#in a big fuckin forest. what all is going to be saved?
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the increasing presence of invasive species and new tree diseases makes me so sad. we've got spotted lanternfly in my park, althought i havent seen it, it's there. We talked about the new beech leaf disease today in our meeting and our park's big old beech tree (most likely from the 1800s) has it. Oak wilt's moving further north because of warming climate zones. Sucks man.
#at least in a lot of cases it's treatable?#like we have an american elm but it's treated for dutch elm#beech leaf might be treatable and i think oak wilt is too but#in a big fuckin forest. what all is going to be saved?#idk. this is why you plant a whole mess of different kinds of trees#so when you have a disease like dutch elm wipe everything out#you still have trees#anyways.#park posting#parks posting
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I'm sorry. Eddie's 15 year old WHAT now???? 🤯🤯
HAHA YEP! YEP!
things happen when you're 21.
and sometimes things are self-described spiritual iconoclasts like mary lee oliver, the professional groupie. eddie met her at an iron maiden gig in chicago, where she told him he had an incredible aura and then said these fated words...
"do you wanna come backstage?"
basically, what you need to understand is that franklin oliver munson was conceived on an iron maiden tour bus, which sounds cool in theory, so eddie's going to keep speaking about it in theory.
but the fact of the matter is, mary lee disappeared off the face of the earth after that night. until about three years later, when eddie had settled in indianapolis working a shitty job at a dive bar that catered to the college student crowd. he got a phone call from mary lee (who had saved his forest hills number, who had been redirected to his current number by wayne) telling him that she'd be passing through town and did he want to meet his son?
just. like. that. casual as a breeze. do you wanna meet your son? we could get some chinese food or something.
mary lee, just as breezy, batted eddie's pleading to help out with kid with a single hand. she wore this crazy expression as she watched him, who'd help create this little lump of coal with the crazy big brown eyes that eddie carried like a genetic curse. like she didn't really care one way or the other.
"i don't really care, one way or the other," she, in fact, said. "i just felt like... the universe was giving me purpose with this little guy, you know? and you, like, don't really have to be part of that if you don't want to? and i think maybe you shouldn't?"
eddie stopped cooing at the kid, which she'd coincidentally called franklin (his mom's maiden name, any of you guys looking for extra credit), for a half a second. "why not?"
"well, you're a little square, eddie."
square, according to mary lee, included wanting to try and forge a relationship with his son, even if they did live in different states-- eddie, still in indiana and mary lee and franklin, wherever the next tour bus took them.
apparently, franklin's formative years were spent at an ayahuasca retreat that mary lee's boyfriend ran. eddie had, again, pleaded that she just keep in contact so he could see how this kid grew up. and also, "anything you need, anything at all, i need you to let me know. okay? there's nothing i won't do for this little guy, mary lee, i swear."
a couple of sporadic letters came through over the years. a phonecall or two when franklin finally got to grips with forming full sentences, but he always sounded distant and confused whenever eddie spoke to him--because eddie was a ghost. he would have bet that his own son couldn't pick him out of a lineup. eddie never meant for it to be that way. he kept asking mary lee, and later frankie, "so when are you comin' out my way?"
"we don't know, eddie. midwest's a little... well, midwest."
but he'd have flown to wherever that kid needed him, if he asked. and if he had the cash.
fast forward to the cresting finality of 1999.
eddie munson's planning on a wedding.
or, okay, thinking about it. thinking about proposing to lacy doevski finally, for real this time, as it seems they've finally stopped digging out the shrapnel of their pasts from their tender flesh and all that.
in a dilapidated house by a lake, there's a bang on the door at three in the morning. he hears a hammer cock before he even feels lacy uncurl from around him.
"wait, hol' on-- don't get hasty with that thing."
"that's what it's for."
"could be a raccoon or som'n'..."
"in your dreams..."
eddie leans out their bedroom window to see a mop of curly, dark hair atop a lanky frame. identical dark eyes stare up at him from the front step.
"shit. i'd apologize for the unsociable hour, but you don't seem to know how to answer your fuckin' phone, dad."
#powder room talk#Anonymous#listen this trend of answering every ask with a blurb...... one day the gladness will end but its not this day#WELCOME TO THE FAMILY FRANKIE#f. munson by powder#e. munson by powder#lulal
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Teen Wolf 1x04
Well, the Alpha (who I’m still guessing is a lost Hale relative) is after her so she’s going to be like bus driver guy, except live because she’s a high enough paid actor that I recognize her face.
Well she’s definitely better prepared than bus driver guy. Another hunter?
So did Scott hear the gunshot because it was near his house or because it was near the Alpha?
Well that answers the hunter question.
Still don’t like the wolf CGI.
But now we have Fuckface and two Argents after the same thing. With luck they’ll all kill each other.
Oh man, Derek. That looks bad. If only you hadn’t been such a fuckface maybe someone would help you with your little problem. Who are we kidding though, Scott’s going to get dragged into this like he has with every single one of Fuckface’s problems. Probably get yelled at and/or attacked for no reason too.
So this episode is very much confirming that Allison knows nothing about the family business. Waiting until she’s older maybe? I wonder if that explains the gymnastics as a kid too, since Auntie Kate also has some moves.
Grades and supernatural shenanigans never seem to go well together. Lord knows Buffy had some hard times. But, like, between school, lacrosse, a job, dating, and shenanigans I can’t imagine he’s got a lot of free time. Or gets a lot of sleep, honestly.
Fuckface vs Douchebag. Fight! Fight! Fight!
Fuckin same, Stiles! Why do we even have this guy?
WHY SHOULD I HELP YOU IS A GOOD FUCKING QUESTION, SCOTT. And I still firmly believe there have to be other werewolves you can find somewhere. Maybe some of them will not actually be assholes.
I’m gonna be honest with you. Like the little kid in The Princess Bride, I’m skipping the kissing part.
Stiles face is a mood every time I see Fuckface.
You should drive him to the Hale house and dump him in the yard.
The green screen behind them is distracting. It keeps switching from suburbs to forest.
Have I mentioned how much I hate Fuckface lately? Because I still do. Literally every interaction with him involves manipulation or violence or is creepy.
Okay, so Kate was definitely involved in the Hale fire.
Still up in the air on whether it was justified. The Argents are a bit too trigger happy, but all evidence points to the Hales being violent, murderous assholes, so…
Is she going to like show him a gymnastics routine?
Ha! Lol. Okay, so first, that tracks with the trigger happy family, but second they were definitely training her in the family business on the sly.
The sign said they’re an international company. I wonder how big the family is and if they’re all hunters?
I still haven’t forgiven Chris for how shooty he was with Scott. But he does make me laugh.
The classical elevator music in the background is really selling this dinner scene. Interesting that they are the only married couple we’ve seen, though Mrs. Argent doesn’t seem to be much of a talker.
“I’m starting to think that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” Starting to think? Starting to think? Scott, please remember this man has been nothing but a manipulative, creepy, violent threat to you and to people you care about. He has literally only helped you with one thing that you probably could have worked out yourself given enough time. You and Stiles don’t owe this guy shit.
What exactly is Fuckface going to do the next time? He certainly didn’t do anything the first time. Scott got called out against his will and still tried to help the bus driver. Fuckface did nothing; he is manipulating you!
Scott, you are both nicer and braver than I for sneaking through Kate’s things. And, oh, she’s gonna notice if you swipe that.
You should have taken a picture and looked it up later. Oh…wait…could his phone even take a picture or is this show set too early for that?
Okay, so the vibe I got from the rabid dog story is that Chris believes what he’s doing is right (as previously said, a good trait in a villain). He thinks that werewolves can’t be good and can’t be saved. That no matter how gentle they were, they will always give into the bite and he can feel pity for them because of that, but won’t hesitate to put them down.
Back to Kafka, Chris thinks once you have been transformed into a monster you can never be anything else.
I do not get that at all from Kate. Honest to god, I think she just likes killing things and doesn’t need much of a reason.
Both can be scary in their own way.
Also, grandfather is clearly also in on the family business.
Poor Scott didn’t get a lot of studying done.
Scott’s parents divorce is confirmed.
Allison is so great. Like, she totally goes after what she wants all of the time. I mean, it sucks for Scott at this particular moment, because she’s not going to have to bear the wrath of her dad, but still. I like that she stands up for herself and Scott.
Scott’s getting better at lying. He used to be really bad, but he actually looked like he had no idea what Kate was talking about. Now Allison definitely looked like she knew what Kate was talking about.
AHAHAHAHA! Allison you slay me.
Stiles, just, like, accidentally slip and shove it through his chest. It’ll be fine. Scott’s help you hide the body and no one will miss him.
Awww, look at Scott being so good under pressure and doing the exacting, delicate thing that needs to be done to save someone who’s been only cruel to him, absolutely flying in the face of everything Chris believes.
You know what, Fuckface deserves more than a punch but I’ll take what I can get.
Well, Scott, Chris would probably shoot you a little, and yet you are still right in that they’re a lot fricken nicer than Fuckface is.
Six years ago and not ten, which is a fairly significant change. Fuckface and Laura at school, so like maybe away at college? Eleven people trapped inside and Peter as the only survivor, which either means an extended family member out for revenge or Peter’s faking it. Or someone else got away and hid from Laura and Fuckface.
Also, the look Fuckface gets when Scott says the Argents had a reason to start the fire is so funny. Like bro, my buddy, my pal, you absolute shitstain of a human being, do you actually think you have represented your family (or werewolves in general) well? All the werewolves he knows have attacked and threatened him and others, murdered people, manipulated him and tried to force him into becoming a murderer like them. Of fucking course he thinks there was probably a reason.
All that he knows about the Argents is that they shot him while probably aiming for you, are weirdly intense, and raised a great daughter who is nice and kind and stands up for him.
“It’s what Allison will do,” insists the lying liar who lies with zero proof of that.
Okay, yup, Auntie Kate is the rogue and Chris can (theoretically) be reasoned with. He’d probably still break your window though. Possibly shoot you non fatally.
#teen wolf#scott mccall#allison argent#episode reaction#stiles stilinski#derek hale#chris argent#kate argent#1x04
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youtube
Brigitte Empire! A writer for the Daily Telegraph and prospective British ex-pat who could use your clicks and attention - and money, if you can afford it! Today, she's unpacking a little of the British Empire's colonial legacy.
And while I have your attention, would you like to talk about why mere gayness is seen as such a threat to colonial power structures?
You exist on Tumblr, you've seen this:
...or maybe this version:
Gayness has been criminalized for so long it's gone memetic, and it's a badge of honour. Alright, you're gonna make my very existence illegal, I'm gonna do whatever I want. Thanks, homophobes!
But if we rewind to Ancient Greece and Rome - some of the original, big-time conquerors of the world - two dudes banging was part of the accepted social structure and no threat. Indeed, if you watch through Brigitte up there, quite a few of those tribal societies grant men or masculine people quite a lot of gender fluidity and sexual freedom. "Male privilege" includes self-determination, even when that extends to kicking traditional masculine ideals to the curb.
At the same time, women and feminine people tend to be ignored and erased, unless they're masculine enough to be parsed as men (that's a compliment!). History is written by the victors, the colonizers, and all of them were patriarchal as hell. Why it shook out that way is fodder for endless speculation - and politicization, depending on whether you prefer to glorify the male penetrative impulse, demonize it, or deconstruct it - but it obviously did and we've been living with the consequences for centuries. As it stands, the queer landscape available for colonial exploitation is incredibly diverse, but the perceived-male aspects of it (including, nonsensically, transwomen) get more play and more flack.
To get out there and start inflicting your diseased culture on everyone else - even if it kills them - you need truly toxic level of self-confidence.
"Cancer? What're you talking about? That's just ME!"
"And, believe me, it's an improvement. Because I'm fuckin' AWESOME! Ego, the Living Planet, will ALWAYS serve you your Blizzard upside down!"
If you think you have the right to yeet other cultures right out of existence and replace them with your own, your culture - alone - must be the best one. If the others have anything worth keeping, you'll add their uniqueness to your own...
Boy, do we like colonizer villains! Kinda scared someone's gonna roll up and feed us our own medicine, aren't we?
...but most of that stuff can go. It's not that you're behaving like cancer cells, it's more like... Pesticide! You want to be Monsanto, and inflict your specific flavour of mutant grass worldwide. Everyone needs to be eating the good stuff. It will save lives. So you need everyone to understand that the ecosystems you're wiping out to plant it are not worth having.
What's that? A "rain forest"? Who needs it?!
The easiest way to do that is to send some explorers and have them explain that the people already living in your desired colony are doing things differently, and wrong, and they need your help. They are morally-degenerate, we are morally-upright, and we can fix them!
And this is, unfortunately, still where all the old colonizers are coming from in trying to reign in the worst damages done to their former colonies, only these days the colonies aren't having it.
Gee, I wonder why.
Back in the golden age, tribal warfare, slavery, the abuses of preexisting empires, and a lack of super cool technology were all easy justifications. You didn't necessarily have to fix them, you just had to say you were, and that was cover for whatever else you wanted to do, including more warfare, slavery, abuse and theft. Gayness in and of itself wasn't a big deal to ancient Greeks and Romans, but they still held themselves much more civilized than the disorganized gayness they found in the Celtic tribes on those savage islands across the channel.
Those savage islands did not stop being gay and disorganized, even at the height of their colonial expansion, when such behaviour was officially punishable by imprisonment and death. Yet, Shaka Zulu didn't send a telegram after hearing about the Cleveland Street Scandal and say, "Hey, Victoria? Shame about that homosexual menace corrupting your whole government. Tell ya what, I'll be over with all my troops on the next boat, and we'll 'save' you from yourselves, all right? No-no, no need to thank me. Just returning the favour. Ha-ha. Cheers!"
Gayness has been here a long time, it's not going away, and empires have rolled along just fine while being variously gay AF. They normalize it, they ignore it, and they cover it up, as needed. Above a certain social standing, you can do whatever you want and we'll bend over backwards to forgive it. That's still how it is today, or else Prince Andrew and all of Epstein's powerful friends would be rotting in jail instead of going on about their influential lives. Colonial power structures don't really care about two similar sets of genitals banging together, or any kind of sexual deviancy at all. What they cannot abide is people refusing to stay in their place.
Queen Victoria wouldn't stand for a cadre of Zulu warriors occupying London no matter how gay it was, because white people (except the Irish) are inherently superior and deserve to rule the world. And we've developed many scientific theories based on things like skull shape and melanin production that prove it! SO THERE!
Science is NOT political. You can't politicize this stuff, IT IS SCIENCE!
Criminalizing homosexuality and gender fluidity all comes down to one thing: visible minorities are the easiest to marginalize, and marginalized people are the easiest to exploit. If you are below a certain social standing, it behooves your betters to hit you with as many labels as possible that indicate you belong there. Ideally, you will stop looking like a person deserving of human rights, and start to resemble a problem that needs a solution. Not necessarily a final solution, but that is on the table for those of you who aren't willing to settle down and be managed.
Let's go back to the pesticide metaphor. Say you're Monsanto, and you want the world to be covered in your corn. You know what would really help you rip up a variety of diverse ecosystems? An evil plant.
(I'm gay. I'm crime.)
Ideally, something hardy, ubiquitous, recognizable, and just common enough that you're liable to find one or two in any field, growing wild and free. Then, wherever you want to grow your corn, you just have to look for the plant.
THERE IT IS! GET 'EM!
And if someone should happen to see some evil plants growing amidst your awesome corn...
(I'm gay, but British aristocracy. I'm not crime!)
Nuh-uh, no you didn't.
(This one got pulled up and thrown away because it wouldn't shut up, and it was pointing out more evil plants.)
And if, in the future, you wanted to keep burning ecosystems down with impunity, you could always take back all you said about the plant being evil, call it "oppressed" instead, and make another pass with the flamethrower to "save" it. You know, if any of your bridges are intact after a thousand years of flames, and you're still desperate to rule the world, you could try.
It's not working very well, but some of the people living in these damaged ecosystems have internalized the fact that the plants are evil (and a criminal underclass is useful), and the continued use of flamethrowers is not working out so hot either.
Ultimately, queerness was criminalized as a convenient excuse. While it worked, the colonizers overplayed their hands so badly that they no longer have the authority to de-criminalize it. It's not a real threat. It's not logical, it's not disprovable (you can't prove a negative), and it will persist as long as it's convenient to have an underclass to exploit. With capitalism calling the shots, I have no idea how we're going to fix this.
But you already have some great advice to follow if your very existence is a crime.
[like and reblog if you want more like this, I am paying attention!]
#Youtube#brigitte empire#be gay do crimes#postcolonialism#british empire#imperialism#weed metaphors for queerness
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Stillness, armor, footwear, favorite, and change for Daichi! And Favorite for Eniko and Branwen as well!
thanks!! // oc asks: character design edition
EVERYONE
favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?
DAI — honestly he really loves his tennis shoes. they're so nice! nothing like a good sturdy pair of sneakers, as it turns out. upside of being back in selto: he can get a new pair of shoes now that this pair have been through the fuckin wringer.
ENIKO — oh boy. eniko's entire schtick is not having anything to care about so much that losing it would hurt. he definitely has some favorite knives, but that's a practical sort of favoritism. I think he might get a little attached to his hairtie? it's literally just a scrap of fabric but. y'know how you feel naked when you're missing your hairtie? he'd have something like that.
BRAN — her HAT! it's a magic hat!! it's also just a Really good hat and a pirate should have a good hat. (she also has a signet ring from her mother that she always wears)
DAI
stillness: How does your OC act while still? Are they fidgety? Do they have any common gestures or tics? Does their clothing affect how they hold themselves while at rest?
Daichi tends to stand or sit upright when he's at rest. Even when he's nervous or angry or whatnot, he's not fidgety. He might clench his fist or his jaw, and he's got a face like an open book, but he's got good physical self control. The weight and bulk of his armor does make him tend to stand up or sit up straighter than he might without the extra weight, but years of accounting for his uniform and armor has ingrained that discipline in him even when he's out of armor.
armor: What kind of armor does your OC wear? Is it well kept? Bonus: where does it come from? Is there a story behind it?
Dai wears an adamantine breastplate that he bought while traveling. It doesn't have any real emotional connection since it's just gear he purchased, but it's definitely proven useful (shout out to that adamantine anti-crit mechanic)! He's good about taking care of his gear, but it's been a bit rough going lately, and it could probably use a good buff after the swamp monster and the mountain weather and the sulfurous cursed abyssal ocean shit. He also has a +3/4 shield he fished out of the guts of a colossal forest beast which is CRAZY helpful with a whole bunch of shit. He's got the Shield Master feat and the extra +3 to select Dex saves has been a lifesaver. Literally.
footwear: What does your OC wear on their feet?
Tennis shoes!! He discovered sneakers when he got to Selto and he's got a good sturdy pair with good arch support and a nice tread. Way more comfortable than the garrison-provided boots. Technology is great and all but if he could take one thing back to Airedon with him, it's his pumped-up kicks.
change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?
When he died, he did a pretty hack job cutting all his hair off. He had locs up until that point but he shaved it down as close to the scalp as he could with a knife and a pack of drug-store razors. (He had a, uh, pretty rough talk with his god before he got resurrected and needed to make some Decisions about it.) It's grown back a bit by now—I think he might braid it. If he survives the next hour.
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nat 20 + crit fail
thanks for sending! under a cut bc i get a bit long-winded talking abt my dnd characters lol
Nat 20: What’s the most memorable RP scene you’ve been a part of? our group has had so many amazing moments, but for some reason the absolute first one that came to mind was when the party got absolutely trashed at a biker bar in avernus???? i dont remember exact details bc i was having too much fun to take notes, but it was just a perfect case of all of us yes-anding ourselves into complete lunacy, and i still remember my throat hurting after the session from laughing so hard for so long.
in terms of a serious scene, though, i'd have to say it's a toss-up between
a) warm-fuzzy campfire scene near the end of curse of strahd, where our whole party had this one last big heart-to-heart, found-family bonding moment before going to face down the world's shittiest undead incel.
or, on the opposite end of the spectrum,
b) knock-down, drag-out, breaking-of-the-fellowship pvp in descent into avernus. so many great fuckin rp decisions made in that fight that completely altered the course of the campaign in the best way possible, just. the delicious Drama of it all (which, i should note, was fully sanctioned by our group full of dramamongers).
Crit Fail: Have you ever had a character death? What happened? hsdfjsdf ok so. idk if i've angered the dice gods or if i'm just bad at DnD, but I lose a lot of characters.
i've lost at least one in every campaign we've ever played except for strahd, and in that case she only survived because her friends bailed her out and saved her dumb ass every time she made a terrible decision (which happened a lot).
because there are so many, i'll just do a quick in memoriam:
nell, halfling cleric. cause of death: riddled with arrows after rolling two natty ones and walking directly into a booby trap
kaz, goliath warlock. cause of death: tragic giant magnet accident
nell, halfling cleric (again. she got brought back to life in between campaigns it's a long story). cause of death: mauled by heckpuppies during aforementioned pvp
ardreth, hexblood sorcerer/cleric. cause of death: terrible horrible no good very bad week in a cursed forest
worm, kobold monk/rogue. cause of death: angry invisible wizard
rip my darlings, sorry i failed so hard at dnd.
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𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖓𝖔 𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖓
(part one)
(part two)
pairing: king!bakugo x fem!reader
genre: slowburn, royalty au, strangers to lovers to haters, angst, smut
summary: bakugo doesn't know what to do now that his fiance, or better yet, ex-fiance left him to go to his rival kingdom. he's told to go calm himself down, take a few days off to release his stress. it's unfortunate, really, that he had to go get himself lost. a true shame until he stumbles into you.
warnings: mentions of past trauma, throwing up, angst, smut (all characters are aged up to their twenties), fingering (fem. receiving), blowjobs, heavy making out, mdni 18+
note: reblogs and comments are always appreciated!
word count: 10k
mha masterlist
---
"All these fuckin' trees and not a single bit of fuckin' water..."
The hair on your neck stood up, heart stopping at the voice. You carefully put the bowl in your hands down as you looked around, grateful for the wall of rocks that hid you from anybody walking underneath.
It wasn't one you had heard before, laced with obvious frustration, gruffing as the male trudged along the muddy road of the mossy forest.
Despite all the alarms going off in your head to run, your curiosity peaked as you caught a glimpse of him through the slice of boulders, a glittering of blonde hair that shined whenever it was hit was a streak of light.
The man swung his sword as he got deeper and deeper into the heart of your home, the fur coat on his back surely offering him only heat as he moved slower and slower with each swing.
Had he come to kill you?
You popped your head around the rocks, matching his footsteps with yours as you followed him, careful to make sure there were no twigs as you took a step.
You heard him mumble some things under his breath, grunting as he stopped, his hands on his knees as he heaved, chest heavy as he rested.
You waited for him to start his journey again, curious to see where he was going, only for him to stumble to his feet, the weapon in his hand clattering to the side as he fell.
After a couple of minutes you realized that he wasn't getting up, and even when you crunched some leaves under your fingers to get a reaction out of him, he lay silently.
Looking around, you saw that there was nobody else near him, and counted all your blessings as you made your way down from your little alcove, stopping a couple of feet away from him as you saw him more closely.
He was well built, hair as blonde as the woven silk your mother used to make, and could easily couple over you if needed.
With that in mind, you nudged his shoulder with your shoes, once, twice, and then for a final time to see that he didn't move.
You crouched down to his face, prodding it over to see it flushing a deep red, forehead lined with sweat as his skin grew hotter underneath your fingers.
You could leave him here, ensure your safety as you went back to your little house,
But looking back and forth to the lake you knew wasn't far from here, you stuttered, quickly gnawing on your lips as you decided.
After some seconds of internal debating, you stomped your feet on the ground, praying to any god up there that you were doing the right thing as you put one of his arms around your shoulder, almost falling over as you tried to lift him, slowly doing your best to get him to water.
---
Bakugo woke up with his eyes snapping open, looking widely around as he felt himself up to his chest submerged in water.
He jumped to his feet, stumbling a bit as he saw his clothing neatly folded to his side, all his different pieces of jewelry and weaponry laid next to it as if somebody had put it there.
He sure as hell knew he didn't fold any of his things, nor take his necklaces off when he bathed.
He noted that he was in a small lake, nothing big enough nor deep that he would notice it beforehand, but cool enough that it saved him from the exhaustion he was feeling earlier.
His hands clenched, eyes narrowing as he looked around for somebody, anybody to guess who had done this, yet he didn't need to think long on it as the person in question thudded to a stop seeing that he was awake.
The two of you stared at each other in silence, and you couldn't do anything as you saw a flash of color whizzing towards you, your back instantly hitting the ground as your head thudded off the rough dirt path, a groan of pain emitting from your lips, and your eyes widened in fear as a sturdy hand wrapped around your neck like viscous python.
"Who are you?" He snarled, eyes a deep red as his teeth bared themselves to you, furry taking over his features as he looked deep into your eyes, the fingers around your throat growing tighter as you struggled for an answer.
"Y-y/n," You choked out, "I mean no h-harm," Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, hands struggling to scratch at his, his weight doing more damage as it weighed you down.
You felt his hand loosen, but his grip was still there, finger threatening to dig deeper into your skin if you didn't answer his questions.
"Were you the one that stripped me fuckin' naked?" He gritted out, cocking his chin to his clothes, and you feebly nodded.
You knew this was a bad idea. You should have left him for the crows.
"You passed out," You whispered heavily, "I tried to help."
The man paused, lips pressed into a thin line as he looked at you longer, hand still at the back of your throat as he thought about what to do with you.
After some time he removed himself from you, paying no attention to you as you heaved, gasping for air as you coughed dryly, shooting him a glare, muttering curses under your breath as he placed his hands on his waist, looking around.
You massaged your neck, wincing as you gently pressed down, your eyes watering as you cursed yourself for your stupidity.
The man grunted, looking at you from the side of his eyes as he began to duck down, picking up his clothing as he shrugged them on one by one.
You threw the water sack you had brought to his back, not saying anything as you shakily stood up, getting ready to walk back to your place when you felt a slight tug on your tunic, pulling you back as you were face to face with the man.
"Do you live in that village nearby?" His eyes were so red, you cited wearily, such a crimson shade that you wondered if compared to the blood under your skin you could tell which was which.
"No." You glanced at the array of knives he had, choosing your words carefully as you addressed him.
He noted your gruffed-up appearance, the dirt, and mud that littered your tattered clothing, and the little pieces of twigs that were in your hair.
"Do you live anywhere near here?" He towered over you, chest lined with droplets of water, and you took a step back, suddenly aware of just how close the two of you were standing.
"Yes." You said, his brows creasing as he tried to piece you together.
He sighed, raking a hand through his hair as he went back to work, pocketing all his knives and other tiny weapons as he left you wondering if you should leave or stay.
"My horse is dead, and I don't know where I am," He told you, looking over his shoulder as your lips scrunched up, "I need to stay with you until my men come."
His men?
"You need not stay with me" You snapped, "You almost killed me and you expect me to openly invite you to my house?" You had to control your voice from shouting, fists curled as they shook with anger.
He scoffed, lips curling upwards in distaste as he stood back up again, reminding you just how much power he had, just how easy it was for him to break you with his hands.
"Do you want the royal militia to know that you refused their king his request?" He wrapped the necklace around his neck, brow perched as he waited for your response.
You snorted, clicking your tongue as you looked over to the glistening lake, realizing what, or perhaps, who, you were dealing with.
"Alright," You nodded, deciding to play along with his little game as you shrugged, "You can just wait for the royal militia to come and pick you up, well now?"
The man shook his head, following you as you began walking, hoping he would give up after he realized he forgot one of his knives.
"You'll be heavily rewarded." He said, bargaining with you as you walked up a narrow dirt path, shaking your head to his outlandish offer.
"I need no rewards." You said, looking to the side as he walked closer and closer to you.
"Do you intend on living like a fuckin' dog your entire life? If you help me I'll give you more than you've had." He said again, though this time his voice was lined with a hint of desperation.
"You offend me yet still want my help?" You shot back and he winced slightly, eyeing your neck as he bit his lip.
"'M sorry about that," He started, "Can't be too cautious with everythin' nowadays."
You stopped walking, your hand massaging your forehead as you thought deeply.
"Can you give me asylum?" Your hands fidgeted, hoping he wouldn't question too deep into it.
"Asylum?" He parroted back, eyes taking you in, really taking you in this time.
"Can you or can you not?"
"Yes," He responded almost instantly, comically, "I can."
"No questions asked?"
He contemplated, weighing the chances of having a complete psychopath on his hands.
"No questions asked."
You gnawed on your nails, looking back and forth as you sighed, motioning for him to follow you.
You didn't even care if he was who he said he was, and you severely doubted he was anything more of a countryman who simply got lost on one of his hunts.
But at the end of the day, you were a gentle person in nature, and couldn't leave someone stranded just as you had been many years ago.
---
Bakugo almost wished he hadn't asked to come with you.
The walk wasn't long, but it sure didn't help that the heat was overbearing and he only had a satchel to accommodate him on the short journey.
And if that wasn't the worst thing he'd have to experience until now, he didn't realize that your home wasn't so much a home, more so a cave you have furnished with leaves and clay pots.
He watched as you sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck, looking at the opening of the cave and then back to him, almost looking away from him the instant you saw the slight repugnance on his face.
"If you're going to complain you can leave. I'm not wasting anything on you if you're going to be ungrateful."
Bakugo swallowed thickly, shaking his head as he followed you inside, ducked as the roof of the cave was a bit too short for his height.
There was a small pot in the middle, and you glanced inside it, muttering to yourself as you sprinkled something in from a nearby clay can, tasting it on your finger as you nodded bitterly.
"Make yourself comfortable," You said, motioning for him to lie anywhere he'd like as you stirred the soup around a bit more, adding some spices in as you tasted it again.
Katsuki Bakugo, you had come to learn his name, groaned as he situated himself down in the further corner there was, taking his large boots off as he flexed his toes, cracking his joints as he rolled his head around.
The soup, if it could even be called that, was thankfully not too warm, and would therefore be something that wouldn't heat him any more than he already was, and you began pouring some into the singular bowl you had.
The fish head floated to the top, its eyes looking back at you as you garnished it with some of the grass-like plants you had found a couple of weeks ago, balancing it carefully in your hands as you brought it to him.
"I don't have any spoons, so you'll have to bring the bowl up to your lips." You said placing it down next to him as you nodded to the soup.
Bakugo looked at the fish head and then back to you, giving a single nod of his head in thanks as you went back to your respective corner, waiting for him to finish his food so that you could use the bowl.
You watched as he gingerly brought it up to his mouth, tasting it as he winced, coughing at the foul taste as he struggled to keep it down, glancing at you and then back to the bowl of soup as he did his best to finish it without throwing up.
"It's not the worst," You snapped and he shuddered as he finished it, his eyes squeezing shut as it went slowly down his throat.
"It's not the best, either." He barked back, and you stood from your seat, picking up his bowl as you pour yourself your serving, eating it in silence as he looked around.
"You live here or is this a stop?" He played with his little necklace, his finger tracing its little bead as he glanced at you, red eyes the same color as the hearth in front of you.
"You always ask this many questions?" You wiped your top lip, smacking them together as you finished the soup, your stomach finally stopping its rumbling as you unflasked your satchel, letting the water run in the bowl as you cleaned it of the substance.
He scoffed, his legs drawing out as he laid down, his arm slung over his eyes, the other over his chest as he groaned once again, and then, finally, silence, as he decided to go to sleep.
You, however, knew that sleep was far from what you were going to do.
Despite this man, Bakugo, stating that he meant no harm, you had just met him a couple of hours ago, in such a way he had tried to kill you once already, and you doubted he wouldn't try again.
As the night rolled in and the moon traded roles with the sun, you sat at the opening of the cave, one hand tightly gripping your makeshift knife, the other gripping onto a rock, jumping at every slight move he made.
But even you were no match for the inevitable slouch, for the way your full belly sang you deeper into sleep, and you slumped over in the position you were sitting in, head hung low as you weakly gripped onto your weapons.
---
You awoke when you felt a sudden nudge on your shoulder, your eyes snapped wide open, wildly whipping your hands around as you heard a loud shout.
"The fuck is your problem?" Bakugo yelled, jumping back at the knife in your hand, brows scrunched up as he gazed over your sunken expression.
You noticed that he had come empty-handed, and perhaps seemed to be more scared of you than you were of him. Despite that, you still gripped onto the hilt of the knife, shifting over in your seat as he waited for a response.
"Can't be too cautious nowadays," You mimicked his words from earlier, yawning as you changed positions, crawling into yourself as your eyes fluttered shut, "If you need anything the creek is a bit up north from here and there should be some food leftover from last night." You groggily said.
Bakugo didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, and you cracked an eye open to see him standing above you, examining like he was debating on saying something.
"If you need'a take a piss just do it outside," You muttered and he shook his head, sighing as he gave up, going back to his corner as he tried to make himself comfortable.
"Can you stop makin' so many fuckin' noises then?" Bakugo said, his tone laced with annoyance as he situated himself into a comfortable position, "Makes it real fuckin' difficult to sleep."
Your eyes opened at this, sitting up as you narrowed them, lips drawn into a thin line as you glared at him.
"'M not making any noises," You replied and he scoffed, peeking at you from the side as he shrugged, using his coat as a cushion for his head, leaving nothing to cover his chest, and you felt your cheeks warm as each movement caused his muscles to flex most deliciously.
"Then don't make any noises." He mumbled, voice lined with sleep as he nodded off, not caring that you conscientiously touched your throat, the burns on your chest, as you wondered if you were making noises, and you just weren't aware of it.
It had been so long since you had seen somebody, let alone talked to them to this extent, that you felt as though you were going crazy, and decided to sleep at the opening perch of the cave, far enough from him so that if you did make any noise he wouldn't be bothered enough to come and wake you up for it.
---
Waking up with a start, Bakugo rubbed tiredly at his eyes, mouth open in a silent yawn as he remembered where he was; that instead of the comfort of his bed in the palace he was stuck here, in a cave with a woman who dare not make good soup and talked in her sleep.
He looked over to where you were the night before and instantly stood up, stumbling as he gripped onto the cave wall for support, skimming wildly around as he couldn't see you anywhere.
Had you left him? Put him here to mock him for his lack of training?
His feet padded thickly on the ground as he ran outside, almost tripping over a pair of legs as he steadied himself back up, his heart stopping its rapid movement as he saw your familiar face again, lined with a sense of serenity as you continued to sleep.
He halted, not knowing if he should wake you up or let you sleep, already feeling a sense of guilt for choking you and then forcing you to do something you weren't on board.
He went to go back into the cave when his boot landed on a dried twig, the sound echoing around the forest, and watched in surprise as you cracked wide awake, hands already ready to attack with your pesky knife and rock, your chest heaving as you were face to face with him, again.
Your face twisted from one of fear and anticipation to annoyance as you realized it was only him, grumbling some curses under your breath as you groggily rubbed at your eyes, not noticing the way Bakugo watched you intently, waiting for you to do something as you stood up, receding into the cave as you went straight to check up on your pot of soup.
He followed you inside, like a lost puppy, and stood behind you, watching as you stirred the pot with great focus.
"You didn't eat any more of it last night," You remarked, and he sneered, walking around you so that he'd be facing you, pointing to the contents inside the pot as his face lined with disgust once more.
"It tasted like shit, ya' know. Can't say I was fuckin' eager to go back for seconds." You stopped your movements, glimpsing at him from above your eyelashes, fingers gripping the hilt of stick you used to stir as you poured yourself your serving, not saying anything as you went back to your corner, quietly slurping away as he was left at the pot of watery fish soup.
"Is this all there is?" He almost shouted, irritated, glimpsing around the room as if there were others next to him, ready to defend his every word.
But it was just the two of you, and you seemed quite intent on devouring whatever abomination it was you had created.
"There's this and there's also some berries outside," You said, and almost laughed at how quickly he almost ran to the opening of the cave, stopping only when you opened your mouth again to say, "I wouldn't try those, though, it gives you a nasty rash."
His chest deflated, and went back to his standing position as the pot, looking inside as if the fish pieces would stop floating up now and then, and the questionable black chunks didn't fill every sense in him up with dread.
"It's fish 'n toasted acorns," You commented, "Nothin' that's gonna' kill ya'."
Bakugo paused, glancing at the empty bowl in your hand, the soup, and the rumbling in his stomach couldn't be ignored as he stomped his way towards you, snatching the bowl as he filled it up, going back to his corner as he begrudgingly sipped on it.
There was an award silence as he finished the food, throwing the bowl aside as he looked at you, brows drawn as he tried to make sense of who you were.
"Do you willingly live here?" You felt your eyes roll back into your skull at his many questions, fingers clenching at the worn fabric on your thigh.
"If I did, would I ask you for asylum?" You watched as he blushed a pink, ears twinging red as he looked away, embarrassed that you called him out for his misjudgment.
"Do you always come unprepared on a trip to the eastern forest?" You asked for the first time and he tutted, aggravation written all over his posture.
"I always go with at least one of my men, guess I just miscalculated this time." You wanted to almost laugh at that, at the way he seemed embarrassed to admit he'd ever make a mistake.
You gazed at his profile, at the way his blonde hair seemed to shine gold under the flickering embers of the fire, or the way his jaw seemed to tick whenever he got annoyed.
"Are you a king?"
There was a quietness after that, one you hadn't expected.
"Yes."
If it weren't for his stupidity, you almost would have believed him. He seemed so sure in his answer that he didn't even need to stutter, no from hesitation as he looked you directly in the eye.
"Do you realize how many men have said that?" This peaked his attention, as the corners of his lips tugged upwards in amusement, his head cocking to the side as he took in the information.
"I doubt many men could offer you whatever you wanted," He jeered, and you doubted even he could offer you what you truly wanted.
"Oh no," You said with a taunting smile, "They had nothing to offer me. They were, however, quite interested in what lay beneath my knickers." Bakugo bit back a laugh, averting his eyes to something that lay behind you, as if not to keep himself from looking down in curiosity.
Your cheeks warmed up, and you glanced sideways, thinking of what you wanted to say.
"I can't say I've seen much of your face. If you're to be a king, how come I've never heard your name?" Your chin lifted, looking down at him as he shrugged, playing with the delicate beads on his necklace.
"I'm the king of the south, not the east," He explained as if that would make any difference.
"Well, surely I must have heard your name in conversation before. If I recall correctly, the king of the south arranged to marry our princess. Why are you here, instead of hunting with your wife?" You cocked up an eyebrow, feeling victorious that you at least remembered some things from your early years.
What you weren't expecting, however, was for a shadow to form on his face, his red eyes to turn a deep shade of burgundy as his lips curled up, a deep scowl forming on his face as he glanced at you, his nose up, now the one looking down on you.
"Then you must be real fuckin' stupid for not rememberin' me, then," He barked back with a scathing tone, and you felt the little bit of lively energy you two had created in the past couple of minutes dissipate, your blood running cold as you deflated in on yourself.
You felt something lodge itself in your throat, his words mimicking the ones you had heard so many years ago, quickly standing up as you snatched the water satchel as you left the cave.
"I'll be back in an hour." You announced, voice shaking as you left him alone, his eyes narrowed as he heard your quivering exhale, wondering what he had said to get you so riled up.
---
The following days were spent with minimal conversation, and it seemed the more the sun would set and the moon would rise, Bakugo became more and more restless.
"They should be here..." He'd whisper to himself, "What's taking them so fuckin' long?" He'd peek his head outside the cave, walk around a bit until he felt like he had strayed too far, trudged back, heavy boot clanking on the ground as he ducked his head down, a dejected look on his face.
He’d stay silent about your food after he conceded he could barely hunt anything other than fish in this dense area, and the acorns didn’t taste the most inadequate if he just scrunched up his nose and pretended they were the lightly toasted walnuts he enjoyed back at the palace instead.
You didn’t speak much, and he felt rather bad for snapping at you the other day, but he was the king of the south, the supposed man who felt no sympathy nor regret, who cheated his fiance out of a loving marriage, and felt as though he should uphold his reputation to at least one person.
At night, you still laid next to your knife and rock, though you opted to sleep near them instead of gripping them tightly in your hands, seeing that the man hadn’t attacked so far and didn’t seem intent on doing it again.
He’d still wake you up sometimes, a nudge of his boot or a pesky slap across your face when you wouldn’t stop shaking, his eyes holding something close to worry as you groggily woke up, looking around as you realized you had just woken him up again.
“Sorry,” You muttered, rolling to the other side so that your back was to him, hiding the stray tears that always made their way to your waterline after the dreams, feeling his looming presence as he didn’t go back to his corner like he usually would.
“Bad dream?” He tried, voice a bit quieter than his usual gruff one, his one tiredness taking over, but he still tried for conversation at the dead of night.
“Would barely call it a dream,” You muttered and he studied the scars that peeked out from the sliver of your tunic that rode up, how they wrapped themselves around your waist and the entirety of your back from what it seemed.
“Stop uh, stop makin’ noises. Makes it real fuck-”
“Fuckin’ difficult to sleep, I know,” You recited his words, “I’ll try my best.” He felt like total shit, winching when you took in a shuddering breath, feeling worse for what he was saying. He barges into your life, eats your food, depends on you for the meekest of things yet still dares to order you around? It was no wonder Kō left him for that Todoroki.
Your hands were drawn into your chest as you curled in on yourself, the cool breeze that wafted in biting at your uncovered skin, little goosebumps forming as you shuddered yourself to sleep.
You tried to shut your eyes as tightly as you could, pretend the frightening images of the whippings and the blood didn’t make their way to your imagination when all of a sudden you felt something heavy fall on your shoulders.
Opening your lids you saw the thick coat he had used as a pillow draped over your side, and as you turned your neck you saw him walking back, giving you no attention as if he hadn’t done anything.
“Thank you,” You said, your voice lined with genuine gratitude, and for the first time in his life, Bakugo didn’t know what to say or what to do to tell you that this was the bare minimum of what he should be giving you.
But he pressed his lips into a thin line, nodding to himself as he muttered back,
“No problem.”
—-
After that night, you kept your knife and rock safely tucked away.
You had to guess it had to be at least three weeks without any word from the outside world, and you doubted anybody would be coming for him, royal militia or not.
Your days were spent with less tense talk, and sometimes you could see the wisps of a smile on his face, his forehead free on any stress as you laughed loudly at him stumbling to debone a fish, taking over as you showed him how to properly do it, the minimal space between the two of you almost nonexistent as you watched intently from over your shoulder, his hands almost atop your waist as you looked behind to make sure he was following along.
He stopped talking about how he was a king after the first two weeks, and once he probably figured that nobody was coming for him, he seemed to be more relaxed than apprehensive, his words more carefree and joyful as you two poked fun at each other.
“You know,” You said one sunny afternoon, your knife in one hand, the fish in front of you as Katsuki sifted through the berries you had picked earlier that day, seeing which ones were ripe enough to eat, “You should start doin’ the hunting. I’ve been doing all the work around here and it’s time you start doin’ your share.” He looked up, brows furrowed as he crossed his arms across his chest, muscles taunting you from across the room as you felt a part of you shiver from just how beautiful he truly was.
“Don't ya’ know it’s uncivilized to command your guest?” He bit back and a small grin grew on your face, shaking your head as you shrugged.
“I’m just sayin’, if you don’t want me to kick ya’ out then ya’ gotta’ do something to make this load easier. I’m doin’ the work of two people with only a singular person, it’s getting kinda’ difficult.” You said and he grunted, going back to the berries as he squished one underneath his fingers, watching as the deep purple shade ran down his skin, tainting it a violet. He took a couple in his mouth, curious to see their taste, screwing his eyes shut as he began tasting its sour pulp.
He winced, throwing the berry to the ground as he went back to pick them out, the taste sitting uncomfortably on his tongue as he glanced at you.
“‘Are ya’ sure any of these berries are ripe? Really fuckin’ nasty if ya’ ask me,” You looked up, giggling at his purple-stained lips as he glared at you, “Tastes like tomatoes, and I fuckin’ hate tomatoes.”
The knife in your hand dropped as you looked up.
You quickly walked over to him, picking the berry he had thrown on the ground, assessing it as you looked into the basket, feeling every nerve in your body freeze, your heart seizing its thumping as you picked up a handful of them, their shape different from the one you swore you had seen in the forest.
“Oh,” You whispered, dropping the berries on the ground, “Oh my fuckin’ god, shit, shit!” You snapped over to Katsuki a wild look in your eyes as your lips trembled in fear.
“Throw that up, Katsuki, throw it up right now!” You slapped yourself across the face, dragging your fingers down your eyes as your feet tapped your foot quickly on the ground, millions of thoughts running through your head as your brain seemed to stop working.
“Wh-what?” He stuttered, whipping his stained hands on his pants as he ran to you, worry taking over as you jammed your palms into your eye sockets, “The fuck is wrong with you? They’re just blueberries, right?”
You looked up at him, shaking your head slowly as you pulled away, a wave of nausea settling in as you thought of anything that could potentially save him.
“Y/n, come on, those were blueberries, right? Right?” You let out a muted shout, dropping to your knees as you breathed heavily.
“They’re nightshade. They, they um,” You stuttered, not finding the right words.
“They what?” He snapped, a hint of fury in his eyes as his hands shook in rage.
“Belladonna,” And you knew he knew this name, much more common in the south than in the east, you looked up at him, “They’re,” You took in a shuddering breath “They’re deadly, in um, most cases.” Your voice dropped in octaves to a whisper, almost wincing behind your covered face as you peeked out.
He stopped, his chest heaving as he gazed down at you, oddly calm for the information you just gave him, and he took in a deep breath before lunging for you, tackling you roughly to the ground as he snared, his eyes a different shade of red, one you had never seen before as elbow jabbed roughly into your chest, his other arm pressing your throat down.
“Have you been tryin’ to kill me this entire fuckin’ time, huh? Is that what this is? Are ya’ a little eastern spy?” He gritted out, and you shook your head, sniveling as he pressed his arm tighter against your throat.
“No! No, Katsuki, I swear,” Your whimpers turned into cries as he let out an empty laugh, his expression twisting to one of pain momentarily and then back to one of pure wrath as he pressed his knee in between your thighs to keep you from squirming.
“You swear what, shit, - fuck - that you didn’t…” His grip on you loosened as he fell over, clutching his stomach as groaned out in pain, letting you scramble away as you held your hand to your mouth to stop from throwing up when you saw the dribble of blood that escaped his lips, staining his teeth a dark red.
“Katsuki, I’m so sorry, come, let me,” You reached out, trying to hold his hand, but he weakly swatted it aside in a feeble attempt to get rid of you, “Please, I’m only trying to help.” He showed his teeth at that, a cruel grin on his face as his nose wrinkled in disgust.
“You’re a fuckin’ bitch, ya’ know that, right? All your pity, fuck, p-pity shit and still can’t tell the difference between a blueberry and something that’s gonna’ fuckin’ kill me, can’t ya’?” Your lips wobbled, knowing that he was right, knowing that everything he was saying was the truth, that no matter how much good you tried to do all you’ll ever be known for is destruction, but it didn’t stop you from bending down, slinging his arm as you ignored his protests, dragging him somewhere shadier as you ran to get his coat, clumping it up as you placed it under his feet, doing your best to elevate it as his moans became louder.
You brought the water satchel over, propping his mouth open as you poured some in, seeing that he was barely conscious, whispering your apologies as you closed his mouth, seeing his throat barely function as he tried to swallow.
You opened his mouth again, this time shutting your eyes as you stuck your fingers down his throat, wincing as you heard the sounds, the dark berries he had eaten earlier now staining his chin and chest as he heaved, eyes barely open as he settled back down, hands covering his stomach as he rolled to the side in pain.
You could barely hear him breathing, placing your ears above his heart as you heard its slow thumping, grateful for something as you quickly ripped a part of your scraggly shirt apart, wetting it with more water as you began cleaning his face and chest, your hands trembling as he groaned loudly, whispering apologies as he shuddered.
You watched in horror as his skin grew a red shade, body shaking as he lay on the stone ground, but as you placed a quivering hand to steady him, you reeled back, finger unused to the cold, stumbling as you ran to the creek to get more water.
As you ran, you paid no mind to the branches that cut your skin or the way your ankle caught on a root, a sharp gasp of pain leaving your lips as you struggled back up, ignoring ever as you ran to the wide opening, looking behind you as you filled it up with water, hands shaking terribly as you clasped the cap back on, running back to the cave where he lay convulsing silently, not knowing if by the time you got there he’d be dead.
—-
That night was spent with you bending over him constantly, checking his open mouth for any breath, thankful when you felt little puffs hit your cheek, biting your nails to a stump as you prayed that the poison would just leave his system.
He’d muttered some things now and then, and you knew he must have been hallucinating some things when he’d sickly reach his hand up, almost as if he was trying to grasp something until they fell back down at his sides.
“K-Kō,” You’d hear him whisper from time to time, “Kō.” He’d say, and you’d grip his hand, letting him know that you were there, watching as he gradually turned his head to look at you, his eyelids opening slowly as he showed you his dilated pupils, a rash forming on his forehead as he stared for a while, the hand in yours weakening as he reached up to grip your cheek in his large palm.
“Kō?” He sounded so lost, so lifeless that if you weren't listening with every ounce of yourself, you’d never have heard it.
You shook your head slowly, your fingers pressing into his arm as you tried to snap him to reality.
“No, no,” Your voice wavered, “It’s me, Y/n, not Kō.” You knew who she was, and even without your past knowledge about your royalty, the way he’d sometimes speak about her, in bursts of conversation, a solemn look on his face as gazed somewhere far away, as if he was imagining her instead of being stuck with you, somewhere he could imagine he was in his darkest moments, with his true love instead of a woman he stumbled into on a spontaneous day.
His eyes opened a little bit more, as if he didn’t believe your words, his lips forming into a small pout that would have put a smile on your face if not for the situation you were in, your heart squeezing painfully as you noted the rashed that formed on his arms and chest.
“Y-” He struggled to talk, “Y/n?” He said it as if he had never heard the name before, the letters foreign on his tongue, his memories swishing together into a messy blur until he couldn’t remember anything aside from the girl with long dark hair, always pulled into a tight regal bun he adored so much, the girl he didn’t remember left him for the boy with a burn across his left side, your face melding with Kō’s as if she was here instead of you.
“That’s me,” You said quietly, not wanting to disturb him any more than you already had, shifting so that the setting sun wouldn’t bother his eyes, blocking it from his view as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze, smiling kindly at him through your blurred tears.
He reminded you so much of that day, the way he gripped onto you as if you were his savior although you put him in this position, your brother’s pained eyes etching into his, the dying light in them something you dreaded to see in the man in front of you.
His hand on your cheek slipped as if he now realized that you weren’t his lover, but it hovered over your skin, his fingers moving downward to braze over your lips, gentle as they traced over the cuts that littered your skin, tracing your face for the first time, careful to take it all in even in his nauseated state. You felt his thumb slowly swiping at the tears that threatened to fall from your chin, slight confusion overtaking his features when he discovered you were crying.
“What,” He hesitated, his hands clenching as a wave of discomfort rolled through him, but he looked back up as if you were the one in his position, “What’s the matter, Kō? Are you,” He whimpered slightly in pain, “Are you hurt?���
You shook your head, quick to wipe the tears in your eyes as you gave a watery laugh, looking up as you cursed yourself for your thoughtlessness, at the sheer naivety you held, thinking you could truly do anything well in your wretched life.
“I’m sorry,” You whispered, body shaking in quiet sobs, “I’m sorry Katsuki,” You could speak well, words muted with silent weeps as your chest shook, “I,” You heaved, not able to breathe properly as sights of your brother flash before your eyes, his dying face mirroring the man in front of you.
“It’s okay,” He gave you a lopsided grin, one that looked almost boyish and unconcerned, one you had never seen before, “I know ya’ try your best,” You didn't know if he thought he was speaking to you or the girl that plagued his dreams, but it still made you fall over, crumpling in on yourself as your tears wet the stone beneath you.
You watched in genuine astonishment as he struggled up to his elbows, and you were quick to usher him down, but he didn’t mind, his strong arms circling your trembling frame as he weakly brought you into his chest, a sturdy hand rubbing your back as your wet cheeks stained his skin, your heart hammering as he gripped your thighs, letting you curl into him as if the two of you had done this before.
“I’m sorry Katsuki,” You whispered, your breath hitting his naked skin as it made him shudder, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.” A part of you almost didn’t notice that his skin was no longer freezing, this time burning alive as if he was the sun himself, the rash that littered little spots on his body disappearing as the seconds ticked by, making it seem as if they were never there.
“It’s okay,” He repeated, his fingers leaving hot trails on your skin, his voice hushed as you held onto him as tightly as you could.
And a part of you longed to stay awake, you knew you had to look over him, but another part of you felt exhausted, so aching and tired that the moment you shut your eyes a bit to relax you felt sleep overtake you, your body melding with his as the two of you let your dreams take you away into the night.
—-
You woke up to little puffs of air hitting your skin, and you stirred awake, aware of the fact that there was a heavy weight over your waist, a soft yet firm cushion under your head, and once reality settled in you snapped wide awake, causing Katsuki to stir awake in return.
It felt alarming, just how much your cheeks heated up, but that didn’t matter when you saw those familiar eyes, the vermillion you had become so familiar with staring back at you incredulously.
You blundered, your hand grazing over his forehead, a loud cry of astonishment at the fact that it felt normal, a hand over your chest to steady your heart, checking the places where the rash was only to find little red marks, and you broke into the biggest smile ever, throwing yourself over him, not giving any care in the world that he wore no shirt and you had just woken up, hugging him as tightly as you could, your cheek squished against his shoulders as you squeezed him with all the strength you could muster.
“You’re alive,” You murmured, almost as if you couldn’t believe it. No, you truly, wholly, could not believe the fact that he was here, that he wasn’t a cold stump lying next to you.
You felt his body rumbling, and you reeled back to see a cocky grin on his face, and you felt the apprehension from the night before melt away when you felt his gentle fingers drawing small shapes on the skin of your wrist.
“Did ya’ think any less of me?” He ridiculed back, but you knew there was no real menace in his words, his arms slowly finding purchase on your back as he hugged you, the first time the two of you had even been so close, save for last night, yet you felt as though you had been here before, felt his touch on your skin as if it was meant to be there.
You felt so weak that the tears were back, that they rolled down his shoulders and at your feeble attempts to hide them. But you felt him move away from your grasp, eyes searching yours, trying to find an answer to something you didn’t even know the explanation for.
His hands moved carefully upwards, to the round curve of your cheek, just as they had been there last night, but this time, there was no hazy glaze in his eyes, only concern at the way yours watered up under his touch.
“What’s wrong?” He cooed, his fingers trailing through your hair to pick off the leaves you had gotten from tumbling down the woods, thumb carefully looming over your little cuts as you sniffled, using the back of your hand to wipe away at your nose.
“I almost killed you,” You say, the words barely coming out as you choked on them, “Y-you,” He pulled your head gently into his chest, the other hand straddling the back of your head as you wept.
“I’m fine now, aren’t I?” You nodded weakly, even though you could barely grasp that fact.
He paused, biting his tongue as he remembered what he had done, his fingers hovering over the skin of your neck as his heart plummeted.
“Are you okay? Does your neck hurt? I,” He stammered, pulling away instantly as he assessed the skin of your neck, thanking his blessings that there were no visible bruises, but god, he could still hear the way you pleaded, the way you lay so defenseless at that moment.
You shook your head, giving him a waverly smile as your hands went up, gripping his jaw, not sure if you had gone too far, but feeling a part of you kindle at the way he leaned into your welcoming touch.
“It doesn't hurt, don’t worry ‘bout me,” You said, your body moving on its own as hands went down to grip your thighs, this time with a bit more force as he lifted you effortlessly up, situating your body on his lap as your breathing hitched in your throat.
It felt as though time had momentarily stopped when you felt his eyes looking down from yours to your lips, tracing every feature on your face as he mapped the curves of your body, touch almost scorching as your head consciously felt into the crook of his neck, not knowing what his next move was, but eager for any touch he’d give you.
His nose nudged at your jaw, lips drifting over yours as you finally looked up, moving your lips slowly towards his, feeling a fire ignite in the pits of your stomach at the way he hungrily kissed you back, his tongue clashing with yours as you move away, panting for some air you were so eagerly lacking.
He gave you no time as his lips quickly moved down, burning hot as they licked at your throat, sucking eagerly at the skin as you craned your neck to give him better access, your eyes screwing shut as his hands went to untying your tunic, your heart hammering rapidly in your chest as the only thing securing you from his burning gaze fell away, his ravenous gaze locked on your nipples, and your self consciously went to cover your arms around yourself, only for him to latch onto one of them as quickly he could, earning a surprised moan to escape your lips at the foreign feeling.
“S-suki,” You breathed out, “Please, god, please,” You couldn’t even finish the sentence as he went to the other nipple, giving it a slight tug, your head rolling backward as his tongue circled around it.
His lips left with a pop, your chest shining with his spit, and grinned at your glazed over expression, pulling your deeper into him as he pressed another kiss on your lips, this time short but still as breathtaking, “That’s all it takes for ya’ to become a dumb bitch?” You couldn't even register what he was saying, nodding weakly as you mewed, reaching for his pants as he let you undo the buttons, his breath hitching as your hand grazed over his hardening cock, biting into his lips hard enough to draw blood.
You clumsily pulled them down with the help of Katsuki lifting his hips, salivating as you gave his trousers a gentle tug, his cock springing free, his tip red and angry as a bead of precum shined at the top, yours hands not knowing what to do as you stared at it and then back up at him, lust clouding your eyes, just as he seemed to be, but he only shook his head, giving your cheek a small peck as his hands smoothed over your naked back.
You whimpered as his fingers followed down, going south where your juices lined your thighs, growing wetter and wetter as he played with you, grinning widely as he plunged his pointer finger in, giving you no time to adjust to it as you let out another moan, your tits pushing into his chest as you whined.
“You’re so fuckin’,” He stuttered, “So fuckin’ tight, god, Y/n,” He looked up at you, red eyes searching yours as they fluttered open, “Have ya’ ever been touched before? O-or…?” He trailed off, seeing the way you looked to the side sheepishly, and it only made him groan louder, his cock straining as he realized that he was perhaps going to be your first for everything.
“Fuck, Y/n,” He brought his finger back, your juices coating his skin as he popped it in his mouth, moaning at your sweet and tangy taste, his gaze never leaving your shocked one before he brought you back into another ragging kiss, your essence flooding your mouth as you whined into him, hands on his chest to steady yourself.
He went to put another finger in, to stretch your tight hole out even more, but he almost came just from the way your delicate fingers followed across his cock, curiously rubbing your thumb across the top as his precum stained your finger, and you wanted to guess you were doing more good than damage judging by the way his eyelash fluttered against his cheek, his muscles flexing as he restrained himself from shoving your head down and choking you on his length.
You remember hearing one of the older girls talking about her late-night rendezvous with the boy she had been fanning over when you were young, not understanding the weight of her words until now. You recalled just how she told her friends what they had done together, and with her words in mind you lowered your face down, your mouth a breathe away, not giving him any time to say anything as you close your lips around the tip, slobbering as you took him deep, hitting the back of your throat as you almost choked.
“W-wait, Y/n, fuck,” Katsuki moaned loudly, and despite the fact that he wanted you to stop, to give you time to adjust, his hands guided your head up and down, whining at the way your tongue pressed down on a certain spot, tracing one of his prominent veins as he screwed his eyes shut, “Fuck, just like that,” You felt some pride as he became undone from just your tongue alone.
That however didn’t stop him from resuming his previous movements, his fingers reaching deep inside your dripping pussy, curling upwards as his palm rubbed roughly against your clit, your moans reverberating around his shaft, causing an even louder one to escape his lips.
Your sticky essence was like honey, and he was a starved man as he tugged your underwear down, manhandling you as he gripped the meat of your ass harshly, squeezing and pulling at it as you choked, your nose being pushed into the little tuft of blonde hair at the base of his dick.
“Sh-shit, keep doing that,” His words were shaky as he slowly but surely reached his release, “Kō, keep doin’ that, fuck,” His hips shuddered as his cum sprayed across your face, staining you white as you staggered back, not sure if you had heard him correctly.
Kō.
The name echoed around the two of you, his eyes widen in terror as you inched away from him, wincing as he tried to grab your wrists, tugging back harshly as you fell back, thudding on your ass as you grimaced, disgust taking over as you wiped away at your face, shivering as you tried to clumsily pull your shirt back on.
“Y/n,” He couldn’t even say anything because he knew what he had said, knowing that despite seeing you right in front of him, her name prodded at his brain, ruining everything he had tried so carefully to build up the past weeks, “Please,” And even he didn’t know what he was pleading for.
Your little whimpers stabbed away at his heart, and he reached out, tried to bring you back into his chest just as you were there earlier, but you scrambled to your feet, one foot after the other as you stumble out of the opening of the cave as you left him all alone, leaving him to yell angrily into his hands, chasing after you only to realize you had all but disappeared.
—
You knew there were parts of this godforsaken that only you knew of, and for once you were grateful to be alone.
You felt every part of you deplete the moment you had heard her name escape his lips, so effortlessly as if he had been imagining her instead of you, and you had no doubt that he was, and it just made you wish you could rub every part of your skin off, scratch at it until his scent was gone.
It felt as though the past couple of days never happened, as if he was never poisoned, as if you hadn’t let him ravish you like a wild animal, and you curled your legs into your chest, resting your cheek on your knee as you gazed out, thankful for the flurry of trees for hiding you for any wandering eyes.
You should have left him that bloody day you found him. Should have left him when he asked for your help, and let the belladonna take over his system when you had the chance.
You hoped that in days you had refused to return to that stuffy cave a bear had found him or mauled him to death, or he had gotten poisoning from a rotten fish, or lost an arm to an unfortunate hiking incident.
A part of you said you were overreacting, that this must have been a mistake on his part. But how could you push the fact that he imagined her when it was you that tried to help him? The woman that fucked another man behind his back, yet he yearned for her instead of you. How could you pretend the way he shut his eyes and played with your hair, imagining it was his old lover instead of you or the way he’d mutter her name under his breath in his sleep, waking up only to feel dejected when it was you who woke up near him?
As the crows squealed you tuned them out, including the rustling of leaves, your head lifted slowly, and you jumped when you were met which his wretched face again, only this time he wasn’t stumbling stupidly out of the clearing, this time garnished with scarlet robes, perched atop a horse as other white mares made their way through, people dawned in armor behind him as he looked pitifully down at you.
The two of you stared at each other, as you had never met before, and both of your eyes lingered on the other lips, and you hated the way you instantly noticed that his shirt was unbuttoned so that more air would flow, but it also gave you a peek of his chest, the warm furnace that once comforted you.
Time stopped as he held his hand out, this time gloved, and it was like you had never seen this version of the man you were growing to despise as if this was your first time seeing the supposed cruel and heartless king of the south.
“Y/n,” His lips were a gentle pink, warm and welcoming, not like the ones that had managed to break your heart in a matter of seconds, “Would you want to come with us? I can give you asylum, anything you can ask for, I-I can give it.” He's pleading, you realized, and with his back turned to the rest of his men he could look as desperate as he wanted to.
His offer, the one you had been building your foundation of trust and loyalty on these past months, seemed so pathetic, so measly that you scoffed.
They had dumped you in these woods hoping that you’d die in a matter of days, maybe weeks if you truly fought your best, never expecting it to welcome you with open arms, letting you forget about the cruelty of the world and gave you a safe haven you never thought you could take for granted.
Until now, until he came, showing you the beauty, the fear, the lust the rest of the world offered, how it meant to be human, how it meant to hurt with one another, but you hated it, hated how it picks you apart until you felt just as you had when you were a kid; helpless, defenseless, alone. How could he offer you sanctuary when you felt as though he would only be like they were? The ones that ridiculed you, laughed at your every mistake, the ones that almost killed you the night of your brother's death,
You knew he'd push and prod at you until your skin cracked open and you bleed out, just another one of his whores that he threw to the side when a new one piqued his curiosity.
And as you studied his hand, you pushed it aside, your bare feet hitting the ground as you turn your back to the man you thought you could have possibly loved, the little gasps of surprise from his men as you turned down his offer, and he watched brokenly as you receded into the trees, your figure meshing with the green leaves and chocolate trunks, the sun sweltering overhead as you vanished away from sight.
#bakugo x reader#bakugo x reader angst#bakugo x reader fluff#bakugo x reader smut#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader smut#bakugo smut#katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader angst#katsuki x reader smut#katsuki smut#bakugo angst#katsuki bakugou#mha x reader angst#mha x reader smut#mha x reader#xreader#mha smut#mha fantasy au#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x you angst#bakugo x you smut#bakugou katsuki#mha x you#mha x you angst#mha x you smut
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Unlikely Companions (Daryl Dixon x Female reader/ PLATONIC! Carl x Reader) PART 2 !
Part 1: Unlikely Companions 1
here it is! Part 2. its a bit shorter but i hope you like it! Might make a part 3 :) heheheh.
“Oh, my sweet girl. I got you, I got you” Daryl was whispering sweet nothings and comfort into her ear. “(Y/N)” She looked up when a familiar voice called out for her. Two smaller arms wrapped around her neck and she looked back into Carls eyes. He was crying as well. Daryl looked very surprised, (and a bit angry) as Carl pushed him back to hug (Y/N). “I’m sorry I left you” He sobbed out. “Its okay, really I’m fine” It was hard being convincingly fine, when she was covered in blood with her shirt, and pants ripped open, and after just crying her eyes out.
“We should head back, you need to be checked out by Hershel” Rick spoke up. All the boys nodded. Daryl stood up and helped her up. When she was standing again, she noticed how bare she was. Her entire shirt was open, and bra was pushed down a bit. Her pants were unbuttoned and showed the front of her panties. “Oi! Quit ya’ starrin’! Fuckin’ perverts!” Daryl shouted and moved so he was blocking the guys view on her. A choir of ‘sorry’ came from the guys. They turned around and let Daryl help her get dressed. “Can you get my backpack? It’s the orange by the tree?”
“Why cant you get it yourself?” It sounded harsh and mean, but she knew better. She knew that this was his way of checking if she was hurt. “Okay, promise not to freak out too much” It was a stupid question, he was going to freak out even if she told him she broke her nail to hard. He nodded. “One of the guys might have stabbed me in the thigh, just a little bit though!”
“What!”
“You promised not to freak out!” She huffed out and moved her hand, that had been covering her wound. Blood was covering her hand. It didn’t really hurt, and she hadn’t noticed it until they stood up, that was mostly because adrenaline was still pumping through her body. She knew that when that died down, her bruises and wounds would hurt like a bitch. “Sit back down” He, carefully, pushed her down again and walked over to her bag. When he handed it to her she had buttoned up her pants. She fished out an hoodie. “Can the others see me?” She asked him, nervous about a group of strangers seeing her half naked. “Nah, I would beat’ them down’ if they peaked. Don’t ya’ worry’” He still stood in front of her and shielded her body. He looked back to make sure they weren’t looking, and yeah. They wouldn’t dare. But when his head turned back to her, his heart broke. She had taken of her ruined shirt and was about to put on her hoodie. But her soft skin was littered in bruises and scars, bruises and scars that weren’t there when they last saw each other.
He was going ask about the bruises, but she quickly covered the body with her hoodie, or more accurately, his hoodie. A smirked made it way on his (gorgeous) lips. The hoodie reached her down to her knees. “Come on, lets get you checked out”. He threw her bag across his shoulder, with his crossbow. (Y/N) was getting up, winching when she put her weight on her injured thigh. A gasp escaped her lips when she felt his arms wrap up under her thighs and behind her back, hoisting her up into a bridal style carry. (Y/N) didn’t protest and just let him do his thing, she knew he needed to take care of her.
When they got out of the forest, she saw a beautiful farm house with large acres. They walked over to the farm house. “Hey” She looked down and was met with Carl looking up at her. “Hey big man” He didn’t say anything else, just walked by her. “Carl!” Lori shouted and ran up to him. She hugged him and reached for Rick, “What happened?” When her eyes landed at (Y/N), “Who is that?”
“Hey, I’m (Y/N). Me and Carl have been camping together for- Will you please let me talk to her?” Daryl didn’t let her stay and chit chat with Lori. He walked straight pass her and into the house. “Nope, ya gotta get some medical help. Ya can talk later”. (Y/N) wayed back with an apologetic smile, to the very confused group of people. “Hershel! Where ya at!”. And old man walked out of what she assumed was the kitchen. He had an very annoyed look, until he saw her. “Who is this?”
“My girl, and she needs your treatment” Daryl didn’t let him answer and just walked into the room Carl had been staying inn when he got shot and laid her down on the bed. Hershel realized the importance of it when he saw blood on her hands and pants and the beginning of a huge bruise on her collar. “What happened”.
“Some assholes attacked her, she got stabbed and god knows what” Daryl gruffed out. “Where is the wound?” Hershel calmly asked, getting some equipment from a drawer. “On her thigh”
“Luckily that limits the damage, none of your organs are compromised” He sat down on a chair by the bed. Daryl was standing on the other side, holding her hand. “Now I am going to have to cut off your pants, pushing them down will only worsen the injury I’m afraid” She nodded, letting him do what ever just to heal her. Hershel carefully gut open her pants. Daryl didn’t like him having a knife so close too her skin, but bit back his complaints and worries. The stitching up went fine, though Daryl needed to hold her thigh down so she wasn’t squirming to much.
Even with the pain killers, her wound hurt, it hurt a lot! After the stitching, he had examined her head, concluding she had a concussion and a broken rib. Daryl had held her hand through the entire time. Never letting go. The darkness had reached the farm and Daryl and (Y/N) was huddled around a small campfire. She was laying in his arm crook, his arms and a blanket wrapped around her. It was silent between them, few words exchanged. But he would often place a kiss on her head and rub her arms and hands.
They only got a few minutes alone, until most of the group came and sat around the campfire with them. “Sorry, we wanted to let you guys have some time together, but we needed to ask you some question and get to know you a bit” Rick sat on the opposite side of them. Carl and Lori on either side of him. “I get that, I do! I’m an open book, ask away!” She wanted to seem as warm and welcoming as possible, knowing that Daryl was staring daggers at everyone of them. He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms tighter around her, almost using his arms to protect her.
“Before you all interrogate her, I just wanna thank you. Carl told me everything, and, and you saved his life” Lori was tearing up. “I want to thank you for saving him and taking care of him. For returning him back to us. Thank you” Rick nodded along, saying a thank you as well. “Can I ask a question?” Glenn was speaking up now. “I don’t mean to be rude, but how are you together? You are so, different!” This made her chuckle. It was true, they were very different. “Well, we met at the diner I was working at, and I don’t know. We just kind of clicked” She looked up at Daryl, smiling up at him. “For me it was love at first sight”.
As the night continued, (Y/N) answered all their questions and asked her own. Even though she couldn’t talk to Carl alone, she sent him some smiles through the conversation. He would always grin back. But she felt her eyelids becoming heavier and heavier. For the first time since the new world begin, she could sleep peacefully. She was never afraid when Daryl was holding her.
“Shhhh, (Y/N) is sleeping” Carl hushed everyone when they got a bit louder. They all looed over at her and sure enough, there she was; looking like an angel. “She didn’t sleep much when we were out, never more than three hours”
“Reckless woman” Daryl muttered out, wrapping the poncho tighter around her. He saw her shivering and saw the campfire dying down. “I’ll go get more wood” He didn’t allow anyone say anything, he just carefully lied her down (using his west as a pillow and slipped it under her head).
When Daryl disappears into the darkness, whimpering filled the camp. “Is she having a nightmare?” Lori asked. “N-no, get away” (Y/N)’s sleepy voice whispered out. “Should we go and get Daryl-” Carl stood up and walked over to her. “She did this last night, I can stop it” Everybody looked at Carl confused, and Lori felt her motherly protective side kick inn when Carl laid down next to (YN). She had to remind herself that too Carl she wasn’t a stranger and wasn’t a threat to any of them.
“What are you doing?” Rick whispered out, being very surprised when Carl threw his arms around her waist and snuggled into her back. Her whimpering slowly calmed down and eventually died down. No body could deny the sweetness of the moment between the two, it was clearly Carl had become very attached to her after their days in the woods.
“Oi! The hell is going on here” The sweet moment was cut short when Daryl retuned. He eyed Carl suspiciously as he stirred in the fire and added more wood planks. “She had a nightmare” Carl’s voice was muffled with her back. “I calmed her down”. Daryl felt his heart shouting at him, shouting for him to hold her and make sure she was okay. But there was something in the way, or more someone.
“Move kid” Daryl kicked at his feet, becoming tired of the child separating him from his love. Carl refused, snuggling even further into her back. Daryl was about to pull him off her when she turned around. She was still asleep but wrapped her arms around Carl and pulled her into him. Carl looked surprised but allowed her to pull him closer. Daryl huffed out but sat down next to her. His hands could not keep off of her and caressed her arm and back.
“Its getting late, we should head to bed. Como on carl” Fake snores could be heard from the young boy, hoping he could stay here if they thought he was sleeping. It didn’t work. “Nooooo” Rick pulled him up and carried him off, not without getting an ear full of complaint from the young boy. The incident woke her up, she looked around startled. Forgetting where she was. She sat up abruptly fearing the worst when she felt Carl being pulled away from her arms, reaching for her bow. “Its alright (Y/N), yar safe” Daryl reminded her that she was safe, no longer in the woods. She sank back down into his arms. “Go back to sleep baby, your safe” He reassured her and rubbed her back, calming her down, but she couldn’t sleep. Her body was so used to only three- or four-hours naps.
They both walked back to his tent, the wind picking up and they needed ‘walls’ to protect them from the cold winds. It was pretty small, so they had to huddle close together to fit on the small cot. She was practically laying on top of him (not that any of them mind). “God, I still can’t believe you’re here” Daryl whispered into the darkness. Her head was laying on his chest, being lulled into sleep by his steady heartbeat. “When it started, I went to your campus. But it was a mess, I feared the worst” She could hear his voice breaking. She lifted her head. (Y/N) knew to well what he talked about. When she left it was a mess. Dead everywhere. She barely made it out herself. Still amazed that she survived that.
“Don’t think about it, think about how I’m here! Were together and I am never leaving you” She was stroking his cheek, he nuzzled into her hand. “I know, I know. But, (Y/N), baby, I need to know. What happened to you before you met Carl” He was scared to ask, scared to hear about how she got her scars and bruises. She took a deep breath and told about how it took her a week to escape her dorm. Because the halls were filled with the dead, she was alone, starving, until she finally broke out. It costed her a lot, having too run through broken glass, and being pushed and pull by hundreds of hundreds of hands. Tears welled up in her eyes at the memory of having too drive her knifes and arrows into her friends and teachers. “Come her’ sweet girl” Daryl pulled her square against his chest. Rubbing her back. “It felt good to take care of Carl” She admitted. “To take care of someone and not being forced to kill was good” She would often take care of those around her, taking a motherly role. Daryl knew this, remembering how she would often pack him lunch, make sure he slept and getting him to take care of her.
“But when those guys attacked us” She held back a sob. “I was so scared Daryl. They held me down, a-and” she couldn’t finish the sentence. Daryl pulled her even closer, anger building up at the memory of finding them holding his girl down. “If you hadn’t come, if they had caught up to Carl, god, I cant think of what would have happened if they had gotten us both” Tears were rolling down her face.
“baby, we can’t thin’ too much about’ it. It will drive us’ crazy” Daryl could not stand the thought about what would have happened. “We need to sleep” He needed her to sleep. “I cant” He looked down at her questioning. She didn’t meet his gaze. “I’m afraid” His heart broke for the tenth time that day. “Ya need to sleep’, Carl told me ya’ haven’t slept good- so I will stay up and watch out, okay?” She was hesitant but agreed. Feeling safer knowing that he was watching over her, that’s how she was able to fall asleep at the fire.
“I will stay up for ya, stay up forever if I have to”
#the walking dead daryl#daryl x y/n#daryl x you#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon#daryl x reader#the walking dead#twd#carl grimes
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dadza & sbi
a continuation of yesterday’s ask-
hiiii i know i haz been lurk 🐮 Anoon for a good bitz but I haz an idea fro DadBoyHalo and Dadza(sepretz courze!!) havingz to take care of their very chaos childrenz(DadBoyHalo wif Sapnap + reader, Dadza with SBI + reader) ówò?
Thankz yuuuu!!!
-🐮 Anoon
🐮anon i am here with dadza! thank you for the patient waiting ;-;
i am referring to the samsung refrigerator as sam bc i have no clue what to address her as (ﾟωﾟ；)
this also went off track but whatever lmao
cw: swearing
dadza:
phil did not expect this when he decided to have kids. in the beginning, he was only planning on the one. wilbur was the sweetest kid ever when he was born. never caused any trouble, was peaceful. hell, the kid seemed like he would rather play music 24/7 before yelling at a single person. then again, his wife was always too caring.
when he traveled to the nether with sam, taking his son with him for the first time, he didn’t expect to acquire another kid. they were walking along an old path that had been made year before, when suddenly wilbur started shouting, pointing at a small pink figure.
the baby piglin was surrounded by bigger, larger piglins. they were trying to take his gold as he fearfully warded them off. sam, with her large heart, urged phil to go save the child as she protected wilbur. through a long fight with grunts and yells, he had saved the kid.
“hello, young one. are you alright?” the piglin regarded him suspiciously, not knowing if he would hurt him. phil, from the corner of his eye, saw the kid eyeing the gold on the ground. “you want your shit back, mate?” phil turned around and quickly picked up the goods. “here you go, kid.” and from there, he had suddenly acquired another ward.
within the next few years, tensions rose. the young piglin, who phil had named technoblade, was slowly learning english. he wanted to learn how to fight, to protect himself and not end up in a situation like the one phil had saved him from. sam did not approved of this, ever the passive refrigerator. phil and sam argued nearly all the time. wilbur and techno began spending more time together, out of the house.
“techno, it's not your fault. you know that right?” wilbur was walking with techno, his guitar on his back. the house was no longer a good place to hangout, so they walked into town.
“well of course its not, wil. i know that, at the very least. i’m just trying to protect myself, the same as phil does. in the future i could even win competitions, make us some extra money.” the two boys were walking and talking, when suddenly they ran into a loud blonde kid who was with someone else they couldn’t really see.
“hey! watch where you’re going, kid!” wilbur yelled a the shorter blonde, who knocked him over.
“oh, fuck off, will you? i didn’t mean to, you don’t have to be a prick about it.” wilbur looked flabergasted at this, a kid much younger than him having this type of mouth?
“hey! do not fucking speak to me that way, do you understand?” wilbur pointed at the two kids, looking like a so-called ‘karen’ in the internet compilations.
“oh come on, dude, you just swore and you look only a few years older than me! don’t be a fucking hypocrite.” you looked sternly at the brown-haired male, watching his mouth open and close, like a fish.
“wilbur, you know we both swore at that age. give them a break, will ya?” techno was smirking at the two of you, knowing he was pissing wilbur off.
“ugh, whatever techno. fuck off, mate.”
the two boys continued walking into town, done with the conversation. but your blonde friend, apparently, may not have been. “c’mon! let’s follow them!”
“uhh, why tommy? it’ll bring us nothing but trouble.” you were confused at what tommy was getting at, but you knew it was nothing good.
“and? trouble is my middle name, obviously.” he grabbed you hand and began dragging you in the direction the boys went.
when you arrived in town center, wilbur was seen talking to a shorter girl, while the piglin was arguing with a figure wearing green. tommy turned to you, “i’ll go talk to the cool one, you can go talk to the cunt who berated us for swearing.” knowing that once tommy made a decision he wouldn’t change his mind, you gave in.
walking over slowly, you noticed when you caught the boy’s attention. he looked over to you and his face darkened. “not you again… what do you want?”
“who’s this?” the girl he was talking to you looked over to you. you smiled at her and told her your name. “that’s a nice name. i’m niki.”
the two of you shook hands and she moved over for you to sit down. wilbur, begrudgingly, allowed you to sit and chat with them. for about three hours, you all sat talking. after a bit of pleading, wilbur had pulled out his guitar and was playing you a song. that was, until tommy ran over with techno as they were being chased a boy with a smiling mask, a boy with a white headband, and one with strange glasses.
“techno! what the fuck did you do now!?” wilbur stood up and began yelling at the piglin.
instead of a response, he was met with tommy screaming, “STOP CHASING ME, YOU FUCKIN’ BITCH! THIS IS CHILD ABUSE, I AM A MINOR!!! A MINOR!!”
“god fucking damnit, tech!” wilbur jumped up and dragged you with him. now all three of you were running from the boys.
once you had arrived in the forest clearing, wilbur was immediately on technoblade and tommy’s asses about what had happened.
“what. did. you. do.” wilbur was staring at them, his hands on his hips.
techno tried to explain, before tommy cut in “wilbur, i have done nothing. i was simply being a respectful citizen-”
“those terrible cunts were being terrible bitches to us, wilbur! they were threatening the blade here, saying we couldn't fight. but i showed them!” tommy seemed incredibly proud of himself.
“techno, what did this demon child do?” wilbur was staring at nothing, looking dead inside.
“i am now participating in a duel with dream tomorrow, at 4:20 P.M.” wilbur looked extremely pale at this, like he was begging god for mercy.
the four of you walked back to phil’s house. wilbur felt too guilty to leave you guys in town, especially when tommy had gotten into a fight with dream.
when you arrived at the house, phil immediately pulled you in, seeing that you guys were covered in cuts and bruises. when you went in, sam was nowhere to be seen.
“what the hell happened? why are there two very dirty children with you and why is techno smirking like that?”
after an explanation from the two of, phil began tending to your wounds. “wilbur, techno, go clear out the guest room for these two. we’ll talk more tonight. once you and tommy were nicely bandaged and clean, you were sent to the guest bedroom.
“you think we’ll be safe here, tommy?” you turned over to look at your friend who was in the bed across from yours. for years, you had been living on the streets, surviving off the bread the nice lady would provide you with.
“of course we will. we’re big men, you know that. besides, did you see techno over there? we’ll be just fine.”
“thanks tommy. love you, mate.” you smiled at tommy.
“night. love you too, big man."
in the morning, at the duel between technoblade and dream, it was suspenseful. even when you felt like he would lose hope, techno pulled through. even if sam had left and and was now in the dump, phil knew it would be okay. he acquired to new kids and would make sure they had a better life than the one they had before.
i hope you liked this one 🐮 anon! <3
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stone forest but it’s my fave moments from the comic that didn’t make it into the show
bc I love both versions of stone forest and bc I can 😌
first off, this guy sticks around after hilda gets the elf house off him and just follows her around and it’s really cute!! like, come on, just look at this guy and try to tell me he isn’t friend-shaped. he’s the only guy I trust. and he’s a piece of dirt
the elves cheering for hilda when she takes the house back!! wholesome, 10/10
meme format my beloved. I like to think that when david shows up in hilda’s drawer in the windmill episode it’s a reference to this panel :)
(putting the rest under a cut so none of my followers get tempted to vibecheck me)
okay, idk what’s going on with johanna’s whole vibe here but I love it. I bet she looks that way bc she’s wondering if hilda’s seen her gf
I’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, these two share a braincell. also hilda immediately takes this opportunity to sneak out to see frida?? (id include a pic but tumblr picture limit :(( ) anyway luke said frilda rights, thank u luke
even if she gets grounded immediately after this :(
the exaggerated ‘being sneaky(TM)’ poses…the comedic timing of the light coming on…raven looking more scared of johanna than he has any right to be…this scene has everything
okay so listen. listen. this one isn’t so much a “comics thing I wish was in the show” moment as its a thing that IS in the show and I have to mention it bc they made it so much BETTER. LOOK AT HOW FAR MY GIRL HAS COME
comics johanna: idk just stay behind me and maybe we won’t die
season 2 johanna: you wanna fuckin GO?
I don’t know which crew member looked at this scene and decided that johanna actually does not fuck around but I owe them my life
moving on
ok so for anyone who doesn’t know, everything in the actual ‘stone forest’ part of the comic is more or less the same but with one big difference - in the comics, alfur doesn’t come with hilda to trolberg, and david and frida are more minor characters who don’t even know hilda’s gone missing when all this goes down
so then who, you might ask, comes to rescue hilda and johanna from the mountain?? who steps up to this perilous task???
my
BOY
THIS GUY. SHOWS UP AND HELPS THEM GET OUT OF THE MOUNTAIN. y’all can laugh at me stanning this dude but he is the HERO of stone forest and I can’t believe he got robbed of his spotlight like this #straysoddeservedbetter2K20
oh and tontu and raven save johanna from the rocks in case you’re wondering. thank u tontu and raven, my wife lives to see another day
literally all raven does in this comic is help hilda fuck things up and save her mum’s life and I have no choice but to stan
this is rapidly turning into a stray sod appreciation post but like. this guy follows them all the way to the mountain, rescues them from a bunch of trolls and johanna’s first instinct is to put a mug on him. absolute icon. johanna just gives zero fucks in the comic and I’m so here for it. sometimes a family is a mum, her chaotic daughter, the house spirit and a piece of dirt 😌 (he doesn’t stick around much for mountain king and he’s hardly in the show at all but that’s okay bc he’s living in my heart rent free 🥺)
the ending is more or less the same and I ran out of images anyway so that’s it!! if u read this far down thanks for putting up with my stray sod appreciation stone forest comic post, I hope y’all enjoyed seeing me ramble abt the comics?? somehow?? in conclusion I love stone forest, thank u for your time
#this got very long and I’m so sorry to anyone who tries to read this jsksbsv#it’s stone forest hours in my brain rn#hilda the series#hilda netflix#Hilda and the stone forest#Hilda season 2#my post
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Following the Thread Transcript
AKA all the "canon" there is of Aiden. Google doc to save for easy reference is here. Providing this is entirely selfish of me, please use it and write some lambden <3
EXT. SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING
GERALT approaches a GUARD standing outside of a door.
GUARD: Don’t like folk wandering around here.
GERALT: Oh yeah? Well, got a beast you need someone to get rid of? I’m here about the notice.
GUARD: Ah, supervisor Lund posted it. Yeah, a beast haunts the outskirts, murdering folk. Got ‘em scared to leave their homes after dark.
GERALT: I’d like to talk to this supervisor.
GUARD: Too bad he don’t receive petitioners.
GERALT: So what’s he do, exactly?
GUARD: Delivery relief on behalf of the city council—flour and groats for the paupers. Meaning, he don’t do it personally. He’s got men for that. He, himself, he, uh. (GESTURES BROADLY)
GERALT: Supervises.
GUARD: Exactly!
GERALT: I aim to hunt down this monster.
GUARD: Best hurry, then. Some other bloke’s already after it.
GERALT: Who took the contract?
GUARD: Didn’t see the man. Was just told some brave fool’d turned up.
GERALT: When’d you find the last victim?
GUARD: Just last night. Hubert, a beggar, but a decent man. I’d let him sleep in the shed from time to time—that one, on the right. Eustace hasn’t come for the corpse yet. It’s lying in there, where I found it.
GERALT: Any eyewitnesses to these attacks?
GUARD: No, just the bodies. Beast appears only at night, chooses isolated victims.
GERALT: Thanks. So long.
Geralt goes to the shed and examines it, finding a puddle of blood that’s not human, and Hubert’s body, which is drained of blood. There’s ekimmara tracks in the shed that Geralt follows along the river’s edge, until they disappear at a dock. Geralt swims across the river and finds the tracks again, leading him to another building. Geralt notes that’s there’s rat corpses outside that have been drained of blood.
INT. DARK HOUSE
There’s the sounds of combat upstairs, blade clashing, an ekimmara screeching, and a whoosh from aard. Geralt rushes up the stairs to see LAMBERT fighting the monster. They kill it together.
GERALT: Greetings, Lambert.
LAMBERT: Damn, it’s good to see you, Wolf.
GERALT: Decide to do some hunting in Novigrad? Far as I remember, you never liked this city.
LAMBERT: Still don’t. Thing is, got a certain matter to take care of.
GERALT: What have you been up to? Any luck on the path?
LAMBERT: A lot, in fact. Quite the takings in Lan Exeter. Was asked to hunt down a giant, who turned out to be a forest troll and some bandits.
GERALT: Bandits?
LAMBERT: (SHRUGS) Came as a package with the troll.
GERALT: The matter you mentioned, anything I can help with?
LAMBERT: Hmm. Maybe. But we’ll talk about that later. Got our reward to collect. I’m kinda in a hurry. Let’s say you’ve earned half, what the hell.
EXT. SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING
Geralt and Lambert approach the guard from earlier.
GUARD: So?
LAMBERT: What do you think? We did what we had to do. Time to pay up.
GUARD: Wait here, I’ll go see the supervisor, get your reward.
LAMBERT: Do that ourselves. No reason you should leave your post.
Geralt gives Lambert a sideways glance.
GUARD: Hmm, can’t argue with that logic. Go on in.
EXT SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING, COURTYARD
Lambert and Geralt approach SUPERVISOR LUND in an outdoor space. There’s three guards milling around.
LAMBERT: We dealt with the monster at the docks. Here for our reward.
LUND: Witchers? Since when do you travel in pairs?
LAMBERT: Lots of dangers for a lone witcher. Bandits, for example.
LUND: I’d advise you to change your tone.
LAMBERT: Where’s Jad Karadin? Talk!
GERALT: Who?
LAMBERT: Trust me, Geralt. This is important. There’s something I gotta know.
LUND: I do not know any Karadin. Take your coin for the before and bugger off before I lose my temper!
LAMBERT: (YELLING) Where’s Jad Karadin? Asking you for the last time!
LUND: Guards, to the dungeon with them!
Lund runs out of the courtyard, and Lambert chases after him, leaving Geralt to fight the three guards.
INT. SUPERVISOR’S BUILDING
Geralt walks inside to find Lund cowering from Lambert.
LAMBERT: This guy’s more trouble than the ekimmara.
LUND: Karadin’s disappeared. I swear! The others, too! I only know of Vienne.
LAMBERT: What about Vienne?
LUND: She drinks at the Seven Cats. There day and night.
LAMBERT: See? You can be helpful.
Lambert unsheathes his sword and stabs Lund in the gut while Geralt watches. Lund collapses to the floor. Lambert turns to look at Geralt in challenge.
GERALT: That was murder. Was that really necessary?
LAMBERT: Yes.
Geralt shakes his head.
LAMBERT (cont.): More guardsmen’ll show soon. Let’s go. Meet me at the Seven Cats. Tell you everything there.
GERALT: The tavern Vienne frequents?
LAMBERT: Yeah. See you later.
EXT. SEVEN CATS INN
Lambert is leaning against a rock when Geralt approaches him.
GERALT: All right. High time you explained some things. Why’d you kill Lund? What’s this all about?
LAMBERT: Want the short version or the long one?
GERALT: Lemme hear the whole thing.
LAMBERT: Had a friend. Aiden was his name.
GERALT: You? Had a friend?
LAMBERT: Oh, hi-fuckin’-larious. I met him soon after I'd accepted a contract to lift the curse from the Ogre of Ellander. Aiden had been hired to kill it. He was a witcher from the school of the cat.
GERALT: Far as I remember, the ogre was killed in the end.
LAMBERT: Yeah, after it gutted my employer, we really didn’t have a choice. I cut a deal with Aiden. We joined forces, split the reward for killing the ogre between us. After that, we worked together a lot. Hands down the best man I’d ever met. I mean, I like you, you know that. Still, no comparison.
GERALT: What happened to him?
LAMBERT: Some time ago, Aiden took on a contract to lift a curse off a duke’s daughter. It was a political mess from the start. Then there was the hatred for the school of the cat to deal with.
GERALT: They worked hard to deserve that hate. Basically hired assassins.
LAMBERT: (SNAPS) Aiden wasn’t like that. (PAUSES, LOOKS AWAY) Anyway, some of the duke’s courtier’s had designs. Weren’t all keen on the curse being lifted from the duke’s first born. So, a band of trained assassins ambushed Aiden, murdered him. Our dear supervisor was one of them.
GERALT: And Jad Karadin?
LAMBERT: The assassins’ leader. And the one to deal the mortal blow.
GERALT: Sorry about your friend.
LAMBERT: Don’t need your sympathy, just your help. (PUSHES OFF ROCK HE WAS LEANING ON TO STRAIGHTEN) We have to talk to Vienne. Must’ve had enough to drink by now. Let’s go.
INT. SEVEN CATS INN
Geralt and Lambert approach VIENNE, a lithe elvish woman wearing a deep cut purple blouse with her dark hair in a braid. She has a drinking glass in front of her where she sits alone at a table.
GERALT: Vienne?
VIENNE: What do you want?
LAMBERT: We wanna see Jad Karadin.
VIENNE: (LAUGHS) Now why would I help you?
GERALT: It’s really important to my friend here.
VIENNE: And what will I get out of it?
LAMBERT: Pay for your beer, for starters. Then we’ll see how valuable your information is.
VIENNE: (CONSIDERS, TAKES DRINK) I was part of Karadin’s band, but… When was that? I don’t know where to find him; I’ve fallen out with the lot.
Geralt sits at her table.
VIENNE (cont.): Besides, he’s no longer chummy with his old mates. Word around town is he’s changed.
Lambert sits down, also, now.
GERALT: Karadin’s changed? What do you mean?
VIENNE: He’s dropped all his old connections, stopped taking on petty killings. He’s hidden himself away in some hole. Must be planning something big.
GERALT: Who else was in Karadin’s band?
VIENNE: Aside from me? Selyse, Hammond, and Lund. But they’ve scattered all over the world. Selyse went to Tretogor, Hammond to Skellige, and Lund—
LAMBERT: Lund’s dead.
VIENNE: (CACKLES) Finally met his match. Well, you’ve only Hammond or Selyse to talk to, then.
GERALT: What about you? What’s your story?
VIENNE: Scoia'tael was decimated, so I joined Karadin. They never treated me as an equal. No. I could hit a sparrow from a hundred paces, but I was never good enough for Karadin. He always preferred that cunt Selyse…
LAMBERT: You have a hand in the murder of the witcher Aiden?
VIENNE: Perhaps. I don’t remember.
GERALT: We need information about Hammond.
VIENNE: Karadin’s right hand man, once. When the band broke up, he went back to Faroe whence he had come. He’s a pirate, now. Even the jarls treat him with respect.
GERALT: This Selyse, where can we find her?
VIENNE: She’s done well for herself. Runs a brothel in tretogor, the kind rich men frequent. Whores suck information out of them, then she sells it.
LAMBERT: Name of this brothel?
VIENNE: The Black Lily. Selyse always did have horrible taste.
GERALT: (TO LAMBERT) Satisfied?
Geralt and Lambert both stand.
LAMBERT: She doesn’t know anything. We need to talk to Hammond and Selyse.
VIENNE: Don’t go looking for Karadin. If he senses you nipping at his heels, he’ll kill you without batting an eye.
LAMBERT: We’ll see. As for you…
OPTION ONE
GERALT: No, Lambert.
LAMBERT: Right, better to leave her like this.
VIENNE: What about my coin?
Geralt and Lambert exit the inn.
VIENNE (cont.): Arseholes.
OPTION TWO
GERALT: Do whatever you think is right, Lambert. Not here to preach morals.
VIENNE: (LAUGHS) “Do what you think is right?” Only one thing worse than cold blooded murder—hypocrisy. Informers, racists, snitches!
VAREN: Vienne, bloody hell. What is it?
VIENNE: They’ve come for me, Varen! I told you someone would, sooner or later!
VAREN: (IN ELDER) Don’t be afraid.
GERALT: Shit.
A fight breaks out in the inn and ends with Vienne dead.
EXT. SEVEN CATS INN—NIGHT
LAMBERT: You’ve gotta help me, Geralt. Best thing will be to split up. You sail to Skellige, try to squeeze something out of Hammond. I’ll go to Tretegor and try to get something out of Selyse.
GERALT: Lambert, let’s talk about this.
LAMBERT: Let’s not. This is one of those situations, serious situations, where you don’t ask unnecessary questions and just help your friend.
GERALT: Where’ll we meet once I’m back?
LAMBERT: At the Nowhere Inn.
GERALT: All right, I’m off. Good luck.
They both nod to each other, and the scene fades to black as Lambert walks away.
EXT. PIRATE’S SETTLEMENT, SKELLIGE
Geralt approaches two men standing guard outside of the settlement he’d been pointed to in order to find Hammond.
GUARD: Whaddya want?
GERALT: I’m looking for Hammond.
GUARD: What for?
GERALT: Business.
GUARD: He prays at the chapel on the hill this time of day. If it’s slaves you’re looking to buy, you’ll have to wait ‘til he’s done.
GERALT: He’s praying? Wouldn’t have thought him a god fearing man.
GUARD: Hmm. Yet it’s not something that would surprise any man who knows him.
GUARD TWO: Another snoop! You know the drill!
A fight breaks out with all of the pirates. After Geralt defeats them, he travels across the island.
EXT. HAMMOND’S SHRINE
Geralt walks into the shrine, and it’s an outdoor space with wide, curved beams driven into the ground that create a circle. Hammond is in the middle of the area in front of a pile of weaponry and shields. Hammond is shirtless and wearing a green tartan kilt with a wide leather belt. His hair is in a ponytail, and a leather strap encircles his left bicep. There’s a brown arm guard on the same arm, and there’s a gold band wrapped around his right bicep. There’s a large war hammer strapped to his back.
HAMMOND: Gods of the sea, I’ve never begrudge ye no gifts. Grant me another victory, so I can make an offering of me loot. (STANDS AND NOTICES GERALT) Fuck, what now?
GERALT: Heard you were in Karadin’s band.
HAMMOND: Fuckin’ say what you want. C’mon, spit it out, you arse lickin’ bastard!
GERALT: I’m looking for Jad Karadin.
HAMMOND: And just who the hell’re you?
GERALT: A friend of a friend. I’m looking for Karasin, thought maybe we could make some sort of deal.
HAMMOND: What, our business rubbing some Novigrad pricks the wrong way? Ploughin’ guild! (TO HIS GUARDS) Come on, what are you waiting for? Kill the fucker!
A fight breaks out and Geralt kills Hammond and his three guards. After, Geralt searches Hammond’s body and retrieves a letter on elegant stationary.
Hammond,
Thought I made it clear during our last face to face talk. I don’t want to keep in touch and I especially don’t want to do any business with you. I’ve no doubt the enterprise you proposed would be profitable. Nevertheless, to speak colloquially, count me out.
There are plenty of other potential buyers in Novigrad: goldsmiths, jewelers, and merchants dealing in luxury goods, for starters.
I don’t want to get involved.
Whatever you decide, I will wish you well in it. Treat this letter as our final farewell.
Karadin
INT. NOWHERE INN
Geralt approaches Lambert. Lambert is sitting at a table scattered with gwent cards and with a tankard in front of him.
LAMBERT: What the hell took you?
GERALT: Pretty likely Karadin lives in Novigrad. And he never severed ties with Hammond. They’re actually in business together.
LAMBERT: Mm. Learned something, too. He trades in, uh, live goods on the sly. Owns a ship called the Pearl of the Coast. Runs between here and Skellige. Changed his name, too, to Roland Treugger, who officially is a respected Novigrad trader and philanthropist. Has a residence in Gildorf.
GERALT: Anything on Selyse?
LAMBERT: Hmm. Well, didn’t have you there to stand up for her.
GERALT: All right, let’s pay Karadin a visit.
EXT. KARADIN’S HOUSE
Lambert and Geralt stand in a stone alleyway, looking at several guards.
LAMBERT: Think I know how to get in. Got a plan.
GERALT: If your plan doesn’t include dealing with an escort of guardsmen, best revise it.
The guards approach Lambert and Geralt.
GERALT (cont.): Calm, now. Let them start it.
GUARD: You’re expected. Come in.
Lambert and Geralt share a glance, and the scene fades to black.
EXT. KARADIN’S BACKYARD
There’s a child in a blue smock, who points at Lambert and Geralt and runs to Karadin. Karadin has yellow slitted eyes, dressed nicely, and there’s a sword at his hip.
KARADIN: Make yourselves at home.
GERALT: (TO LAMBERT) He’s a witcher.
KARADIN: Very true. Let me introduce my wife, Laetitia, and my two little tots. (GESTURES TO A WOMAN AND TWO CHILDREN SITTING IN THE GRASS) You know who I am, and I’ve heard of you. You’ve been asking questions about me. That always draws my attention.
GERALT: What school’d you come out of?
KARADIN: That of the cat. So few of us left.
Lambert sneers.
GERALT: Witchers can’t have children.
KARADIN: But they can have wards. Or take in a woman along with her children, embrace them as their own.
GERALT: I could understand a witcher becoming a hired assassin, but a merchant?
KARADIN: Why ever not? Not one among us doesn’t dream of changing our life. I simply did not stop at dreaming. They say no witcher has ever died in his bed. I aim to be the first.
LAMBERT: Remains to be seen.
GERALT: My friend needs to talk to you.
KARADIN: (TO GUARDS) Lads, take the children and Laetitia and leave us. Our guests wish to speak with me.
His family leaves.
KARADIN (cont.): I’m all ears.
LAMBERT: Talk to him, Geralt. If I do, first word he says to me, I’ll lose it and throttle the fucker.
GERALT: Nice place you got.
KARADIN: As it turned out, I’ve a flair for enterprise. Now I’ve coin enough to provide my family with the finer things in life.
LAMBERT: With some left over for philanthropy.
KARADIN: Miss Marabella’s institute does not scorn small donations. Neither does the city's Widow and Orphan Relief Fund, amongst others.
GERALT: Your wife know who you were?
KARADIN: We are thoroughly honest with each other, harbor no secrets. She prays for me each day. You know what? I think it’s working.
LAMBERT: Fucking hell.
GERALT: Relax, Lambert.
KARADIN: I confessed all just before we pledged to marry one another. Began a new life that day, with a clean slate.
GERALT: Remember Aiden? A witcher. Murdered in Ellander. Guessing the killers were paid well.
KARADIN: I remember him as I remember all the others—with the deepest regret. Yet Aiden was different, in a way. Contrary to rumor, we did not set out to kill him. We were forcced to, when he attacked us.
GERALT: What’s your version of this story?
KARADIN: Aiden had accepted a contract to lift a curse from the duke’s daughter. He took the coin, bungled the job, then left once the girl passed on.
LAMBERT: You lie!
KARADIN: We were not to kill him. We were debt collectors. He’d spent the coin already, so we demanded his swords. When he refused, tempers flared. Vienne, positioned as sniper, lost her nerve, hit Aiden square in the eye.
Lambert looks down. Geralt glances over at him.
KARADIN (cont.): Later, she devised her own version of the story. To silence her guilt, I expect.
GERALT: I’ve heard enough.
KARADIN: What now?
OPTION ONE
GERALT: You’ve changed. You have.
KARADIN: Forgiveness. It’s my sole aim now.
LAMBERT: You’re buying this bullshit? Bastard’s lying his ass off!
OPTION TWO
GERALT: You know what, Karadin? Your remorse—it’s feigned. Completely dishonest. You put on a good show, but I just don’t believe you.
LAMBERT: Don’t even know why we bothered with this chat. We came here to kill you.
OPTION THREE
GERALT: Maybe you’ve changed, maybe not. To me and Lambert, it doesn’t matter.
LAMBERT: You killed Aiden. Fuck your new life. I don’t believe in giving second chances.
OPTION ONE
GERALT: Do what you want, Lambert. Your friend, your vengeance.
LAMBERT: Been waiting a long time for this.
KARADIN: (UNSHEATHES SWORD) And I don’t aim to die.
A fight breaks out, ending in Karadin dead.
LAMBERT: Thanks for your help, Geralt.
GERALT: You’re welcome.
LAMBERT: Wanna talk about it?
GERALT: No.
LAMBERT: See you later. Some day.
GERALT: So long, Lambert.
OPTION TWO
GERALT: Leave him. Let’s go.
LAMBERT: What? Are you fuckin’ nuts?
GERALT: Lambert, this is one of those situations where you have to realize you’re pissed as hell, rein it in, and trust your cool headed friend. Let’s go.
LAMBERT: For fuck’s sake, Geralt. Don’t know that I’ll be able to forgive you.
GERALT: I said let’s go. You can always come back.
Lambert storms off.
KARADIN: Thank you.
Geralt sighs and walks away.
EXT. KARADIN’S HOUSE
LAMBERT: Explain yourself.
GERALT: Don’t intend to. Just felt Karadin didn’t deserve to be murdered in cold blood. If you feel otherwise, you can always go back. Without me.
LAMBERT: I feel like beating the shit out of you. See you later. Some day.
GERALT: So long, Lambert.
#the witcher#the witcher 3#aiden#lambert#lambden#following the thread#reference#contemplative writing
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CHAPTER THREE
NAVIGATION // Characters // Chapter Two
summary: Reader: female; 20 years old ; Apparently you know something… but what this something is you still got to find out.But curses, good and bad sorcerer now want to get you into their hands.Ending up in the hands of the good ones, y/n finally meets her old best friend again - Yuji. Now Yuji and his friends make it their mission to keep you save in this whole new world. Days turn into weeks and you become closer and closer to your ‚bodyguards‘
Warnings: slight NSFW (nothing explicit), mentions of blood (like only a drop of blood), bad writing in the middle bc i was unable to do it better andddd typos.
A/N: Hey.. sorry it took so long, but it was all so stressful and confusing with my BA. I don’t really like this chapter but i like the idea i got at the end of it haha Sorry if this is bad. Feedback, Comments, Reblogs are appreciated.
Your eyes widen and you quickly look down. Big mistake. Now your eyes are glued to his incredibly big muscles that show through his shirt.
You want to extend your hand and just touch them.
How is it possible for a human being to be this... this... just damn.
His arms cross over his chest. His biceps and triceps are flexed, slightly squishing his chest muscles, making them appear even bigger.
Your mouth hangs slightly open and your eyes begin to wander up again.
To his sharp jaw, then to a scar on the corner of his lips, his lips which look slightly chapped but still incredibly kissab-
WAIT.
STOP.
STOOOOOP.
Besides all the hot things about him the way he looks down at you, you feel frightened.
Raising his right eyebrow he chuckles.
And god it sounds hot.
“It’s not really polite to stare at the man you bumped into.”
“I- I- omg I’m sooo sorry.” You stutter and look down on your hands. He was right - you really embarrassed yourself right now.
“It’s fine, haven’t really felt it anyways.”
You really don’t know what to say or do, so you just keep on starring down at your hands. Something about him makes you feel so small.
“So... what brings you here babygirl?”
“Uhm.. just wandering around...” you mumble.
“Huh... and why is that?” He asks, amused by the state you’re in.
“Got too much on my mind.” You finally look up at his green eyes again.
There’s a glint in them.. but you can’t really make out what it is.
“Mhh you know I’m a good listener.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“Toji.”
“Huh?”
“My name- now you know me Y/n.”
“Wait how do you - wait no forget it, probably everyone around here now knows who I am.” You roll your eyes and plop down on the grass.
Toji sits down next to you and leans his head on his knee, looking over to you.
“So?” He asks.
“ I mean.. you probably know about the whole power thing and me right?”
“Yes I do.” He says and for a second there’s a small dangerous look in his eyes, which you obviously missed.
“And now they want to kill me, but this strange teacher promised me to not let that happen...” you sigh, “ but that isn’t really the real problem. Everyone expects me to stay here with them... But... no one thinks about the fuckin fact that I have nothing with me. Like I need some clean underwear? And my Uni stuff... and clothes... and arghhhh.... “ you sigh again and let yourself fell backwards into the grass.
“Oh yeah, why should you care if someone wants to kill you, when in fact the real problem is that you need to pass your finals.” He chuckles.
“I know I know... I just want to think about normal stuff..”
“I mean... I could distract you , if that’s what you want?” He smirks and glances down at you.
“Welll... depends on what we’re talking about.”
“Depends on what you want.” He lays down and rests his face on his hand.
Trying your best, you keep on starring into the sky and not look to your right.
A hookup with a hot stranger does sound like something that is appropriate to do during this time.
You bite your lip and keep on starring at the sky. The sun is slowly setting, which turns the whole sky into a beautiful pinkish orange light.
“Surprise me.” You say, trying to be cheeky, as you turn to your right and look at him.
Liking his lips, he smirks and gets up.
Confused you sit up and see him extending his hand.
Hesitating for a second, you finally lay your, comparably small hand, in his and he pulls you up as if you weight nothing at all.
“Where are we going?” You ask as he continues to hold your hand and drags you with him, further away from the buildings of the school.
“Mhhh you’ll see.” He simply says and keeps walking, slightly speeding up.
After a few more minutes, the buildings are barely to see and the anxiety starts creeping up inside of you.
Why the fuck did you go with a stranger.
A stranger that is way stronger than you.
He’s not that hot, at least not hot enough to risk your life.
At least you’re now walking down a street, with other people around... maybe if you scream loud enough...
“And we’re here.” He stops in front of a building.
“Wh..Where are we.” You stutter and look up at him.
“My apartment.” He smirks and opens the front door.
“Ohh..”
After five more pairs of stairs, he stops at the door down the floor.
“Come on in.” He opens the door and holds the door open for you.
“Don’t worry, I won’t kidnap you or anything.” He chuckles.
Carefully you walk inside and hear him closing the the door behind him, locking it.
Whatever you expect his apartment to look like, it’s not this.
The room, is rather a loft.
Most of the walls are covered in windows, that reach down to the floor.
The bed is on the right, the kitchen on the left.
Everything looks modern and simple.
The most prominent colors aren’t real colors - Black and white dominate everything.
Some green touches thanks to a few plants.
Two Katanas hang right above the wall over the bed.
The bed is rather low, yet big with simple white sheets.
The kitchen is white too, all the electro stuff black, the few dishes that are shown, look modern and expensive.
In the middle of the room, are two big black leather couches with matching arm chairs. In contrast to the rest of the room, those look old - the expensive kind of old, not the worn out old.
“You can move.”
Turning around you see Toji leaning against the closed door, arms crossed over his chest.
“Uhm..” You look around not sure where to go. You don’t even know why you’re here.
“The couch.” He lays his hands on your shoulders and shoves you towards said couches, pushing you down on one. The leather is soft and you immediately sink into them.
“Relax, I thought you’re more fun.” He rolls his eyes and runs his hand through his black hair.
“I - I shouldn’t have come with you.. Uhm.. the others are probably looking for me.” You stutter. You really should not be here. What is wrong with you. Coming with a stranger. A total stranger. Why did you say surprise me. This wasn’t you. You tend to be more careful.
“Mhh... well let them search. You’re here now.”
“You don’t get it, they said it’s dangerous for me being alone.”
“But you aren’t alone.” He smirks and leans down his finger tracing over your cheekbone, down to your lips.
“And who said, that I’m not the one they try to protect you from?” He leans closer.
You can feel his breath on your skin. Your heart races.
He is right.
You had a bad feeling about him all the time.
Why did you come with him.
Fuck.
Your phone, you need to text Yuji and sent him your location or try to escape.
But even tough you know this is what you need to do... Your body doesn’t listen to you.
“Perfect. I always like the bad ones.” And with that you kiss him.
Why?
You really don’t know. Your body moves at its own, while a voice in your head screams and tells you to run - yet your hands wrap around his neck and you pull him closer.
His hands find your waist and he easily lifts you up, carrying you towards his bed.
“That’s the distraction I had in mind.” You purr against his lips.
His kisses travel down to your jaw, neck, cleavage...
Opening your eyes you star at the night sky. Your fingers trace over the soft cold grass.
Wait what?
Why are you outside.
Why are you- wait are you alone?
Quickly you sit up and look around.
Yes. You are alone.
And still near the small forest.
But... why are you alone...
You talked with someone... what was his name again... Toji!
Where is he?
“Y/N!”
“Y/NNNNNN!”
“YES?” You call out.
From the distance you can spot two figures running towards you.
“Y/N!” Yuji screams and speeds up.
“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!” He screams and falls down on his knees.
“H- here..” you say and look up at the other person and screaming when you look into the same eyes you saw... what in your dream? Or whatever it was.
“What?” Megumi asks annoyed.
“YOU!”
“Me?”
“What’s with him?” Yuji asks confused.
“Uhmmm.. nothing.. I walked into a tree.. my head is still.. fuzzy.” You say, remembering your dream. Your hand reaches up and touches the exposed skin on your neck. You can still feel his kisses.
Who is he.
And why does he look like Yujis friend.
Confused you walk back to the dorms with the two.
On the whole way they complain about you not answering your phone, worrying them, etc. Apparently everyone was looking for you.
But shouldn’t anyone found you before?
You haven’t walked that far away...
___
It’s past midnight and you’re sitting on the ground in your room.
You can’t sleep and think back to when you arrived back at the dorms.
Everyone seemed relieved when you came back with Yuji and Megumi and asked where you’ve been. After you told them, leaving out the Toji part, Gojo was confused. According to him, he went through the while forest and you haven’t laid near it then.
You tried to lighten up the mood by joking about his blindfold, but he wasn’t in the joking mood and quickly cut you off and dragged you away from the others.
“Where have you really been?” He had asked you, without his blindfold on. His blue eyes practically starred into your soul.
“Literally where I told you.”
“IF you’ve been there, i would have saw you. Also... where did those come from then?” He asked you and pulled down your collar of your shirt. Dark blue marks cover your skin.
“I don’t remember me leaving them.” His eyes travel back up to your, now red, face.
“Uhm ... so ... I ...”
“Listen. I don’t care about whoever you’re fucking with, but keep your sex life low - at least until we figured out this whole mess. You don’t know about this world and who to trust and who not.” He stares at you and you only nod.
“GOOD.” He smiles, his character changed again.
“As a last resort, you know where my room is.” He winks.
There’s a knock on your door and you groan. Who tf visits you at this time.
“Yes?” You open it and before you can scream a large hand covers your mouth.
“Missed me?”
“Sukuna?!!” You mumble against his hand while he pushes you inside of the room.
“Yes my little pet.” He smirks and closes the door, “ When I remove my hand, you know better than to scream, yes?”
You nod and he removes his hand.
“Good girl.” He purrs and his sharp nail runs down your cheek and you feel your skin opening.
His eyes are fixed on you, while he brings his finger closer to his lips, licking up the small drop of blood.
“Beautiful. Just as I remember it.” His eyes roll back and a grin spreads on his face.
“I heard you had some fun today?” He opens one of his eyes and nods towards your neck.
“I- uhm... I don’t know.” You answer truthfully.
“Huh? Was it that bad?” He chuckles.
“No... I mean.. I don’t even know if it was real..” you open up to him.
Why are you opening up to him? TO HIM?
“Mh... that’s the seal puppy.” He smiles and sits down on your bed.
“Seal?” You ask confused and sit down next to him.
“This.” His finger tips on the spot on over your collarbone.
“The mark?”
“Yeah yeah... its real name is the infinity seal. When it’s activated an ancient power starts to ... well run trough your blood.” He lays down on the bed.
“You know ... it doesn’t only give power to others. It helps you too. Makes you stronger, faster, gives you some sort of sixth sense.”
“For what?”
“For well... Everything? My Queen... your... well ancestor I guess, told me it feels like a different person, living in your head... they warn you if you’re in danger, give you the right answer when you only have seconds to act, they just .. help you get what you want.. what you need.. what’s good for you...” he glanced up at you.
You immediately think of that strange feeling of your body moving against your will, while being with Toji.. was that ‘person’ telling you that you needed sex?? When you think about it, you really are less stressed now. Or were them the one telling you to run?
“You felt them?” He sits up and rests his chin on your shoulder.
“Oh yes... you did...” he leans closer to your ear.
“How did it feel like? Finally doing what you want to do... not caring about the consequences... or who you might hurt...” his hand creeps around your waist and pulls you towards his chest, “just doing what is good for You.”
“I- I- No... I felt bed,..., I knew the other would look for me and...”
“Nahhh nah nah... yet you didn’t listen to that part of you, why?”
“The other feeling was stronger.”
“See... They know what you want. What is good for you...” his fingers run up and down on your waist.
“Then... why .... why don’t I remember coming back here.” You stare at the door, not feeling his hand moving to your back pocket or realizing the situation you are in.
“You’re simply not used to the power. Your memories will come back eventually and the more you get used to them... you won’t get those blackouts.” His lips gaze over your neck.
“Why are you telling me all of this.” You breath out.
“Because I want you to trust me.” His hand leaves your waist and grabs your chin instead, turning your head to face him, he adds, “And I want you to know everything. I know that the white haired idiot won’t tell you everything. He’ll simply tell you what will help him - but I … I want you to understand the whole power, I want you to know everything before you choose to share this power with someone.” His thumb rubs the skin on your face.
“Sukuna..” you whisper and stare in his eyes, “what if they decide to kill me..”
“I already said that I won’t let this happen.”
“But … you’re only one person…. And they seem to be .. powerful…”
“Ohhh you don’t have to worry about that- I will protect you.”
“Thank you.” You gently smile at him.
“Now … I have to go. The brat will wake up soon.” He says and gets up, walking towards the door.
“Goodnight y/n.”
He walks outside and you fall down on the bed.
Behind your closed door, Sukuna licks his lips and looks down at the old finger in his hand.
TAGLIST (open): @laceymorganwrites, @nnessworls , @irreverent-dream , @fiona782 , @shadyjinyoung, @kasianthus @hello0i
#jjk headcanons#jjk x reader#jjk oneshots#gojo x reader#toji x reader#jjk hcs#jjk imagines#jjk x you#toji headcanons#toji x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x reader#jjk smut#gojo x you#gojo headcanons
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The First Time She Met Daryl Dixon
Part of the 'Call Me 'Darling'' Series
(Daryl Dixon x unnamed female character)
The first time she met Daryl Dixon was not pleasant.
“Fucking Shit!”
It wasn’t long after the fall. The time of indescribable horrors. The day the dead began to walk the earth.
“You useless shit” a feminine voice rang out in exasperation, met only by the greenery that surrounded. Tears pricked at frustrated eyes as small, dirty fists beat aimlessly at the soft earth beneath. The roots of a nearby tree grazed along knuckles, breaking the skin there. An unintentional hiss left trembling lips as sad eyes observed the fresh blood appearing.
She had found herself alone in a dense wood somewhere near farmland in Georgia, drifting aimlessly, no destination in mind. Attention on the songs of the wild birds. The music of the forest being the only company had in days.
In dazed wandering, clumsy feet had met a large tree root protruding rather rudely from the ground. It met her right foot violently, causing herself to stumble harshly while holding the appendage prisoner. The attached ankle twisted painfully as her warn body was thrown forward and forced to spin, landing unceremoniously on her obnoxiously generous behind.
An advantage only when the clumsy feet betrayed her. Something that happened more often than her ego would like to admit.
A glare that could almost kill, along with some less than lady-like language was aimed at the battered ankle. It lay life-less and throbbing next to the offending root, almost mocking with its silence.
A twig snapped far too near for comfort. A rustling of leaves alerting to a nearby presence. In such a vulnerable position, the woman mentally chastised herself for becoming too distracted to hear the oncoming intruder. Almost definitely one of those undead fucks stumbling across a yummy young lady laid out like a buffet.
Her head whipped around to peer behind with enough force to cause the joints of her neck to let out a crack. A sound that went unnoticed as a sharp gaze found a man staring at the crumpled heap she currently was. He seemed alive enough as he pointed an intimidatingly large weapon at her head.
Is that a crossbow? The thought shot through her mind before returning swiftly to the danger that was presented. It wasn’t something you’d ever expect to see in real life, let alone have pointed at you. Far more intimidating than a gun it seemed due to its unexpectedness.
The man holding the weapon was rugged. Short brown hair and clothes had seen better days. Gaze locked with the most vibrant blue eyes. An intense silent battle taking place between said eyes and her own.
“Ya kiss yer mother with tha’ mouth?” His voice was gruff. Deeper than expected. It held a soothing quality even in its accusing tone.
“Not if she was alive” A deadpan tone returned, eyes narrowed as the gaze turned cold. He only grunted in response. A shiver ran unexpectedly down her spine. Probably just caused by the very pointy stick he had ready to be catapulted through her skull.
“What are ya doin’ round here?” he questioned more aggressively this time. The hints of playfulness had disappeared. This man meant business and she didn’t doubt he would shoot her with the intimidating weapon if he felt the need to.
“I’m having a teddy bears picnic, can’t you tell?” An overly sweet voice quipped back unwisely. Suspicious eyes only narrowed in return as the grip seemed to tighten on the bow.
“Okay” A tired sigh left dry lips. “I was just wandering, looking for her next meal and place to sleep. I fell over this damn tree”. Trying not to feel embarrassed by the statement, her gaze wandered the muscular upper arms visible due to the missing sleeves that seemed to have been forcefully ripped away.
“I take it by your defensiveness that your camp is near here” she queried. “Don’t worry, I won’t go near it.”
“Better not. Now get outta here before it ain’t a choice.”
Eyes rolled at his threat. “Not very welcoming are you?” The question was met only by silence.
“Fine, I’m going.” She stated as weak arms pushed herself to her feet, forcing the rapidly bruising ankle to take the weight. Attempting to ignore the pain in refusal to look weak in front of this rude man. The backpack that slid from aching shoulders during the fall was slung back into place and the dagger that had saved her life numerous times secured in a determined grip.
“Nice to meet you” her defeated voice rang sarcastically before turning and limping away as fast as able.
“Asshole”
---------------
Many months passed without a thought about the rugged man. Surviving alone could be very distracting after all. Jumping from abandoned house to worse smelling abandoned house with the hopes of a safe nights rest. Never knowing where the next meal would come from or even if there would be a next meal.
The weight dropped off at a concerning rate. Concerning only because there was a good chance of being eaten by the dead because her trousers fell down. What a way to go. She died as she lived. Falling over.
Eyes raked over the forest floor in search of life. Trusted dagger held securely in her dominant hand, poised ready to strike should dinner appear suddenly. An unexpected commotion seemed to begin somewhere to the left. Ears guiding rushing feet towards the sound in hopes of a large animal to catch. The grumbling of her stomach agreeing with the silent statement.
Upon the arrival at the scene, crouched down behind a shrub, her small body was easily hidden by the undergrowth. In immediate sight was the back of a man. Keen eyes would not have recognised him so immediately if not for the missing sleeves on the dirty brown shirt. He was facing off with four of the dead. A knife raised high in his right hand seemed to be his only weapon. A glance to the side revealed the crossbow a few feet away. Far less intimidating when not pointed at ones head.
Logic said he couldn’t reload the damn thing in time to shoot the fuckers one by one. She however had not been spotted by the dead and was only about 3 feet from the weapon.
Daryl began to panic as what felt like a never ending amount of walkers came at him. He couldn’t kill them all at once and his knife wasn’t doing much good. He’d resorted to desperately shoving them backwards.
The walker directly in front of him was big, standing at least 6 foot tall and charging with a purpose. It managed to knock him to the ground, the snapping jaws aiming to rip Daryl’s face cleanly away. It was prevented only by an increasingly weakening forearm to its neck.
Thick black blood oozed from the tear in its jugular, dripping grotesquely onto its struggling prays jaw and throat. Should Daryl open his mouth he’d be treated to a very unfortunate final meal.
‘This is it’ thought Daryl as he frantically felt around for the fallen blade. ‘I’m gonna fuckin’ die.’
Daryl’s rapidly beating heart seemed to stop dead as a bolt from HIS crossbow shot through the top of the walkers head to protrude from the now permanently dead man’s mouth. The sharp tip pointed directly between sky coloured eyes.
With a confused sigh, his head leant back to peer behind at the crossbow which lay exactly where he had left it. The unsightly corpse was shoved unceremoniously off of the hunter as he realised suddenly that there were no walkers after him.
It took a few seconds to come to his senses as he observed the 3 other walkers already dead on the ground nearby. Steely eyes flickered up to the small woman standing a few feet away, casually wiping a bloody knife on a large leaf. Confusion only grew as he stared at the calm woman who acted like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. A look of boredom on her face.
Smug eyes flickered to the side where the rugged man still sat stunned on the ground. An involuntary smirk forced its way onto her face. It was so difficult to keep the bored look when the handsome mans jaw was practically on the floor.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” This seemed to snap him out of his daze. His mouth clamped shut audibly as an irritated expression took over.
“Daryl” was all he said as he made his way slowly to unsteady feet.
“Well Daryl” she chimed nonchalantly “You’re welcome” before turning and once again walking away from the shocked man.
---------------
Most nights she dreamt of the undead. Snapping jaws, inches from her face. Dirty, broken nails on rotted flesh, grabbing at her skin. Thick black blood filling her mouth and claiming her lungs.
Sometimes she would dream of family. The life lived before. Laughing faces and sweet smiles. Little girls with pigtails and pink dresses. School days sat on the grass in the sun. Underage drinking in the park. Splashing in the cold sea. Golden sand between painted toes. Faces not seen in years.
And sometimes she would dream of the most beautifully pure blue eyes. Those eyes were the most haunting.
Stayed local to the area, familiar terrain was an advantage. It was only a matter of time until she stumbled across it. The prison. The opposing grey buildings would have been of little interest had it not been for the suspicious lack of dead ones.
Upon closer inspection there appeared to be crops growing in the grounds. A variety of luscious plants living in neat rows. Every so often a mop of brown hair would appear within the greenery. A slender teenage boy who tended the food.
Witnessing silently from the branch of a nearby tree, never daring to make a noise or risk being seen. People were after all, dangerous.
Many others appeared within sight in the hours observed. Some seemed to be on lookout. Some pierced the skulls of dead ones through the fence. Many simply socialised and basked in the sun. Although not terribly interesting, it was the most entertainment had in weeks. Quite like a trip to the zoo, watching them in their natural habitat. There seemed to be little of concern and just as the tired woman considered slipping away to find her own refuge for the night came the startlingly loud rumble of engine.
--------------
Far louder than that of a car, approaching the fence that opened in entrance to the structure was a motor bike. Another thing unexpected at the end of the world. The more shocking factor however being the slim figure and mop of brown hair that sat astride. The fear-provoking weapon strapped to a wing adorned back. Her rugged man.
Any idiot with half a brain would know not to approach the prison alone unless they desired an arrow through the head. But there was something about this man. The incessant need to see him again. To hear the drawl of his voice. To see that pretty face up close even in the snarl that was sure to be aimed at her. Luckily, Mr Dixon, hunter and gatherer extraordinaire didn’t seem to spend that much time in the prison. The outdoors suited him far better.
Daryl treaded stealthily through the thicket, bow aimed low and eyes alert. His ears strained in search of a living creature. He swore his heart leapt from his chest at the sudden noise slightly behind and above him. Startled feet spun so fast he stumbled.
“I like your hair. Suits you”
The feminine voice presented no unease due to the deadly weapon pointed directly at the source. A raised eyebrow prompted Daryl to lower the thing before accidentally shooting.
“Bloody ‘ell woman, where’d ya come from?”
“Bit of a personal question. Don’t you think? You don’t even know my name yet” the voice quipped with a smile. Feet landing gracefully on the ground in front of the alarmed man as she dropped from the low branch.
Daryl grumbled, dropping his eyes which only caused her grin to widen.
“What’s yer name then?”
“Can’t tell you that. Stranger danger.”
“Think yer the only danger ‘round ‘ere.”
“You think too highly of me, Darling.” Lips smirked as light fingers gently raised Daryl’s chin to meet devious eyes.
His shining orbs widened comically at the gesture. “Darlin’?!”
The outraged tone of the statement served to strengthen the ever present accent.
“Oh I do like that.” Smirk turned to a full grin. “Call me Darling.
----------
They couldn’t seem to keep away from each other. Well she couldn’t keep away from him anyway. He’d always go in search of food and the menace would always appear seemingly by magic. She intrigued the man and she knew it. The way his eyes followed her form was like he wanted to figure her out. Solve her like a walking puzzle.
She craved his voice. It soothed something inside her. Somehow made the state of the world forgettable. Hours were spent together without notice. He didn’t speak much but he always listened intently and usually had a smart remark to counter her regular jabs. Teasing Daryl Dixon was always her favourite part of the day.
He never asked where she was going, was staying or why she was always alone. He didn’t seem to want to burst the secret little bubble they’d made for themselves. Something both were happy to keep intact as curious eyes secretly watched the prison.
It was getting progressively more difficult to live alone in the wild. When Daryl went back to his cosy home with his friends at the end of the day her tasks were to go in search of food and a place to rest her head. She would never confess her struggles. He would want to help and her pride wouldn’t allow it.
At her lowest she found herself slumped in a corner of a dingy old house, curling in on herself. The small fire haphazardly made almost burnt out, the strength to go in search of more kindling evaded the weak woman.
Just as she hadn’t seen the face of her favourite person, her body hadn’t seen water in days. Food even longer. If this was how she was to go out then so be it. She’d survived this long alone and that’s all that mattered.
Her vision swam as black spots appeared. There was no control left of her body as it slumped sideways, striking her head against the wooden floorboards as unconsciousness consumed entirely.
---------------
Daryl panicked when she wasn’t at the usual spot. She was always there when he went to hunt. He had no idea how she knew when to find him but she did. He often questioned if she was real. This mysterious girl that no one else had ever seen could so easily be part of his imagination.
He remembered how Rick had seen Lori for so long after her death. He’d spent so much time alone out in the woods that it wouldn’t surprise him if his mind had made up the annoying woman that he couldn’t stay away from. No, she had to be real. Even Daryl’s mind couldn’t tease him like she did.
He began by wandering in the direction he had last seen her go as they parted, knowing there was a nearby town that could offer some food and protection. As gravel crunched beneath old boots in place of the usual dirt and neglected buildings began to rise on either side of the man, it became clear that the area was empty. Motionless walker bodies lay scattered around, each seemingly had received a knife through the head.
The smell was overpowering as the hunter contemplated why they hadn’t been burned. Perhaps she was only passing through. Perhaps she simply didn’t have the strength.
Tracks were clearly visible all through the town. Mostly bloody, they led into every single building. Daryl sighed. He was sure by the small stature of the print that they were hers. The woman that so desperately clung to his mind had clearly been here. Yet he had a feeling she was still here. She wouldn’t just leave him, would she?
Daryl could almost hear Merle’s voice echoing in his head, calling him a whipped little bitch. He scowled at the thought but just couldn’t stop. What if something had happened to her?
----------
Sharp eyes scanning the area, he could clearly visualise the woman clearing the place, killing walkers and scavenging for the food. His eyes drifted to the last house to the left. The windows were boarded and the door was shut. A trap lay set in front of the building. It was clearly the most secure place. His feet carried him almost involuntarily towards it. Towards her.
White light pierces blackness. Heart beat rising. Blood rushes ears. Footsteps sound a million miles away.
Gentle knuckles brush cheeks. Rough fingers press pulse point. Fluttering eyelashes attempt in vain to open.
The earth tilts sickeningly as her body is forced into sitting position. The sound of ringing slowly transitions to the calling of her name. The familiar voice causing an upturn of lips. Her rugged saviour.
Cold liquid is raised to parched mouth. Gulped down greedily without thought. Hands fly to grab the bottle. The best water ever tasted. An appreciative groan as eyelids are forced to rise. Blurred vision soon clears to reveal shaggy brown hair that begs to be touched.
His name leaves her lips in struggled whisper. His eyes are hard with judgment and underlying concern.
“Why the hell didn’ ya tell me?” some form of food is held to her chin.
She doesn’t take not what as her eyes shift away in shame and her arm weekly brushes it away.
“I don’t want your food”
“Well ya clearly need it. Ya look like hell.” His teeth grind in annoyance at the usually stubborn girl. Her head shakes in response, causing the black spots to momentarily return.
“I don’t need saving, Prince Charming.” He guffaws at the name.
“I aint no prince, nor ‘nything charmin’.”
She needed him gone. She couldn’t bear the look of pity in his eyes. The worry on his features. She wasn’t anyone’s problem.
“You shouldn’t be here. Just go back to your damn prison. The irritation clear in her voice. Almost missing the way his vibrant eyes widened.
Shit. She realised her mistake a split second too late.
“How the fuck do you ya know ‘bout tha’?” She’d never heard him sound so angry and even a little scared. Knowing full well that if they found she knew about their home that they wouldn’t just leave her alone. She was dangerous to them.
Nervous eyes flicker everywhere but at the face that stared her down.
“I’ve been watching. Had to know if you were dangerous.”
“An ya didn’ tell me”
“Would you have let me go?” It was Daryl’s turn to look away in shame.
“Nah. Would have to tell ‘em ‘bout ya” He sighed defeated.
“Exactly.” Their eyes clashed in a battle of wills, silently debating what would happen next. After a beat, his eyes shined in a way that determined a decision had been made.
“Yer comin’ with me” He stated assertively.
“No” she countered plainly, offering little room for argument.
“Wasn’ askin’.” Before further refusal could leave her, strong arms surrounded her. He rose to his feet, cradling the surprised woman to his chest. Her bag hanging from his right hand where it curled around her knees.
Her malnourished body was slow to react. Sluggishly moving to press at his firm chest in protest. He easily made his way out of the house and to the far end of the street where the bike sat undisturbed.
The fresh air aided in clearing her senses. The situation she was in becoming evident to her irritated mind.
Gently set down on the leather seat, she was released from the sure grip.
“Fine.” A resigned smile as the cogs of her mind began to spin. “I’ve got another bag though. Brown satchel. Must still be in the lounge.”
He nodded. “Alright, I’ll be right back. Don’ move.” Turning and jogging back into the house.
The moment his right foot made it over the threshold, the loud roar of the bike engine caused his heart to sink.
“Son of a bitch!” Fast feet threw him back out the door and half way down the street but it was too late. His mysterious girl was gone and so was his bike. A lone bag lay in the spot it had previously been in. His own bag containing the water and food he had offered her.
The walk back to the prison was long, made worse by Daryl’s rising anger. Refusing to interact with anyone upon his return, he had his way into the empty cell where he refused to sleep but went to for privacy. Throwing himself down onto the lumpy mattress, he glared at the underneath of the top bunk. His mind swirling with images of her devious smirk.
---------------
Two days later he was woken at the ass crack of dawn by Glenn frantically calling his name. As the sun had appeared over the horizon so had his bike, propped up on its stand just outside the gate. Next to it lay a cardboard box full of baby formula as an apology.
Daryl of course went looking for her, but she no longer appeared. Weeks were spent without a trace of her until another box of formula appeared outside the gates in the dead of night. Sat atop this one was a small stuffed elephant, the perfect size for little ass kicker. Soft and clean as if straight from a baby shop.
Next to it a small piece of paper. In loopy handwriting it read ‘Stop looking for me, darling. It makes me miss you more.’
He thinks he can let her go. Thinks he can carry on living. Barely thinking of her during the busy days but she appears in his dreams. Reliving the sweetest moments between them behind closed eyelids.
“Come back with me.” His sombre voice breaks the silence.
They had somehow ended up leaning against a railing on the edge of a rooftop. Forearms against cold metal, they basked in the glow of a setting sun. Features basked in orange light, he watched her shyly.
They both knew that they should retreat to safety before darkness fell but neither could bring themselves to leave the others company. Peace consumed them as they absorbed the view laid before them like a renaissance painting.
Her head tilted as her eyes searched his face contemplatively.
“Ya always leave me.” His dejected words caused an ache in her chest.
“Why won’ ya stay with me” He asks earnestly.
“I can’t” Eyes cast downward at the sudden urge to shed a tear.
“Why? They’re good people. Rick an’ Carol an’ lil ass-kicker...” His fists clench as the unfamiliar emotions stir within him. His stare fixed on the setting sun.
“Exactly. You’re a family. I don’t belong there. I can’t. I can’t lose anyone else.” Her eyes squeeze shut as pain consumes her.
“So I don’ mean nothin’ to ya?” His voice strains.
“You shouldn’t” Her voice is a soft whisper.
His head turns to question her answer but she’s already gone.
“Darlin’?”
He’s woken suddenly by the sound of Judith’s cries. Greeted only by the sight of the bunk above him. He decides he’s going to find her. He has to.
But he doesn’t. Because soon enough the sounds of gunfire and screams is all that’s heard as the prison falls.
A/N - Here it is, the first thing I've ever written recreationally. It was so much for difficult than i expected. I feel like i'm handing over a steaming pile of rubbish but here you go! I hope you enjoy.
@pandorahurtsx @winchestershiresauce @sunflxwerbullet @holliss @haruhey @lilythemadqueen @dixonextracts @daryloverdixon
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DWC Day 1 - Reunion - Daily Writing Challenge Entry - Mega Goes Home
[ This scene takes place after a two year storyline between the FBC Guild that I’m the GM of and a personal storyline between Megahes and his Fiance, Naturasu. During this time, Megahes was cursed by a Cultist to slowly die from an agonizingly painful hex that was slowly killing him and all hope of its curing/removal was stripped away when this Cultist was killed during the conflicts. Ammaelin came to save Megahes (and acquired some ‘favors’ along the way) by using fractured shards of a Naa'ru to force Megahes into becoming Light Forged in a sense. This process took several years thanks to the manipulation of time via magic and while Mega felt the strain of three-four years of work, for everyone else it was roughly eight to ten weeks before his return. ]
The Zeppelin ride to Orgrimmar was agonizingly slow, probably more than any other ride Mega had ever had on one before in his entire life. It was enough to drive him mad and the longer it took in combination with the closer it got to taking him home to Naturasu the worse it became. The goblin fidgeted, tugging at his clothes and making sure all the buttons on his shirt were done properly. His sleeves still crisp and the ironed lined still present. Hell, he even fought with the rolled up sleeves and their buttons that kept them pulled up to his biceps. The wait on returning home was killing him.
What was Nat going to say when he walked in the door? This reunion between her and him played in his head a thousand times just today alone, he couldn’t even count the amount of times that he played out similar scenarios while he was away.
“Nervousness does not become you Mister Frostbite.”
The voice was formal and flat, its source coming from a blinding armor clad Blood Elf that stood several feet higher than himself. Crimson red hair blowing in the breeze thanks to their mode of transportation. Ammaelin, the Blood Knight who was responsible for the absence that proved to be a miraculous, and most likely a very heretical, healing process. If one could butter their bread with his smugness, one’d choke on it just from looking at him.
“I’m aware, but that doesn’t make it any less. I been gone for three years now.” He quickly brings up a hand to stop the Elf, they’ve had this conversation several times before already. “And I know, I know. Months for her, for everyone else. Years only for You, Me and the others. But still years for me…”
“We did what needed to be done, especially in regards to our agreement. You would have surely died otherwise.” Ammaelin’s head turns if but barely, just enough to cast a glance down upon the golden metal that was imprisoned into Mega’s flesh near his wrists. “You are lucky that you had those shards hidden away. Had any other Paladin known you held those, my brother's curse would have been the least of your concerns. I have no doubt the Church or the Draenei would have come marching on your doorstep…”
Megahes’ face contorts as draws upon sarcasm to mock the Elf.
“I have no doubt…” Mega blows a massive raspberry in the Paladins direction, which causes him to turn and look back upon the horizon, not giving in to Mega’s provocations. “Look. I know how risky tha thing was and I appreciate what you did and I get that I owe ya. But… all’a that aside. I’m just nervous man. What if…” He just stops and breathes, voice quivering a bit as his eyes begin to moisten, forcing him to stop and look back over the side of the Zeppelin once again.
“If she doesn’t approve or she’s moved on due to thinking you dead or not coming back?”
“I mean, I could have put that in better words, but yeah.”
“I think perhaps you worry too much.”
Megahes grumbles and sighs, running his hands up and down his face several times before they slide into his hair, where he just grabs hold of himself and pulls out of frustration only to realize he’d fucked it all up. His head shakes and he sets out to fix his hair as best he can, a nervous tick, to be sure.
Mega was about to open his mouth to retort, but the Paladin stopped him by pointing to the horizon. Pandaria’s Jade
Forest. Pillars of tall stone began to rise and fall down into gorgeous forests, rolling hillsides and lily and reed filled rivers. The air was crisp and something about it just filled one's body with a rejuvenating sense of purpose and peace. “We’ll be at your domancile shortly, Mister Frostbite. I suggest you gather your things and we’ll drop you off directly.”
If Mega wasn’t nervous before this, he sure as hell is now! His nearly trips… Well, he does actually, right over his own two feet and in a fluster, he looks about for something that wasn’t there before he speedily heads towards the cabins to gather his bag. He’d had this ready hours ago. It wasn’t much, he had no time to prepare for this little ‘retreat’ of his, which he was thankful for now as he threw it over his shoulder.
He pauses and looks over at Ammaelin. “For as big of a pain in tha ass ya have been these past couple of years, thank ya. Truly. If it wasn’t for you and them Priests, I wouldn’t be makin’ this trip back.”
Ammaelins’ face during this brief statement was a rollercoaster! Disdain and irritation appearing quickly was soon replaced with an oddly peaceful smile by the end of it. “Our time has taught us much, Mister Frostbite, about a great many topics. It has been… enlightening.” His choice of words being an intended pun and irony placed upon Mega.
There were no hugs, no great exchanges of physical emotion. The two just look at one another before Mega turns and descends into the bowels of the Zeppelin so he can board the loading platform and get lowered down to his home.
Their home.
Gold, this was excruciating. The platform lowers slowly, painfully so, at least to him. Each inch makes Mega’s ears pound so hard that he can hear them in his ears and if it got any higher in his throat, he’d choke. “I’m gettin all nervous for nothin’, she probably ain’t even home. Probably in Orgrimmar havin’ some drinks or workin’ at the Knot.”
He blows through his lips with enough strength to cause a slight whistle. Stress and worry, all self-induced of course, at how this was going to go. He was happy, no doubt, but worry came natural. The lift jerks as the ground makes contact, nearly sending him sprawling down to the floor of it just for him to look up in utter irritation, sending up a solid middle finger at the crew whether they could see it or not.
“Ain’t no wonder these things fall out of tha fuckin sky so much…” He grumbles, straightening himself and clambering off before they end up actually managing to kill him somehow.
Once off, the Zeppelin began to hoist the platform once more as it turned to head off towards its next stop. Mega’s red eyes watch it drift off for a moment, offering an overhead wave in case Ammaelin was on deck and looking down upon him.
Given time, Mega turns away from it, looking at his pandaren styled home. The smell of the Arboretum orchids wafting through the air hit his senses and caused him to smile and for a moment, peace was welcome until he began to pick up his feet, swearing they are encased in lead the closer to home he became.
Much like a scene from one of those cheesy romance books he kept hearing people go on about, he freezes at the door, hand up and ready to knock but nothing comes. No, instead he pats himself down and takes the key out of his shirt pocket and uses that instead. Quietly, creeping open the door slowly as if he expected to walk in and find his place full of cobwebs and everything cold and abandoned.
The sight he gets is quite the opposite. Everything was nearly just as he left it. Albeit, more golden now. Naturasu loved her gold and it was a miracle that everything they owned wasn’t gold or khorium at this point in some facet or another. The sight brings a small smile to his face, sucking him into the house where he quietly closes the door behind him, fingers tracing over chairs and couch arms before he lets his pack slide down into the floor where it was quickly abandoned.
Quietly, he walks through the house, almost scared to break the silence just to realize that that’s all there’d be
but a sudden clattering coming from the kitchen broke what he hadn’t dared. “Oh gold… what is she remodelling in there now?” It was a good question to ask! Not one that he had malice towards however, as the modifications they’d made thus far were phenomenal.
His feet take him into the doorway where Nat can be seen in her usual home attire of thigh-high socks and underwear along with a set of tools, some powered and some not, as she was working on some of their retractable steps that allowed the two of them to cook shoulder to shoulder despite their obvious size differences.
And it was this image that made him choke in silence and just stare at her. She was still here and all of his fears, irrational or not, just vanished and all he’s left being able to do is croak out a cough and throat clear.
Nat’s voice calls out in irritation as the work clearly wasn’t going as planned. “Just leave tha rollers and frames there on the floor Sugah, thanks.”
She must have thought he was someone from the Contingents Engineering or Supply Staff. Had this been any other time, Mega probably would have played into this mistake and taken up the chance to pretend to be said person and elicit some lewd scene, but, no, not today… Well, at least not right -now-.
“Sorry, I uhh… must have forgotten them back at tha office. I can go back and get them if ya like.” Mega’s voice quivered in a nervousness that refused to leave his bones that were joining with both excitement and happiness.
Naturasu on the other hand, froze entirely just to drop the wrench that was in her hand to the floor. Slowly, she wheeled about, perhaps not sure if she heard the voice correctly or if it was just her senses fucking with her. Whatever her reasoning, the moment her copper colored eyes hit Mega’s own crimson hues, time stood still for them both.
No words came, they didn’t need them. Naturasu hit her knees and before she could even get her arms outstretched entirely, Mega was across the room, pinning himself to her and locking his own behind her in an embrace so strong that Titan Steel couldn’t have broken it if it tried.
The two remained conjoined and just wept.
[ Thank you again for reading my entry to the @daily-writing-challenge ! This is Day One (09/19/2021) and today's words were #Reunion and #Afterlife. I had the choice of using one or both, but decided to run with only Reunion today just in case I decide to pull out some deathly stuff later in the month. ]
[ Edit Addition: I apologize if there's some formatting issues. I tried to implant a couple of images to help convey things but Tumblr just wasn't having it, so I had to remove them. I've tried to correct the errors I did find, but I may not have gotten them all. ]
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Mac and Cheese
Summary: Bucky takes the last box of frozen mac and cheese, takes your phone, and makes you fall in love with him. The audacity of that man.
Prompt: “This has been a very bad week and you just grabbed the last box of my favorite comfort food at the supermarket”
Pairing: bucky x reader
a/n: i wrote this and was fully done formatting it and everything, like, 6 months ago. i didn’t post it because it’s approx. 82% nonsense but i figured why not post it now when it’s still 82% nonsense but im struggling to finish everything else. so taal, long time vegan, writes a story about mac and cheese and, listen, idk what this fic is either. can i write a fic without adding sam to it? no.
Mac and cheese. That’s all you want. Disgusting, frozen, usually-quite-mushy-if-not-microwaved-correctly mac and fucking cheese.
The kind with the layer of cheese on top. The kind with that real elbow pasta, not rotini or penne or seashell pasta— real macaroni. The kind you try to only eat one serving size of before you eat everything in the package. The kind you always gravitate to when your eyes are stained red, swollen, and too proud to be anything other than dry.
You take the subway. You switch lines. You endure the smell of the F train during rush hour when you aren’t sure where your thigh ends and the thigh of the woman sitting beside you begins. All for that one Trader Joe’s, out of many, in Brooklyn the hipsters abandon before six because the coffee shop next door closes at five.
Your feet ache in your boots and you’re pretty sure a rock has somehow lodged itself between your toes, it’s starting to rain and you have no umbrella, you don’t think your throat has ever felt so parched.
But you tuck your phone into your back pocket and march into that store with the hideous overhead lighting that makes your skin look like it hasn’t seen a bottle of toner in days like you’re Hades, the box of mac and cheese is Persephone, and Trader Joe’s is Mount Olympus.
You aren’t planning on smiling at anyone in greeting. You aren’t planning on making eye contact with anyone. You aren’t even planning on waiting politely behind whoever is inevitably idly standing in front of the pasta section of the frozen aisle— you’re going to say, “Excuse me.” Like the badass, New Yorker, on-the-verge-of-tears bitch you are and you’re going to toss that mac and cheese into your basket like you’re Steph Curry at the NBA Finals.
Lines are long when you walk in, cashiers bored-looking and tired. The produce section is a jungle of stay at home fathers and people who make their own pressed juice, the salad display a mess of college students trying to eat healthy.
Your eyes accidentally meet those of a toddler who is slyly plucking a grape from a bag he had no intention of spending his allowance on and you smile.
You hold your basket like a designer handbag and dilly-dally only for a moment to pick up some yogurt for breakfast tomorrow.
And some inauthentic babka because there’s no way in hell you’re going to endure Zabar’s after this.
And a package of olive oil popcorn, a bottle of three dollar chardonnay, and string cheese.
But that’s it. Self-control.
You feel the chill of the frozen aisle before you step into it. You feel the magnetic pull of that box with only one step in its direction. You stop for just a second to grab the mini mango and cream pops.
You almost roll your eyes to yourself when you see that someone is indeed standing right in front of the frozen selection of pasta. He’s staring at two boxes— a red one in his gloved left hand and the one in his right hand green.
As you grow closer you notice behind his curtain of dark hair that his eyebrows are knit together and he’s frowning at a decision he must be forcing himself to make.
Sophie’s Choice, but involving mediocre excuses for Italian food and no Nazis— hopefully. Because who really knows these days?
He wears a forest green hoodie under a black leather jacket, black jeans tight around thick thighs. Boots, too. You think you might swoon.
And you wait behind him. You tap your foot, shift your weight, and chew on your bottom lip. You don’t say anything.
He looks over his shoulder when you curse under your breath and set the heavy basket at your feet. He’s apologetic— and handsome— by the looks of it, blue eyes slightly widened and lips downturned. “Shit,” he says as he takes a few steps to the right. “I’m sorry.”
You shrug. You kick your basket with the toe of your boot until it lightly smacks against the bottom of the freezer. “No problem. It’s a big decision.”
His eyes lift from the boxes and he smiles. “Biggest one I’ve gotten to make in a while.”
Setting your hands atop the cold metal railing, you stare down into the freezer. You see farfalle with roasted tomatoes, rigatoni with pesto, ricotta and spinach ravioli, roasted vegetable lasagna, cauliflower gnocchi, chicken parm, and… an empty space.
You tilt your head.
You lean away and crouch to read the description cards, looking for the bubble letters to tell you where on Earth your saving grace is. When you spot the card, you stand again. The indicated space is empty, your heart is empty, your will to live is—
A box of organic pesto tortellini is tossed back into the freezer and you look up. Your eyes might lose their prideful dryness at any moment, even in public next to that handsome stranger with the nice jacket and,
the box of mac and cheese.
You gasp audibly and leap backwards. You point at the box in his left hand.
With an expression of panic, he holds his hands— and the box— up in innocence. “It’s okay. I’m not—”
“What the fuck is that?” you shout to gain the attention of customers you don’t even perceive, waggling your finger at the box. Your wide-eyed stare, and bared teeth, and messy hair must be terrifying. You hope they are.
He looks down at his hand. An eyebrow lifts. And, confusedly, he asks, “The box?”
“Yes, the fucking box!”
“It’s mac and—” he meets your gaze again. You’re wearing your anger like armor. But you aren’t scared. Bucky thinks he might never have felt such relief at a woman’s anger. “It’s mac and cheese.”
You shake your head. Wildly. Your neck hurts. “It’s the last box of mac and cheese!”
He glances at the box, then back at you. He jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “They might have some in the back—”
You shake your head again. A hint of devastation cracks your voice as you say, “It’s Monday night. Trader Joe’s restocks Tuesday night. This is usually all they have left.”
“I—” He pauses. “Is this shit really that good—”
“No, it’s not but that’s not the point!” you’re shouting again. And crying. Oh, God, you’re crying. In public. “The point is my building is going co-op!”
He tilts his head. “Your building is—”
“And I have to buy my apartment if I want to keep it! And they don’t give raises at my job to women unless they’re willing to suck something I won’t say in front of that kid right there,” you nod toward a little girl in a pink raincoat with her pin straight black hair in pigtails who stares at you in bewilderment. You sniffle. “So I quit. And I’m proud of myself for it. Because I have integrity, and I have self-respect, and I have no gag reflex, so the rejection should kill my boss dead.”
He cracks a small smile when you let out a short, watery, pathetic laugh. Easily, he holds the box out to you. “I hope your boss is dead, too.”
You laugh again and don’t hesitate before taking the box. You wipe your cheeks with your sleeve. “Thank you. You’re nice.”
“Not a popular opinion, but one I’ll certainly take.” He’s smiling and it’s warm. “Sorry— about all that.”
“You’re apologizing to me? I just screamed at you in the Trader Joe’s freezer aisle over mac and cheese.”
He shakes his head and picks up his own basket when you grab yours. “Your building’s going co-op and your boss deserves to burn in hell. You should get all the mac and cheese you want.”
You reach into the freezer for that green box of tortellini he’d thrown in, tossing it into his basket with a smile. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “Still. I’m sorry for yelling and I hope the tortellini doesn’t suck too bad.”
“It’s frozen pasta. My expectations are low.”
You hum a laugh and walk past him to the crowded lines at the registers. “As they should be.”
It’s when you’re lost in the sea of customers and Bucky is deciding between frozen palak paneer and frozen lamb vindaloo with basmati rice that he feels a tug at the hem of his jacket.
He looks away from the green and orange boxes, lowering his gaze to meet curious almond-shaped eyes beneath blunt black bangs. He smiles and she returns it. “Yes?”
She reveals her right hand, which she had hidden behind her pink raincoat, and holds a phone up to Bucky as far as her arm will let her.
“Is that your phone?”
She shakes her head and giggles. Loud, happy, and squeaky. “Yelling lady dropped her phone.”
Bucky’s eyebrows knit together until a woman, much closer to his height, steps behind the little girl. She takes the phone the girl holds out and offers it to Bucky when he straightens his posture. Her smile looks like the little girl’s. “We figured you would have a good chance at getting it back to her.”
He takes the phone and nods his thanks. Pressing the power button reveals a picture of you and a dog, a large, fluffy dog with its pink tongue hanging low. You’re smiling brightly and, oddly, it seems like the dog is, too.
—
“So you just took her phone? Didn’t even ask an employee to keep it there in case she came back for it?”
Bucky, watching the tray of pasta rotate in the microwave, scowls. “I would’ve if I’d known that was an option. And stop eating my fuckin’ chips.”
Sam tosses back another handful of kettle-cooked barbecue potato chips in defiance so the obnoxious crunching echoes through the kitchen. He smiles sarcastically when Bucky snatches the bag and rolls it up. Half is already gone. “You come up with how you’re gonna get it back to her?”
“Thinkin’ about asking Pepper to post a picture of it like it’s a missing child to that ‘Tweeter’ nonsense,” Bucky replies dryly. He’s glaring at Sam as he leans his hip against the counter. “You and I both know I haven’t come up with shit.”
Sam snorts and is smiling in amusement, deep brown eyes alight. Bucky hates the sight. “Tweeter. You’re so fuckin’ old.”
It’s been hours since Bucky took the phone from who he learned is little Vivienne and her mother, and he is no closer to getting it back to you.
He’d tried looking for you at the store but there were too many people for a Trader Joe’s that Yelp claimed was the least busy in New York for that to yield results. So he returned to the Tower. He thought about asking Tony to look into the doohickey but figured an invasion of privacy should be the last resort.
He pulls the tray from the microwave with nimble vibranium fingers and sniffs the pasta before setting it down on the counter. He removes a bowl from one of the cabinets and dumps the steaming pasta in it, a sprinkle of freshly grated parmesan from a tub he’d bought— also at Trader Joe’s— a finishing touch.
“She’s cute,” Sam says when the screen lights up with an incoming text notification.
Bucky spins his fork between his fingers as he walks around the counter to sit on the barstool beside Sam’s. He glances at the phone as well. “Very cute,” he agrees. “She had a shitty day. Something about her apartment goin’ co-op. Whatever the hell that means.”
Sam frowns. “Means she’s gotta buy the place. And with New York real estate prices right now,” he shakes his head with a sigh. “She better have a well-paying job.”
“Quit that today, too.” Bucky takes a bite of the pasta and hisses as it burns his tongue. “Boss is a creep that asked for some action in exchange for a raise.”
“Jesus. Poor girl.”
The tortellini isn’t great. It’s a little bland, a bit too dry, and there isn’t enough filling— but it’s better than Bucky had expected. He takes another bite. “Yeah. And I took the last box of mac and cheese. Which is what she went to the store for.”
“I’m surprised your head wasn’t chopped off.”
Bucky smiles. “She yelled— a lot. Was crying, too, ‘til she said something and made herself laugh.”
Sam then begins teasing Bucky juvenilely for having a crush until both men are laughing and shoving one another to see who falls off their stool first, Sam only relenting when Bucky hands the potato chips to him again as a peace offering.
The bowl is in the sink and the chips are down to just crumbs when a loud ringtone— an instrumental version of an R&B song Bucky recognizes from Sam’s many plays of the original— shocks the two of them.
It’s from an unknown number and Bucky is unsure if he should pick up until Sam swipes answer and puts the call on speakerphone. “Hello?”
A sigh. Bucky doesn’t know if it’s one of relief or frustration. “I’m hoping whoever this is found my phone and didn’t steal it.”
Sam shoves Bucky’s shoulder with a toothy grin and Bucky rolls his eyes. “The little girl you almost traumatized in the freezer aisle found it and gave it to me.”
Another sigh— the relief in this one is obvious— and you’re laughing. “It’s you— tortellini dude. Must’ve fallen when I crouched down.”
“Seems like it, yeah.”
“So are you gonna ask for my address or do I have to schlep over to Avengers Tower?”
Bucky and Sam exchange a look. “Avengers Tower?”
“You weren’t exactly in disguise— I realized who you are the minute I left the store. Would’ve recognized you right away but I was in my own head and you aren’t my favorite Avenger.”
Bucky smiles. “Yeah? And who is?”
“Falcon.”
Immediately, the phone is taken from Bucky’s hand. “Hi, baby, you’ve got Falcon.”
A gasp, a pause, then you laugh. Audibly stunned laughter. “You guys actually hang out with each other? That’s cute.”
Before Sam can reply, Bucky flicks his forehead— in reply to which Sam elbows Bucky’s ribs— and takes the phone back. “I can bring your phone to you whenever you’re free.”
“Awesome. I’m unemployed now so any time tomorrow is fine.”
You tell him your address before hanging up and he wishes you a good night. Your laughter is the last thing he hears before three beeps signify the end of the call.
—
Bucky takes the subway. He switches lines to the F train. He tries not to mind the overpowering smell of stale B.O. and deli meat leftover from rush hour, the skittering steps of a rat across the floor in the adjacent empty car. He ignores those who stare at him intensely enough to burn the fabric right off his skin. All for that one apartment in SoHo.
He thinks the gash below his ribs might still be leaking as the warm, moist subway station air blows past him. He can feel that cluster of bruises above his knee— the one from the pipe the hostile operative had ripped off the rickety walls of a nearly destroyed Hydra base— every time he takes a step, more so as he climbs the stairs.
He knows he must be quite a sight with combat boots and tac pants worn and dusty, a simple bomber jacket thrown over a ripped, sliced, stained compression tank. His mind is blank, his eyes shadowy, the ghost of something terrible lurking behind blue and grey.
Posture stiff and muscles cold, steps crisp despite the ache, he follows the familiar path and manages to form the thought of turning around. Not bringing this all to a threshold— or, more accurately, a windowsill— he’s only crossed three or four times. He’s too weak, though.
It takes one rap of his knuckles against the third-story window for a lamp to flicker on, gauzy drapes pushed aside. You smile as he lifts the window open, stepping aside as he enters the apartment with careful grace. He feels less guilty when he sees that your bed is still made and your hair isn’t the tangled mess it usually is when he bursts in at a late hour.
“I have a door.”
“Okay, show-off.”
It’s when he steps into the light of the standing lamp in the room’s corner that your quiet laughter gives way to a soft gasp.
He doesn’t like the widening of your eyes or the way you gently lift the right side of his jacket, fingers light against the torn fabric. But you laugh again, and it shakes in nervousness. “You know I’m not a doctor, right? Or a nurse? Or even a pharmacist with high self-efficacy?”
He nods and, despite himself, there’s a smile pulling at a corner of his lips. His eyes brighten a little. “It’ll heal itself.”
“Confidence. I like that in a burglar.”
Before he can take a step further into your bedroom, you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and point at his feet. “Boots.”
He kicks them off with a sigh and a groan when the shifting of his knee sends a tremor up his leg. His jacket is tossed aside as well, and he catches the black t-shirt you throw to him. You’d washed it, folded it, and put it in your closet.
Just a little more brightness. “You owe me mac and cheese.”
“Oh, I owe you mac and cheese? We’re really holding onto shit from four months ago?”
He nods again and pulls his tank off, withholding a wince.
Eyebrow raised, you cross your arms over your chest. You’re giving him a narrow look but, because you’re clearly struggling against a smile, it’s one of his favorites of the expressions you’ve ever offered him.
You give him a towel next— pastel blue. “Shower and then we’ll see about me owing you something.”
He wants to say thank you, do more than smile.
But he knows if he so much as opens his mouth while you’re looking at him the way you are, he’ll tell you he’s fallen in love with you over the last four months, that maybe he’s been in love since you screamed at him in the freezer section of Trade Joe’s.
He’ll go to say thank you, but the words of a Byron poem he’d learned to impress a girl in his English class more than eighty years ago will come pouring out or he’ll simply kiss you like he wishes he could on the nights he can’t sleep or during the missions he can just barely endure.
He’ll go to say thank you, and then tell you with no clarity whatsoever that you’re what he finds comfort in when he’s had a hard day. That the disgusting, mushy, nothing-compared-to-fresh mac and cheese is just an excuse.
But he just smiles. And nods. And takes a shower.
His hair is still wet as he stands across from you at the kitchen counter. There’s a bowl of steaming pasta between you, a spoon in his hand and a fork in yours. “You’re dripping onto the counter.”
With a cocking of his eyebrow, he shakes his head and you sputter a laugh, shoving his shoulder. “Bucky!”
He laughs then, fully and happily, as he reaches over to wipe the drops from your cheeks and forehead. You only smile back, the gleaming of your eyes making him feel warm all over.
“This shit’s terrible, by the way,” he says after a minute of staring.
You shrug a shoulder. “Told you.”
“And you fought me for it. Publicly.”
You shrug again and laugh. You lean your elbows atop the counter to match his relaxed posture, dragging a noodle through a particularly large puddle of melted cheese.
Looking up, your nose nearly bumps Bucky’s and you hope he doesn’t hear your breath stall. You try to smile. “Makes me feel better when I need to fill that hole in my heart.”
“With cholesterol?” he jokes.
“Yes. It’s excellent. It’s like spackle.” As he laughs and you roll your eyes, you push off the counter to stand straight. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“Yeah?”
You hum. “I’m seeing an apartment I want tomorrow and need the rent lowered. And you’re the Winter Soldier.”
He considers that for a moment and you burst into laughter just as his eyes narrow into a fond glare. “You want me to scare them into lowering the rent?”
“Don’t think of it as you scaring them,” you begin, rounding the counter to stand next to him, hip leant against the marble, “think of it as you being an amazing friend and helping me.” A moment later you add, “By scaring them.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. He glances at the bowl to avoid the risk of staring at you for too long. “Fine.”
You grin. “You really take no convincing.”
A snort and he meets your gaze. “Only when it comes to you. I’m afraid you’ll start crying again.”
“So I could ask you for anything and you’d probably say yes?”
He shrugs a bit, then nods. Who is he kidding? You could ask for his right arm and he’d give it to you.
“Okay. Go on a date with me then.”
There’s a pause— in the conversation, in his chest. “A what?”
“A date. It’s like dinner, or coffee, or a movie, or something.” You grin when he takes half a step in your direction and his hands grip onto the counter at either side of you. “It’s this thing people do when they like each other.”
Something much more than like is in the sparkling of your eyes and the tilt of your head. Something that might match exactly what’s in his eyes whenever he’s around you. His insides burn at the thought.
“I know what a date is.”
“They had those back in your day?”
He nods and leans forward. “Not from the Stone Ages.”
Your lips brush lightly against his, hand set on his chest to feel the rapid beating beneath. You smile and he thinks he might melt. “Could’ve fooled me with that hair.”
Laughing, he presses his lips to yours a little harder.
—
Apartment littered with unpacked boxes, misplaced books, and askew furniture, you sit on top of the counter where Bucky works. He’s twirling a knife through his metal fingers, arranging sprigs of chives on the cutting board with the flesh ones.
He smiles when he catches you staring at the pan cooling on the stove. “S’not done yet.”
You sigh. Loudly, heavily. “You took it out of the oven. That means it’s done.”
“It needs to cool for a few minutes or you’ll burn off your taste buds. You want to burn off your taste buds?”
“You want to burn off your taste buds?” you repeat in a high-pitched, taunting voice. You’re scowling and, somehow, look to be on the verge of snatching the knife from him to stab it through his chest. “Maybe I do.”
Less than a minute later, you groan and add, “I don’t care how good you are in bed. I’m about ten seconds from dumping you.”
Swiftly, he chops the chives and turns around to sprinkle a bit into the baking dish. “You know, most people would say thank you.”
“Most people don’t have to wait an hour while their boyfriend attempts to make mac and cheese when there’s a perfectly good box in the freezer that would take four minutes.”
“It’s worth it.”
In all honesty, he doesn’t know if it’s worth it.
He’d asked Sam for a recipe and did his best to follow it despite the autocorrect which had changed “gruyere” to “grape year.” But he trusts it since Sam generally knows what he’s doing in the kitchen. Unlike Steve who had continuously attempted to chime in with useless suggestions such as, “Maybe don’t add the paprika.”
“Just trust me,” he urges as if replying to the growling of your stomach which has interrupted his search for the plates he could’ve sworn he’d unpacked. He’s crouched and searching the lower cabinets as he adds, “You’ll fall in love with me after you try it.”
“Who says I haven’t already?”
He stops searching.
He peeks his head above the edge of the counter and, his eyes wide, he sees you pulling two plates from a box placed on the small nook table. Your smile is small and a bit sheepish— the latter something he’d never seen from you.
“You never took them out,” you tell him, the clatter of ceramic on the wooden surface loud when you set the plates down. As you approach and he stands to his full height, you sigh and roll your eyes at the look he gives you. “Yes, I love you. It can’t be that shocking.”
“It isn’t.”
“Someone should tell your face that.”
Chuckling over the heavy thumps in his chest, he leans forward to kiss you but pauses just to say, “I love you, too, by the way.”
When an empty dish sits between the two of you, Bucky’s stomach warm and full of over three-quarters of it, you stand from the table and walk to the freezer.
Shooting a smile over your shoulder, you grab the familiar red box and toss it into the stainless steel trash can. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “I’m never eating that shit again.”
#this reader is a human disaster#dkjfgdkjgj#bucky#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff
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SnapCube’s Until Dawn Real-Time Fandub Sentence Starters (Part 1)
"I didn't bring my phone. It was in my other pants!"
"This is a really long high five."
"...I won't tell anyone about this."
"Ya see, that's a joke thinger."
"Can you see me? Don't answer that."
"Who talks to screens? Maybe you can."
"We're here in a strange time at a strange place."
"Hopefully you enjoyed whatever the hell THIS video was."
"When those girls died? That was funny."
"My phone still has battery? Holy shit, I gotta keep that warm."
"I'm trying to get like 100% on Animal Crossing."
"Check it out, I have this gun. It's really really cool."
"Are you McCree from Overwatch, hit video game?"
"Make sure you don't shoot any guys with that."
"Never mind, I do have the key. I just found it in my pocket."
"We're all just really good beans at the end of the day."
"Why did you hit me? That hurt so much!"
"Sorry, I've been in jail a while."
"My arm really hurts. Do you have any first aid?"
"I just got off the big train in the sky."
"This is my Smash invitation and frankly, I deserve it."
"It was gonna be a surprise for your birthday, motherfucker!"
"Jesus, everyone is so rude. What is this, Rude Mountain?"
"This mountain fucking sucks."
"I'm here to be rude to people."
"I think this is sus. He's definitely the impostor."
"As a gamer, I know all about Among Us."
"Is this...Tamriel?"
"Well, that's a cliff."
"No, you got arms!"
"I don't speak corn."
"Grab my stinky hand!"
"I will live on in the vibes!"
"No, that's too fast! Oh, god!"
"2x4? You're not even a 1x1."
"You look so stupid right now."
"Hehe, I'm under the bed now!"
"It was for a prank video. Come on!"
"It's fine, honestly. She has a blanket."
"Women never listen to me when I talk..."
"Everything's a big deal when you make it."
"Oh my god she has pants! What the fuck?!"
"No one told me I was wearing pants today!"
"It's pretty cold because it's DEAD of winter!"
"Hey, tree! Look at me, I'm looming right now!"
"Not a blanket, but maybe I can keep you warm."
"This fuckin' candle doesn't keep me warm at all.”
"At least you're not calling it 'arm pants' this time."
"Oh, wow! SHE'S looming! Oh, she can teach me!"
"I don't want to play any of your Among Us games."
"I have this weird feeling someone's looming around here."
"Answer a question for me: how are you feeling today? YEAH!"
"Well now, wise guy. Let's see who among us really is the funniest."
"Helloooo there! I am Doctor Rabbit. The world's only rabbit rabbit."
"Whoa, that guy was straight up looming! I wish I could loom like that.”
"Was that that Anus Unnus guy?"
"Hey, babe, you wanna go and record a blog with me?"
"So are my pranks as good as Markiplier?"
"Wait, when did they get the hugging perk?!"
"See, that's what I think of your problems, is that they're just some sort of joke."
"Got in real trouble with the locals, I did. They don't let me back there."
"Maybe you're just trying to be woke or something."
"Your insurance isn't covering these sessions, by the way."
"We can send, like, aura to each other. You know like, uh, vibes."
"I don't guess, I know. I never guess, I know everything. I do the math."
"Two plus two equals you're my friend. Just kidding, it's four."
"I just hurt all of my bones."
"High five? No, you're too far away. My bad."
"Did you solve my wolverine puzzle?"
"Did you know doors hurt?"
"Everyone has a raccoon!"
"Why don't you keep it to yourself, tough guy?"
"Save the fight until I have the camera ready, okay?"
"That's not a view, that's a snow."
"I think you're in the corridor of the monkey."
"If you throw that me, I'm gonna fuckin' flip my goddamn lid."
"You want some snow, bitch?!"
"Lady? Girl? ...I should really learn her name."
"Water's looking a little green, that's just the way I like it."
"Did the ghosts take my friends again?"
"I'm actually half ghost."
"Is that a lightsaber? Like from Star Trek?"
"I'm gonna level with you, I hate being in the same room as you."
"BOOOOOOOOOOOK!"
"You like the new office? I fuckin' don't."
"You didn't read through the contract, did you kiddo?"
"I can get fucked? Finally!"
"Even the ghost agrees."
"I should have fucking known. This ghost is such a libro."
"That's great and all, but I'm gonna look like a jackass!"
"This is what happens when you pull mean pranks. God punishes an elk."
"THAT was a HEALING spell?! Oh god!"
"Door key? You're pretty dorky!"
"I can imagine a lot of dipshits, in fact."
"Get un-naked! Get un-naked! Get un-naked! Get un-naked!"
"I'm casting a hex on you now. Have fun getting hexed, idiot."
"See? The Kinect causes psychic powers."
"I can't believe Blue's freakin' clue is on here."
"Ugh...I freaking hate doors."
"Blue save me..."
"Telling them the vibes made you do it won't hold up in a court of law."
"Oh, would you look at the time. It's time for me to rip you a new one again!"
"I cannot wait, but I suppose I'll have to."
"The hex worked great. Now let's see if I can go shoot what remains of her."
"I love running through the forest like a fucking weirdo."
"You look like an idiot on the ground there."
"If I have anything to say about it, you won't make it back."
"I wanna see you, whatever you are, you funny-looking fellow."
"Why do I have so much trouble with doors?"
"Hey, funny voice! Fuck off, please!"
"It's a saw trap, you dumb piece of shit!"
"Seems mysterious, but I won't shoot him this time. Gotta weaken him with the hex."
"You're gonna get fucked if you can't say goodbye to a ghost. Trust me on that one."
"Hey, uh, do you wanna stop having trouble with doors, now'd be a phantasmical time!"
"Unless you want to work with me here, well...we're gonna be stuck here until dawn."
"Not like you've ever done anything on purpose in your entire life, you fucking hack."
"What, not even a goddamn laugh? Oh, it's gonna be a rough fuckin' couple weeks."
"I can't believe I made it up to Rude Mountain only to be discovered by rude people."
"I've got all my gamerscore on my phone, so I'm hoping that nobody really touched it.”
"That's pretty cringe of you, buddy. I'm gonna put you in my Cringe Tuesday compilation."
"If I wanted to talk about beans, I'd hang around with the fuckin' Among Us crew down there."
"You know what? I have two arms, so I guess I CAN carry both of them at the same time."
"I just got my lips unstuck. Aw, geez. I've been trying to talk to you guys this whole time."
"I left some beans in my backpack. They might be a few years old, but they don't really expire."
"I should've known that coming to Rude Mountain would have made you worse as a person."
"I've just been playing a lot of Among Us recently and I've just been trying to really get good at lying.
"Oh, so NOW you're a funny guy, huh? You think you got your own jokes?! Ya think this is stand up?!"
"I have blankets in the back, but I'm gonna go to the front just to see if I can spice things up a little."
"I'm here to help you, and whaddya do? You spit in my goddamn face! ...Metaphorically, of course.”
"What do you take me for, some kind of clown?! Some kind of Boo Boo the Fool that ain't done this rodeo before?!"
"Here at therapy we're here to answer the one big burning question everyone's got: what the FUCK is wrong with you?"
"I noticed you don't have much of a sense of humor. That might explain all the shit you've gotten into recently, wouldn't it?"
"Well with my ten step plan I'll be happy to go plumb the depths of your sad, scared little mind and see what makes you...tick, as it were."
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