the other nipple between two of her fingers to rub and play with as she hums against your skin.

“So you made it cold just so you could be close with me, hm? God, you just get cuter and cuter, baby,” Her words vibrate against your skin before she pulls away from your nipple with a quiet ‘pop’ and moves to the other one to suck on.

“A-Ah, Chuuya, that hurts,” You whine as she roughly pinches your nipples between her teeth and fingers.

“Yeah, well you don’t get to complain after I froze my ass off f’you instead of going home like I would’ve usually done,” She moves away from your chest to litter your sternum with love bites.

A pout settles over your lips as you tug at her hair, “I wanna have fun with you too, s’not fair that you get to do whatever.”

She puffs her cheeks out slightly, “You’re so impatient, you know that? Bet you’re wet,” She continues to kiss and nip at your skin, a hand reaching down to snap the waistband of your shorts against your hip.

“You’re one to talk— I bet you’re soaking,” You want to reach down to her own shorts, but she has you positioned in a way you can’t reach them, “This isn’t fair.”

“Really? I disagree,” She grins, maneuvering the both of you until you’re lying on your back and she’s hovering over you. Her hands quickly come to tug at the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pulling them off with ease as you lift your hips to help her. “Fuck, spread those legs for me, doll— wanna see that cute pussy of yours.”

It’s embarrassing, but you can’t help but open your legs at her demand to reveal your wet folds glistening with arousal. Her stare burns into your skin, making you squirm under her, “No more— I want to feel you, Chuu.”

Chuuya waves you off as she huffs through her nose, hands holding your thighs apart as she lowers her face down, “After I get a taste— then you can have me all you want, princess. But I need this,” She insists, tongue lolling out to lick a strip up through your puffy folds to collect your taste on her tongue. “You taste so good, y’know that, baby?” She buries her face back between your thighs to press wet kisses against your sopping pussy, uncaring of how messy they were.

Your thighs clamp around her head, fingers threading tightly into her hair as you needily rut your hips against her mouth, “Mm, feels good— but I really want you, Chuu. Please? A-Ah… Wanna feel your pussy on mine.” You whine.

Chuuya groans against you, the vibrations against your clit making you shiver and buck your hips against her before she sits up, “Fine, but next time, you better let me have a proper taste.”

“Promise, okay? But please— just need you s’bad,” You watch her with an impatient stare as she strips herself of her shorts and underwear, leaving her bare for you to see.

“Love how needy you are f’me, baby,” She sighs out as she fits herself between your legs, one of hers straddling over one of your legs to rest by your hip and the other resting near your ass. She grabs the latter leg and holds your leg against her chest for stability and leverage.

You can’t see much from the angle you’re at, but you can feel how wet she is when she lowers her pussy to come flush with you. And it makes you shudder feeling her slick leak from her soft pussy onto yours. “Oh my god…” Your head falls back onto the pillow when she moves her hand hand between the both of you to spread your sticky folds apart for her slippery cunt to slide across yours until her clit bumps yours.

“Fuck, I can feel you throbbing against me,” Chuuya gasps, pressing down against you harder. “Can’t believe you’re getting off on rubbing pussies with your superior, naughty girl,” She growls out, hand tightening around your leg.

You reach a hand out to fondle one of her perky tits as you try your best to rut your hips back against hers in rhythm, “Can’t help it, you’re s’pretty, Chuu.”

Chuuya moans, her chest arching into your hand as she grinds harder against your pussy, the arousal between you both creating a lewd schlicking noise with each time she moves her hips. “I think you’re pretty too, baby. The prettiest— fuck— the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your soft groans and moans fall into desperate whimpers as your hand plays with her sensitive nipples and her grinding turns into bucking her hips roughly against yours erratically. “M’gonna come— Chuu, your pussy feels so good.”

“Yeah? Wanna feel you come all over my pussy, pretty,” She hunches over to smash her lips against yours, her hips animalistically rutting along with you— desperate to feel your nubby clit rub against hers again.

Jolts of pleasure shoot down your spine as the new angle of her hips and her tongue violating your mouth sends you over the edge. Your toes curl and thighs quake as your lips tremble against hers in the hazy kiss, your cum leaking from your clenching hole to join the slick between your legs.

Chuuya isn’t far behind as her hips falter and slow to long and tedious movements to ride out her own orgasm. You both pant against each other with open-mouths, pulling away just enough to look at the mess between the both of you.

Both of your pussies glisten with cum, threads of arousal connecting each other before Chuuya pulls away completely. “God, you’re so good,” She whispers as she places a soft kiss to your lips before you both untangle your limbs from one another to lie down and cuddle under the covers.

You bury your face into the crook of her neck, “Do you think I should turn the AC off?”

“Yeah— I wasn’t going to say anything, but I’m still really fucking cold.”

#chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #devious dambi smuts

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misserabella · 1 year

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eugene’s secret

ellie williams x f! reader

summary; basically the scene in tlou II where ellie comes across eugene’s stash but with changes and additions!

cw; weed, smoking, cursing, tension, sexual thoughts and action, 18+ content, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, kissing, making out, the knee thing, thigh riding, teasing, dom! ellie and sub! reader, ellie being a little mean, praising, hickeys, nipple play, overstimulation, finger fucking, scissoring, getting caught!!…

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

“What’s he got down here?” you said as you close the door behind your back, stairs to your right.

“It’s obviously a sex den.” Ellie joked, and you playfully pushed her with your shoulder. She smiled as he gave you an amused look. “That’s why he didn’t tell you about it.” you two started to go down the stairs, her auburn hair swaying with her steps. She looked exceptionally pretty today, with her hair on a low bun and her green jacket.

“I hope it’s a sex den, for his sake. He was so lonely man…” you laughed, and she shook her head.

When you reach the basement, you two found the double doors to your right and slowly opened them up, the strong smell of the plants residing down there hitting you on the nose.

“Oh… oh my god… It’s weed.” Ellis said, shocked as you two entered the room, illuminated by lightbulbs.

“It’s a lot of dead weed.” you nod, looking around. “This explains a lot…” you mutter, watching her take a piece of the weed in between her hands.

“Maria would lose her shit if she saw this place.” Ellie said, smelling the weed.

“How the fuck did he get this together?” you were astonished by the amount of them that stood on tables under the growing lights.

“Must’ve taken him forever.” your friend muttered as she let the weed fall to the floor, her hands now feeling sticky.

“I wish he had told me about this, man. It’s been ages since I’ve smoked. Could’ve helped him out…” you whined, following her.

“Hey!” Ellie called out for you and you looked at her, seeing the videotape she was holding on her hand. “He’s got that videotape thing.”

“Huh. Let’s see what he’s got.” you scoffed, bending just the slightest to get a hold on the rest. “ ‘Dong of the Wolf’, ‘Smash Brandi’s Cooch’…” you read their titles and Ellie frowneds.

“Are these…”

“It’s porn.” you confirmed and she laughed.

“Interesting taste, Eugene…”

You two moved on until something caught her attention.

“y/n. Look. It’s a gas mask bong.” she said while walking towards you for you to see.

You sigh. “God, he was so smart…” you whine and take it from her hands, putting it on. “How do I look, huh?” you inquired her with a silly smile that she couldn’t see as you posed for her.

“Well… It certainly is a look.” she shrugged and you frowned, taking it off and putting it back where she had found it.

“Rude…”

“Oh, shut up. You love it.” she said as she walked away, unable to see just how hard you rolled your eyes behind her back. “Ah…” she mumbled as she took a glass jar from the tables.

“Oh…” you came closer, eyes in the jar. “There you go.” you smiled, taking it and inspecting it. “Jackpot.”

“You think it’s still good?” Ellie questions, and you shrug.

“Mmm-mm. Let’s find out.” you said as you tried opening it. You groaned when it wouldn’t, bending over yourself to push the lid harder.

“You having a hard time?” she inquired you as she unbuttoned her jacket, after having left her backpack on the floor. She seemed amused by your struggling.

“No, I got it.” you promised, but the lid wouldn’t fucking budge. “Fuck.” you said and her hands were ready to take it.

“Give me.”

“Oh yeah, like you’re going to get it.” you rolled your eyes just as she rolled up her sleeves. And then, with a quick and harsh motion of her wrist, the lid popped open. “You bitch.” you said, shocked and at the same time hurt. Your pride was hurt.

“You were saying…?” she cockily asks and you push her on the chest, trying to ignore just how good her hands were looking and how their veins were visible. Shit.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” you huffed, taking one of the perfectly rolled blunts in between your fingers and smelling it. She put the jar back on the table. You smelled it, smiling. “Smells good.” you handed it to her so she could do the same, but instead, she looked at you and slowly pulled it up to her plush lips, taking it on her mouth.

You stared as she sat down on the couch. “I mean… We’re gonna be stuck her a while, right?” she shrugged and you squinted your eyes with a little smile. Oh you knew where this was going…

You shook your head, amused, and sat down beside her, your back against the side of the sofa, legs to your chest. “Totally trapped…” You looked at her as she lit it and took a drag, closing her eyes when her throat burned. Her side profile was beautiful, with her perfect nose and long eyelashes, reddish cheeks decorated with freckles…

You wanted nothing more than inhale back in the smoke she was letting out her lungs.

You accepted the blunt when she offered it to you, taking a hit and smiling as you threw your head backwards. “Shit. That’s good.” she let out a chuckled watching you, leaning backwards against the sofa with her legs spread, perfectly exposing her firm thighs. Oh what you’d do to be able to sit on them…

You two shared the joint in between a little chatting, taking in the peace of the place and just how comfortable you were around each other despite last night’s events.

You were high out of your mind when she talked once again. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I don’t know, can you?” you eyes, reddish and half-lidded squinted at her, an amused smile decorating your face.

She shook her head with the same smile before going back to you and moving to face you just the slightest. “Scale of one to ten…” she started and you offered her the blunt. “One being like absolute trash, and ten being life-altering… How would you rate our kiss last night?” she inquired, now fully facing you and taking a hit.

You felt warmth crept up your cheeks, your heart pounding faster inside your chest. You scratched nervously your neck. “Why are we still talking about this?” you asked, taking the blunt and taking a drag. “You said it was a mistake.”

“Did I say that?” Ellie frowned, looking at you, raising her eyebrows, not truly believing it.

You leaned in, looking at her with those beautiful eyes of yours, your legs now one against the other and bended to look at her. “What are you doing?”

“I asked you to rate our kiss.” she repeated while stealing the blunt, her eyes flickering just the slightest to your lips.

“I don’t know…” you shrugged, looking at your lap and away from her green eyes.

“I’d give it a six.” she said after having thought it through.

“A six?!” you inquire, astonished, taking the blunt and smoking a little bit more. “Wow…” you nodded as you exhaled the smoke.

“Like a solid six.” she continued.

“Okay.” Ouch.

“There were a lot of people around.” she clarifies and you look at her.

“Yeah, but, six?”

“Oh, what?” she takes the blunt. “I mean, now I really want to know how you’d rate it.” she said and you looked away.

“I don’t think you do.” you mumbled, and once you looked back and found her smirking. Cocky. “You’re infuriating.” you groaned.

“Have you met you?” she contra-attacked, sarcastic. She was getting closer.

“You make me want to go back outside into that blizzard.” you said, and she smiled, leaning so close you almost lost your breath, her eyes on yours.

“No one is stopping you.” she whispered, and that made you look at her lips. They looked so fucking soft. And for what you knew, they felt just as they looked. She smiled, looking at your dazed face and down at your lips, dampening her own and watching you bit your lower one.

“This better be better than a six.” you whispered and she smiled, flicking and throwing away the remains of the blunt to harshly grab your face and bring you towards her lips. You let out a gasp at the contact, at the intensity. She was kissing you so passionately you felt like melting in between her arms.

She bit down on your lip and you let out a moan that allowed her to push her tongue inside your mouth, humming. Your tongue met hers and after a few seconds she pulled away to look at your eyes before leaning back in once again. You smiled against her lips, her hands leaving your face to grab at your hips and push you back onto the sofa, climbing on top of you. The kiss was heated, not like last night’s. Was needy, was perfect.

Your fingers found her hair and pulled, making her moan in your mouth. She breathed against your lips with her eyes closed as she pulled back and you smiled, raising your eyebrows when her reddish eyes found yours. “Better than a six, huh?” you cockily inquired her and she groaned.

“Shut up.” and she really made you shut up, ‘cause her lips were back on yours. She sucked on your bottom lip, making you whine, before starting to kiss down your jaw and neck, sucking on your skin and making you tug harder on her hair.

“Ah, shit, Ellie. It hurts.” you said as she latched to your neck, biting and licking the marks she’d leave behind to help with the sting. But you really weren’t paying attention to the pain, since now her hands were unzipping your jacket.

“It hurts, baby?” she sarcastically pouted, before you could come back with a smart answer, her leg pushing in between your thighs and against your cunt.

“Fuck.” you moaned when she bucked your hips against her thigh, making you ride it, your jeans pressing against your clit from above your underwear.

“That’s it. Ride my thigh, baby.” she smirked against your chest when you started to press yourself against her harder. You helped her rip off your shirt, leaving you naked from your waist up. “Fuck. No bra?” she inquired, and you moaned when one of her hands grasped your right tit. “You’re so fucking pretty…” she muttered against your skin before her lips latched to your left breast, sucking on your nipple, her index and thumb pinched the other, overstimulating you and making you whine.

“Ellie…” you sighed her name, taking the hand that was on your waist and pulling from it to push it against and between your thighs. “Please, touch me, please…”

“Shit.” she cursed, quickly getting rid of the button of your jeans and throwing them aside after having dragged them down your legs, leaving you solely on your underwear for her to see. “So fucking beautiful…” she whispered, taking off her own shirt and bra before pulling herself closer and on top of you one more time. You moaned when her fingers pushed against your panties, playing with your clit over them. You were so sensitive due to the weed that you felt like crying.

She kissed you as her hand pushed your underwear to the side, letting your glistening cunt made contact with the cold air of the basement. “Oh god…” your head got thrown backwards when she finally touched you, her fingertips glistening with your arousal and sliding so easily in between your lips.

“ ‘S that for me?” she inquired, her head dizzy with the feeling of just how wet you were for her, how pretty you looked under her body, with her fingers on your cunt.

You nodded, whimpering when her middle finger started to circle your clit, electricity cursing through your veins.

“Use your words for me, pretty girl. I want to hear you.” she said, kissing your neck, and you moaned when she plugged her middle finger inside, your walls tightening around it and sucking it in.

“Yes, yes, Ellie. ‘S for you, only for you.” you breathed out, feeling as she started to fuck it in and out of you, the dirty sounds your pussy was making while taking her finger filling the room and making your cheeks burn.

“Atta girl, taking it so good. Listen to her, she’s so wet and ready for me…” she sucked on your nipples and you threaded your fingers on her hair, arching your back when she curled her finger and found that spongy spot inside of you that made your skin burn and your thighs shook. “There it is.” she smiled, curling it again, and again, and again… Until you were a moaning mess underneath her. You were so lost on the pleasure, so needy for her…

“Please Ellie, please, fuck, fuck me, fuck me please…” you begged.

“Such a good girl, asking for it so nicely… You want me to fuck you baby? Leave you all pretty and fucked out?” you nod, and she chuckles when you start to undo her jeans. “Needy, are we?” she teased and you whined.

“Please, Ellie…” she gave in, ‘cause truth be told, she needed you just as badly as you needed her. She got rid of your and her underwear, kneeling in front of you. She was perfect. Perfect with everything he would had on, and off.

She straddled one of your thighs so her glistening cunt would be pressed against yours. You two let out a moan at the contact.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, Ellie…” you cried out as she started to move, your clits pressing against the other and making you whimper.

“Shit, you feel so good…” she moaned, taking your hips to grind against you harder, your juices mixing with each other’s as your pussies slides one against the other.

“Please don’t stop.” you begged, kissing her, grasping at her back and clawing at her skin, already over the edge due to her previous toying and teasing.

“I won’t, baby, I won’t. Are you close, hm? Are you gonna come for me?” you nodded, a whimper leaving your lips.

“Yes, yes, fuck.” tears were brimming your eyes, the pleasure was too strong. Her hands felt like pure fire against your skin.

“That’s it, good girl. Cum for me, baby. Wanna see you fall apart.” and with that your back arched, your walls clenching down on nothing and pulsing as you gushed against her cunt and moaned over and over again, each time louder as you reached your peak. “Fuck.” she muttered, watching as you came undone, fucking you and herself through it until she too was falling over the edge and on top of you, moaning and groaning against your neck.

The two of you were breathing heavily, bodies sticky with sweat and glued together. You could feel her quickened heartbeat. She left soft fluttery kisses against your neck and up your cheek towards your lips, where she left a sweet peck.

“Then… Better than a six?” you inquired her and she hit you on the shoulder, making you laugh and making her follow you.

“You’re so stupid.” she shook her head, and you kissed her.

“Oh, shut up, you love it.” you whispered against her lips before she’d lean in and kiss you again. Hands on your hips, his thumb drawing circles on your skin. And just as her tongue entered your mouth, you heard someone screaming your names.

“Ellie? y/n?! Are you two down there?” you pulled apart and looked at each other with eyes widened and faces that clearly said: fuck, Jesse.

You two quickly got up, staggering to get your clothes aback on. You pulled on your underwear and pants, reaching for your shirt as you screamed back.

“Yeah! We’re here! But… Don’t come down! Stay there!”

“Oh fuck.” Ellie said as she fought to put on her sports bra. And if you weren’t about to get caught post-sex, you would have stopped to stare at her smushed tits.

“What the hell are you two doing down… Oh my god!” Jesse screamed and looked away when he caught a glimpse of your naked back and Ellie’s naked legs.

“Fuck, Jesse!” you screamed at him.

“I’m sorry, shit. I didn’t know you two… Fuck.”

“Just shut up, and turn around, oh my god!” he did what you asked so you two could finish dressing up, although Ellie was having a little too much fun kissing your neck instead of helping you put your shirt on.

a/n; fun fact, i dreamed about ellie after smoking last night and now i can’t get her out of my head.😭

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starrysnowdrop · 11 months

Text

Aymeric de Borel Headcanons

This is a list of the important headcanons that I personally hold for Aymeric and I have these in mind as I write him in my fics. I am not entirely certain how “popular” of an interpretation that I have of him, and quite frankly, I’m not here to have the “popular” interpretation, or to say that this is the “right” one either. This is simply how I have always seen him and I felt the need to share with you all.

If you hold a different view of Aymeric than myself, feel free to share your thoughts with me, but please be respectful of my views and those of others that you might see in the replies. I was inspired to write this post up because of @miqomischief, so thank you for sharing your thoughts!! Now, onto the headcanons!

Content warning: discussion of sensitive and potentially triggering topics, such as religious trauma, violence, and torture. Will also include discussion of mental health issues, such as clinical depression and PTSD. Under the cut below:

First, I must start with Aymeric’s birth. As of now in canon, we have zero knowledge about Aymeric’s mother, even the lorebooks have nothing to say about her. It also seems as though he was adopted right after he was born by the Borels. That all being said, it’s highly likely that Aymeric’s mother was a lowborn woman who either died in childbirth, or heaven forbid, Thordan and/or the church might’ve had her killed and the chirurgeons were able to save her baby but not her.

Either way, it must be hard on Aymeric to finally have the confirmation of who his birth father was, and must deal with everything his father had done, but still don’t know about his birth mother. I wonder if later on he will try to investigate the mystery and find out the truth about his mother. If we never get the canon account, I might expand on this in the future and come up with something myself.

I imagine the Borels were incredibly loving parents, always loving and treating Aymeric as their own child, and he never questioned how much his adoptive parents loved him. And yet they couldn’t shelter Aymeric from the constant bullying by other children about the rumors of him being the Archbishop’s bastard son.

Though I like to think that Aymeric got his insanely good looks from his mother, it’s still very noticeable that Thordan is his father, especially in the scene where Aymeric confronts Thordan, as Aymeric’s ice blue eyes are the same as Thordan’s. So even though Aymeric couldn’t prove his true lineage until that moment, everyone around him whispered that he was a bastard of the Archbishop, and he was scorned for this his whole life.

Because of this, Aymeric has struggled with his self-esteem, and he never had that many close friends. I imagine that outside of his family and their few servants whom the Borels treated like their family, Aymeric must’ve been pretty lonely, especially with finding friends his own age.

Another pressure on him was the fact that his loving adoptive parents, the only parents he has ever known, were elderly, and they would pass away long before others’ parents would. He would have to face adulthood and find his own place in the world without them, and that must’ve been devastating for him when they did pass away.

I assume that the Borels both died long before we meet Aymeric in the MSQ, so I think that it must’ve happened after Aymeric comes of age and joins the Temple Knights. This is because Aymeric is still using the bow and arrow when he meets Estinien in the short story Through Fire and Blood, but he was gifted Naegling, the Borel family sword, obviously before we meet him. So, sometime between the events of the short story and when Aymeric is promoted to Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, is likely when the Borels died.

I imagine that Aymeric joins the Temple Knights for multiple reasons, one being the obvious one of him wanting to protect his homeland and the Ishgardian people, but I think that he also wants to be included in something larger than himself, something that he will feel included, where he can be recognized and respected. The Temple Knights are where he can rise through the ranks and gain a better reputation, and not just be known for his suspected parentage.

I think that Aymeric did want the position of Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, as he had finally found a place where he felt he belonged; he would also be able to make a difference in the war effort and bring about change in Ishgard. But he had no plans on being the Lord Speaker of the House of Lords, and had to be talked into it, as is suggested in the ending scenes of Heavensward.

Stemming from the bullying in his childhood, as I mentioned before, I believe Aymeric has several mental health issues, including low self-esteem and bouts of self-loathing, clinical depression, and more recently PTSD due to the effects of the Dragonsong War, his time imprisoned in the Vault when he was tortured, and then his attempted assassination.

Though all of us Aymeric fans love to gush about how insanely gorgeous the man is, I doubt that Aymeric himself feels that he is that physically attractive. Perhaps he is aware that others find him attractive, but he probably thinks it’s due to his pretty face and nothing else.

Why is this? Well, I have always imagined that Aymeric has many scars on his body, from not only his years of fighting on the battlefield, but also the torture he endured while imprisoned in the Vault, and he also has a large stab wound from the attempted assassination. I think he must have marks around his neck, wrists, and ankles from being shackled, and potentially many cuts and burns all over his torso, especially if someone like Charibert was the one who was torturing him for information. I don’t believe Aymeric is going to find his body attractive after all of this has happened to him.

Without going into too much detail about the torture, Aymeric was imprisoned and Thordan had told the Heavens’ Ward to “question him thoroughly”. Then we see Aymeric limping as he attempts to talk Thordan out of his plans. He clearly has suffered physically and mentally due to his imprisonment. As Aymeric himself says, “Some scars do not heal.” That’s all the evidence we have of what happened in the Vault from the MSQ, and the rest I have inferred from reading about Charibert’s background.

Another factor that has affected Aymeric greatly is the Ishgardian Orthodox Church, and it’s strict teachings. The religious trauma he has experienced just adds another layer onto him trying to gain a better reputation for himself. In doing so, I surmise that Aymeric has made sure not to have any casual sexual relationships, as he would want to properly court a partner in accordance with Ishgardian tradition. On that note, I personally see Aymeric as demisexual/demiromantic and can be attracted to any gender.

To elaborate on my last point, I do not think Aymeric would ever have a casual sexual encounter. This is not only because of the church’s teachings that he would’ve grown up with, but because he is a bastard and has been shunned his whole life because of what his parents did, so I don’t think he would ever put himself in a position for such a situation to happen again, regardless of the gender of his partner. I think he would just take his time in getting to know someone and not jump into bed with someone without a serious commitment, and he would want to court a partner properly.

Overall, I think that Aymeric tries his best to make himself seem perfect, and though he truly is kind, compassionate, brave, and dutiful, that is certainly not an act, but I do think he is much less confident than he lets on. He is good at looking calm, collected, and seemingly put together. Aymeric has true leadership qualities that make him have the image of the perfect leader that Ishgard needs, but deep inside, I believe he is very hard on himself and doesn’t see himself how others do.

I also believe Aymeric is really lonely. He still seems to not have many friends, and he longs for companionship, which is evident when he asks after his friend Estinien and whenever he sees the Warrior of Light. He drops his Lord Commander mask and he genuinely smiles and even seems giddy when he’s around the Warrior of Light.

The dinner with Aymeric is also evidence that he wants more in his life than just his duty, as he seems to genuinely be interested in the Warrior of Light and their adventures—he is extremely happy if you invite him to come with you on an adventure sometime. No, Aymeric would never shirk his duty just to run away with the WoL, I can never see him ever doing such a thing. However, he clearly is lonely and some part of him likely wants to go adventuring when his duties as Lord Speaker are complete.

Overall, I do think Aymeric has the background and the qualities that could make him a great villain—savvy at politics, manipulating people to get them onto his side, persuading others to do as he bids, all of which he seems to do when he’s Lord Commander and Lord Speaker. But he only has good intentions, and he uses his abilities as a force for good in the world, and not for personal gain. And that is what makes all of the difference. He is a hero because he chooses to be, and he chooses to rise above the circumstances of his birth and what Thordan had wanted for him. That’s why Aymeric is a hero.

Well, that’s about it! Thank you very much for taking your time to read through all of this! Let me know if this lines up with what your headcanons for Aymeric are, if you wish to of course.

#ffxiv headcanons #ffxiv heavensward #aymeric de borel #ser aymeric #this took me much longer than expected #mainly because I can’t shut up about him #i love this man too much #anyway hope yall enjoy the read!

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maneaterss · 1 year

Text

-not so alone

you're the one, you're all i've ever wanted i think i'll regret this.

pairing: richarlison x insert

summary: richarlison and model reader after many years- have broken up up and during an event- richarlison is quick to support the reader.

cw: SO. MUCH. ANGST. fluff at the end for like two paragraphs.

a/n: this is the first idea that i've come up with since i started this account cause i've only done reqs oml. anyways sorry for going M.I.A and only writing angst... it be like that sometimes. this is kinda ass so sorry lolz. I CANT VIEW MY DMS OR READ OR RESPOND TO COMMENTS YALL IDK WHAT I DID.

also tysm for five hundred yall r cute asf w ur reqs mwah.

you felt confident- for the first time in months. your hair was blown out and fell long against your front, your dress embedded with rhinestones accentuated your favorite curves in your body, and your makeup only added to the newfound poise.

for the first time since the breakup you'd been able to feel some self worth. your friends and family had an idea of how hard the breakup- some of richarlisons family also reaching out to you. how else was a separation adorned with tears, screaming, and sobs supposed to go?

you stepped out of the car that led you to the event, you didn't anticipate this many paparazzi, or people. you didn't know what encouraged you to go to this event, in all honesty you accepted the offer because you'd been nominated to win. it was an award show for. a plethora of specialities, model of the year would be presented, actors, fashion, many things- but none of those categories could possibly have anything to connect to the one person you were avoiding, right?

questions were thrown at you, some about awards, some about if you thought you'd win, and few about a new boyfriend. the rest was tame until you'd gotten inside of the venue. instant camera flashes, another rough downpour of specific and critical questions- you'd taken such a long break from this and now making a big jump in was what you would observe as a horrible idea.

"y/n what kind of wins are you expecting this evening?"

"miss l/n who are you wearing?"

"what does your love life look like right now?'"

"what were the factors of you and richarlisons breakup?"

you body tensed at his name, you did your best to not give a reaction, to not feed into the weird obsession people had over your past relationship. "of course i'm expecting myself to take prize tonight, just like every other nominee who's equally deserving." you smiled and quickly moved on- you honestly prayed that was the end of his name tonight.

that was until an old colleague engulfed you before you could enter the seating area,

"god- im so sorry about richarlison y/n. it must've been horrible!" she squealed, arms impossibly tight around you.

you're face was straight until you pulled back, "it’s all okay f/n, thank you though."

lies. your eyebags covered with concealer would say otherwise, your empty nights and lonely days, the was you still had his tshirts in your closet, and the fact that his toothbrush was still in your apartment differed that fact completely. but the way of life didn't care for how much you'd loved each other or how much passion and time you shared because eventually his toothbrush would end up in the garbage on cleaning day, and his shirts would lose his signature smell, and you'd still wake up on your side of the bed alone.

your friend hugged you once more before escaping to find her designated spot and you lingered a moment more trying to find a familiar face to walk inside with until you heard that same hollow yet bouncy voice with an unfamiliar english accent.

your legs instinctively led you in the opposite direction of the voice, finding where your designated spot was. for half an hour you had insignificant conversations with the people sat around you- some you’ve spoken to before and others you never met but recognized from social media and whatnot.

at last the awards had begun, you sat idle- observing with the occasional clap or cheer when a name was announced. you’d completely zoned out about halfway through. completely having forgot you’d even been nominated- only thinking about the small laugh and greeting you’d heard from a sickening yet beautiful voice earlier and who it could’ve come from.

whilst you worried yourself over small happenings, whilst your fingernails dug into your palms with enough vigor to draw blood-

“y/n l/n” cheers erupted.

for a second your mine was ripped away from the painful mishaps of your devotion and instead your brain fixed on the fact that you had just won the award you’d lost sleep thinking about and praying to win for years on end, you thought about your family watching from home, your friends jumping up from their seats, and you’d gotten up from your own to walk onto the stage, portraits of you flashing on the screen behind you as you accepted the award.

you spoke of your thanks, of how greatful you’d been to accept this award and earn it, your heart soaring from the feeling of such an amazing win and lal you’d given up to be here, you’d felt on top of the world until your eyes made contact with those big brown ones in the back of the crowd, clapping as he stood. his frame was still tall- if not taller, slightly more muscular since the last time you’d seen him, his eyes were still deep like you remembered, his hair lighter, skin bronzer.

it felt you’d stared for an eternity until you walked off- only it was merely a few seconds. you’d forgotten your surroundings once more as you left the stage and sat down in your seat- everyone congratulating you on your way back as you smiled back- doing your best to push his image to the back of your head.

why did this affect you so much? he was completely out of your life, you were just getting over him. you wondered why he was here? for fucks sake he plays football- none of this should be relevant to him unless he was here for someone else- a girl? you knew he had many romantic ordeals since you two had ended and that fact alone slightly embarrassed you because you didnt give men the time of day anymore- you didn’t respond to them, talk to them, accept their date offers, you isolated yourself in your attempt to heal.

you sat in your seat, leg bouncing, anxiety at its peak- all of your nerves were tense as you took shallow breaths before excusing yourself to the bathroom- holding your composure until you found an empty hallway- you’d love to be in a more private place but bathrooms were always crowded at events like this.

you paced back and forth, your fingers busied themselves. you should be elated that you’d won- not acting like a child because you saw your ex.

god grow the fuck up you’re going to see him from time to time.

you said anything and everything to make the situation smaller but with the heightened emotions you were at the verge of a panic attack. you sat against the wall with your phone next to you- doing your best to stay off of it because god knows whatever people were saying would be your last straw.

you tucked your hair behind your ear as the first tear fell down your cheek, it wasn’t until then that you’d realized you never gave yourself a minute to mourn the loss of him- he who was entirely alive and healthy, to mourn the loss of his bear hugs, his corny kiss attacks to wake you up, his fingers that danced across your skin- sending chills up your spine, him wrapping a towel around your warm body after a shower.

tears fell and fell and fell, they fell until you covered your face with your hands, until your ears rang, and until you could smell that familiar scent. a body sat next to yours- running a hand down your back and the other fiddling with the ends of your hair. “breath, minha amada.’

you didn’t look up- nor did you removed your hands from your face until he pulled them away, forcing your red and teary eyes to meet his glossed over ones, “o que te deixa pra baixo?” he spoke as he kept eye contact. (what’s got you down?)

the way he spoke and the ghost of his fingers as he adjusted positions made you realize you weren’t alone in your mourning

#richarlison #richarlison de andrade #richarlison icons #richarlison imagines #richarlison imagine #richarlison angst #richarlison smut #richarlison fluff #richarlison x reader #richarlison x you

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universe-friday · 25 days

Text

EXCERPT #29:

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

Are you there, old sport?

I haven’t lost you too, right?

What am I to do…? I’m back to square one.

No Thalia... I can’t even talk to February anymore… Me and Thalia did so much together… I haven’t talked to my usual contacts in weeks… I didn’t need them anymore…

Now I have no idea what’s going on outside. I still hear the screams, I still hear the horrors, the typical cyborgs of the City.

I know I have you, old sport. But I can’t help but feel a little lonely again.

I’m not going to sulk around over Thalia as much as I can help it… I’m trying.

Well, you already know how I am with February, old sport. But I am trying to teach myself that… Maybe, if people run away, it’s for a reason. They probably don’t want to talk to you, for a reason.

I still don’t know the full situation with Thalia. It’s bothering me more than I want to admit.

Why can’t I just move forward? Why must I feel so strongly about wanting to know? Why must I think about her every waking moment, when I know she’s out there, able to distract her thoughts with… whatever it is she’s doing!

[...]

I have to admit to you, old sport…

I went over to her place. Thalia’s old setup. Not to see if she was there… I knew she wouldn’t be. I just wanted to see if… she left something...? I don’t know! I… I just needed to know.

It was empty; a desert. Well, except for a few things. They seemed to be the only thing keeping her memory alive.

You could see where her original set-up was. The table is still there, yet to collect dust. Her chair pushed far across the room as if she was rushing to get out.

Few things remained. A bin, toppled over under the table, with crumpled-up paper spilling out of it. I unravelled one, to read ‘Dear, Radio,’ but all that followed were scratches of a pencil. Scribbling out every word she wrote. I couldn’t make out a single word, no matter how hard I tried.

The other pieces of paper were of the same nature. One read ‘Radio,’ with all the words, once again, scribbled out, except for ‘sorry’ and ‘leave’.

There must’ve been at least a hundred of these letters. I simply didn’t have time to read them all. Instead, I quickly stashed all of the letters away in my jacket pockets and went to leave the room.

Before I opened the door, I found one more thing. An object, pieced together with a bunch of scrap metal, that had a prominent antenna, however, it had been snapped in two. The screen, now cracked, was flickering on and off.

I looked closer, to see that it was tuned to the same frequency I am speaking to you on, right now, old sport. She was listening. Yet, she never told me.

The makeshift machine had a microphone attached, that had also been broken in two. No wonder she was able to make the machine she promised to. But she wrecked it before ever using it.

We could’ve talked. We could’ve stayed in contact while she was away.

Yet, she decided to cut our ties before we even tried… But… why…?

[...]

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roninishere · 9 months

Text

Can you hold me?

part two to Right now. Giyuu Tomioka x female reader Warnings: mentions of blood and abuse, clear signs of depression, and a lot of feels. No proof reading, grammar mistakes haha. I apologize Summary: Adjusting to your new life and fuck, it’s hard.

‘It feels like a tear in my heart

Like a part of me missing

And I just can't feel it

I've tried and I've tried

And I've tried’

Hearing a very and heavy sigh from Giyuu, you looked up to see him pass out. But, before he could hit the ground, in a blink of an eye, you caught him in your arms.

You now were faster, stronger, and your senses were amplified. It would have to take some getting use to.

Very concerned about him, you concreted, and once you could hear a very steady heartbeat, you stopped yourself from getting worked up. You took this time to take a good look at his face, avoiding to look at scratches you created, and you could tell he was beyond exhausted.

He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks were a little sunken in. He wasn’t sleeping nor eating, how could he? He had been worried sick about you. With a sad smile on your face, you picked him up in your arms, and even though it wasn’t a good idea…

In a matter of minutes, you were in the Butterfly Estate, setting him softly on an empty bed. You wanted to stay, stay until he woke up and express how sorry you were, and have him hold you in his arms. Hold and kiss you telling you everything would be okay.

Because it won’t. Going home isn’t an option, not like this, not around Mio. You just couldn’t. Even if it hurt to be away, to possibility be never come back home, or at least for a while. You had to stay away for her protection, and the settling fact that tou indeed may never be with her or Giyuu again.

Numbness overcame your body.

Pressing your now cold lips to his forehead, you gently squeezed his hand ‘Goodbye darling. Thank you for everything.’

Turning to leave with the burning sensation in her eyes, she was brought to a halt when there was a gasp, turning, your indifferent eyes met the Butterfly Pillar. Panicking, you threw open the window, and took off, knowing a hundred percent that she saw you. The new You. Knowing exactly what she’s capable of, you ran as hard as you could.

Nothing darkness overcame you.

‘Tears on my face I can't take it

If lonely is a taste then it's all that I'm tasting

Do you hear my cry?

I cry, oh

Can you hold me?

Can you hold me in your arms?’

Here you were. Your hands tied up, resting on your lap as there was a thick piece of cloth? Of some sort of material around your mouth, and tied around your head. Looking around your surroundings, it was pitch black as you gently pat the oddly familiar tatami mat. Where the hell were you?

Putting the pieces together, Shinobu must’ve knocked you out. You honestly were surprised considering the similar situation with the Kamado siblings and how she didn’t hesitate them to attack them.

You were like sisters after all though.

Maybe seeing that you hadn’t had any flesh or blood, she couldn’t kill you.

“I know you all must have questions about why I called this meeting,” Your head snapped to the Masters voice that was slightly muffled by the doors you assumed that were in front of you. A feeling of uneasiness took over your body as you realized who was there with him. All of the hashira.

Anxiety filled your head as thought of what could possibly happen. “Amane, dear, can you please introduce our guest.”

Hearing those soft footsteps, you calm down, but you still breathed heavily with all of the sudden burning sensation in the back of your throat. When those sliding doors open; there was multiple gasps, mixed emotions, and the room was dead silent for about two minutes.

The only thing you could hear was your heavy breathing.

“Tomioka! I thought you said you found her ALIVE?!” Sanemi and Obanai went with their normal shenanigans, blaming and picking on your husband.

Rage pulsed through your veins, how could they possibly blame this on him? You being a demon was no one’s fault, but honestly your own. Giyuu eyes never left yours as the last forty-eight hours were just a fucking roller coaster of emotions for him.

He was just grateful that you weren’t dead, and didn’t feed into the temptation.

You felt a flash of irritation as your temper sparked. Getting to your feet, with a flick of your wrist, the snap of the rope around your wrists caught the attention of some, concerned of the worst as you untied the material around your mouth. Before Tengen and Kyojuro could get to their feet, in a blink of an eye, you stood in front of Giyuu.

“S…s….” Even though you physically couldn’t speak, your body language spoke for you. Your eyebrows pressed firmly together, creating a crease, you snarled at the two males with your little hands balled up into tight fists that resulting in you once again digging your nails into your palms, your fangs out.

Anger was just pouring out of you.

Not at all were you affected by all the humans around you, just once again, protecting your husband, basically warning Sanemi and Obanai to back off. Just like old times.

After Aname whispered to Master of the situation, he softly said “Fascinating.”

“This all so sad,” Gyeomi had tears down his cheeks as Mitisuri and Shinobu couldn’t believe their eyes.

The wind pillar was bewildered by this, another demon that wasn’t trying to murder everyone in this room. Another Nezuko case. Though he envied you, he still had so many mixed emotions on this. You were still a fellow Hashira, someone that he had respect for and thought was great fighter. How could this have happened?

Sanemi brought up the elephant in the room, “There’s no Fucking way,” Obanai had been speechless this whole time, how? “And how about being around blood?”

Taking a step to the side, you felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to the Water Hashira with light in those pretty blue eyes you loved so much. “Trust me.”

Slightly confused, you tilted your head to the side before he took out his sword and cut his wrist. The same way Sanemi did with Nezuko a while back. As he held his wrist just inches away from your face, you went your mouth get watering.

Blood. Flesh. Blood. Flesh. Just a little bit.

‘If you want to be the strongest. Feed into the temptation.’ That fucking voice again AH!

That pained ragged breathing came back as your dig your fingers of one hand into your arm, feeling pain, your own pain, taking away some of the temptation. As every drop fell to the ground, it was like time had slowed down, so much of it.

NO! Remember! Mio, Giyuu, my family. You don’t need it, fight the temptation. Fight the temptation! You’re not a killer. You can still be good, a protector, a demon slayer still. Remember my little girl, my husband, my everything.

“You breathe life into my existence, making every moment worth living.” His voice from the night before echoed in your head over and over as your blood thirsty eyes were now calm, and locked into his. Without hesitation, you tore a piece of your old dirty demon slayer top, the bottom, and you wrapped it around his wrist, tying it to help the bleeding.

‘Tomioka, Y/N will be able to resume her duties in the demon slayer corps.’ That was the deciding factor, you could have been more grateful.

‘Just wrap me in your arms, in your arms

I don't wanna be nowhere else

Take me from the dark, from the dark

I ain't gonna make it myself

Put your arms around me

Let your love surround me

I am lost

I am lost’

It didn’t make it any easier though.

Being away from your family caused you to slowly fall into a depression. You had to constantly remind yourself that it was for the best, and maybe there would be a way to fix it, even if you didn’t truly believe it yourself. This is all for the best. For their safety.

But fuck, all you wanted was to be wrapped up in Giyuus arms and to hold your baby girl.

“Y/N.”

Seeing that Amane held the Hashira meetings at night, it was easy for you to just leave after the meetings. It’s not like you’d ignore everyone, you just were lost in your head. Since you were now a demon, you knew that some of them cared about you still, but it was sympathy now. It’s the way they looked at you, they pitted you. Not wanting anyone’s sympathy or pitty, you just would quietly find yourself out in the opposite direction.

Giyuus monotone brought you to a halt instantly, but your heart still would pump so hard against your chest. Turning to face him, you fought the urge to grab him by his haori and kiss him, but instead forced a smile, half of it genuine because you had really missed him. Clearing your throat, you wanted to try something you had been working on with Tamayo and Yushiro.

“…Hi.” Quite surprised yourself, you felt a rush of excitement as you flashed your smile at him, fangs and all.

Your fangs idiot.

Realizing how ridiculous you most likely looked, your hand flew up to your mouth covering it as you blushed hard apologizing. This version of you, you hated it. An even though your husband had too many bad memories with demons, he’d still take this version of you then you being dead.

A chuckle left his lips as he reached out, wrapping his soft slender fingers around your wrist, pulling it away from your face “Don’t be. It’s the first time in months you’ve actually smiled.”

Busted.

Well what did you except? Your husband knew you all too well. His other hand cupped your chin, forcing you look up in his pretty dark blue eyes. You swore that they would trap you in a trance, causing you to go weak.

“…it’s hard to find anything worth smiling about anymore,” your words were unexpected even for you, you eyes widen at how blunt you were before realizing that this is a very bad idea. Your breath quickened as you began to panic. Quickly taking his hands in your own, you gave them a gentle squeeze, “..I.have to go.”

Just when you went to turn to flee, his hand tighten around yours, causing you jerk back. Although you could easily get out of his hold, a part of you didn’t.

So you didn’t. You were grateful that the two of you were outside the Estate walls, far from everyone.

You let out a shaky sigh, your shoulders dropping in defeat before you turned back you, your empty eyes looked in his. You knew that he knew about the state of depression you had fell into.

He had seen you go into it before.

“Please don’t go, don’t do this to yourself.” He quietly begged, as he squeezed your hand. Just when you thought he could be anymore adorable, when he begs, you can’t help grow weak.

Isolation. No one would hear from you for weeks, and even though you’d say you were with Tamayo and Yushiro, it was a lie, you weren’t with them that often.

But you never meant for anyone to worry about you, so you were going to just lie your way out of this conversation that you wanted to avoid “…I don’t have anywhere to go, you know that,” you paused briefly before whispering “…im okay-y…. Really.”

I don’t have anywhere to go. I’m not okay.

‘If I ain't got you here

If I ain't got you, I ain't got nothing at all’

Yet you thought it was the best, the decision to never come back home, and though it probably was, the Water Hashira hated it. You had made that decision, without him. However, even he hated it, he knew it’s to protect Mio, even if that meant from yourself. Even if that meant torturing yourself for as long as you needed to.

His hand soften around your wrist, sliding his fingers in between yours as he brushed a few strands of your hair behind your ear. Another blush came across your cheeks as his warm hand brushed lightly against your skin.

Your heart was pounding so hard you swore he could hear it, but he could hear the softest short breaths leave your lips.

“I know you well enough to know when you’re lying.”

Busted again.

When would you learn to stop lying to him?

“Y..yeah..,” you laced your fingers together as your other hand reached out to lay on his chest, but instead played with the ends of his Haori out of nervousness “…I-I just want…to c-come home…just like how things were before.”

Your eyes dropped to where your hands playing with his haori, but you still had that scary blank expression on your face “…Being away from you two is like someone ripping my heart out of my chest, and just…feeling numb.”

Honestly. I think I’d take death over this, she thought

He hadn’t heard you talk like this for YEARS, and it twisted his stomach in knots, and not the good kind. “…what if there is no cure? Tamayo said that I could start forgetting my past, I already I don’t remember anything from my childhood…”

Running his hand through your hair, he bent down and kissed your forehead as he gave your hand a squeeze “That’s kind of a relief, I wouldn’t want you to remember that.”

“…how come?”

“Let’s just say, when we met, you were mentally and physically damaged.” Those were the best words he could describe even though your family were horrible people. He remembers all the times you training together to be swordsman, when you would try to hide the bruises from him. However despite everything going on in your household, you never failed to smile or live in the moment with him. That was one of the many things he admired about you.

‘Can you hold me?

Can you hold me?

Can you hold me in your arms?

In your arms’

The last time he heard you talk like this, you were fifteen, just a few weeks away from joining him at not only being sixteen, but as a Hashira too. That was until you stopped showing up to your training sessions, and delivering him a message from your crow, that you were quitting the corps. Telling him how sorry you were to disappoint him, telling him that you were grateful for every moment you shared. That you weren’t marrying him as you promised. Saying goodbye my love.

Goodbye my love?

You were leaving? Had he done something wrong? Did something happen?

This was all so sudden, out of nowhere. Feeling his insides twist and turn, he searched out for you. There has to be an explanation.

He found you at your favorite place to see cherry blossoms, you had your back to him as you sat on the bench. You didn’t have any of your things with you?

You never turned to him, or said anything. You must’ve been in deep thought.

When he walked around the bench, The sight of you made his heart drop into his stomach; you were nearly unrecognizable. Yellow and purple bruising all over your neck, leading up to your face. Your once pump lips were swollen with multiple cuts that looked so painful.

Seeing that your hair fell over your face, he inhaled before brushing your hair behind your ears. His eyes widen as anger welled up in his chest. Your right eye was swollen shut with nasty purple bruising on your skin and just under your left one, your cheek was swollen. Cuts all over your face, and your nose has looked like it had been broken and you attempted to snap it back in place.

“You shouldn’t have come.” Your eyes-well eye never left the cherry blossom as your voice was laced with monotone. The look on your face so unreadable…it was empty. Your happy beautiful eyes were so dull, like someone snatched the light out of them.

Giyuu didn’t have to ask who did it, he already knew, this wasn’t the first time he’d seen you like this. His breathing was uneven for multiple reasons; he had to get you to a doctor right away, his anger was growing by the second, and he was so worried about not only your physical well being, but your mental state.

“You knew I would anyways,” his voice was soft. “hey, talk to me,” he begged, and you swore those pretty blue eyes will get you to admit anything. “what’s running through that pretty head?” Running his hand through your hair, he found another cut near your scalp. A deep one.

Your monotone never changed nor did your eye “how much I want to die,” his eyes darted back to your as he went his chest tighten as your honestly. “I went and saw my parents, I told them I was going to be a Hashira and gunna get married. But I’ll never amount to anything in my life. I’ll never be a good Hashira, or a wife.”

You tried to make amends with them, but how much it backfired. But the reality was, you were weak around them, especially your father, the trauma fucked you up so bad that you never fought back. Even when you knew how to.

“Y/N, look at me,” he hated what you said about yourself, cause those were your fathers words, not yours. “Please,” your gaze from the cherry blossom fell to the beautiful dark ocean blue eyes in front of you “those are his words, not yours. You know none of that is true. You’re the most talented, strong, beautiful person I’ve ever met. You’re going to be a Hashira, and a great wife and an amazing mother one day,” his thumb gently brushed your bruised cheek.

“Remember when you pulled me out of the darkness?” You nodded as he continued “I will pull you out too, just come back to me. Come back to the light. Don’t let them control you. You only have control over your own life.”

Come back to me. Come back to the light.

Those words echoed in your head, and your hand gently tugged at his wrist, like you had something to tell him, but all he needed to see what’s how soft your eyes got with a whimper of pain.

“Besides,” the squeeze from you brought him back to reality, “If you forget, I’ll tell you all about it over and over. And over again.” He promised.

Though you did appreciate it, it still didn’t bring you any comfort to what could happen in the near future. Giyuu knew that as well, he knew you were hurting. He knew that being away was literally ripping you apart in the inside. The further you were away from them, the further away you were from yourself.

“..thank you,” you forced a small smile before reaching up on your tippie toes, pressing your lips against his cheek for a moment. Pulling back, you brushed your thumb against his hand “…I should get going.”

Feeling your touch slid away, he knew it’s be a few months until he’s going to see you again, at the next Hashira meeting. He knew you’d go back to isolation, falling deeper into your depression. You turned to leave feeling that too familiar feeling in your chest. ‘You both breathe life into my existence, making every moment worth living.’

“…take care of yourself and Mio-o…” overwhelming guilt and sadness washed over you.

Hearing your voice crack, he set his hand on your shoulder as he gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to face him with tears streaming down your cheeks. Sucking in a deep shaky breath, you couldn’t stop the tears, but a part of you truly didn’t want to stop them.

‘Yeah, yeah

Yeah, I feel like it's just me, like it's just me

What it gon' take? What it gon' be?

I don't even know

(It's not just you)

But I'm lonely

Feeling like I don't even know me, I don't even know me

(I feel it too)

Gotta have you, gotta see you

(You're the only thing I have to think about

The only one I that can't live without)

I see you

(I need you, need you to hold me now)’

Why were you so weak?

It had been fourteen months, seven days, ten hours, twenty-three minutes, and now thirteen seconds since you last were home. Since you last were with your family. Last time you held little Mio. Over a year now? Mio is now over three and a half years old, walking and talking now. And you’ll never see any of it.

Why is this world so beautiful yet cruel?

Had you not given it your all?

Why did it have to be like this?

Brushing your tears away with his thumbs, he couldn’t help to feel a little bit of panic run through his body when the silent night was interrupted by your sobs. Feeling your hands wrap around his wrists, he pulled you into a tight embrace as you let it all out. His chin rested on top of your head, a slight wave relief running through his body when you wrapped your arms around him, feeling you bury your head in the crook of his neck.

After several minutes of him tracing shapes, ‘I love you’s’, and ‘it’s okay’s’ on the small of your back, you fell under the unfamiliar fuzziness feeling of his touch, your pain sobs replaced by heavy deep breaths.

“Come back to me, come back to the light.” He whispered when he turned his head, his lips pressed into your hair, near your right earlobe.

‘if I ain't got you

If I ain't got you

I ain't got nothing. Can you hold me?

I ain't got nothing

If I ain't got you

I ain't got you

If I ain't got you

I'm lonely. Can you hold me?

If I ain't with you I'm lonely

I'm lonely

I need you. Can you hold me in your arms?

I need you’

Come back to me. Come back to the light.

You’ve heard that before, no? Why did it feel some familiar to you?

Pulling your head back enough to lock your glossy eyes with his dark ocean eyes, you could feeling your heart beating hard against your chest “O..Okay-y.” You spoke ever so softly, like a feather gently falling on the ground.

He gulped seeing how close the two of you were and he didn’t know why, but you were so pretty, despite your eyes red and puffy, tear stains on your cheeks. You always are so pretty to him, in any state that you were in, he swore he would never stop falling in love with you. Your quivering pump lip was calling to him, he swore of it.

The way your big beautiful eyes looked into his…so hopeful and loving. Would it be wrong? In this situation? Inappropriate? Would you push him away? Would he just make things worse?

Those doubts and fear were washed away when you took him by surprise, kissing him. In shock, he widen his eyes for a couple of seconds before he closed his eyes to those familiar butterflies in his tummy feeling. His hand tangled itself in your hair as your soft lips moved against his own. Your kisses were so soft, almost teasing him, but he knew that you were just scared of hurting him.

‘Can you hold me? Can you hold me? Can you hold me in your arms?

Feel like it's just me, like it's just me. Can you hold me?

What it gon' take? What it gon' be?

I don't even know, I don't even know

But I'm lonely, lonely. Can you hold me?

Feel like I don't even know me

Feels like I don't even know me. Can you hold me in your arms?

I don't even know me ‘

But he wanted more, he whined against your lips as he nibbled down. Hesitating, you opened your mouth slowly just to have Giyuu shove his tongue in your own mouth. Your hands were pinned against his chest when he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you tight to him, leaving not even an inch between the two of you. As he explored your mouth, you moaned at the feeling of bliss. You swore you were in heaven.

“…I love y-you.” You gasped when he trailed kisses down your jaw and neck, sneaking a hand at the nape of his neck, tugging at his loose hairs, pulling more out of his loose ponytail.

‘I love y-you.’ Those words leaving your mouth make him all warm and fuzzy. Pulling back, you giggle softly at how red his cute pale cheeks were.

Fourteen months, eight days, twelve hours, fifty minutes, and three seconds since he last heard you say that, the last you actually smiled, the last time you were truly happy, and when he last saw that bright light in your eyes.

“I love you too my love.”

Definitely not want to originally wanted to write, but I saved it for part three! I didn’t want to go past two parts, but I couldn’t myself! I will try to post part three soon! Another shout to @unofficialmuilover because my brain in scattered 24/7 hah. Enjoy and love y'all!

#demon slayer x reader #giyuu x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #giyuu tomioka #kny giyuu #demon slayer

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jhsgf82 · 1 year

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Without Success: The Failed Attempts of Peeta Mellark to Speak to Katniss Everdeen

For @dandelionlovesyou

Failed Attempt #1

Age 11

The first time I try, without success, to talk to Katniss Everdeen, the girl I have this crazy crush on, is the day after I tossed her that bread…

We’re at school, on the playground at recess. She’s off on her own as usual, and I’m near some of the other boys but ignoring them right now. My friends have been trying to get me to play ball with them, but I’m not in the mood. I can’t help watching Katniss...

I’ve been feeling ashamed about it, the thing with the bread; I’ve had this sick feeling in my stomach ever since. I just keep thinking I should go over and apologize to her, for tossing her those loaves of bread like she was one of the pigs, instead of handing them to her directly.

She probably thinks I’m a jerk for doing that, even if she did take them. They must’ve been muddy and gross, I think, frowning. And I feel bad they were burnt, but I knew that was the only way I could give them to her.

Well, I must’ve been staring the entire time I was having these thoughts because suddenly, she looks up, and our eyes meet. I really like her eyes; they’re so pretty, and different from any other girl’s that I know. I freeze for a moment, because of her eyes; I guess that’s why I don’t look away like I normally do.

She looks back at me from across the yard, then looks down, and for some reason, she picks a dandelion. She stares at it for a long time, and though it’s hard to tell from the distance, I think she smiles a little.

I’ve heard that the dandelion is a weed. The yellow color is nice, though, and I like how you can rub it under your chin to tell if you like butter (if it turns yellow). Mine did. Of course, I like butter; I’m a baker’s son. Anyway, I have a thought. To bring her flowers. I’d like to bring her nicer flowers than dandelions, but there are so many around the schoolyard, and she seems to like them, at least, from the look on her face.

I think to pick a whole bunch of them for her before recess is over, and I set to work. After I’ve gathered quite a few, I begin to head over to her…

But then I stop. Reaching up, I touch my eye and wince, remembering my punishment for burning that bread. My brother, Rye, tried to cover up the deep bluish-purple color for me this morning with some of Mom’s makeup. He told me it didn’t make me a pansy. I was more concerned Mom would notice some of it missing. The stuff isn’t cheap. He said it was necessary, though, and he only used a little bit, promising she wouldn’t notice. Anyway, it sort of hid my black eye, and I’ve been doing my best all morning not to touch it and rub it off.

I wonder if Katniss will notice if I go up to her. Maybe not the makeup (the shade is pretty close to my skin), but surely, she’ll notice the swelling. Even though I had a bag of frozen peas on it for like an hour last night, it must look all puffy and horrible today. I can’t go up to Katniss looking like this.

I turn away but look back at her over my shoulder. She still has the dandelion. She’s sitting on the swings alone, staring at it and pumping her legs a little. She looks cute, and lonely. I start to change my mind‒I could go over and sit by her, maybe a few swings down where she can’t see my face too good‒but then the bell rings.

I shoot her one last look; she doesn’t look at me, and then I sigh. I drop the bunch of dandelions; they fall into a pile at my feet, and I head in with the rest of the class.

All the way inside I’m beating myself up over my failed attempt at talking to Katniss. Actually, it’s not the first time, come to think of it. The first one was after she sang in the music assembly...

From the moment she sang, I knew I was a goner.

I was so impressed. I mean, it was beautiful, and she wasn’t even scared. I would have been scared, to get up in front of everyone like that…

I wanted to say something to her then, something like… “You sing pretty.” Or, “You sing like the birds, but prettier.”

I shake my head at my stupid five-year-old self.

I’m braver now. Better with words, though apparently, not much. I have friends, and I’m even able to talk to girls.

Just not the one I really want to…

Maybe tomorrow.

#drabble #Peeta Mellark #Katniss Everdeen #for dandelionlovesyou #I changed it slightly #I think in the book she picked the dandelion and took off home haha #Happy Valentine's Day #even tho it's a little sad and angsty #everlark

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feels-of-a-fangirl · 4 months

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so I finally watched Encanto. cue Madrigal feels bc what am I, if not on brand.

also please note, I’m a white, Slavic girl living in Central Europe so I probably didn’t get a lot of the Latinx subtext in the movie.

man, first of all, all of the Bruno feels.

Bruno must have had it so hard all his life. the only man in the family, he must have felt the pressure of supporting everyone. and the triplets presumably received their gifts at the same time and it must’ve been scary for each of them in different ways. Pepa obviously, because how do you ask a five-year-old to control their moods because a tantrum can cause a hurricane? Julieta is a different case because cooking is not an obvious gift, so maybe for a while she thought that her siblings got gifts but she didn’t?

and Bruno got future vision. at age 5. it must have been terrifying. no wonder he’s one bundle of anxiety.

I was wondering why Pepa and Julieta were rather late mothers, but now that I think of it, they must have been scared that their kids would get gifts as well. and these gifts would be just as scary.

Dolores and Isabela are both 21 which means Pepa and Julieta were both 29 when they had them. and man, while Isabella’s gift is innocent enough, Dolores’s is also kinda terrifying because imagine hearing all sorts of stuff at age 5. no wonder Julieta had her second child two years later (Luisa is 19) but Pepa waited 6 years (Camilo is 15) and then another 10 (Antonio is 5).

because Camilo’s gift is also kinda scary. Julieta’s daughters got off easy. Prow’s children? not so much.

and then Mirabel got no gift at all. and she saw it as a bad thing, as did Alma, but you can’t tell me the triplets weren’t secretly a little grateful. Pepa and Bruno at least.

Antonio’s gift is scary too, when you think about it. I bet he is gonna convince everyone to become vegan, isn’t he?

but back to Bruno.

Alma’s trauma response was the expectation of perfection from her family. but man, what expectations she must have had from Bruno, who could never replace her Pedro but who must have felt like he should. like he should be the man of the family. on top of his scary visions. I kinda think his invention of Hernando and Jorge was a little bit trying to find a version of himself that was good enough for everyone when he felt he wasn’t.

think about how everyone thinks Bruno was mischievous, when in reality he was a nervous goofball.

his disappearance… one doesn’t make such a decision hastily. I can’t imagine him hiding in the walls on a whim. I can see him finding the hidden room and hiding out there as a child… and then, after admirable doesn’t get a gift and he has his last vision, he goes to his safe place and just… never leaves. the family has another Madrigal man with a gift in Camilo.

for some reason I don’t think Bruno got along well with either of his sisters’ husbands. Felix and Agustin are clearly in love with their wives and happy to take on a more supportive role in the family whereas Bruno probably think he ought to be the patriarch… when he’s anything but. he must’ve felt lonely.

#encanto #bruno madrigal #alma madrigal #pepa madrigal #julieta madrigal #dolores madrigal #isabela madrigal #camilo madrigal #antonio madrigal #mirabel madrigal #luisa madrigal #madrigal feels #encanto meta

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chidoroki · 1 year

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182 Days of TPN - Day 65

Chapter 65: “The Secret Garden”

I'm so used to seeing GP in black & white because of how often I read through the upcoming chapters, so whenever I do see artwork of Emma and her time here at the hunting ground I’m literally blown away by all the bright colors.

Back during ch61, Yuugo realized that Emma is the one who decides the plan based on Ray’s knowledge and though I did comment about how that dynamic works really well for them, I also brought up how both kids can function just fine on their own. The reason for that is because they pick up the other’s main role during their time apart. Without Ray, we see how Emma has slowed down and started to analyze her situation (at least it seems more clear to me now anyways).

Emma has always been praised as the more physically fit one out of the fullscore trio (and probably all the GF kids), so the fact that Violet is able to shake her off and get Emma lose sight of her for a little bit is kinda impressive.

The way they have him reaching outside of the panel for her is pretty neat. Really stresses how desperate he was trying to save her.

Thank you geezer for saving my boy but you’re lucky you didn’t break his damn back with that slam.

I have an endless list of reasons why I wanted to see these arcs animated but add Ray’s rage to it too. All that anger, desperation and panic in his voice.. I wanna hear it so badly. It would be such a switch up from the usual calm and collected boy we’re used to.

All the times I skim through these chapters, why am I only remembering now that Yuugo & his family didn’t journey to A08-63 right away? I guess they weren’t too bothered with WM’s instructions with trying to change the world, but aahh, now I wish we could’ve seen more of those couple months of them just chilling out in the bunker.

Oh huzzah, now you wanna be nice. Emma’s little speech warmed up your lonely heart a bit huh?

Here we start to see the role reversal thing with Ray now making final decisions. Sure it leans on his vow from ch38 of protecting his family, but him choosing to go after Emma despite all the things Yuugo just told him about the poachers and the hunting ground is something he doesn’t need to think twice about. It’s a reckless move but hey, that’s exactly how Emma usually functions.

How did Violet know she had the pen? Did she randomly dig around Emma’s pockets looking for it? And she must’ve had her own normal pen on hand to right this message considering the WM pens don’t have any ink, yeah? And Emma slept through all this happening? I’m strangely baffled by it all.

What would have the scary GP music sounded like?? Aahh no doubt that Obata would’ve definitely nailed the chilling yet anxiety filled atmosphere of this place. I forget when or where I tossed out this thought of mine, but I still think it would’ve been pretty bittersweet if it was a very rushed/distorted version of Leslie’s song. Sweet because we’d hear that iconic melody again but bitter because ooohh just imagine what the demons could’ve done to that poor lad to get that song.

Favorite panel/moment:

The absolute fury on Ray’s face lives rent free in my head.. like I have flipped through this story on countless occasions and I have a hard time picking out another moment where we see Ray get this insanely hell-bent on anything. He is just so incredibly pissed off at Yuugo’s schemes but also at himself for not being quick enough to grab Emma. This also contributes to him now calling the shots because no matter what Yuugo tells him, Ray’s beyond adamant in saving Emma no matter the danger to himself.

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #182daysoftpn #chidoroki used chatter

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liloinkoink · 2 years

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lamplight time! did i write continuation to the last bit i posted the other day? no i did not! i’ve hopped earlier in the timeline: martyn’s first attempt at traveling with a sentient fire, from outsider pov

Nights at the Drowsy Dragon Inn are never particularly exciting, except for those when the inn sees an adventuring party. Most of them set out from the little town to make the hard trek up to the ruins of the city of Dogwarts, and very few of them come back. Sadie likes to entertain the thought that they simply traveled elsewhere instead, finding another town to spend the night after a successful adventure. Then another party will breeze through, talking of the incomplete quest’s impressive reward money, and she knows.

She usually feels bad for them, hearing them talking about that place, and give them a secret little discount for their stay. Her husband thinks that it’s stupid.

“They’re going to die anyway,” he says. “They’re not gonna need the money.”

It’s the principle of the thing, she tells him. She’s being nice. How could she not? On a mission like that, it’s possible it’ll be the last nice thing anyone will ever do for these people.

It’s not like they never come back. Sometimes they do. Whole parties return, empty-handed but alive, and she charges them a perfectly normal amount fee.

But sometimes…

Tonight, a man comes in alone. Sadie recognizes him, but only sort of—He’d come in with a party of four a few months back. She remembers them because they’d been noisy, chattering and shouting constantly. The whole time they’d been here, they’d been riling each other up and laughing long and loud. They’d been difficult to miss for the nights they stayed here, making it even harder to miss now the way quiet follows the lone traveler as the door shuts behind him.

Sadie remembers him especially because he’d been friendly, having been the one to pay for the rooms here when the four had stayed. He’d been lively then, chuckling under his breath as he’d walked up to the counter and cracking jokes as he’d handed over their fate.

There’s no laughter now. No little party of friends. Just one man, passing through the front room of the Drowsy Dragon Inn at half past midnight. His hair’s a mess, tufts of blond hair sticking out in clumps, sweaty bangs dried to his forehead. There’s stains on his clothes—mud on his pants, sweat on his chest, soot on his sleeves. He’s not bloody, at least, but he’s dirty, and there’s tears in the fabric that look like must’ve been attacked. He’s wearing, she notes, the same faded green shirt he’d been wearing when he’d been here months ago, the cleanliness of which she decides not to think anything more of.

He’s also carrying a torch. That’s not super unusual—travelers carry them at night to keep monsters at bay. Most travelers extinguish them when they get to a well-lit town, though she supposes with the way the rest of him looks, she can excuse him forgetting.

His name had been—… uh. His name had started with… it’d started with… J, she’s pretty sure. John, maybe. James?

Regardless of what his name might be, the man walks up to her counter. She sets aside the book she’d been reading and smiles at him. He tries to return it, but he’s out of breath, and he takes a moment to catch it, resting his free hand on the counter. Did he run all the way here? Dogwarts isn’t close. He must have been running for days.

“Hello,” she says, smiling anyway, “Need a room?”

“You have no idea,” says… oh, was his name Jack? No, not Jack… “I don’t have any money on me, but if there’s anything you need help with around here, I’d be more than happy to do it tomorrow morning.”

He’s not the only person to make Sadie a deal like this—it’s not uncommon for adventurers to leave all their money in the care of the most careful member of their party. That’s all well and good till that member runs off and leaves, or worse, is eaten by beasts in the forest outside of Dogwarts (or whatever it is that happens to the people who go).

“It’s starting to get cold,” she says, “If you can bring in enough firewood tomorrow to last me the rest of the month, the room’s all yours.”

“Great. Thank you so much, really,” he sighs, tension draining out of his shoulders. Exhaustion bleeds from every inch of him, and the promise of rest does little to stem it. He reaches down, patting an axe at his belt. It’s damaged, but it shines brightly by the light of his torch. “I’ll get on it first thing after I wake tomorrow.”

“Of course,” she smiles, taking a key from the rack behind her. She holds it out, but before she hands it to him, she points to the torch in his hand. “I’m going to have to ask you to put that out, though. Fire hazard and all.”

It is at this moment when her weary, polite guest becomes unreasonable.

When Sadie points to it, the torch in his hand crackles loudly, and he stares at her a long moment after she speaks, uncomprehending.

“Nnno,” says the man, slowly, as if he’s uncertain. Then, with more conviction, “No. I can’t do that.”

“No,” she repeats. He nods, once.

“I can’t,” he says, “Sorry, it’s really important this doesn’t go out.”

“It’s really important that my inn doesn’t burn down,” Sadie replies.

“It’s not going to catch, I promise,” He insists. The fire in his hand almost seems to dim, as if to prove it. “I’ll be really careful.”

“You’re right, because I’m not letting you stay unless you do the properly careful thing and put it out.”

“I will cut down double the firewood if you don’t make me put this out,” he sounds like he’s pleading. Sadie cannot imagine what could possibly be so taxing about snuffing out a single torch.

“I won’t need any firewood ever again if you burn down my building. Pass,” Sadie says. She knows it’s a low blow for the already deeply frazzled man, but she shoots for it anyway, certain it’ll be the end: “You already can’t pay. Either put it out or sleep outside.”

The man’s face falls. The torch flares up once, but dies back down immediately. Nothing about this makes Sadie feel better about the situation.

“I’m… a paladin now,” he says, half a non-sequitur, by way of explanation, “I can’t let this go out. It’s a holy flame. Part of my oath.”

“I’ve never heard of an oath like that,” she says. She doesn’t think he has either, if the uncertainty in his voice is anything to go by, but she can’t imagine what he actually needs the torch for if he’s lying.

“It’s more like a pilgrimage, then,” he doubles down, “Please.”

“I’m not letting you bring an open flame into the room,” Sadie says, folding her arms, “This is the last time I’m going to say it. Put it out or leave.”

The man looks around, a bit frantic, and all at once she feels bad for him again. Curse Sadie and her bleeding heart for all these poor, doomed adventurers. She can only imagine what he’s just been through… And his whole party is gone… It must be very hard for him. Grief does strange things to people, doesn’t it? No wonder he’s imprinted on his little torch.

“That’s it!” The man shouts. He drops the sizzling torch onto the counter and runs off to a sitting area in the corner. Sadie jumps back out of her chair, startled, before the sight of an open flame on her wooden countertop catches up with her.

She snaps the torch up off the countertop and, as it sizzles in her hands, most of her pity for the man goes up in smoke. Running her hand over the wood where the torch had been, Sadie finds there are no scorch marks. It’s a pleasant sort of warm, but certainly not hot enough for having just been in contact with a live fire.

Said man, for his part, doesn’t even seem to notice her distress. When she looks up, he’s too busy scrambling onto one of the tables, planting his dirty boots onto the clean wood as he reaches for one of the lanterns dangling from the ceiling.

“Hey!” Sadie yells, “Get down from there!”

“I just need to borrow this real quick!” he says, which doesn’t actually address what she said at all, but then he has the lantern free.

There’s a slam as the man jumps off of the table and onto her floor, carting the large lantern with him. He drops it on the counter, grinning all the while.

“You said you can’t have an open flame,” he says, “So if I stick the fire in here, I’m good, right?”

Sadie opens her mouth to respond. She feels like there’s a dozen reasons she should say no to that, but it dawns on her that if she does, she’s going to have to keep arguing with him.

“Fine.” She holds the key out to him, sighing, “But when you leave tomorrow, I want my lantern back.”

“I can do that,” He takes the key, stuffing it into his pocket, and then takes the torch back. He unlatches the lantern with one hand, then dips the torch inside, touching it against the candle within.

Sadie watches him, if only because he’s doing it on her counter. The wick catches, and then the whole wax stick explodes into flame. The man doesn’t flinch, though Sadie does, jumping back at the audible fwoomp of the fire taking it over all at once.

Strangely enough, the torch goes out. He hums, then sets the scorched wood aside without any further inspection, like this doesn’t surprise him.

“Alright. We’re all good, then?” he says, patting the lantern with one hand. It sizzles, though he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“All good,” Sadie confirms, because she isn’t sure what else to do. The man grins, exhausted but relieved, and the lantern in his hands seems to glow brighter with it.

“Awesome. Thank you, dude, I really needed to sleep in an actual bed,” he says, picking up the lantern with both hands. The metal will probably be too hot to touch directly soon, but he doesn’t seem phased by it yet.

“Sadie,” Sadie says.

“Martyn,” he replies, and with that, he’s gone, taking his lantern to the room down the hall.

Sadie watches him go a moment, then sits back down, taking up her book. Where did she get the J from…?

#lew writes #lamplight au #lew library #this is the earliest in the timeline of everything i’ve written

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yandere-writer-momo · 1 year

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Heart Shaped Wound

Chapter 26

Author’s note: Enjoy some fluff with sinister undertones.

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

(Your name) sighed as she sunk her body into the warm tub water. An elderly maid running their fingers through her scalp as they washed her hair for her.

Hanayama was insistent she allow his servants to take care of her before retiring for the night. She has never been pampered like this in her entire life.

“You have such beautiful skin.” One of the old maids complimented (your name) as she scrubbed her back.

“And you’re very pretty.” Another piped up as she continued washing (your name)’s hair. “I can see why he likes you so much.”

“Hanayama loves pretty things.” One of the other maids teased with a smile. “He’s always been such a good boy growing up.”

(Your name) smiled as the two maids reminisced amongst themselves, sharing small details about Hanayama to her.

“He adored his mother growing up and he always made sure she was taken care of till her final days.” One of the maids sighed with a gentle expression. “You’re the first person he’s ever treated this well besides his mother. I’m so happy the young master is finally healing from his loss. He’s finally not lonely.”

(Your name) frowned. She hadn’t realized that Hanayama was still lonely despite being surrounded by subordinates who adored him. He must’ve lived a hard life so far.

“We’re just about done. The young master has prepared some night clothes for you.” The other maid piped up, pointing to a neatly wrapped present on the bathroom counter. The signature black box with the neatly tied red ribbon making (your name) smile. Hanayama really planned out everything for their date tonight from the evening gown to the food to the night wear. She was impressed by his date planning and preparation.

“Would you like us to stay and rub you down in any creams? Hanayama specifically had these imported from France.”

“That’s alright. I can do that myself. Thank you ladies so much.” (Your name) thanked the elderly maids who chuckled.

“It’s our job to take care of the future young miss.” One stated with a sweet smile. (Your name) kept a polite smile on her face. It would appear that Hanayama planned for her to choose him over everyone else.

The two maids bowed and left (your name) alone in the bathroom.

(Your name) rose up from the tub, suds dripping down her body as the water swirled down the drain. A relieved sigh escaping her throat.

That hot bath was overdue with all the stress she’s been having lately with the whole Jun issue and choosing which man to be with. Hanayama must’ve been a mind reader to have someone massage and wash her back for her to relax her.

(Your name) grabbed the fluffy black towel from the rack to dry her body, her eyes glancing over at the box. She wondered what he wanted her to wear.

(Your name) sauntered over to the box, her fingers twirling the red silk ribbon on the box. Hanayama was so thoughtful of her, she was flattered.

(Your name) pulled the ribbon apart and opened the box, her breath hitching in her throat at the box’s content. A silk and lace slip laid inside, it’s vibrant violet color reminding her of the flowers of its namesake.

(Your name) held the slip up to her body, the nightgown coming down past her knees. Another silk garment falling to the floor when she picked up the dress. (Your name)‘s whole face flushing red when she noticed it was a black lace thong made of silk.

How did Hanayama even know her underwear size? Or had he been with enough people to know just by looking at someone? She didn’t want to think about it too much.

(Your name) slipped the thong and silk slip over her body. Her eyes sparkling at the French lotion. It was rose scented, much like the ones his mother adored.

Hanayama must held her in high regard like he held his mother. It was almost endearing but at the same time a little off putting. She didn’t expect him to be such a momma’s boy.

(Your name) opened the ceramic jar and rubbed a small amount of lotion on her body. It applied as smoothly as spreading butter on toast. The lotion was soft and gentle without the oily residue most lotion had. She was impressed by the quality of it. How did Hanayama know she hated feeling sticky when she put on lotion? Maybe it was just coincidence.

On top of all of this, he had even gifted her a toothbrush and toothpaste. It was as if he was expecting her to visit him more often.

(Your name) placed her towel in the hamper before making her way out of the bathroom.

Hanayama stood outside the bathroom waiting for her. The large man adorning a silk robe that was the same shade of violet as her slip. He was matching her again, this time to a tee.

Hanayama held an arm out to her, (your name) obediently taking it. The large man leading her down the hall towards his quarters. A content expression on his face.

Hanayama opened the large oak door for her, (your name)’s eyes widening at the modern industrial room. It was incredibly spacious and stylish compared to Jack and Katsumi’s rooms.

Hanayama led her towards his bed, his thumb rubbing calming circles on her hand. (Your name) taking the memo to crawl under the soft sheets, Hanayama then turning around to shut off the light.

(Your name) blushed when Hanayama removed the robe, the yakuza only wearing a pair of black silk boxers. (Your name) quickly turned the other way, Hanayama chuckling.

Hanayama scooted his body close to hers, his large arms scooping her body close to his in a tight embrace. Hanayama buried his face in the crook of her neck, pressing a soft kiss on her collar bone.

“Kaoru?” (Your name) asked, his body practically molding into hers from how close he was holding her. “I can’t imagine it’ll be comfortable for you to sleep like this.”

“You’d be surprised but you’re very soft and it feels nice being this close to you.” Kaoru huskily rasped, pressing another soft kiss to her shoulder. “Have you never been held?”

(Your name) hummed. She has been held with Katsumi but not truly being little spoon. It was kind of comforting to be held like this in Hanayama’s arms. He was so much bigger than her and he was so warm… He made her feel so safe in his embrace.

“Not like this.” (Your name) answered honestly, her body leaning into Hanayama’s warmth. “I feel incredibly safe in your arms.”

Hanayama shifted her body over to face him, his dark eyes staring deeply into her eyes. Their noses touching from how close his face was to hers.

“I want you to ask me to kiss you.” Hanayama whispered, his hot breath fanning her lips. (Your name)’s breath hitched when she felt his hands firmly grasp her hips.

“I’d like you to kiss me, Kaoru.” (Your name) replied softly, leaning her face towards Hanayama’s. Hanayama gently pressed his lips against hers, (your name) gasping into the kiss. Her hands grasping at his hair as he pulled her hips close to his body to deepen the kiss. Their tongues dancing against each other for dominance.

(Your name) had to admit that Hanayama was an amazing kisser. He was almost as good of a kisser as Jack was. Hanayama just lacked that animalistic wildness that Jack had, he was much more sophisticated.

Hanayama pulled away, his lips now on her neck. He was careful not to mark the skin on her neck despite his growing desire to show all the other suitors she was his. It was frustrating to him how she still hasn’t chosen him. She could have the entire world if she wanted if she chose him. The others couldn’t offer her a comfortable life like he could.

(Your name) pressed her lips on Hanayama’s cheek. She could tell he was restraining himself and she had a lot of respect for it. She’s never met a man as patient as Hanayama before.

“How about I lay on your chest and listen to your heartbeat?” (Your name) asked, placing her hands on his abs before sliding them up to his pecs with a smile. “I can tell you’re trying your best to hold back.”

“You make it hard.” Hanayama replied, pressing his lips to her cheek. The large man flipping over on his side to pull her against his chest. “I can’t stand it sometimes.”

“I appreciate you.” (Your name) pressed his lips to his chest, her eyes glancing up to stare into his. “And everything you do for me.”

Hanayama pressed his lips to her head, smiling into the kiss. He hated to admit it but he loved this game they had. He never knew chasing someone would be so exhilarating. He never wanted this to end.

“I wish you could just stay in your arms forever.” (Your name) sighed into Hanayama’s arms as she started to drift off. Hanayama’s eyes darkened, his arms tightening a bit around her as a smile crawled on his lips. He could arrange that.

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

Author’s note: Something is brewing in Hanayama’s mind. Wonder what he’s arranging. Thanks for reading!

#baki hanma #baki the grappler #female reader #yandere #yandere imagine #yandere fic #kaoru hanayama #jack hanma #baki x reader #katsumi orochi #baki son of ogre #baki the grappler x reader #yandere baki #baki kaoru hanayama #yandere x reader #yandere x you #retsu kaioh #baki dou #grappler baki

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whumpsecretsantaevent · 1 year

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Secret Santa Gift: @paintedpigeon1

This is a Secret Santa event so there will be a blanket trigger warning for all entries, so read at your own risk! Potential trigger warnings may include nsfw themes as well as gore and possible squicks.

TITLE: A Small Breakthrough

CWs: amputation (referenced), flashbacks/PTSD, disabled whumpee, disabled caretaker, nonhuman whumpee, nonhuman caretaker, lady whump

The night was cold, freezing perhaps. Those were words that brought to mind places - places of long ago that Kara would rather forget. They were the chills that were sent down her spine when she remembered, remembered the cold hitting her freshly-amputated toes.

She ran her hand through Molly’s fur. She’s safe. She’s free. One day, she might believe it, but certainly not now.

Kara decided, then, not to go outside. After all, amputations often leave nerve damage and the ones who did hers certainly didn’t care about that. The cold would hit it and then she’d be…

Well, the thought only made Kara panic more. Molly whimpered a little and nuzzled into her. She wouldn’t leave Kara alone until she calmed down.

She thought of the vampire in her care… well, the vampire she now owned. Even just the thought of owning another creature, living or undead, made Kara sick.

Six hundred years. How am I ever supposed to undo six hundred years?

Kara was in her thirties and just the time from when she was captured to when she escaped had done so much damage. How was she ever supposed to heal six hundred years of damage? It felt so impossible. Maybe it was impossible. Would the vampire ever trust her? Would the vampire ever believe that she was free?

Kara had been out for years and still couldn’t believe it.

Routine. The vampire probably needed routine.

Not the vampire - Edith. Kara scolded herself and felt awful that she was still referring to Edith as “the vampire.” Who was she? What was she? Was she awful for referring to Edith in such a way? She was, wasn’t she? She was an awful person. She was no different than her captor.

Molly whined and nudged Kara. She’d spiraled again. God, why was she so useless?

Focus.

With Molly’s help, Kara grabbed the blood out of the fridge like she always did in the crook of her arm. Routine. She needs a routine. I can give her that. That’s something I can give.

She looked hesitant at a bag that was sitting in the corner. She didn’t know if it was her place to do such a thing, but Edith had a lot of free time and Kara knew that a lot of free time meant that she would spiral, too. Though the vampire seemed to look at her with a mix of reverence and hatred Kara had no doubt she once had, Kara knew that there was fear and panic under there. If she could prevent that, she would.

She would give the bag.

In fact, she motioned for Molly to pick up the bag for her. Once Molly had it, Kara told herself that she would go through with it. No more shyness. No more worrying.

Well, those both seemed impossible, but she had to do it no matter what. It was her responsibility to Edith to do it. She walked to Edith’s door, which was closed and locked. Sometimes, Kara did the same thing when she was scared and alone and thinking about being back there.

She wasn’t back there. She was with Molly.

Kara knocked gently on the door. “I-um, I know you’re probably scared in there. I was there once too. It can be hard to come out of your room, sometimes. I understand and I’m not angry. I promise.”

Kara swallowed and placed the blood on the floor. Then she took the bag from Molly and placed it next to the blood.

“I left a bag outside your door. No tricks in there, I promise. It’s just a few things for you. I know it can get long and lonely and sometimes… you just need something to do. They’re all things I can’t use because, well, my hands. Just, keep them and you decide what to do with them. Okay?”

There was no answer, not even a “yes, ma’am.” It must’ve been a really bad day, night, whatever for Edith or Edith was really having it rough.

Kara took a deep breath and turned her back on the door. It was a little difficult to do. In a way, Kara felt like she was turning her back on Edith herself by turning away from her door. Kara reminded herself that she needed to give Edith space, if that’s what Edith needed.

One step. Two steps.

Edith would be okay. Edith would survive. Edith had survived worse.

What was Kara going to do the rest of the day? She didn’t know. It felt like the next part of her way was simply waiting to know what Edith thought, that people-pleasing instinct that had been beaten and branded into her.

Kara forced herself to breathe a bit. She’d be fine. Both of them would be.

Right?

—

Edith had been afraid, when she hadn’t answered Kara’s knock at the door. She shouldn’t have done that. It was wrong. Kara owned her. She needed to be available, even if it was just for her to drink blood.

When she opened the door, though, she saw a plain brown bag that was vaguely heavy when she picked it up. For a split second, Edith began to worry. What if she was expected to pay Kara back for it? She wasn’t supposed to receive gifts. She was owned by Kara.

She quietly drank the blood Kara had given her, then stared down the bag. Kara would be insulted if she didn’t open it at all, right? Yes, and she would have hell to pay if she insulted her owner.

Edith opened it apprehensively, afraid. What could be inside?

The first thing she pulled out of the bag was a journal. It had a faux leather cover and a design Edith couldn’t quite figure out carved into it. Inside, the pages were off-white and had a dating system at the top, with thin lines. On the front page, there was a message:

For you to write down anything you need to. I won’t read it, I promise you that. I can’t even open the pages.

Edith supposed that was true, with her owner’s finger amputation and all. Maybe, just maybe, it’d be safe to write in the journal. The next item was a set of pens.

It was true. Kara would never be able to use any of the items in the bag so far. She wouldn’t read Edith’s journal because she couldn’t. Edith could write in it. What would she write? Her past? Her worries? What was happening?

Maybe she should keep track of the actions of her owner, just to make sure that she remembered the kindness when the pain would eventually come.

Edith took a deep breath in her undead lungs and fished the rest of the items out of the bag. There was a small plant in a plastic pot, a ceramic pot with stones at the bottom, a small bag of soil, and a squirt bottle. Edith took the tag out of the plant’s plastic pot.

Peace lily (Spathiphyllum). Allow to dry out between waterings. Light requirement: low amounts of indirect sunlight.

A plant for her room. Something to keep alive. Something that was her responsibility.

Edith couldn’t help but smile a bit. Kara had worked really hard to pick one that wouldn’t put her in danger. Why was Kara being so kind? Kara owned Edith. Edith was meant to serve her, not the other way around.

She needed to thank Kara. However, the thought of seeing her terrified Edith down to the bone. She didn’t want to see anyone right now.

So, Edith ripped a page out of her notebook. She took the red pen out of the pen package and wrote in big letters.

“THANK YOU.”

It was simple, but it got the message across. Edith could only pray that it would be enough to keep Kara happy. Edith had been in her room for days. She couldn’t imagine a world where Kara would be happy with her. Maybe she would be returned if she didn’t make Kara happy. The thought scared her more than the thought of leaving her room.

Wait and see.

Edith would wait and see. If Kara came storming into her room, offended and angry, Edith would know that she messed up. The pain would at least tell her her place.

She opened the door to her room and placed the bowl outside with the note.

Please be enough. Please be enough.

—

A few hours later, Kara went to the door of Edith’s bedroom. The bowl was outside the door as usual.

However, outside with it, there was a note.

“THANK YOU.”

Kara smiled. There was no formality at the end. It was just a thank you message. That was all.

It felt like a triumph. Perhaps it was. She’d broken through one barrier with Edith. Even if Edith thanked her just to be polite, it was still a simple message without bowing and groveling and fear.

Small breakthroughs would make the big one, Kara told herself. She just hoped Edith was better at caring for houseplants than she was.

#Secret Santa Event 2022

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we-pay-for-everything · 2 years

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Another post about Lancelot Du Lac...

Fans forget that people are really hard on women. Even now, if someone cheated on the King, people would go after the woman hard - they’d call her a whore, a homewrecker, a gold digger, all sorts of name - so imagine how people would’ve reacted back then?

Something I haven’t seen discussed is how Gwen was perceived by the people of Camelot. A lot of the nobles, such as Uther or Agravaine, didn’t like her. But do you think the lower classes liked her any better? Look at Harry and Megan, and how people treat Megan. Both Megan and Gwen are women of color, who are not royal, and who "changed” the princes and the status quo. For that, Megan was bullied and scorned, and the same would’ve happened to Gwen. The people of Camelot may not have known why Arthur rejected Princess Elena, but they knew why he rejected Mithian. He rejected someone beautiful and appropriate, who would’ve been of great use to the kingdom, because he loved someone who had cheated on him - a servant girl no less, who should’ve felt lucky to be loved by a King yet had the gall to cheat on him. Imagine what they must’ve thought of Gwen! She was a nobody, a servant - she wasn’t even conventionally beautiful - yet she dared cheat on the King. She clearly didn’t know “her place”. I can’t imagine the people of Camelot not hating her and resenting her - calling her ungrateful, arrogant, entitled, a whore. The low class loves a royal wedding. People are fucking stupid - they don’t care if their tax money is spent on a useless, lavish wedding they won’t participate in, because they love the fantasy of seeing “superior” beings get married and live happily ever after. We’re in love with celebs, millionaires, billionaires, the royalty. People hate poor people begging on the street, but worship people who squander money away like it’s nothing or exploit the working class. The people of Camelot would’ve loved a marriage with Mithian over a marriage with Gwen. Even those who wanted a Queen like Guinevere (à la William and Kate) probably didn’t anymore after she cheated on Arthur.

Furthermore, the people of Camelot, who are used to public executions and violence, are probably not merciful. To them, Arthur would’ve been a weak man for letting himself get cheated on by a mere servant, and even weaker for not being able to move on from her. Arthur is lucky that he’s pretty, good in battle, kind towards the people, and a man. They probably forgave him and just chalked it all up to the King being very charitable, but I imagine Gwen wasn’t so lucky.

What Arthur did, taking back someone his people probably despised, was actually very brave. Arthur cared more about Gwen than he cared about his reputation or becoming the King everyone expected him to be. He forgave and married a woman his people didn’t approve of, a woman who was clearly his weakness and who had nothing to offer Camelot in the eyes of others. Arthur believed in equality and in Gwen. He knew he needed Gwen and that she’d make a good Queen. He also knew that he would be stronger with her, since he couldn’t force himself to marry anyone else, and a lonely King is not a good King. Marrying Gwen was for the good of his people too, but it would’ve been much easier, perhaps better, had he married an ally. Imagine the excitement of his people had Arthur married someone like Mithian. Camelot was in shambles and Mithian would’ve given them hope since her father could’ve supported the rebuilding of Camelot. Instead, he married Gwen...

Also, people who think Arthur banishing Gwen was the worst thing he could’ve done forget that she no longer had any future in Camelot after cheating on the King. Most people would’ve scorned her or mistreated her... If not killed or banished, she would’ve had to be fired from the palace. But who would’ve hired her? The people of Camelot loved their King, who would’ve hired the woman who betrayed him and made a fool of him? Certainly nobody with good intentions. Sure, some would’ve stood by Gwen, but not many. Leaving Camelot wasn’t necessarily for the worst. The one thing that annoys me is that Arthur didn’t offer Gwen money, a horse, or a place to live. In his defense, he was pretty shaken by everything and she didn’t ask. I 100% believe he would’ve done so had she asked. What’s more appalling is that neither her brother nor Merlin actually helped her. Merlin just watched her go... Bad writing, I tell you.

TL;DR: If the Lancelot Du Lac episode proved one thing it’s how much Arthur actually loves Gwen and how good he is deep down. He did not feel humiliated by Gwen at all, not even that angry - just betrayed, sad, hurt, lonely. He didn’t banish Gwen because he couldn’t stand to look at her or to save face - he even apologized for the decision he had to make. He wasn’t trying to hurt her. I wouldn’t hold what he did against him. (He should’ve sent men out to look for her though...)

#bbc merlin #bbc arwen #arwen #bbc arthur #bbc gwen #arthur pendragon #gwen

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livtries · 2 years

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PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU can you please write a erik lehnsherr x reader where reader tries to hide a kitten she saw outside from erik. thank you <33

“surprise?” || e.l

this is such a cute topic omg thank you anon for requesting this <3

please, if you have any more ideas, let me know!! i am having major major writer’s block.

pairing || erik lehnsherr x fem!reader

word count || 668

summary || reader is walking home only to find a stray kitten waiting on her doorstep…

warnings || none!

you had been at the library all day. it truly was the only place you were able to get anything done. the atmosphere was so comforting and much more enjoyable than your empty apartment.

your boyfriend erik was rarely home during weekdays, and to tell the truth, you got lonely often.

you’d proposed the idea of some sort of pet, but erik didn’t seem too keen on the idea. you’d always loved animals and would love to have one. preferably a cat, just because they were a little less maintenance than a dog…

you were making your way home from the library, and you’d chosen to walk because the weather was so nice. you were walking up to your apartment, and heard a small noise.

*mewh*

you took out the one earbud you had in, and looked around. at first, you saw nothing. you looked a little closer at the bushes surrounding the steps into the complex and saw a little orange and white flash of fur. that must’ve been what was making all that noise…

you bent down to pick up the kitten, against your better judgement -- although you knew your conscience wouldn’t let you sleep if you’d left the small animal outside in the weather.

you’d looked the small kitten over a few times, and they looked to be okay. no fleas, no wounds, just very hungry. you gave the cat some water, and ran to the store quickly to get some food.

you came back to find the kitten exploring your apartment, and settling down in the middle of you and eriks bed.

then, it hit you. your boyfriend was on his way home from work and had no idea what waited for him at home… part of you thought it was funny. you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he saw the kitten. the other part of you was unsure if you wanted to tell him. truthfully, you lived together and deserved a say in what went on in your shared home…

you expected him home any minute, and you had figure out a way to hide the kitten from erik…

you’d found a hiding spot for the kitten where they wouldn’t get into trouble or get hurt, and almost on queue, erik walked through the door.

“hi, lovely,” he set his things down on the kitchen table before coming to greet you.

“hi, baby,” you hugged and kissed him hello, and he went about his normal routine. showering, changing into comfy clothes and starting dinner, which you did together.

the kitten seemed to have slipped your mind when you opened the spare bedroom door, and the kitten came running out while erik was changing into pajamas.

he’d brushed off the noises coming from the kitchen, but it became hard when they didn’t stop.

he came out of the bedroom in different clothes, a worried look on his face.

you were there, on the floor with the kitten in your arms, trying your best to act as if you didn’t know why or how to kitten had gotten into the apartment.

“... where’d that come from?” erik walked over to you, offering you a helping hand up from the floor.

“i… don’t know,” you lied, a grin threatening to overtake your face.

“i think you do…” he chuckled a bit, before setting his sights on the small kitten in your arms.

you sighed, “the kitten was meowing in the bushes, erik! how could i not take him in?” you walked a bit closer to erik with the kitten, and erik smiled a little bit.

“you know, i think a pet would do us well,” he said, whilst taking the kitten into his arms. you watched as the kitten snuggled up into eriks neck, and your heart immediately melted.

“tomorrow’s saturday. we can go shopping tomorrow to get some things, huh?” erik proposed and you agreed.

“now, we’ve only got to pick a name out,” you mentioned and erik smiled at you.

a/n || i absolutely love this wow. soft boyfriend erik is one of my favorite things tbh

#erik lehnsherr #erik lensherr x reader #erik lehnsherr x fem!reader #magneto #x-men #x-men fanfiction #charles xavier #james mcavoy #charles xavier x reader #magneto x reader

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

Text

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 59: Human Nature

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 9 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: scary situation, blood and gore, violence, mild swearing, tad bit steamy ❧ Word Count: 7.3k (I got carried away)

❧ In This Chapter: It's been a month since the failed run in D.C., and since then, Rick has spearheaded a major repair of a nearby bridge, recruiting Saviors to help despite the bad blood. Still, Daryl's temper lands him in hot water when he gets into a fight with a particularly antagonistic Savior. Problems continue as Aaron suffers a severe injury.

❧ A/N: Spoiler alert (I mean if you're reading this you've probably already watched the show lol but still), this covers the episode where Aaron loses his arm. So sad. Also, it is not lost on me that both Daryl and Reader have older brothers who lost their left hands, which is very morbidly funny to me. Anyway, there's also some Reader and Daryl cuteness/sauciness in here to make up for it so it's not too hard to read. Oh, and we love the scene with Aaron and Daryl on the bridge bein' cute little dads (kind of). So cute. They are the best boys.

The cool morning sun was just beginning to pour through the blinds in your bedroom. You shivered a little, pulling the several layers of blankets closer to your face and clinging to them tightly. November was always such a chilly month in Virginia, though it was one of your favorites, with its frequent cloudy, rainy days and misty mornings.

Half asleep, and aching for more warmth, you flipped yourself over to snuggle into Daryl’s warm chest, but he wasn’t there.

Curious, you thought. Daryl had been sleeping in a lot more whenever he did sleep, ever since he came home with you a month ago, and relinquished control of the Sanctuary to Carol.

Then, the scent of bacon wafted through the air, accompanied by the sound of sizzling, and you smiled to yourself, knowing he was just downstairs making breakfast.

Still, you were cold, and lonely. Being pregnant seemed to make you even needier than usual, and all you wanted was to be around Daryl.

“Good morning,” you yawned as you walked into the kitchen, a fluffy blanket wrapped around your body.

Daryl turned to look at you as he cracked an egg over the pan. “‘Mornin’,” he said, then turned back to see his egg had landed on the stove. “Goddamnit,” he muttered angrily.

Amused by his mistake, you looked over his shoulder and giggled at the sad little egg, splattered on the surface of the ceramic stove. “Oh, baby,” you said sweetly as you rested your chin on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his waist.

He hung his head in shame. “That was the last egg,” he said. “Was gonna fry it up for ya. Kept breakin’ ‘em all mornin’.”

You sighed. Daryl was never great at eggs. He was too rough with them, and he never properly learned how to crack them so they always ended up with shells. Still, you didn’t mind. It’s the thought that counts.

“Eggs are overrated,” you said before kissing his cheek and squeezing his sides. “How about we make those famous Dixon blueberry pancakes, huh? Those are your specialty.”

He looked at you with a small half-smile. “That what ya want, baby?”

You clasped your hands around his face and pulled his lips to yours, leaving a short kiss followed by an exaggerated, “mwah” sound.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “I want something sweet, and you’re the best at sweet things.”

You’d only been pregnant for a month, but Daryl was already having a hard time keeping up with your cravings. The first week or so, anything sweet made you nauseous, and meat was the only thing you would eat. He could do that, he practically lived on meat himself. Then, you went off the meat for a few weeks and only ate rice and beans. This week, you were back on the meat, so Daryl was making bacon. He supposed you must’ve wanted meat and sweets now.

“Still want the bacon?” he asked, gesturing to the plate sitting by the stove, covered with a greasy paper towel and emanating a lovely aroma.

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Yes, and pancakes. I’ll help you make them.”

You turned to bend down and rummage through the cabinets for pots and pans, but Daryl quickly stopped you, grabbing your waist and pulling you away.

“Nope, no way,” he said. “You sit down. Ain’t havin’ ya strain yourself. I’ll make ‘em myself.”

“Oh, it’s just pancakes!” you laughed. “I’m barely even pregnant, I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head. “Nah, sit. That’s an order.”

You rolled your eyes, but kissed him nevertheless. “Okay, boss.”

Daryl got to work making the pancake batter, with fresh blueberries from the garden and flour from Hilltop.

You sat and watched from the little dining table, where Daryl had already set up plates for you and him. Daryl didn’t always make breakfast for you, a lot of times he was too busy to even eat breakfast by himself, but when he was home, he tried to do it at least once for you.

Watching him effortlessly throw together the batter, which he had done so many times at this point that he had his own little process, you admired how good he was to you, and how he’d do anything to make you happy. He’d been proving it already within the last month, always making sure you were well-fed and well-rested. At the first meeting with Siddiq regarding your pregnancy, he’d informed you and Daryl that you needed to be in tip-top shape to have a healthy pregnancy, and that eating well and getting enough rest would be paramount to ensuring the health of the baby and you.

After all, pregnancy was essentially like having a little parasite inside of you. Though you didn’t think of it that way, biologically, that little month-old bundle of cells was going to start taking up a lot of your nutrients, and you needed to fuel your body to be up to the task.

Daryl cut off your thoughts when he used a spatula to fling a few pancakes onto your plate, and then a few slices of bacon. Then, he brought over plenty of homemade butter and syrup to accompany your meal, as well as a large glass of orange juice.

“Thanks, sweetie,” you said.

He crossed back over to the counter and served himself up a handful of bacon. “Don’ mention it,” he said, then returned to the table to sit across from you. “Gotta make sure you’re eatin’ good. Doctor’s orders.”

You didn’t hesitate to cut up a large bite of pancake, drenched in maple syrup. “Mmm,” you hummed, then swallowed the sweet, buttery, blueberry-infused goodness. “Wonderful as usual, cutie pie.”

He grunted in agreement, using his fork to sneak a few pieces from your plate and tossing them in his mouth. “Real good,” he said, then pointed his fork at your plate. “Now eat that bacon. You need the iron.”

You shook your head before picking up a piece and taking a bite out of it. Daryl had also been reading up on pregnancy, and he was now almost annoyingly informed about the process, but you mostly appreciated his involvement.

“You know,” you began, “if you’re leaving again to work on the bridge today, I’m not going to have anyone to make sure I’m getting my iron.”

Daryl had been helping out with Rick’s pet project, rebuilding the bridge that had given out around the time you went on the run into D.C., and he’d return home every few days, but it still seemed like no matter what, Daryl was busy doing something for others. He was good like that, trying to help out in the community, and supporting Rick, even when he didn’t agree with him.

Daryl wasn’t particularly keen on the bridge idea, half because he didn’t think it was worth the potential dangers, and half because he just wanted to stay home with you, and maybe do some hunting, but other than that, he didn’t want to leave Alexandria, where his most important responsibilities (aka, you and his unborn child) were.

He huffed, knowing that you were using your ability to sway him with your words to do your bidding. “You want me to stay?” he asked.

You shrugged as you finished chewing your bacon. “Of course,” you said. “But I know you can’t. That bridge is important.”

“Ain’t as important as you,” he corrected.

You smiled sweetly. “Well, thanks, but my point is that you should go back. I’m just going to miss you a whole lot, that’s all.”

He sighed. He was going to miss you, too. In fact, he was worried sick about leaving you alone the last few times he had to work on the bridge for a couple of days. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you to take care of yourself, but rather that he just liked to have some semblance of control over things, to feel like he was keeping you safe.

“I’ll miss ya too,” he said. “Won’t be gone long. Rick’s pushin’ them workers hard, might be able to get the bridge done sooner. Hope it’ll be done ‘fore the baby gets here.”

You nodded. “Me too. I can’t take both you and Aaron there.”

Of course, being the nice guy that he was, Aaron stepped up to help too. At least they both came back together, so you had both of them for a while when they visited, but it just wasn’t the same as having them there all the time.

A thought occurred to you then, but it was certainly going to be a tough sell. “How about I go back with you and Aaron today? Help out at the bridge camp?”

He clanged his fork against the plate as he dropped it and shook his head vehemently. “No, no way. Ain’t happenin’. You’re stayin’ here where you’re safe. Out there, in the middle of the woods… That ain’t good for ya.”

You tilted your head. “Daryl, there are plenty of armed guards, and enough people drawing away herds to keep that place safe for months. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be doing anything strenuous. Just thought I’d help out around the camp, make food for the workers. Most of all, I just don’t want to be alone.”

He huffed, staring back at you and becoming lost in those doe eyes. He simply couldn’t say no to you, and he did sympathize with you. Though you had lots of friends in Alexandria, all of the most important people to you were going to be at that bridge, helping out. Of course, Maggie and the Hilltop weren’t going to be there, on account of having executed Gregory a month prior, an event which only added to an even more tense relationship between Maggie and Rick. Still, your family was there.

“I don’t know, (Y/N),” he said with a slow shake of his head and a deep breath. “If somethin’ happened to you, to the baby… I couldn’t live with it. When you’re home, I know you’re safe.”

You shook your head. “No,” you said. “I’m safe when I’m with you. You’re my home, Daryl. Please, let me go with you. I promise to be careful.”

He was silent for a while, but when he spoke again, he relented. “You ain’t goin’ on the bike,” he said. “You’re goin’ in the truck with Aaron, and you ain’t leavin’ the camp. I want ya where I can see ya at all times, ya hear me?”

You squealed and jumped up from your seat, running around the table to Daryl and planting yourself on his lap before kissing him. “Oh, thank you! I love you so much! This is going to be great, I can write down all the events in my journal, maybe even take some pictures of the bridge with that camera you got me. For the records.”

He grimaced in mock pain as you smooched every square inch of his face. “All right, all right,” he said with a laugh in his voice. “Don’t get too excited. Lots of asshole Saviors on the bridge crew. Don’t want ya anywhere near ‘em. Justin’s there.”

You sighed and stopped kissing him. “I’m sure Rick has it under control,” you said, not entirely believing your own statement. Rick hadn’t been, in yours and Daryl’s opinion, the best leader as of late. He had lost sight of a lot of things since Carl’s death, and he was trying desperately to unite people who just didn’t want anything to do with what he was trying to build. Some of the Saviors were getting along, but a lot of them were just causing problems, not wanting to follow Rick’s rules. It was getting messy, and the joining of forces for the construction of the bridge was only making things more tense.

“And I’m sure we can handle them,” you said, combing your fingers through his silky hair. “I just can’t wait to see you getting your hands dirty. I always did have a thing for construction workers.”

He was going to say something snarky, but you cut him off by kissing him again, this time with much more passion and an open mouth that begged for him. Adjusting yourself on his lap, you reached down to rub him over his jeans, but he slowly, reluctantly, removed your hand, and leaned away from your hungry kiss.

“Gotta leave soon,” he said. “Already later than I said I’d be back.” He nudged your nose with his. “Go get dressed, crazy woman.”

You pouted. “Oh, but Daryl,” you said, “can’t we do something really quick? I’m… very horny,” you said, almost embarrassed of your admission.

He raised an eyebrow. “Ain’t we been screwin’ every night this month?”

“Well, every night you’re home,” you said, as if it was obvious that that wasn’t enough for how easily aroused you would get lately.

He shook his head with a smile. “Man, pregnant women are hard to please.” He trailed his hand from your cheek down to your breast, where he gently massaged it, causing you to close your eyes and moan sweetly.

“Mmm, that feels nice,” you said. Your breasts had been getting more swollen and tender by the day with all the hormones running wild inside of you. Daryl had not missed the opportunity to massage the aching tissue every chance he could get. “Just a little?” you asked sweetly.

He threw his head back with a groan. “You’re killin’ me, princess,” he said. “Tell ya what, you go get ready to go to camp, and tonight I’ll give ya whatever ya want in my tent, sound good?”

You snuggled into his shoulder. “Fine,” you said. “Sorry for being so demanding.”

He pulled away to look at you. “Girl, I ain’t complainin’. Nothin’ better than doin’ it with my old lady, but right now I gotta get to that bridge, so if you’re comin’ then get a move on.” He gave you a light pat to your ass. “Come on,” he said, beginning to lift you up off of him. “‘Fore ya give me a hard-on.”

Once you were packed and dressed, it was time to hit the road to the camp that the bridge crew was using as a base for construction. Just as Daryl said, you rode with Aaron in the truck, behind Daryl as he led you on his bike.

“So, names,” Aaron said, keeping an eye on the road as he drove. “We’ve got to start talking about names.”

You laughed. “No,” you said. “Too early. This baby’s not even a fetus yet. I mean, I hate to say it, but who knows. Something could happen. My book says that miscarriages are most common in the first trimester, and—”

“(Y/N),” Aaron said seriously, looking at you with a straight face. “Don’t even think about that. You’re taking your prenatals, Daryl’s doting on you, Siddiq’s got you coming in for weekly check ups… The baby’s going to be fine.”

You huffed. “Well, it could’ve been an issue with the implanting. If the pregnancy is ectopic, or something just didn’t go right…” You trailed off when Aaron gave you another look. “Okay. Sorry, I just don’t want to get my hopes up. Daryl’s already so excited about this baby, too, so I’m worried about getting him worried.”

“Isn’t he reading the books too?”

“Yes,” you said. “But it’s weird, once he knows I’m worried, that sends him over the edge. I don’t know why.”

Aaron laughed. “It’s because you’re his strength, (Y/N). You keep him… light. So quit being a worrywart and tell me your name ideas.”

You sighed. “Okay. Don’t make fun of me, though.”

“I won’t,” he said, fully intending on making fun of you if you came up with some ridiculous name ideas. “Let’s hear ‘em.”

You leaned down to reach into your bag between your legs, and Aaron eyed your sudden movement. He shook his head when he saw you pull out a neatly written list of baby names. “Jesus Christ, (Y/N),” he said. “Thought you weren’t getting your hopes up?”

You elbowed him in the side. “Shut up. We had too many names, needed to write them down. That baby name book is huge.”

Aaron removed one hand from the steering wheel and gestured for you to read them.

“Okay, do you want boy or girl names first? And do you want middle names, too?”

“Boy,” he said. “And yes.”

You cleared your throat before you began to read. “First on our list is… Milo.”

Aaron smiled, trying to hold back a laugh. “What?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing… It’s just… Well, didn’t we have a dog named Milo?”

Your eyes widened. “We did?”

He burst into laughter. “Yes! Little Jack Russell. He was a shithead, too. Always jumping on me. You don’t remember?”

You shook your head. “I think I was too young, but I’m not naming my son after a dog.” You reached for your pen in your pack and crossed off the name. “I’m just gonna read off the others at once.” You took a deep breath. “Jasper, Arthur, Ian, Oliver, August, Quinn, Elliot, Roy, Perry, and Owen, after Dad. Some I’m thinking more for middle names.”

He nodded as he processed the list. “Solid list,” he said. “Lots of old man names in there.”

“Shut up,” you said. “I’m not good with boys’ names.”

“So, I’m assuming you suggested all those names then?”

You huffed. “You want to hear the names Daryl suggested, right?”

He chuckled. “Oh, that’d be spectacular.”

You shook your head and began reading off the three names Daryl wanted to put on the list. “Ozzy, Iggy, and…” You took a deep breath. “Harley.”

Aaron looked at you with wide eyes, then burst into another hearty laugh. “Oh, man. I really hope you don’t have a boy.”

“At least they’re interesting,” you said. “But I don’t know if I want to name my son after Ozzy Osbourne or Iggy Pop, or a motorcycle.”

“Well, I think I like… Oliver Iggy Dixon, or Jasper Owen Dixon. It’d be nice to have Dad’s name in there.”

“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement. “I was also thinking about naming him Daryl Junior, but Daryl hated that idea.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

You hit his shoulder. “Daryl is a fine name! You know, it’s French, and means ‘beloved.’ Isn’t that adorable?”

He shook his head. “Get to the girls’ names please, before I throw up.”

“All right, all right. Ahem… Iris, Penelope, Ada, Daisy, Agatha, Frances, Eleanor, Sybil, Astrid, Harper, Lily, Rosalie… Tell me when to stop. I have a much longer list for girls’ names.”

“Well, I know Frances is after Grandma,” he said. “Lots of flower names in there, as to be expected from you. Agatha is for Agatha Christie and Sybil is from The Picture of Dorian Gray, I’m assuming. I think I like Daisy. It’s got the alliteration thing, Daisy Dixon. Maybe Daisy Frances Dixon? Or Daisy Eleanor Dixon?”

You shook your head as you looked down at your list. “I don’t know. None of them have that spark to it, you know? None of them seem… right. It’s got to be something understated, but unique, and it has to flow together. Plus, Daryl seems ambivalent towards most of them. I want something he likes, too. He couldn’t even think of any girls’ names.”

Aaron shrugged. “Maybe something will come up naturally. Just from everyday stuff. You’ve got plenty of time.”

When you got to the camp, you were surprised to see how well-built it was. There were tents everywhere, with guard posts all around and even a little outhouse. From the outset, it looked quite homey.

Daryl took you to his tent first thing to drop off your stuff. Just as you expected, the tent was made from scratch, with waterproof canvas and thin tree logs as tent poles.

There was a small cot towards the back that looked like it had barely been slept in, but it looked quite cozy. He even had a little bedside table and a lantern, along with a chest to put his clothes in.

“This is nice,” you said as you put your pack down by the chest. “Just like old times.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, like back at the farm?”

You rubbed his shoulders and pressed your chest against his. “Mhm,” you hummed, and he rested his hands on your waist. “Remember, our first night together, when you first made love to me?”

He huffed, trying not to remember too vividly in order to not get himself worked up in the middle of the day. “‘Course I remember it. One of the best nights of my life. Ain’t ever gonna forget it.”

You closed your eyes and leaned forward to kiss him, but he only kissed your cheek. “Not now, baby,” he said. “Get yourself comfortable, lay down and take a nap if you wanna. I gotta help out at the bridge ‘fore Rick rips me a new one.” He kissed your other cheek, then lifted your chin to look at your disappointed face. You hated how needy you were being, but it was almost like you couldn’t help it, like all you wanted was Daryl’s attention. Still, you knew he had work to do, and that he was needed elsewhere, no matter how much you wanted him to yourself. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said. “You need me, I'll be at the bridge. Aaron’s gonna be there, too. We ain’t far.”

You nodded. “Is Carol here?” you asked.

“Sure is,” he said. “You should go see ‘er. She’s been askin’ about you and the baby. Woman won’t stop houndin’ me, makin’ sure I take care of ya.”

“Aww,” you said. “She knows you take care of me. She’s just teasing you, cutie pie. You’re fun to tease.” You kissed his nose, to which he grimaced in faux displeasure. “Go on now, Bob the Builder. I’ll come by later and make sure you’re working up a sweat.”

Shortly after Daryl headed to the bridge, you left the tent to go find Carol, who was already running up to you with a big smile when you did find her. “(Y/N)!” she cried jovially before giving you a big bear hug. “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you, hon.”

You smiled over her shoulder. “Thanks, Carol. I see Daryl wasn’t lying when he said he was going to tell everyone.”

She pulled away and laughed. “He’s so proud. He’s trying to pretend like it’s no big deal, but I can just hear the excitement in his voice. You’re going to be parents!”

“I know! I still can’t believe it.”

“Hey,” she said, turning around to clear a space from one of the folding chairs in front of her tent. “Sit with me.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking her offer.

“So,” she sighed as she sat across from you, “you here for a few days?”

“Mhm,” you replied. “Well, until the bridge is done. Daryl said Rick’s got everyone working hard so it should be done soon.”

Carol nodded. “Yeah, but lots of our Savior workers are going on strike.” You frowned at that. “I think they’re just fed up with having to work with us and not getting enough food from the Hilltop to keep them going.”

“Maybe he could talk to Maggie,” you said. “Get her to send a bigger shipment. That could help morale.”

Carol sighed. “I don’t know, (Y/N). Maggie doesn’t even like the idea of working with the Saviors, let alone feeding them. That’s why she hasn’t sent anyone from Hilltop to help. Things just aren’t like they used to be. Everyone’s… split.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “The world’s getting more and more complicated again. It was always going to happen, though. It’s just human nature.”

“Well, Rick told me this morning that Michonne was heading to Hilltop to talk to Maggie. Maybe they can work something out. In the meantime, we’ve got a lot of grumpy Saviors.”

That was an understatement.

On the bridge, Daryl and Aaron were lowering the last floor beam needed to solidify the deck, and Aaron was doing what he usually did: talk. This time, he was going on and on about his adopted daughter, Gracie (yours and Daryl’s infant niece), and his misadventures in navigating parenthood.

“So,” he sighed, “I go in after her nap, and pick her up, and the diaper just… explodes all over me.” He gestured to his chest to explain more visually.

Daryl listened as he placed a nail in his teeth and picked up his hammer. “Sounds like good times,” he mumbled.

“Oh, the best,” Aaron confirmed, beginning to hammer his nail into the beam as well. “You’ll see.”

Daryl looked at him with a crooked grimace, then shook his head as he returned to his work.

“What?” Aaron asked. “You’re gonna make a great dad.”

“Yeah,” Daryl replied, somewhat sarcastically. Though he had made a point to inform everyone at the camp whom he cared for about the pregnancy, he was still nervous talking to Aaron about it.

Though he considered Aaron amongst his best friends, he still saw him first and foremost as your brother, and by definition, his brother-in-law. Even the notion that the two of you had sex was something Daryl preferred to keep away from Aaron, out of courtesy.

But still, he supposed the baby was going to be Aaron’s niece or nephew, so it made sense how excited he was, and Daryl was trying his best to entertain him.

“I still can’t believe (Y/N)’s going to have a baby,” Aaron continued, shaking his head with a smile as he looked down at his work. “I wish my dad was here, just so I could see the look on his face. He always wanted grandkids.”

Daryl huffed, chewing on his lip and nervously grabbing another nail. “Yeah,” he said. “Jus’ hope everything goes right… with the pregnancy.”

Aaron looked up at him and wiped his brow with his forearm. “It will,” he said with a nod.

He knew from prior conversations that Daryl was worried about something happening to you, like with Lori when she died giving birth to Judith. It terrified Aaron, too, but he also tried to reassure Daryl that Alexandria was much better equipped to deal with pregnancy and childbirth than your group was at the prison. There were doctors, people who had been trained to deliver babies, equipment scavenged from nearby hospitals, and generators to power them. You already were much luckier than Lori.

“It’s like I said,” he continued. “(Y/N)’s in good hands, and she’s healthy, strong. The baby’s gonna be healthy and strong, too.”

Daryl nodded, comforted by Aaron’s words. “I know,” he said. “But I ain’t gonna stop worryin’.”

Aaron patted Daryl on the shoulder. “That’s what being a dad is all about. Worrying. See, you’re already great at it.”

Daryl raised his head and shared a small smile with Aaron, who was a better brother to him than his own brother ever was.

The moment was cut short with a thud from the other side of the bridge. Aaron and Daryl looked up to see that Justin had pushed Henry, the young boy from the Kingdom whom Carol and Ezekiel had adopted, onto the ground.

From context clues, Daryl garnered that Henry was doing his rounds, carrying a water jug and allowing each worker to pour themselves a cup. Now Justin was holding that jug overhead and pouring the water directly into his mouth. The asshole never liked following rules.

Daryl and Aaron began rising to their feet, making sure Justin wouldn’t hurt the child again.

Instead, Henry rose up from the ground and used his fighting stick to trip Justin, causing him to fall.

“Back off!” the boy said between his teeth.

A raucous burst of laughter exploded amongst the group, most of whom found the situation quite humorous.

“What was that?” you asked, hearing the loud thud of Justin’s body hitting the deck, and then the hearty laughter coming from the bridge.

Carol shrugged. “I don’t know. Why don’t you go see? You said you wanted to watch Daryl work, anyway.”

You stood up from your seat and made your way to the bridge, passing by a few familiar faces from Alexandria and the Kingdom on the way there.

The moment you set foot on the road before the bridge, you saw Daryl grabbing Justin’s arm as he was about to storm off in the direction of the boy.

“Hey!” you heard him say to the man. “Kid’s just doin’ his job. Get back to work.” He glowered at Justin, and was much too close to him, with his chest puffed up, than you liked, so you stepped a little closer with your arms crossed over your chest.

“I don’t need you people telling me what to do,” Justin replied. “You’re not my babysitter anymore.”

Just then, Daryl brusquely grabbed Justin’s arm as he began to walk away, making him turn around and swing his clenched fist at Daryl’s face. You flinched when he struck, but the blow never landed, as Daryl quickly dodged his hit and punched him in the nose with so much force that Justin was thrown back and landed on a large pile of sand.

You were already beginning to jog your way over when Justin flung a handful of sand in Daryl’s face, then tackled him to the ground.

“Hey, stop!” you yelled, but the plea fell on deaf ears as Daryl lifted himself up and began to fight back, now with the two men throwing punches at each other. “Goddamnit, Daryl!” you yelled, mostly to yourself, then began running back towards the camp to find Rick. You weren’t about to get yourself in the middle of the fight, but Rick was in charge (and he wasn’t pregnant), so you decided to try to find him.

Carol saw you running through the camp, and quickly stopped you with a grip on your shoulders. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Fight on the bridge,” you panted. “Where’s Rick?”

Just then, Rick and Eugene emerged from the woods. “(Y/N),” he said. “What are you doin’ here?” He must’ve not gotten the memo that you had arrived.

You swallowed hard. “Daryl and Justin are fighting on the bridge,” you said, and Rick and Eugene immediately followed you there.

As you grew closer to the bridge, the sound of cheering and jeering grew louder, and soon you noticed that the workers had formed a ring around Daryl and Justin, and were either tremendously entertained by the fight, or yelling at them to stop.

Aaron had even joined in, fighting off another former Savior, Jed, who was trying to help Justin.

Great, you thought. My brother’s an idiot, and my husband’s an even bigger idiot.

“Hey! Hey!” Rick yelled as he ran forward. “Break it up!” You both pushed through the crowd, with Rick continuing to yell at them. “Break it up right now!”

Justin threw a hard hit at Daryl’s face, and you wanted nothing more than to kick that asshole in the balls, but you stayed back as Rick yelled at you. “I got this, (Y/N!)” he yelled, and you nodded as you stepped back.

Rick jumped in between the two enraged men as Daryl tried to get at Justin once again, but Rick pushed him back, and Justin was being held back now by a few other men.

“I said enough!” Rick yelled. “Enough,” he reiterated to Daryl, who then wiped his mouth before spitting out a stream of blood which made your head swim with worry.

Daryl stormed off the bridge towards the camp, and Rick called a meeting with him and Carol immediately after, but you were going to be waiting for him in his tent when he was done, fully intending on giving him an earful.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you asked him. “Aren’t you ever going to get tired of fighting? Aren’t you forty years old, Daryl Dixon?! I swear, sometimes you act like such a shithead little kid! I can’t believe you were fighting like that. You could have gotten yourself killed with the way that jerk was acting, or you could have killed him and gotten ripped apart by the other Saviors!”

“That asshole swung first!” he yelled back, pacing around the tent. “Pushed a little kid, too. Was about to beat him up if I didn’t do somethin’.”

You folded your arms over your chest. “Well, you didn’t have to get physical. You should have just used your words.”

“Words ain’t enough for douchebags like that,” he said. “Only thing they understand is fightin’.”

You shook your head and grimaced at him. “All I know is you better start figuring out how to control yourself,” you said sternly. “I don’t want you ever acting like that in front of our child.”

He froze and looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “You think I’d do that?” he asked quietly.

You closed your eyes and sighed, rubbing your eyes with your hands. “No, I didn’t mean that. I know you wouldn’t, but you scare me sometimes.”

He lowered his head, letting his messy hair cover his face. “Would never hurt our baby,” he said. “Or you.”

You frowned and went over to him to lift his head by his cheeks. “I know,” you said. “I know you’d never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. Mostly I just hate seeing you get hurt.”

He scoffed. “That asshole didn’t hurt me. I’m tougher than him.”

You rolled your eyes and snorted as you checked his face to make sure he wasn’t too hurt. Justin got in a few good punches but not enough to give Daryl a black eye or make his nose bleed, which you were thankful for.

“You’re too tough for your own good,” you said. “Do you have any idea how scared I was?”

“Sorry,” he said. “Won’t do it no more. Promise. No more fightin’.”

“Good,” you said before leaving a kiss on his forehead. “You’re getting too old for that.”

He pinched your side. “Shut up.”

Daryl returned to working shortly after that, this time with Aaron and a handful of other men in a clearing in the nearby woods that was being used as a labor site, where trees were chopped down and prepared for use in the bridge.

There, Daryl was sawing off some branches, and Aaron was helping pile up logs, pushing one up the ramp with the help of Jed, who was holding the rope it was tethered to.

Soon, a commotion broke out amongst the mules, and Daryl stopped his work to find a few walkers coming his way, which he quickly put down with a severed branch.

Then, he saw the herd coming.

“A herd’s comin’!” he yelled to the others. “Bug out, now!”

“Oh, Jesus,” said Jed, looking at the herd as he held the rope. “We gotta the hell out of here.” In a panic, he let go of the rope holding the heavy log, and it would have hit the man helping Aaron if he hadn’t pushed him away.

“Look out!” cried Aaron, and the pain of what he felt after that was the worst he’d ever experienced. He cried out in a strained groan as his left arm was pinned to the ground by the log.

Daryl couldn’t hear the screams at first, on account of him having to put down several walkers, but when he did, he turned to see Aaron writhing in immense pain.

He dropped his stick and went immediately over to Aaron. “Get them mules out of here!” he yelled to one of the other workers as he ran to help Aaron. “You!” he screamed at Jed, who seemed to be more intent on running away than helping. “Get over here, right now!”

As Daryl, Jed, and another man tried to lift the log from Aaron’s arm, the herd began closing in them, and the whole scene gave Daryl an eerie reminder of that day he was trapped in the car with Aaron, and he almost gave his life to save him.

“Go!” Aaron yelled. “Get out of here! Go!”

He was in the most pain he’d ever experienced in his life, and he pretty much already accepted that he was going to die, but he wasn’t going to let Daryl die for him. He wasn’t going to do that in the car, and he wasn’t going to do that now, especially knowing he needed to be there for you more than ever.

“Keep on him,” Daryl said to the other men as he raised to his feet and pulled out two knives, both he used to plunge into the nearest walkers’ heads before turning back to help Aaron again.

Jed had managed to wedge a sledgehammer underneath the log, and was making progress lifting it off of Aaron. When the log was lifted enough, Daryl pulled Aaron by the shoulder out from underneath the weight of the tree.

Daryl had seen a lot of blood and gore in his life, but the skinned and bloody arm of his friend, his brother, was unlike anything he’d seen before. Aaron looked dumbfounded and frightened at the injured arm, and Daryl didn’t waste another minute before beginning to sling Aaron around his shoulder and lifting him up.

“Come on,” he said, trying to get Aaron to help maneuver his body weight. “Get up!”

He began to trudge along with Aaron, trying to escape the incoming herd. “Come on,” he continued to say to Aaron. “You’re gonna be just fine,” he said, as if trying to convince himself.

Just then, a walker grabbed Daryl’s shoulder, and came dangerously close to taking a bite out of him when Beatrice, one of the women from Oceanside, shot an arrow through its skull.

The rest of the crew appeared shortly after her, with you looking wide-eyed at Aaron’s arm.

“Aaron!” you shouted, your voice breaking as you began to cry. You ran over to him and Daryl. “Oh my god! What happened?!”

Daryl panted as he helped Aaron move. “No time!”

You led the two of them back to the camp while the others continued to fight off the herd.

As you moved with them, you tied your flannel overshirt around his arm, and cried profusely as you saw the exposed bones and tendons. “Oh, Jesus,” you cried.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Daryl assured you both. “Gotta get him to the medic tent. Siddiq will know what to do.”

You nodded frantically, then pulled the door of the tent open when you got there. To your shock, Siddiq was nowhere to be found. Instead, Enid rushed to her feet. She had been apprenticing for Siddiq, learning medicine and surgery, but she was still so young.

“Where’s Siddiq?!” you asked as Daryl laid Aaron on the closest cot.

Enid ran over to Aaron and began untying the shirt from his arm. “He’s gone, it’s just me,” she said to you.

You huffed and leaned down next to him to better see what had happened. When Enid pulled away your bloody shirt, the arm was even worse than just a few minutes earlier, at least, to you. You covered your mouth in horror, and felt the tears soaking your face and hand.

Enid looked between you and Daryl on either side of her. “I have to amputate,” she said.

“What?” Aaron asked shakily.

Your eyes widened at Daryl, and you couldn’t say anything. You were rendered speechless.

“There ain’t no other way?” Daryl asked desperately.

“The only way to stop the bleeding is to amputate and cauterize the wound,” she replied.

“What?” Aaron asked again, utterly confused by the whole situation. It all happened so fast, and he didn’t even have time to comprehend what had happened to him.

“Here,” Enid said as she handed Daryl a tourniquet, and he began wrapping it tightly around his upper arm, just above where the wound ended.

Aaron grabbed your hand with his good one. “Wait, wait,” he cried.

“Aaron,” you sobbed, trying not to look at his arm. “Y-you’re going to be fine.”

He threw his head back and groaned in agony.

“You got somethin’ for the pain?” Daryl asked Enid gruffly.

“It wouldn’t kick in fast enough,” she said, preparing the knife as fast as she could. “We have to do this now.”

“Sorry, brother,” Daryl said, then looked at you sternly. “(Y/N),” he panted. “Get outta here.”

You gave him a wide-eyed look and shook your head rapidly. “No,” you said, still shaky from crying. “I’ll help hold him down.”

He pulled the tourniquet tighter and looked at you seriously again. “You don’t need to see this,” he said firmly. “Go. I got this.”

You exchanged a look with Aaron, who seemed to be calming down just a little bit, given the circumstances. “Go, (Y/N),” he said. “I love you.”

The rest of that afternoon was a blur. You retreated to Daryl’s tent and did the only thing you knew to do—you cried. You cried so much your face began to hurt, and your eyes were so wet they became dry.

The day’s events had proven stressful beyond comprehension. The bridge, to you, was not worth the blood, sweat, and tears it had caused everyone, and the violence surrounding you was overwhelming.

You knew that was how it was, that the world would always be like this—bloody and complicated and cruel and rife with social conflict, but you still wished, and hoped, and dreamed, that it could be different.

Maybe that was what Rick was trying to create with the bridge, a new, peaceful world. You knew that was what he wanted, and you wanted it, too. Everyone wanted it, except for the Saviors.

You found out from Daryl when he came back to the tent that Justin was indirectly responsible for the herd running through the labor site. He was in charge of redirecting it, but he failed due to his lack of caring. He didn’t tell you that he beat the man with a frying pan, but he felt that would upset you more, and he was ashamed that he already broke his promise to you. Still, the man deserved it.

That evening, when Aaron’s surgery was over and he’d been stabilized, the first thing you and Daryl did was sit by his side until he woke up from his pain-induced slumber.

He woke up with a sharp inhale, and immediately sat up to hold his hand. “Are you awake?” you asked him quietly with a sniffle.

“Unfortunately,” he replied weakly, then looked down at his left arm with one eye open. He let out a quiet groan when he noticed he only had three-quarters of an arm left. “Shit.”

You brushed your other hand over his forehead. “You need anything? More blankets? I can bring you some food.”

“I’m fine,” he said, opening his hazy eyes and looking up at you, then over to Daryl. “I got my family. That’s all I need.”

You smiled weakly at him, a few tears falling over your cheeks. “Enid did good,” you said. “She says you’re gonna be just fine. Except for the, um… arm.”

He closed his eyes and smiled. “Yeah, I figured as much.” He cleared his throat, then opened his eyes at Daryl. “Thanks for saving me.”

“Don’ mention it,” he replied. “Like you said, we’re family.”

“I’ll remember you said that,” Aaron said with a snort, and you couldn’t help but let out a little laugh.

Daryl shook his head. You and your brother were the cheesiest, corniest people he knew, and he should’ve known you wouldn’t let him return the sentiment without a little teasing.

“I’m sure ya will.”

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