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celtic-crossbow · 5 months

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Blood Ties Chapter 12

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, poorly written smut, mention of scars, allusions to child abuse

A/N: I feel like I say this about every chapter but I really struggled with this one. I even scrapped 3,800 words because I hated it so much. It still ended up being a long one but it feels like a lot of time skipping and nonsense. The beginning is nice though. ;) I hope it’s at least somewhat enjoyable. Thank you, my dears.💙

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Your body was on fire; electric jolts sparking with pleasure each place where his skin was touching yours. It was never like this before. It was purely physical, without attachment. Now it felt like he had integrated himself into your very soul. You wanted him deeper than his cock dragging over your inner walls; you wanted him beneath your very skin.

Each thrust was slow but deep, his back arching when he rolled his hips into you. His lips and hands felt like they were everywhere all at once. He wasn’t just fucking you. He was making love to you. Deliberate, delicate, yet no less exhilarating.

Your hips raised of their own volition to meet his. You were desperate to snap that inner tension; the tightly coiled heat low in your belly. Daryl had other plans. He was drawing this out. He was savoring you.

“Easy. I gotcha.” He purred against your ear just before his lips attached to the skin above where your pulse thrummed. “S’gonna feel real good. Hang on for me.” He ventured lower to draw a nipple into his mouth, the swirling of his tongue pulling a moan from you, your hands moving from his bare back to his hair and then returning. You urged him back to your mouth, whining against his smiling lips.

“Please.” You weren’t sure what you were pleading for; there was so much sensation that you couldn’t even pinpoint where you needed him most. “Please, please, please.” He chuckled and made a slow journey with his fingertips, whispering down your torso to disappear between your bodies. A calloused thumb pressed against your clit and you nearly wailed.

“That’s it. Let go for me.” His thrusts never wavered, leaving you to dimly wonder if this would be the first of many orgasms he would give you before he was chasing his own high. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

You could feel your cunt clamp around him and begin to pull him impossibly deeper, preparing for your orgasm to wash over you. You were right on the edge, teetering. His lips met yours and your hips angled upward, the knot ready to burst. Just as you felt the first wave of ecstasy—

You opened your eyes to the dim light of a small lamp on the bedside table. You still felt tired when somewhere in your mind, you could recall that something happened and you should feel better. In your sleepy haze, you couldn’t seem to summon the memories. Only the residual feel of Daryl’s body pressed against yours and the pleasure he was so eagerly offering you.

“That must’ve been some dream.”

You lifted your head to find Carol sitting in a chair close to the bedside, a small smile on her face and her hands folded on her lap.

“Carol.” Your lips curved upward ever so slightly.

“So dehydrated but still able to drool so I’d say we’re making progress.” She chuckled while you dragged the back of your hand across your mouth with a curl of your lip.

“The baby okay?” You scratched at your scalp, still trying to piece together what happened that ended with you in bed and hooked up to fluids.

“Mhm. Hershel says the heartbeat is strong.” She smiled, the sadness behind her eyes more transparent than she probably realized.

��What happened?” You inquired, slowly pushing yourself up to sit against the headboard without disturbing the IV tubing. Just as her mouth opened, the memories of your rescue mission came flooding back in a breathtaking onslaught. “Oh god, Daryl!” You grabbed the blanket and threw it back, aiming to get to your feet, only halting by a gentle touch to your ankle.

“He’s in the next room. He’s gonna be fine.”

When the sudden rush evaporated, you sank back against the pillows. You had all three made it.

“He was in shock by the time you made it back. Hershel gave him some IV fluids and is going to start some antibiotics. He’s all patched up. He’ll be back to his cheery self in no time.”

You chuckled. “Just a ball of sunshine, that one.” Your smile fell away, remembering just how horrible he had looked the last time you saw him; dragging his feet along behind you. Blood dampened his shirt, his pants. He was pale as milk, dark circles under his eyes. You held on to a fragile hope that he—if nothing else—looked better after stitches and fluids. “Is he awake?”

“He was stirring a little while ago.” You nodded, picking at your left thumbnail. “I’m gonna get you some water. Maybe we can take out that IV now that you’re awake.” The other woman stood gracefully, donning her usual smile except it wasn’t quite reaching her eyes. Your gaze followed her out the door, your heart aching for her. She was so intent on caring for you and your baby while her own child was still missing. It was a bleak reminder of how unfair life truly was.

You inwardly sighed, your stomach beginning to feel ill at ease. How did you end up in this position? All of it. The dead rising to eat the living. Losing everyone you held dear. Making a baby with a complete stranger. And now so desperate to keep that man in your life that it frightened you. Just—how?

Everything had been so normal before. You had your routine with your father waiting at home for you everyday. You’d sit with him over a dinner that you prepared, listening to his lame jokes and laughing even harder when they weren’t funny. Your uncles and aunt would come over once every two weeks for a big supper. You’d usually save the larger kill for those occasions.

God, you missed them.

But they weren’t here now.

Daryl was. You’d be damned if you’d lose someone else.

A soft knock on the door signaled Carol’s return. She had a tray of food. Eggs, apparently. The last time, when Daryl had brought them, you had been famished and paid no mind to the smell. It was different this time, and your stomach was not pleased.

“The eggs.” You gagged, sitting up and covering your mouth and nose. Carol’s eyes widened and she swiftly put the tray outside the door and grabbed up the water glass before she shut the smell out.

“I’m sorry.” She said quietly. “I brought the pills that Maggie and Glenn were able to get. They found a few bottles so you should be set for now.” She handed you the medication and the water. Your stomach churned angrily. “I’ll see about getting Beth to make you another smoothie.”

“Thank you.” It was made clear by the expression on her face that she was worried. “I’ll be okay.” The pill had a grainy texture and left a horrible taste. You washed it down with a sip of water, but the unpleasant assault on your tastebuds continued. It would be worth it if it meant everything would stop trying to crawl out of your throat.

“I’ll get Hershel to see about that IV. Then maybe you’d like to go see Daryl?”

You gave her a nod and a tight-lipped smile, watching her leave to fetch the vet. Ugh. You knew he would lecture you, but you couldn’t let it sway your desire to protect your little family. That’s exactly what it was: a family. Your relationship with Daryl didn’t alter the fact that you would share a child. Co-parent. Protect one another.

A rapid knock on the door before it opened revealed the vet. “Carol tells me you’re feeling okay. Maybe we can remove your IV if you can ensure you’ll continue to take in as much water as you can.”

“I can do that.”

He studied you for a moment, as if searching for a hint that you may not follow through. Apparently satisfied that you’d heed his instructions, he rounded the bed and began working on removing the catheter from your arm. The grim expression was sign enough that you were about to be scolded. “Y/N, you understand the risks involved when you go out there.” And so it began. “This, I can’t stop you from doing but you should consider the safety of your child if nothing else.”

“No one else was going to try and find him. It was something I had to do.” You lowered your head, feeling not unlike a child who was in trouble for drawing on the walls and knowing better.

There was nothing left to say. He continued to stare for a moment after instructing you to bend your arm and hold pressure on the square of gauze he’d placed there. Perhaps, he was attempting to understand. Maybe he was judging your decision. Maybe he was even praying for you. It didn’t matter. In the end, he gave a curt nod and turned to leave the room.

As soon as the door closed, you tossed the gauze onto the bedside table, carefully lowering your feet to the floor. The mattress acted as support while you ensured dizziness wouldn’t bombard you. Your vision stayed clear, even if your stomach was still protesting. Hopefully it would settle soon enough.

You knew Daryl would likely be across the hall. There was an anxiety at the thought of seeing him; one you couldn’t validate. You knew you wanted to go, to see with your own eyes that he was alive and healing. You chose to ignore the feeling and opened the door, pausing on the threshold when you heard his voice.

“I didn’t do anythin’ Rick or Shane wouldn’t done.”

“I know.” You could see Carol step into the doorway of the adjacent room. You stepped back behind the frame of your own, feeling like an intruder. “You’re every bit as good as them. Every bit.” The door closed, her soft steps moving further away, most likely in route to get your smoothie.

You could absolutely throttle the redneck after hearing him downplay what he had been nearly killing himself to achieve. He had worked just as hard as anyone else in the search for Sophia. If he wouldn’t acknowledge the effort he’d put in, he was likely giving himself hell over being placed on the sidelines after his injury. There was no way Hershel was going to clear him to go back out there anytime soon.

Your bare feet barely made a sound when you crossed the space between rooms, leaning into the door with one hand on the knob while the other quietly knocked.

“Jesus, can’t a guy get some sleep ‘round here. What is it now?”

Scrunching your nose in response to his grumpy attitude, you opened the door and peered inside. He most likely wasn’t expecting you. His back was to you, the sheet up to the curve of his hips, giving you a glimpse of the deep, dark puckered lines of several scars. His skin was still pale. They likely didn’t appear so harsh against his normally tan complexion. Still…

“Hey, dumbass. How’re you feeling?” The way he flinched and clumsily gripped the thin cover to drag it up higher made your chest tighten. The reason he didn’t want to remove his shirt when you fucked; he didn’t want you see.

“Callin’ me a dumbass when you was the one came runnin’ after me all half cocked.” He mumbled, not turning to look at you. Deflecting. You decided to let it go. He was so ashamed of that part of himself. He needed to keep that secret. It wasn’t yours to know. Maybe one day.

“I could make so many jokes out of what you just said and most would be at your expense.”

“Y’can go now, funny girl.”

You crawled up onto the mattress and maneuvered your way over to where he lay, resting your chin on the curve of his shoulder while carefully avoiding adding any pressure against his wounded side.

“Don’t be such a sourpuss. You know you’re glad to see me.”

Daryl scoffed, shrugging his shoulder to jostle your head. “Pain in my ass.” You peered at his outstretched right arm, the taped tubing leading up to a bag of clear fluids, half empty. At least his skin was feeling warmer. “Y’okay?”

“I’m sure they already told you that I’m fine.” You answered softly. You resisted the urge to brush your fingers over the bandage on his head.

“Don’t matter. Better to hear it outta ya own mouth.”

You smiled. “I’m fine, Daryl. A little nauseous but Maggie and Glenn found the medicine.”

He grunted, a moment passing before he asked “baby okay?” His voice had lowered, muscles tensing beneath your chin, as if he were bracing himself for your answer.

“Mhm. Hershel checked and said the heartbeat was strong.” He relaxed almost immediately. You were once again reminded of his desire to not be touched. You had seen him flinch away from Rick and Carol. After a rare glimpse at his bare back, the fear made sense. But he saw you differently. He had chosen to accept you as safe for whatever reason. It had to be more than your willingness to spread your legs for him once upon a time not that long ago.

“That’s good.” He muttered. He sounded a little groggy.

“He give you something for the pain?” You tilted your head on his arm, your cheek lightly pressing against the muscle there.

“Mhm. Didn’t want it. Shoulda saved it.”

“Take the meds, you stubborn ass.” You nearly shoved at him, albeit playfully. It still would have caused him discomfort. His movements were stiff, the muscles rippling under your face as his hand came up to present a clear message in the form of one finger. “You’re so mature, Dixon.” You teased. “I’m so honored to be the birth giver of your spawn.” There was instant regret when you felt him flinch, tense up, and then deflate.

“M’sorry.” His voice was raspy. Tired. You didn’t hesitate to caress the white bandage over his temple this time.

“Don’t be.” You soothed, watching him battle to stay awake. “I’m not.” You glanced at the sheet covering his back, shielding his shame from you. You could see the very top of what appeared to be the aftermath of a burn. Daryl had definitely had the opposite of your childhood. Where you had love and tenderness and support, it was suggested Daryl had pain and cruelty and isolation. Somehow, you knew that he would want better for his own child.

“I ain’t gonna be—like our daddy. My kid—ain’t gonna be like us.”

You brought your hand up to trace shapes onto his forearm, smiling as goosebumps rose from the gentle caress. “Daryl?”

You thought he might already be asleep, but then he drew in a breath and answered with a drawn out “hmm?”

“I really am honored.”

He went so still that he appeared to hold his breath, before he made a dismissive noise and shrugged you off of him. “Tryin’a sleep, woman.”

“Okay.” You had hit a nerve. It wasn’t like you didn’t consider the possibility he’d react negatively. “I’ll be across the hall.” You gracelessly scooted across the mattress, just having thrown your legs over the edge when there was a grip on your wrist, firm but gentle. You looked over your shoulder to find him awkwardly balanced on his right elbow while keeping the arm as straight as possible for the IV. He wasn’t looking at you but it had to hurt for him to have twisted into how he was to reach for you.

The breath he took shuddered. “Stay.”

“Alright.” Your free hand came to rest on the one that held your wrist, intending to provide comfort for a request he was obviously uncomfortable to make, but he pulled back his arm and settled against the pillow. Withholding your sigh, you settled behind him on your side, facing him but not touching.

It wasn’t difficult for sleep to find you in the dimly lit room with Daryl’s deep, even breathing acting as your gentle lullaby.

It was frightening how so many things could change so quickly. Hell, an entire world could end in a matter of days.

You were up and about the day after you awoke with the IV in your arm. Hershel had instructed you to take it easy and, for once in your life, you had listened. You helped with cooking and hanging laundry. Anything that allowed you to sit often for water breaks and did not require you to lift.

Daryl was also out of the house that following day. Not because Hershel had allowed it. But because he felt anxious, cooped up. He was stealthy, as per usual, and back in his tent with a book before anyone had noticed he was missing. To his credit, he did move slower and didn’t engage in anything strenuous. Well, for a few days anyway.

Lori’s pregnancy had been a shocker to everyone. It was laughable to you how suddenly, you weren’t such a burden in the eyes of the second officer. It was also very revealing. You had suspected something all along, but watching him with Rick’s wife when he thought all heads were turned had just confirmed your suspicions.

That same man was growing more and more volatile with each passing day. He was constantly challenging Rick, the sort of leader of your little group, and then going off on his own to do god knows what. Daryl had butted heads with him a few times over a variety of things. The most recent was just before Lori’s pregnancy was revealed. Shane made an off-handed comment—after you had once again stood your ground against him—about breeding with a redneck having an affect on your mentality. The archer had only conceded when you had stepped in front of him.

Tensions only rose when Glenn had revealed that Hershel had been keeping walkers in the barn. The issue was debated and discussed repeatedly with no clear resolution. Shane had come stomping over to the porch where everyone was congregated, handing out guns and riling everyone up. He was determined to clear the barn. You stood with Lori, even as Daryl went in with Shane, guns blazing. The action was one that would change everything for everyone forever.

When the lanky little girl stumbled out of the darkness beyond the barn doors, no one moved. No one made a sound. Except Carol. She had tried to run to Sophia, would have gladly allowed her daughter to rip into her throat at that moment if it meant she would get to hold her. Your fingers only brushed the woman’s arm as you attempted to stop her with a watery call of her name. Luckily, Daryl was successful. He held her until the last moment and even after the walker had fallen by Rick’s gun.

The drama didn’t end there.

A young man had been kept in the barn after Rick, Glenn, and Hershel had brought him back with an injury that required surgery. Randall ended up knowing of the Greene farm and thus, became a threat. Rather, the group that had left him was a threat, but—guilty by association and all that. Daryl had participated in the torture of the kid for information. That led to the collapse of already unsteady ground between the two of you. Dale had died still believing that the group was above taking a life. Randall was still in that barn, awaiting the decision on his fate.

Daryl took the discovery of Sophia in the barn harder than anyone, the exception being Carol. He moved his tent away from the camp, hunted alone, and stayed away from everyone.

Including you.

The one time you had tried to talk with him, not even about the distance between you, he had reacted with anger. When you stomped away, you swore you wouldn’t go back. And you hadn’t. That had been more than two weeks ago.

Inside the house, you were noticing even more changes but these were within your own body. It was as if, over night, your breasts had decided that your bra was just no longer suitable housing. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you studied them. They didn’t look bigger. Squeezing them in your palms, you hissed at the tender ache the gentle action left behind. You’d just have to wear a flannel over your cami so your nipples didn’t alert everyone that the evening was getting chilly.

Your special condition had been particularly nasty the past two days, requiring fluids once again, leaving you weak and exhausted. You grabbed your jeans from the armchair and stepped into them. There was the slightest bit of resistance getting them over your hips, earning a crease in your brow. It wasn’t until the button and zipper wouldn’t meet that you realized something really had changed.

Pushing the denim back to your knees, you turned sideways in front of the mirror. Sure enough, there was the slightest curve to your lower belly. How hadn’t you noticed? With a defeated slump to your shoulders, you let your head roll over to where your sleep pants laid at the foot of the bed. Those and your oversized t-shirt had been enough to keep you ignorant to the changes your body was making to accommodate your baby.

“Ugh, I’m not ready, Thumper.” You whined with a cool palm over the small bump. Grumbling to yourself as you kicked off the jeans and grabbed the plaid cotton pants, you slipped them on and just pulled the t-shirt back on over your camisole. Your flannel would be enough against the autumn chill and with your boots adding to your already questionable attire, you trudged out the door and down the stairs.

Your first stop was the kitchen. Lori was there with Carl, handing him a plate that contained a sandwich and probably stale potato chips. She smiled at you as you entered, eyeing your outfit with a barely concealed smile.

“Hey there. Making a fashion statement?”

Drinking down a glass of water to swallow your pill, you turned sideways and hauled up your shirt and cami before lowering your pants slightly. The other woman gave you a nod.

“Ah, I see.” Lori began putting away food that was not used for lunch. “How far along are you?”

The question caught you off guard. You honestly hadn’t thought about it in a while. You had been more concerned with Glenn being able to find enough vitamins, with keeping down enough food and water, with Daryl being a jerk, and just with surviving. The farm had brought about several weeks of safety and you wished for your little calendar that you had kept in the beginning.

“It’s okay if you don’t—”

“No, I got this.” You assured, beginning to count on your fingers. It was more difficult than you thought. The days seemed to blend, some more eventful than others, leaving you unable to recall the quiet days in between. “Maybe 17 weeks?”

Lori nodded. “Sounds about right. Everyone’s different but I’m finding myself more sick with this one than I ever was with Carl. When you have your second, it could be smooth sailing and you could have already popped,” she raised her hands in air quotes, “by the time you’re this far along.”

You tilted your head. “Popped?”

Lori chuckled and continued with her task. “Means that one day you just wake up to a very noticeable belly.”

You looked down at your stomach, still on display with your shirt tucked under your arms to keep it raised. You wouldn’t say that you have popped as Lori put it. It was hardly noticeable until you tried to fasten your jeans. However, it was there. You adjusted your clothes and pursed your lips with a hum.

“Not sure there’ll ever be a second. I think one might be enough for the end of the world.”

You could see her expression shift, the smile and ease morphing into a questioning discomfort. Maybe it was time to table this conversation.

“I think I’ll head outside for a while. Get some fresh air. Maybe see if someone will take me to get some different clothes. I definitely don’t want to run around in my pajamas when the weather turns.” The other woman nodded with a tight-lipped smile. “Let me know if you need help with anything.”

“I will, thanks.”

You dipped your head and ambled out the screen door. The sun’s glare, high in the sky, was a shock to your eyes after being tucked away inside. Your hand acted as a visor against your brow as you scanned the farm. Everyone was scurrying around in their day to day activities, a sort of normalcy settling since everyone had moved into the house.

Except Daryl, of course.

You heaved a sigh at the thought of him out toward the edge of the farm alone. He could handle himself but the self isolation he was inflicting caused a heaviness in your heart that was beginning to fester. Carol had tried to bring him back and he had become irate. The things he had said to her were shared with you when the woman had finally let her tears fall against your shoulder. You wanted to throat punch him.

Maybe you would.

You saw Andrea perched on top of the RV with her rifle. You could almost picture Dale hovering behind her, as he often did. The vehicles had been moved closer to the house, providing much needed reassurance of a quick escape if it were deemed necessary. Chewing on your lip, you let your shoulders drop. It was time to bury that hatchet.

The climb up the ladder wasn’t as difficult as you thought it’d be. You weren’t thrilled about the height with your sporadic bouts of dizziness but as long as you stayed near the middle, it’d be okay.

Andrea glowered for a moment before turning back to keep watch over the fields.

“Hey.” You greeted. She didn’t respond, her eyes looking you up and down before she turned around again. “I deserve that.”

“You deserve more than that. You pointed a gun at my head.”

You had to close your eyes and take a deep breath. “You could have killed Daryl, Andrea.” You kept your tone level, holding up a hand when she spun around with no doubt a snarky retort on her tongue. “I didn’t come to argue with you. I came to apologize.”

“Yeah? Apology not accepted.”

Another deep breath. “That decision is yours to make. Nevertheless, I’m sorry. I was sick. I was exhausted. I wasn’t thinking clearly and you had just shot the man I lo—the father of my baby.” You blinked, stunned by what you’d almost said in the moment. The look that suddenly appeared on Andrea’s face conveyed she’d caught it too. You shook your head and continued, hoping both of you could just forget it. “None of those things are an excuse for what I did when it was truly a mistake. So, I’m sorry.” When you turned to climb down, you had nearly let yourself be suffocated by the weight of your near an admission. Was it an admission? Were you just emotional? Hormones? Insanity? The dream and then this?

“I won’t tell anyone.”

You turned back, catching her eye and holding it. She could. She could spread it through the group and eventually it would make its way to Daryl and you were not ready to have that conversation. After a moment, you nodded in silent thanks. “Are we good?” Your voice was weaker than you intended.

Andrea smiled, a surprising kindness in her gaze. “We’re good.”

You inexplicably wanted to cry, barely controlling the quiver of your chin. “Thanks.” Going down the ladder was a little more difficult in part to the blurred vision for which the tears were responsible.

Once your feet were on the ground, you just started to walk, no destination in mind. When your heart screamed for Daryl, your rationality stomped it down. He was your friend. Alright, you’d been closer to him than anyone else in the group. It was never supposed to be something more. You didn’t want anything more. You didn’t want a baby with him. You didn’t want to feel trapped there.

But you didn’t feel trapped, did you? The majority of that group was kind to you. They cared for you when you were ill, expecting nothing from you. Daryl, for all his tendency to an absolute asshat, had been tender with you at times. You were safe when you could have been alone, left to figure out the pregnancy and raise a baby on your own. No, you wouldn’t have made it on your own. The complications would have killed you.

You let out a sob, walking faster and allowing the tears to flow without wiping them away. Your cheeks and neck were damp. Why were you even upset? Had the world finally broken you? You thought you’d last much longer than that, but you never could have predicted the events that had led you to where you were.

And where you were was Daryl’s camp.

The archer was perched on the ground, next to a dark patch of earth surrounded by rocks; a fire pit that was currently unutilized. He was scowling when he looked up at your approach, but his expression changed; a sudden conveyance of concern as he hauled himself to his feet.

“S’wrong?”

You didn’t know why you were there. The last thought of him before you spoke with Andrea was one of anger. Your body was crying out for a feeling of safety; for a shield from everything bad that could harm you or the little innocent life inside you. Somehow—for reasons you no longer had the energy to debunk—your feet took you straight to Daryl.

“Y/N?” His gruff voice spoke into your hair after you walked directly into his space, your fisted hands tucked under your chin while your face pressed into the solid warmth of his chest. He didn’t move. You didn’t want him to, not really. It would only make everything more confusing.

When he remained silent but his hand came to rest lightly against your back, you turned your hands and grabbed fistfuls of his vest. You pushed him away and hauled him right back, angry that he let you. You needed him to yell at you. You needed him to tell you that he didn’t care; that he’d only be around for you because of the baby.

When you tried to shove him again, he stood firm, his other hand coming to cradle the back of your head.

“Goddamnit, Daryl! Push me away! Shut me out!” You slapped a hand hard against his chest, fingers pulling at the leather again.

“Why?”

You couldn’t answer him. You couldn’t answer because you didn’t know. You didn’t want him to send you away. And you were so scared of that revelation that you yearned to scream just to feel something other than scattered turmoil that was enveloping your heart in a deviant swaddle of barbed wire.

Without a resolution to your emotional plight, you continued to cry until it drained everything out of you. Damn him, he just stood there with his arms around you; being the shield you so desperately needed. You wanted to hate him for it.

You wanted to, but you couldn’t.

Your sobs eventually dulled into sniffles and hiccups. After what felt like hours, your legs gave out, any strength you had when you left that bedroom was utterly spent. Daryl didn’t let you fall. You knew he wouldn’t. You weren’t tired enough to miss the way he held you up or the way he bent to sweep his arm under your knees.

You didn’t look at him while he carried you; turned your back to him when he placed you on the cot inside his tent. The flinch when he draped the sleeping bag over you was unintentional. You hoped he’d leave. Maybe he’d go out to hunt, irritated that you invaded the space he’d built for himself.

“Why’re ya here?”

Of course he didn’t. The universe hated you, that was abundantly clear now. “I—don’t know.”

“This cause’a hormones or whatever s’called?”

You snorted weakly, your hand working out from beneath the sleeping bag to wipe at your face. “What do you know about hormones, Daryl?”

“The book says—”

“Book?” You sat up on your forearm and twisted to look back at him. The archer looked annoyed, a decent flush spreading from his cheeks to the top of his ears.

“Went into that town they go to for the meds an’ shit. Grabbed a, uh, book about baby stuff.” You blinked at him, earning a frown in return. “Don’t look at me like that. Yeah, I read, Y/N.”

You looked past his shoulder to where two books peeked from beneath some of his clothes. The one in question was closer, upside down and open beside the battery powered lamp.

The Expectant Father: Facts, Tips, and Advice for Dads-to-be

The small upturn of one corner of your mouth had him shifting to shield the book from your sight.

“How much have you read?”

“‘Nough to know it ain’t much fun for ya some’a the time.” He wouldn’t look at you now, finding interest in a piece of grass that he’d tracked inside. You hummed, a stirring in your chest that directly correlated with the feelings that had guided you there in the first place. The difference now was that you felt oddly grounded, able to focus on a single thought or feeling.

“Daryl?” He grunted without looking up. “Will you please move into the house?”

He sighed as though he’d been asked a thousand times. “Nah, too many people.”

“Then—can I stay out here with you?” It was your turn to find something to occupy your gaze. You settled on the sleeping bag zipper.

“Ya need to be inside. Safer there.”

“I have a bedroom.” You weren’t sure how you felt about sharing a close space with the hunter, but you knew you needed him close. Tent or bedroom, you didn’t really care. “It’d just be me and you.”

The subtle shift of his jaw indicated he was chewing the inside of his cheek. Maybe you could find him something like toothpicks or straws, anything to keep him from hurting himself when he was uncomfortable.

“Why ya want me there? Ain’t like I’m miles away.”

“I feel safer with you.” Now it was you turning pink, your cheeks and neck flushing warm.

Daryl snorted. “Ya got over half a dozen people in there.”

“They’re not you.” You countered before you could think of a better way to say it. “Look, you’re the first person I met from this group. You’ve never hurt me. I trust you to fight with me.” You ducked your head. “To fight for me. To protect me if I can’t protect myself. To protect our baby.” When you met his eyes, you realized he had never looked at you the way he was at that moment. He still had that unreadable expression that you sometimes wanted to slap off of his face, but his eyes. There was something in his eyes.

“Lemme think ‘bout it.” He stated while rising to his feet. “Gotta meet ‘bout the kid later. Letcha know after.”

You didn’t want to drop the subject but at least he was going to consider it. Sitting up, you slumped on the cot, already feeling the need for a nap. Your energy levels had taken a major hit from your momentary lapse of sanity. Scratching at an itch on your belly, you were suddenly struck with the urge to share the progress note with Daryl. He was reading damn books on pregnancy. Surely he’d want to see. Right?

“Um, Daryl?”

“Yeah?” He’d stepped out to get his crossbow and bring it inside, continuing whatever he’d been doing. He still hadn’t asked you to leave. Maybe he was afraid you’d go batshit crazy a second time.

“I thought you might—well, this morning—” You furrowed your brow, groaning at your inability to put it into words. Finally, you just stood and lifted your shirt, sliding your pants down to just above your pubic bone. “I, uh, can’t get into my jeans anymore thanks to Thumper.”

Goddamn the man’s ability to maintain an expression of complete and utter stoicism. You suddenly felt self conscious, exposed. Maybe he couldn’t even see the difference. Fuck.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t—I think I should go.” You slipped your fingers beneath the waistband of the pants but that’s as far as you got before you felt Daryl’s fingertips on your knuckles. He didn’t say anything as he stepped closer, shining blue orbs zeroed in on your stomach. You tracked his movements, each step slow and deliberate until he was directly in front of you. Using the tip of his index finger, he drew a line from your sternum to just where your pants sat below the small curve of your belly.

“Really in there, huh?” His voice was soft and raspy and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you at all. It seemed like a moment between father and child. His palm was warm when he placed it flat just below your navel. You watched his hand, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin. It tickled but you stifled the giggle that threatened.

You opened your mouth to ask what the book said about how far along you were but when you lifted your gaze from your belly, he wasn’t looking at it at all. Deep blue pools were staring right back at you.

You knew your breaths were coming faster and your heart was beating a tattoo against your ribs. “Daryl?” Did you imagine that or did he just glance at your lips? You brought your hand to his face, barely brushing his skin when he pulled away abruptly.

“Head on back to the house. Don’t think I’ll be movin’ in there. Better out here.” He grabbed up his weapon and turned his back to you.

You were still standing frozen, belly exposed and hand just finally dropping to your side. “Daryl, I—”

“Go.” Daryl’s voice cracked on the word.

You adjusted your clothing and stepped toward him. “Daryl—”

“GO!”

Eyes blown wide, you flinched back and stumbled from the tent. With energy you didn’t know you had, you ran and managed to make it to the house without falling though you stumbled on more than one occasion. You ignored the concerned calls of your name, nearly taking a tumble on the stairs, before finally disappearing into the bedroom and slamming the door. With your back against it, you tried and tried to catch your breath through the onslaught of tears. Your chest was tight, your stomach rolling.

Trapped in your distress, you couldn’t hear the screen door slap against the wall, Daryl’s boots heading toward the stairs, or even Carol’s accusatory shout.

“What did you do, Daryl?!”

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celestialkiri · 1 year

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THAT MINI COMIC PANEL WAS GOD TIER!!! Macaque is such a terrifying bastard but he does it so well lol Ok! More questions if you’re willing to answer!

How does Wukong react when he finds out Reader has been kidnapped by the Six Eared Macaque? Not only that but how does he also react to the fact that he cannibalized one of his family members and made Reader cry as well? And lastly, when all is said and done does Wukong comfort Reader afterwards?

Sorry if this is too many! Feel free to pick and choose!

Oh man! Listen, I tried to doodle some epic fighting comic for this one but man fighting is not easy to draw. I might someday do a little part 2 of Sophie (aka Reader) and MC JUST before Wukong is going woop his ass bc that monkey will hurt her. But I did draw something for this you!

But for your question, Wukong would go APESHIT FERAL for Macaque! He would go mad if he even touches her in a bad way so imagine when he sees that she is bleeding AND the bastard ate one of his family members. He would make sure to destroy Macaque like there is no tomorrow! The fighting would be FERAL and epic not gonna lie!

After the fighting is over and MC is dead Sophie would have a breakdown. Be in her shoes for a moment: You are YEETED to a random world where you have no experience with demons, fighting, or even having a long long journey. Walking many hours every day. You are completely cut off from your family and friends and you have almost died. (and no internet or wifi to call someone) Not many people understand your feelings because for them this harsh life is normal. She would start to cry hard for stress, sadness, and adrenaline.

Wukong is not good when it comes to showing feelings, but he is not a completely narcissistic asshole! He has his own problems and might not sometimes understand Sophie's feelings and why she is so sensitive but at that moment it hurts him to see her like this. He knows that he's been an asshole to her many times despite her treating him as an equal. So for a long time, he would hold her and comfort her. This would be a part where these two would also become much closer and later there will be a romance between these two.

#good riddance MC #sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #jttw reader #journey to the west #jttw sun wukong #ittw sun wukong #ittw reader #jttw tag #jttw six eared macaque #six eared macaque #my art #personal questions

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themistymountainscold · 8 months

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Someone could tell Izzy that Frenchie doesn’t actually like him and is just messing with him. And Izzy would just believe them. Oh no I’m sad

god this man really has no self worth does he? he’ll believe anyone when they tell him he’s just being used, ‘cause he’s only ever been used.

and he doesn’t know what real affection looks like ‘cause he never had it. so frenchie being with him was easy to mark as just “temporary pleasure” since, yet again, all izzy has been used for.

the mere concept of being wanted is totally foreign to him. he can’t see how much frenchie actually cares.

as soon as izzy is told frenchie is just messing with him, he’ll draw in on himself, avoiding frenchie any moment he can. frenchie’s on deck? oh looks like izzy’s gotta check rations. frenchie is below? ah perfect timing izzy is on watch in the nest (he totally kicked whoever was on out)

but frenchie didn’t stop trying to get to him. izzy didn’t understand why. if it was all just a game why was frenchie still playing? it made izzy angry.

and he doesn’t understand why frenchie keeps chasing him, always trying to talk to him.

when frenchie finally managed to catch up to izzy, getting them both alone in a room below deck, frenchie asks izzy “what’s going on? and why are you avoiding me?”

izzy then blow’s up, yelling about how the ruse was up, that he knew he was just a bet to frenchie, nothing more than a pathetic fuck because there was nothing else. he let’s out everything he made himself believe.

frenchie can only stand there as izzy rants, his frown only deepening with each word out of izzy’s mouth, but let’s him speak his mind.

when he’s done, frenchie let’s izzy breathe for a few seconds, before stepping forward, voice low and telling him, it was never a joke, that izzy wasn’t a bet. frenchie tells him how he really feels, and that’s he’s sorry he ever made izzy feel like it wasn’t real.

he then asks why izzy thought those things.

izzy tells him.

“blackbeard.”

#no ‘cause like imagine this while ed was in his fucked up state #ruining izzy like how he felt ruined #he’s messing with you just like how stede messed with me #i should make this into a full fic #anon <3 #ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #frenchie #izzy x frenchie #ouizzy #frenchie x izzy #frenchizzy #frenchie ofmd

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jaylleoo14 · 6 months

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How I like to draw the twst characters because nobody asked

♡ i like drawing Jade two ways: Pretty boy twink or a "your daughter calls me daddy too"

♡ For Azul its either an unhinged crazy ass who might secretly be a boy loser or a fucking smartass scum who isnt pathetic

♡ Floyd is.... well, Floyd. He's silly! I love him unconditionally <3 (no i dont thats a lie- ACK HELP HES CHOKING ME-) Joking, I LOVE drawing him having threatening and scary faces. (that goes for Jade as well)

♡ Idia is either a whimpering begging mess or hes a fucking cocky menace whos actually threatening

♡ Leona is soft shy lion or a badass (yasss slay queen, we stan you‼️) and sassy at the same time (Have you seen the way he stans with his hand on his hip?)

♡ Vil is just strait up serving cunt, no words needed (she is always SERVING from the university of servington with a degree in serving cunt) I always draw him winning because she always is (we stay winning💯)

♡ Rook is an unhinged stalker with a crazy obsession or he's just a silly little lad whos always supportive of others (I like drawing him threatening too)

♡ Epel is my pretty boy who I love to draw because he's so pretty. I like to draw him very wild though and rambunctious

♡ Rollo is literally the same as Idias except he tries to hold his pride feeling really embarrassed

♡ Riddle has a strong presence and personality which i like to convey, being ruthless yet being incredibly soft. I like drawing him cute and pretty sometimes too :3

♡ TREY HAS NICE MF ARMS YOU KNOW DAMN WELL IM DRAWING HIM SCRUMDELIOUCIOUS

♡ Cater makes me sad, so I indulge myself in it. I like drawing him around deep and depressing themes, sometimes dark as well.

♡ Ruggie is either street punk cool and swaggy or damn attractive with an unhinged and sneaky overlay

♡ Jack is so cute to me, I like drawing him as the tsundere he is with a playful side to him with the overprotective bodyguard vibes

♡ Ace... I HATE THAT STUPID MF!!! God he's so annoying we might as well date already >:( He's super playful and flirty and i like drawing him sly and sometimes awkwardly flustered

♡ Deuce is my baby boy crush >\\\\< Hes so precious literally he's my soft boy. I love him sm omg

♡ Malleus is so awkward and somewhat stoic, yet thats what makes him cute! He's like a himbo to me hahahaha hes so silly to me sometimes but then im like, oh wait, hes hot. And then i do a 360 and all of a sudden he's this hot smirking bastard

♡ Lilia is so drippy he's my little doll, I want to style him in so many different ways (●ˇ∀ˇ●) and he's so badass yet girlypop at the same time, hello?? No one can pull it off like Lilia does, its the bisexual in him 🤞

♡ Silver is so sweet and pretty, though I always draw him sleeping because its so easy just drawing someone sleeping in low quality T0T (sorry Silver stans)

♡ Sebek is a silly little guy who I want to kick for the fun of it sometimes ^-^ But I like drawing him getting teased a lot or often getting picked on because I find it funny

♡ Jamil being a sassy overworked mom who always too tired to show any type of expression other than showing anger, exasperation, or an anxious stressed out look. Other than that, its a tired deadpan face for me as he's holding a mug saying "kys." Jamil is like a little hater to me and I stan that <3

♡ Kalim being oblivious and a bit slow, but other than that hes the happy radiating sunshine we all know as. I like giving him moments where hes so genuine and kind where you're just completely soft around him and an arrow shoots through your heart

♡ Ortho is that friendly neighbor! I like him drawing him being supportive of others and always being Idia's right hand man who can also be sneaky and sly

This doesnt usually apply to their yandere self though ^^

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kbagraces · 3 months

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Curious Time - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Singer!reader

Multiple part series where their friendship was easy, their feelings were confusing and the distance was the hardest <3

(3rd person perspective)

PART 3 -

BUBBLEGUM

"It's sad because it just hurts. I'd do anything for you."

The week drawing to a close, a sad vibe lingered between the two of them. They cherished the moments they spent together, but with the final day approaching they both struggled to keep spirits high.

With both of their career paths, it was hard to fit into each other lives, but Lando's summer break ending and you preparing for the release for her next single, she knew contact would fall back to a minimum. They were both the most important people in one another's lives, even if they didn't speak for a year that would remain true, but bitter sweet.

The staycations would become day visits, turning to missed calls and sparse texts until their schedules aligned once more. She hated saying goodbye, she hated leaving him. She wished either of the jobs was less demanding but neither would ever give it up despite the toll it took on the two of them.

The final day was here. They agreed on day in bed as her flight was late and she couldn't be tired and miss it. The day was filled with hugs and sweet nothings, days like today is the only time she blurred the friendship line, when sober that is. Nothing too intimate, they'd never take it that far but her fingers would find their way into his curls as he's lying on her lap. Massaging any stress he has away, knowing it'll come flooding back as soon as she leaves.

"I wish you didn't have to go. Everything is easier with you here." He sighs. His head lifting up, sitting beside her so he can look in her eyes.

"You'll be fine in a week and you know it. Back to normal, you'll busy yourself with work and soon enough you'll be racing, you won't have time to give me a second thought." She smiles, she knows the first week is the hardest, but they're both cut from the same loaf, distract yourself with work and it soon enough goes. Until a hard day hits and all she needs is him.

"You're never a second thought and you know it. You're first in my life, always."

She could cry, she would never not in-front of him that's not fair on either of them. But God does she adore him. She couldn't live without him. "You're my favourite. I wish I could stay."

Silence takes over once more, nothing more needs to be said. An hour more of cuddling this way the sun has set the room dimly lit by the street lamps and the glow of the city.

"I need to make sure I've got all my stuff." She sighs shifting his head off her lap. Slithering out of bed, dragging herself to the room, her bags mainly packed but she likes to check then check again. She drags each bag to the front door, another quick glance over the now empty room making sure she hasn't forgotten anything.

Lando's now stood in the doorway once more, "I'll miss having your mess everywhere."

"It wasn't mess! It was so I was able to see what I brought with me!" She fires back, knowing he was only joking.

She falls into his arms, she has to leave now. He can't take her to the airport it's far too busy for the two of them to both arrive there. A mob at an airport is one way to piss the staff off before a flight.

She breathes in her scent once more, he kisses the top of her heard. "Don't go." He mumbled into her hair.

"That's not fair Lan, and you know it.", she looks up at him with sad eyes, their faces inches apart. His eyes dart between hers, he's leaning in.

He kisses her, she doesn't even comprehend before returning the kiss. Just like them laying together they fit. It's right. This feels right. So why is she pulling away, why is she pushing him away.

"We can't Lando, we can't do that. Please don't do that." Oh but I want to do that again, her heart says but her head is stronger.

He looks hurt and confused, "Why? y/n/n I know you feel it. Everyone says it. Come on." He grabs her hands pulling her close, not to kiss her again but to lessen the distance. He doesn't like how far she pulled away, he needs her close. Always.

"I can't do this Lando. Not now. Not when I'm leaving. I know what'll happen you'll promise me stuff and I'll promise you stuff. But we can't maintain it, not with the distance. And I'll lose you, one of us will get hurt and I'll lose you. I can't lose you." Tears appear in the corner of her eyes but she wipes them away before they can exit. Don't cry, dammit, she thinks.

Lando let's go of her hands now, running his own through his hair in frustration and upset. "You won't try? You won't even try? You'll never lose me no matter what. This could be good, so good and you won't try?" He's aware he sounds desperate, apart of him is. Having her here for almost a month has made him more aware of his feelings than even.

"We've never even discussed this Lando! You can't say all this as I'm about to leave!"

"I don't need to say it! I know you feel the same. It's us, I know how you feel. 'He's not you' that's what you said."

"I'd love it work Lan. I'd love nothing more. We can't even keep our friendship going for months, let alone a relationship. Please don't be angry at me. I need to in my life I don't want to risk losing you in case it doesn't work."

Lando knows in his soul it would work. There's nothing in the world he wouldn't do to make it work. He can't force her mind to change however.

"I disagree. But I can't force you. Im always yours. I'll always be yours, y/n/n. It's you." He pulls her in for a hug, her phone ringing in the background. The Uber having just arrived at the worst time.

He clears his throat, weak from holding back tears and frustration, "I'll bring ur bags down, I'll meet you down there, tell him to wait 5."

Y/n runs ahead, speaking to the Uber driver in her limited French as Lando loads up the boot. The driver gets in, sensing the goodbye should be private.

"Lan, I'm yours but it just won't work."

What does that mean? He wants to scream. He knows she wants him. That's why she rejects every man who's not him. She's shown no romantic interest in anyone else since they met, she hides behind the work excuse, because she wants him, she just won't give herself to him.

"I'll wait." He promises.

"You don't have to."

"Then how come I do?"

They hug for a little too long, the driver visibly getting impatient. They don't care. She kisses him, on the cheek this time, like she always does. He makes her promise to call him when she lands, she does but she knows he'll be asleep, and the drifting apart will begin again. It's only a matter of time.

Masterlist

#lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #f1

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starrclown · 5 months

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☆ Redesign Time/Have Tea With Me: The Black Characters of Hazbin Hotel, The Radio Demon ☆

Note: Okay I kinda feel like a cheat because it isn't a whole redesign, it's just two sketchy headshots. Sorry it's not a full design. Sorry also it isn't my Stolitz Rewrite... but I have 10 followers now!! I know that's not alot but hey, it means people actually WANT to read these blogs and see my art. I'll take it!!)

Ahoy Matey's!! So there has been two controversies going on withing the Hazbin Hotel fandom. 1 has been long term while the other is semi recent.

Have tea with me while we talk about it 🫖🍵:

1. The black/people of color don't have any features of their race.

2. Alastor's voodoo symbols.

I will not be talking about Alastor's voodoo. I am a white boy and I am not educated enough to talk about Voodoo. What I'm here to talk about is that none of the poc look like poc. Let's play another game. What is the race of these characters:

Have your guess? Their black. Sera is black, Velvette is black, and Alastor is Creole. All are black and or mixed and none of them have any ethnic features. All of them are gray. (I'm just saying it's sad when me, a white boy that has 2c/3a hair, has curlier hair then people with textured hair.)

(Also, Alastor, who is not a good guy but is the good guy team, is light gray. Velvette, who is on the villains side, is dark gray. I'm not accusing Viv of being racist but I find it weird.)

The problem is so easy to fix. GIVE THEM ETHNIC FEATURES!! ITS SO EASY!! No one's expecting you to draw every individual braid or dreadlock but oh my god!! Give them textured hair! Or I don't know, NOT ASHY GRAY SKIN!! BLACK PEOPLE ARE BEAUTIFUL VIV!! YOU CAN MAKE THEM BROWN ITS OKAY I SWEAR!! Sorry that got aggressive. Look, I just said that I am not a poc but there's no way they don't have black people on the SpindleHorse team. Hell, you can just ask people on Twitter or the black people you know!! Seriously, it's not hard to learn to draw ethnic features! It's really fun actually! I had so much fun drawing the second hairstyle!! Speaking if which!! (Drum noises)

Drawing these hairstyles were so fun yall. Andddddd, you get a sneak peak at what my Alastor redesign might look like! If you can tell what I'm going for then you get a cookie. Dude the second hairstyles was so fun. Like honestly. I do think I can do the first hairstyle, (I think I know the nameof this hairstyle but I don't want to be wrong.), better but thats for me to practice on my own time. Seriously I had so much fun drawing these. Hell I didn't even line them. Those are sketches with colors. These aren't final designs or anything, I still need to adjust colors and get his outfit planned out but I think I know where I'm going with this!!

The hairstyles I used:

It's just really sad seeing how SpindleHorse treats its poc characters. Textured hair can come in so many different types and hairstyles, you just wasting them making have straight hair with choppy waves. (Side note: Does anyone else like get excited when they draw new things? Like I was happy drawing Al's hair. I got excited learning how to draw my curls. I tried learning how to draw a hijab. It's really fun actually!! I highly suggest to challenge yourself drawing other types of hair types, races, religions, clothing. Seriously it helps your art and representation is important.)

There were other examples I couldn't list but I don't want this to be long. I want to get back to my Stolitz post but I HAD to draw Alastor with textured hair. Seriously Viv, he's Creole, at least make him look like it if your not even going to try and make him look like what he's described.

I have about 60% of the Stolitz post done! I encourage you to draw something new and to commit mass amounts of tax fraud!! Goodbye Matey's!!

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

#artwork #digital art #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #hazbin hotel art #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel redesign #HIS HAIR WAS SO FUN YALL!!

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tabl3 · 17 days

Text

elite force incorrect quotes compilation

chase, making coffee: This is going to fix everything.

chase: I think you're still suffering the effects of your party last night. bree: All I drank was Redbull! chase: How many? bree: Eighteen.

oliver: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly. kaz, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

kaz: You have any sunscreen? skylar: You can't get a sunburn from a bonfire— kaz: It's for my marshmallow ya dummy.

kaz: Would I rather be feared or loved? Easy. Both. I want people to fear how much they love me.

(the saga)

bree: chase? I mixed redbull with coffee and now I can see sounds, should I worry? chase: bree, I swear to god—

oliver: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway. chase: oliver: Vroom vroom, come out already.

skylar: You didn’t cry when bambi’s mother died?! chase, sarcastically: Yes, it was very sad when the guy stopped drawing the deer.

chase, to the squad: And remember, if I get harsh with you it is only because you’re doing it all wrong.

bree, in a high voice, holding Barbie: Hey, Ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career! skylar, in a deep voice, holding Ken: Nonsense, Barbie. You’re staying home and having my kids. kaz: What the fuck are you guys doing? bree: Playing systemic oppression.

bree: Hey, oliver. These candies you gave me? They sucked. oliver: But you ate them all. bree: I had to make sure they all sucked.

skylar: Hey, wanna hear a funny joke? chase: I only like dark humor. skylar, turning the lights off: What do you call a fake noodle? chase: skylar: An IMPASTA!

bree: I hate you sometimes. kaz: Well according to this picture chase drew of us holding hands that's not true. bree: kaz, you drew that. kaz: It doesn't matter.

skylar: The greatest trick the devil ever played was getting me banned from an all you can eat pizza buffet. bree: Why’d you get banned? skylar: Touched the rat. bree: … What rat? skylar: Chunky Cheese.

bree: Why is skylar crying on the floor? chase: She took one of those 'which elite force member are you?' quizzes. bree: And? chase: She got oliver.

oliver: Why are you drinking? kaz: I drink when I'm depressed. oliver: But you're always drinking? kaz: smug grin

skylar: Can you PLEASE peer pressure me into doing my project? kaz: Do it or you're straight. skylar: I said peer pressure, NOT THREATEN!

skylar: heading out to see bree oliver: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! skylar: I think I crossed that line when I got a date.

kaz: skylar has discovered "deez nuts" jokes and it's all she says now. Everything is deez nuts. She simply can't stop. kaz: I asked skylar where she learned that joke. She made me promise she wouldn't get in trouble if she told me. I agreed. kaz: So she leans in and whispers, "deez nuts."

bree: I feel like the world would be better if I'd never been born. chase: Aw… that's not true. chase: It'd be exactly the same. chase: You're not important.

kaz, to bree: Look at you! All cute and small! I could just eat you up! bree: proceeds to kick him in the shin and run away chase, walking past: Rule number 1, don't call bree cute or small.

chase, referring to oliver and kaz: Those guys are dorks. skylar: Yes, but they’re my dorks.

kaz: I think chase is in trouble. oliver: Alright. Struggling to give a fuck, if I’m honest.

oliver: So anyways have y'all seen chase? bree: I think he went in kaz's room 'studying'. skylar: Doubt that. I heard groans there. Meanwhile in kaz's room chase & kaz, fighting:

chase: What do we say when life disappoints us? kaz: Called it! chase: No.

kaz: I may be stupid. bree: … kaz: Oh, did you think I was going to finish that sentence?

villain: You’re too late, Superdorks! You'll never stop me now! skylar: That’s where you’re wrong, evildoer! We WILL stop you, with the powers of: chase: Friendship! kaz: Harmony! bree: Incredible violence. oliver: And love!

chase: out cold on the ground oliver: Oh my god, do you think he's okay?! kaz, holding a bucket of ice water: Who cares?! dumps all of the water on chase’s face

skylar: Your smug self-assuredness is revolting. kaz: I think we need to validate self confidence more, lest you end up angry at others for having even a sliver of it. I've done nothing wrong and I have a heart of gold. oliver: I think this message is extremely valid, but also kaz has implied wanting to set off the Yellowstone supervolcano, so what's the truth? kaz: I want to set it off.

oliver: We wouldn’t last two minutes without chase. oliver: oliver: Don’t tell him I said that.

oliver: Go to sleep or you'll hate yourself in the morning! chase: I'll hate my self in the morning regardless.

kaz: Reverse tooth fairy where you leave money under your pillow and the tooth fairy comes and leaves you a bunch of teeth. oliver: Why? kaz, shaking a bag of teeth: Just because.

bree: The next time I open up to someone, it'll be my autopsy.

kaz: Can you be quiet?! I'm trying to think. skylar: Don't worry. Doing anything for the first time is difficult.

chase: I owe you one. kaz: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

skylar: Two years ago, I married my best friend. skylar: kaz is still mad about it, but me and chase were drunk and thought it was funny.

chase: Oh, so you two are getting along very… cordial now? kaz: Cordial? Nah, we're friends. chase: Friends? kaz: Yeah. After you stopped us fighting, we got to talking. Seems like we have some common interests. bree: We both love butterflies. chase: Aww– bree: And beating people up. chase: Oh, okay.

chase: Everyone synchronise your watches. skylar: I don't know how to do that. oliver: I don't wear a watch. bree: Time is a construct.

kaz: Are you reading fan fiction? oliver, reading an article about extremely rare diseases: Wh- No. kaz: Oh, is it on AO3? oliver: This is CNN.

chase: Pose as a team because SHIT JUST GOT REAL!

skylar: I wish I could help you, but I shorn’t. chase: skylar, please! skylar: What part of shorn’t don’t you understand?

chase: How do you do that? kaz: I'm fearless. bree: I saw you run from bees yesterday. You flailed around and tripped over a chair. It was both hysterical and sad. kaz: I'm mostly fearless.

chase: Come on, skylar. Nobody actually believes that kaz is in love with me. skylar, to The Squad: Raise your hand if you think that kaz is helplessly in love with chase. Everyone raises their hand chase: kaz, put your hand down.

skylar: We need to distract these guys. kaz: Leave it to me. kaz: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. chase & bree: immediately begin arguing

kaz: running towards chase with open arms chase: moves out of the way kaz: Hey, why'd you move?! chase: I thought you were going to attack me. kaz: I was going to hug you! chase: Why would you hug me? kaz: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

chase: skylar, I think we have a problem. skylar: What, the fire? chase: No, the- wait, what fire? skylar: Oh forget about it, this sounds more interesting.

chase: I called you like ten times! Why didn’t you pick up? oliver: remembers dancing to the ringtone oliver: I didn’t hear it.

bree: Wait, if baby oil dissolves condoms, what does it do to babies? oliver: Believe it or not, babies and condoms are made of different materials. kaz: It’s like rock paper scissors. Baby oil defeats condom, baby defeats baby oil, condom defeats baby. chase: Rock also defeats baby.

oliver: If God’s ever been mad at anything I’ve ever said, he hasn’t done shit about it. oliver: So he either doesn’t care or he’s a coward.

bree, holding an antique bottle: Is this whiskey or perfume? skylar: grabs and chugs the entire bottle skylar: skylar: It's perfume.

kaz: I want to kiss you. chase, not paying attention: What? kaz: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

oliver: Why is everyone so obsessed with top or bottom? Honestly, I’d just be excited to have a bunk bed. bree: bree: I'm gonna tell him. skylar: Don't you dare.

oliver: You either buckle down and do your work or you’ll end up at McDonalds. kaz: We're going to McDonalds if I don't do my work? oliver: NO-

oliver: Not to brag, but I can go into the Spirit Halloween without crying.

chase: What do people in relationships even do? skylar: Care about someone with your whole heart and dedicate your life to making them happy. chase: Okay. Didn't ask. kaz: Asks question kaz: "Didn't ask" chase: Thanks for the play by play, Captain Fuck.

oliver: Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions. chase: Ridiculous. Give me some examples. kaz: Wasps? bree: Terriers? oliver: bree.

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coffee-master · 4 months

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it’s sad we didn’t get to see some of Nyas solo missions as samurai x in the show. Can we get a solo mission of Kai where he is badass ?

also, imagine Cole hating Samurai X and thinking he is a show-off and badmouthing the samurai every time the ninjas (plus Wu, Lloyd and Kai) have dinner and Kai can’t say a word). He would be embarrassed to find out it was Kai all along hahaha

To answer that Anon I need to explain firstly Kai's role as the Samurai X here, because it's way diffrent compared to Nya's.

Here I'm gonna mostly talk about Samurai X

Why did Kai became Samurai X is pretty much easy to answer. At the beginning Kai was pretty much taken away from the fights (mostly by Nya) by other ninjas and treated a bit like a damsel in distress.

Kai was often irritated by it, because he wanted to help the team and especially his sister, by others just didn't let him have this chance. That's why he created Samurai X.

Better question is how he created Samurai X?

Kai isn't engineer of any kind or a tinkerer of any kind. You could even say that he doesn't like any too complicated technology. This just isn't his thing. So how was he able to do that?

After all this is Nya's thing and there's the point.

Since they were children Kai had to take care of Nya, when they parents dissapeared. It was hard time especially for Kai, since he had to provide food and money for both of them. And to be able to do that, Kai had to drop out of school and start working pretty quickly.

Meanwhile Nya still went to school in that time. Kai wanted her to be fully educated and have better job for the future, so she wouldn't have to work that hard like him.

In that time Nya discovered her passion for mechanisms, constructing and building machines.

So often after school his sister liked to talk about this subject and Kai would quietly listen to it. Moreover Nya had often took part in school technical projects, where she always won. For the first place she also received cash prizes, which supported them.

With new motivation and passion she started to really get into it. In her free time Nya often used to draw some plans and detailed plans for new projects with explanations.

And that's the point of how Kai made it.

At some point Kai was tired of doing nothing and decided take matters into his own hands. He stole one of her sister's project and built it cumsily.

Yes, Samurai X was originally one of Nya's project. She had a lot of them, but didn't have time or money to make it reality.

I don't think I'll give here much of Kai's solo missions as Samurai X, because this isn't part of his personality or him.

Kai did this, because didn't saw any other choice. He was able to adapt to the situation, but building machines isn't part of his hobbys or he's as good at this as his sister.

Building Samurai X was actually very difficult for Kai.

He did this becuase he wanted to help.

Of course there surely will be some solo missions of him in this, but not many.

In the beginning Nya didn't notice that one of her plans was gone, until she met Samurai X.

And obviously she was confused and furious. After she immiediatelly started searching through her projects and couldn't find it.

So yeah, like in canon non of ninjas liked Samurai X very much, but Nya hated him the most. The fire ninja thought of him as a thief, who couldn't even do her work properly.

She would be very determined to catch him and win the bet.

But during this time the meals would be very weird for some people..

Ninjas: *are eating meal together*

Cole: Yeah, and there was this Samurai X guy-

Jay: Gosh I hate that guy-

Nya: You hate him!?

Nya: Let me tell you something, because this guy isn't any kind of Samurai! That's just a cheap thief, who couldn't even do the work right and made some sort of cheap fake- MOREOVER HE'S-

Kai: . . .

Kai thinking: *Oh god I'm so dead if she finds out, I'M SO DEAD-*

First | More about AU | Previous | Next

#lego ninjago #ninjago incorrect quotes #ninjago #ninjago kai #kai ninjago #siblings elemental change

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fluffshisuga · 1 year

Text

Baby I’m Yours (Xavier Thorpe)

Part two to “You’re so Pretty it Hurts”!! I’m so glad you guys enjoyed this, and I thank you all for your kind words!

Warnings” Mentions of blood, death, angst. Becomes fluffy, this is a happy end to a sad tale. 1849 words.

Find Part 1 here

The grass that surrounded you was damp with dew, the normally clear drops tainted with your blood. You could feel yourself fading, slowly, painfully. Your throat felt dry even after it was coated with blood. You could still hear the birds above you chirping as they communicated to each other; how you wished you could understand them at this moment. You could barely see as you looked up at the sky, your eyes sliding over to look at the rose you had pulled out from inside you. Its thorns were sharper than a surgical knife and you knew that the damage it caused would be the thing to end you, yet you still pulled.

A faint yell. It almost sounded like Enid, but you weren’t sure. You could feel someone running towards you as their feet hit the ground, and suddenly a high-pitched yelling filled your ears. “WEDNESDAY! XAVIER!” More footsteps followed, and three blurry figures appeared above you. You recognized these people, but you couldn’t quite remember their names, but they knew you, and you knew they were panicking.

“Y/N! Oh my god, Enid! Run as fast as you can, go get the nurse, the principle, SOMEONE!” Xavier yelled as he dropped to his knees, moving your hair from your face, and trying to get a reaction from you. He felt for a pulse; it was weak and fading as you laid there. “Y/n, you’re okay, just keep your eyes open.” He said, repeating the “you’re okay” part, maybe to reassure himself more than you. Wednesday stood behind him, motionless. She was never concerned with death, yet seeing someone that she considered a friend, a close friend, in fact, lay there in their own blood, she was rooted to the ground. You tried to speak, to say sorry to Xavier, but you could only choke as your lungs continued to fill with blood. Xavier quickly lifted you by the shoulders and sat you up, rubbing your back as you continued to spit blood up. He wiped your chin of the blood, hushing you as you tried to speak and holding you close. He didn’t care that his hands were now red, nor did he care about his uniform. All he cared about was getting you help.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday had been here before, standing in a white room listening to the rhythm beeping of a monitor. Students came and went with little gifts and flowers. Enid had busied herself with arranging the gifts and decorating the room, certain gifts like plush animals on the foot of the bed, flowers in the windowsill and counter, balloons in a corner, cards on the bedside table for easy viewing when you woke up. Enid always said that “when y/n wakes up, they’ll want to read the cards. We might not be here when they do!” She refused to say anything else, holding onto the hope that you would wake up, she never used “if”. Xavier stayed with you as well, drawing the flowers that came in so you could see them when you woke up just in case they died before you could see them. Wednesday was the only one that was practical, she didn’t want to admit it, but she wanted to believe that you would wake up. She knew, however, that the grieving process would be longer if she refused to accept it. The doctor had told them that the chances of surviving were next to none, you had lost too much blood and your lungs had been damaged from nearly drowning on it. They said that it was only up to you if you wanted to recover, you were the one that had to pull yourself out of the dirt.

“I’m sorry, but at this point they’re gone. All we can do is sedate them, so they aren’t in pain anymore.” A nurse said, adding sedatives to your drip. The three were there as she said it, Enid bursting into tears as soon as the word sorry left the nurse’s lips. Wednesday had to escort her out of the room, being as helpful as she could for her sobbing companion. Xavier watched as the nurse made sure your pillow was still under your head and that your throat was at least not bleeding, placing a hand on his shoulder as she left. Xavier wanted to leave, to erase the memory of seeing you like this, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he left you to be alone in your final moments.

He held your hand as he sat in a pulled-up chair. He could only watch your chest move lightly as you breathed, afraid that you’d break at any moment. He felt his eyes water as he watched, thinking about the events that led to this moment. “Y/n, I’m sorry. For everything. I know that this is my fault, even if no one else will say it.” Tears had threatened to fall as he continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner, or even thought that this whole flower thing was just a normal thing. If I had known that you were sick, I would have told you sooner.” His head fell to the bed, his lips grazing your knuckles as he broke down.

He cried. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried like this, but the tears wouldn’t stop. It was as if he had no control anymore, his shoulders shook as he sobbed into your bed, his grasp on your hand firm to never let you go. He cried for your smile, heaved when he remembered your laugh. Your hand had become damp from his tears, burning his skin as they fell and leaving salty streaks behind. There was so much he wanted to tell you, and he didn’t know how much time he had left. With tears still falling, he slowly lifted his head up, trying his hardest to take deep breaths. “I’m sorry. I should have told you how much you mattered. How your smile made me smile, and how your laugh was contagious. How your eyes shined when you talked about how interesting something was, it was like looking into the most beautiful painting. I’m such an idiot for never saying anything.” He looked at the flowers in the window. Daisies. He took his wallet out and grabbed the small daisy you had given him, pressed, and preserved. You made that flower and had given it to him, saying that you made it together. It was something you both shared.

~~~~~~

A cough. It scared him at first, causing him to jump. He thought it came from the hall busy with people and patients, but another cough came and went, it was close. His hand started to move as he looked up, watching you strain your eyes as you opened them. He felt as if time had slowed down as you slowly sat up as you continued to cough. Quickly, he snapped out of his trance and sat up to help you, rubbing your back, whispers of “you’re okay” leaving his lips. Again, he didn’t know if he was telling you this, or if he was telling himself, holding you as you breathed. You tried to clear your throat, hitting your chest. “Oh!” you said quietly, a small Pink Camellia leaving your lips. It was clean.

“Xavier? I can’t breathe.” You said, his crushing hug constricted you and stopped you from getting comfortable. “Sorry,” he said, letting you go and looking at your face. The colour had returned and made you look alive, as if he was dreaming. You raised your hand and wiped some tears away, a soft smile on your lips. Xavier felt a smile of his own tug at his lips, and he pulled you in for another hug. As bone crushing as it was, you felt content in his arms, his hair brushing against your face and tickling your nose. “Are you ok? You were basically dead!” Xavier breathed, grabbing your face in his hands, and inspecting it. You nodded, feeling as if nothing had happened. “I feel fine, like I didn’t have a bunch of flowers growing inside me.” Xavier shook his head as he rested his forehead against your own. “If you had said something, at least told someone that the flowers weren’t normal,” he started, about to lecture you. You shushed him, “Ok, mom.”

Xavier rolled his eyes and furrowed his brow. “Sorry. It’s just that you scared us. When we found you, I thought you were already dead.” Your expression softened as you rested your hands onto his, still cradling your face. “I’m sorry too. I just didn’t know what to do.” Xavier pressed a kiss to your temple, a saft smile making its way onto his lips. “Could have said you had a crush on me.” You let out a small laugh, lightly smacking his shoulder. “Could have said it first, you know.” It was Xavier’s turn to laugh, leaning closer to you slowly. You closed the gap, a soft kiss exchanged between the two of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xavier eventually called for Enid and Wednesday, the two girls slowly entering the room, afraid to see your lifeless form. Instead, they were met with you, upright and smiling at them. Enid has screamed, running over and practically leaping into your bed, tears flowing as she hugged you tightly, rambling about how mad she was at you for not telling anyone that something was wrong, mixed with words of her being glad you were ok. Wednesday stood at the door, her dull eyes wide as she took in your smiling face. Slowly she made her way over, standing by your bed. You looked over to her, opening your arms wider and inviting her into the hug. It was a nice gesture, knowing that she wasn’t the person to hug, you still gave her the opportunity. She took it. She wrapped her arms around you and hugged you, unspoken words exchanged between the two of you. You were ok. You were alive. Xavier had you, and you had him. You had Enid and Wednesday.

~~~~~~

~~~~~~~

“Y/n!” A voice shouted behind you, causing you to turn around. Enid came trotting up to you, an envelope in her hands. You tilted your head with a puzzled expression. “What do you have there?” You asked. Enid only smiled and pressed it into your hands, running away and joining Ajax at a table. You shook your head and opened the envelope, pulling out the contents. A small drawing of a rose, beautifully detailed, caught your eye. You smiled as you read the words under it. “A beautiful flower sleeps, whilst watching the dawn.” You pulled another sheet of paper out, unfolding it and reading its contents.

“My dearest flower, as the soul reverberates into the future in a blood red minute, I transcend your heart. I gaze upon your golden lips, for we are bound together, I share with you, we melt into one kiss. A lump in the throat, like a foggy shooting star, I could wait an eternity for your kiss. X.T.”

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thegratefulsouth · 2 months

Text

Alright I have just finished Season 1 of TWD DD and I have thoughts and questions and feelings. And energy!

I am very new to this fandom, and while I've done some searches in places, I'll still just apologise in advance for being repetitive and missing stuff. I will miss stuff every time.

I'll get Laurent out of the way, and even though it's all connected for me, the rest is Caryl.

#1 So Laurent. I have questions about his ability to see into the future. He was convinced Daryl would survive the Gladiator battle, he knew they'd all end up back together. Is this a real thing? Is it coincidence in faith? The drawing I don't care about, I'm not sure how involved he is with the manipulations, but he should definitely be able to feel that this is happening with Isabelle, given his empathic nature. So in that case, does he sense there is a reason to go along with her ways, for a future purpose we don't know about yet.

The empathic thing:

Episode 1, he says to Daryl "You're homesick. I see it in your eyes. I feel things. In my stomach. I feel your sadness." Episode 5, he tells Madame Genet that she isn't angry; her heart is broken.

He can distinguish sadness between heartbreak and homesickness- these are very specific feelings. Are there more examples? Not sure when I'll be able to watch it back. Is this significant? Is there a point to this? Is he going to make the match? Is he going to be overwhelmed by Carol's grief and guilt, though hopefully she'll just be happy and relieved when he meets her (hopefully!!).

"Daryl why don't you just kiss Carol like she wants you to?"

What are the rules around this? I don't know how it works.

#2 Second up! The boats. Is there any evidence that any of the boats have any significance? I know they probably just make sense with the location and the storyline, etc. But when Laurent cuts the boat loose, Daryl is losing his most immediate TANGIBLE lifeline to Carol and that is because a BOAT has drifted. A boat.

Okay, and also, I was thinking about this on my long drive to work this morning and I swear to the husks of dust on my Jim Shore Dorothy and Glinda figurine, Spotify threw THIS song I've never heard before at me. Yes, PIRATE song. Pirate song by mehro. But dear god the lyrics.

"Are you ready to let me in?"

"I've been trying to believe what I said is what I need."

This is such a haunting, beautiful song. I'm so thrilled to discover this artist. I'm not immune to dissolving into a puddle on the side of the road when I hear a new song that spins me out. I feel things so intensely. I'm going to do a post just for this song. This song is Caryl to me.

#3 Daryl's longing for Carol in a ramble:

I like the connection between Daryl saying "I have family back home," and Carol in the teaser clip saying Daryl is the only family she has left. It feels like a string, tying them together. Feels like they're on the same damn boat. Emotionally.

I just want to touch on the name dropping Who Are Your Friends scene with Laurent. Even though I have no idea whether this scene is supposed to have any significance or if it's just supposed to be a simple moment of connection for these two. Regardless, it is significant. Every second beyond about a week just is. So to touch on Laurent again, I'm just wondering is it possible that Daryl's a little guarded here, because he knows the kid's intuitive? Does he feel like he needs to be more careful with his emotions? He's already elevated. But he says Connie's name really easily. It's easy for him to say her name and I think that says a lot. He's trying to connect with the kid, so of course Judith and RJ pop up. Daryl got himself started, and there's a very slight gap, while he's thinking before he offers up Ezekiel. That's where he should say Rosita but she's gone, or Aaron (but too much missage? Their bond), Michonne's not there! Oh, Ezekiel! They were starting to get along? They had a hug and everything? I don't know. I like the link between Connie and Ezekiel though. Anyway Daryl has to say Carol because she is his heartbeat, so he manages to get that out and then he stops. No more names.

Laurent says they sound nice and is Daryl's response a little defensive? Even though Laurent's just a kid, he's a little intense. Daryl says, "Yeah, how do you know?"

I think that's interesting. Like he's shared as much as he's comfortable sharing and then he wants to bundle his family back up again. It's painful to talk about Carol because he misses her and he promised her and she cried when he left and she is his soulmate. She's a little too precious and valuable to be spoken about by someone who hasn't even met her.

Alrighty now I need to go find some gifs for that song post.

#caryl #caryl is endgame #caryl positivity

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gomzdrawfr · 2 months

Note

Oh I miss Royal AU PriceRaven! Will Magpie also appear there in the future? What will happen to Price's Royal Status then? Or will Raven be promoted to queen?

aNON- god man Idk what to say for you to combine two aus together which somehow kicked me into another new au LMFAO

okay so. I made it sad- ((SORRY))

see the initial idea was that yada yada yada Raven somehow has royal blood so they get married and she's the queen and all, but then lately I was leaning towards more like King Price giving up his throne to be with her and live like commoners, perhaps then they'll have Magpie

Now imagine if that doesn't happen, cause well he's a king, it's not going to be easy, so....so if he were to be pushed into a political marriage and then have a kid.

Imagine what Royal Guard!Raven would feel, carrying his child that is not her own

she can't do anything but to accept the reality, and of course, how could she bring herself to loathe or hate a baby, when she bears Price's eyes.

okay pushing away the sad though, imagine if it's funny and Raven just decided to steal Price away anyways-

wHEEZE OKAY BUT THEN YOU TALKED ABOUT QUEEN RAVEN-

and that gave me....some ideas...((oh no))

I had ideas before of....Princess Raven, a veil princess...maybe King!Price visited her land....getting lost in the palace and then stumbled into her, thinking she was a royal servant initially with how modest and dark her clothings was....only to find out she's the Princess of that place and imMEDIATELY folds

"Marry me." "uhm- with all due respect-" "PLEASE" "????"

IMAGINE THE KISS- LIKE- BENEATH THE VEIL- I COULDNT DRAW IT ROMANTICALLY SO JUST HAVE THIS-

#anon i hope you know you've barelled me into another au FROM an au #like princess x king au #FUCK #this is giving me so much brainrot tho-#do you know the princess Ines Valeztena from the broken ring: this marriage will fail anyway isekai manga #bcuz that's exactly how im picturing Raven's aesthetic #like blue purple obsidian sort of vibes IDK MAN #i suck at character design as you can tell #gummmyart #doodle #ask response #thanks for the ask <3 #royal!au #priceraven #[oc]Raven #king!Price #royal guard!Raven

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xjustakay · 10 months

Text

(8/3) prompt: reputation — 690 words (assassin regulus + spy james; cw: brief presence/mention of a gun; part 2, part 3) @jegulus-microfic

As soon as he hears the scuff of someone approaching the meeting spot too early, Regulus has his gun in hand, leveled evenly at the person’s chest from a few feet away. James Potter looks unperturbed, if not amused, as he holds both hands up —yellow envelope tucked beneath one arm.

“Your reputation precedes you,” James comments.

Regulus sucks his teeth. “And what reputation might that be?”

“That you’re quick on the draw. A real no nonsense type.” Something like admiration glints in his eyes. “That you never miss the shots you take.”

Head tilting, Regulus drops his arm and tucks his gun back where it belongs. “Suppose it’s a good thing I didn’t take the shot then, isn’t it?”

James hums thoughtfully, hazel eyes unshy as they drag down and then up his body. “Nobody warned me you’d be gorgeous.”

Well. He’s not touching that with a ten foot pole.

“Shall we talk business?”

“Unless you’d rather talk pleasure.” James smirks, dangerously off topic. “Because I think I’m interested in that.”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Don’t make me point a gun at you again.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” James quips.

“Potter, do you have a fucking target for me or not?”

Dark brows lift over the top of his glasses in surprise. “You know my name.”

“Part of the job description.” Regulus shrugs.

A pinched expression, curiously scrutinizing, takes over his face as he eyes him. “I don’t know yours.”

“Yeah, that’s in the fine print.”

“Hardly seems fair.”

“Such is life.”

“We call you the Wraith at headquarters,” James tells him.

There’s a bitter taste on his tongue, at the back of his throat. He hates that this is who he’s become.

“Whatever Albus needs to feed you all.” Regulus circles a hand. “The target?”

“Right.” James is distracted looking at him for a moment before blinking with a jolt and handing over the envelope.

James likely doesn’t even know who’s on the inside of it. He’s merely a messenger, another piece on Albus Dumbledore’s chessboard, just like he is. Regulus will check the information later, follow his instructions accordingly. As usual.

In a weighted silence, he and James stare at one another. James’ unspoken questions are a phantom presence, standing there in the warehouse with them. He squints after a minute, moving a step nearer, and Regulus stiffens.

“You’re him, aren’t you? Sirius’ missing brother?”

The question takes Regulus so off guard, his mask slips for just a moment, grey eyes widening a fraction before he catches himself. James notices and nods once even as Regulus quickly schools his expression.

“You got the same intense look in your eyes that he gets on a mission,” James explains, warm gaze darting over his features. “There’s other things, too, but.. I’d recognize that anywhere.”

“You can’t tell him I’m alive,” Regulus says firmly.

“Oh, I know.” James nods, a strange initial sadness fading to make way for a faint grin. “I promise I got this job for a reason. I’m more than just a pretty face.”

“An easy mistake to make.” His lips twitch just barely, missable if not being looked for.

James gasps and presses a hand to his own chest. “So you think I’m pretty?”

“Goodbye, Potter.” He turns on his heel to leave.

“You can call me James, you know.”

Regulus slows to a pause, half-turns to look back at him. “James, then.”

“See you around, Regulus.” It’s murmured quietly behind him as he walks away; he might have missed it if it weren’t for actively paying attention to the sound of James’ movement.

There’s an uncertain promise in the few words, but more than that, hearing his name roll so smoothly off of James’ tongue punctures something deep in his chest. Because James knows it in the first place, which means he’s heard it before. Only so many people call him by name anymore; he’s a ghost, a shadow, more a memory than a person.

But James says his name like he’s more than that.

And, by fucking god, Regulus knows already that it’s going to be a big problem for him.

#jegulus #starchaser #regulus being called ‘the wraith’ is really doing something for me #they’re both so #-incoherent screeching-#will this turn into something bigger? who knows #the vibes are vibing #kay’s microfics #kay’s writing

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belovedspector · 4 months

Text

Double Jeopardy!

Pairing: Joel Miller x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: You met Joel at trivia night at a local bar. While watching old Jeopardy! reruns together, you realize Joel bears a striking resemblance to a certain game show host.

Content: No outbreak/modern AU. Fluff, use of pet names (darlin’), slightly insecure Joel

A/N: Just a silly little fic based on this silly little post I made. This got a little out of hand (it was literally just supposed to be one scene), but I had fun with it! Enjoy! :)

Masterlist

It’s been a hell of a week, and it’s only Tuesday. After a disastrous work day full of dumbasses and delays, Tommy insists on going to the bar, and it doesn’t take much convincing at all before Joel agrees.

The bar is crowded for the middle of the week, Joel thinks. Groups of people are gathered around nearly all the tables, and the stage is illuminated.

“Music tonight?” Joel asks the bartender after flagging her down.

“Trivia night,” she says, handing Joel and Tommy their beers.

The brothers manage to snag two bar stools next to one another, chatty idly about everything other than work.

After a few minutes, a man gets up on stage, and the game begins.

Joel has never been much for trivia. He’s not dumb by any means, but he’s also not one of those people who can name all the presidents in alphabetical order, or whatever. Still, he finds himself captivated by the game before him, watching just as intently as he would any football game.

You draw his attention early on, even from across the room. You’re the spokesperson for your team, and Joel can tell you know your stuff. It also doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes, even in your simple t-shirt and jeans. As Joel watches the game unfold, he can’t help but silently root for your team, and he’s pleased to see you and your teammates take home the (plastic) trophy.

You’re beaming as you head over to the bar for a refill, serendipitously ending up on Joel’s end of the bar.

Tommy elbows Joel in the ribs. Joel glares at him, but Tommy just gives him a look and gets up from his stool, wandering away to God knows where.

Joel clears his throat after you’ve ordered your drink. “You’re awful good at that,” he compliments.

You feel heat rushing to your cheeks, and you smile despite yourself. “I watch a lot of Jeopardy!” you say by way of explanation.

Joel considers this. He hasn’t thought about that show in years, didn’t even know it was still airing. “That Trebek guy still hosting?”

“Oh, no.” You shake your head with a slight frown. “He died, like, three years ago.”

You look almost sad about it, Joel thinks. He almost wants to apologize for your loss, but realizes how ridiculous that would sound. Instead, he asks, “Who’s hosting now, then?”

“Ken Jennings,” you answer, perking up again.

“Ken Jennings,” Joel repeats. “That sounds familiar.”

“Yeah, he had a seventy-four game winning streak in”—your eyes turn up towards the ceiling in thought and you scrunch your nose up in a way that Joel thinks is adorable—”2003, I think?”

“Ah, must’a heard about it on the news back then,” he says with a nod.

You nod alongside him. “Yeah, he does a really good job.” You pause to take a sip of your drink. “God, and don’t even get me started on the hosting debacle that happened after Alex’ death.”

Joel has no idea what you’re talking about, but he chuckles anyway. It’s been a while since he’s talked to anyone like this. Is this what flirting is like nowadays? Well, he supposes, it’s working on him—you’ve got him completely enamored with you and your little game show facts.

You and Joel end up closing down the bar together. It’s just the two of you and one slightly disgruntled bartender who has been dutifully cleaning all the tables around you. To be perfectly honest, Joel has no idea when Tommy had gone home; he’s been so wrapped up in you the whole night. Tommy will definitely give him shit about it the next time he sees him.

You had, in fact, gotten started on the Jeopardy! hosting drama at some point. There are a lot of names thrown around that Joel doesn’t recognize, but you’re so damn enthusiastic that he doesn’t have the heart to stop you.

Eventually, the discussion turns away from game shows. You talk to each other about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing as freely as the drinks.

All good things must come to an end, though.

“Alright, I’ve gotta close up now,” the bartender announces.

After a playful squabble over who will pay the tab (which Joel ends up covering), you reluctantly make your way out of the bar, the neon “open” sign going dark behind you.

Joel, being the gentleman that he is, offers to walk you home. You pick up right where you had left off at the bar, but, all too soon, you’ve reached your place.

“I had a really good time tonight,” you say with a smile, twirling your keys around your index finger.

“Yeah, me, too,” Joel agrees. “I don’t want to be too forward, and there’s no obligation, but is there any chance I can get your number?”

You beam at him. “I thought you’d never ask. Gimme your phone.”

Joel complies and watches as you add in your contact info and send a text to yourself.

He returns his phone to his pocket and says, “I might be pushing my luck here, but any chance you’d wanna go out to dinner one night?”

You smile again and nod enthusiastically. “I’d love that.”

“Alright,” Joel says, smiling back. “I’ll be in touch.”

He’s feeling bold. The alcohol is still coursing through his veins, giving him the push he needs to lean forward and kiss you on the cheek. He hopes he’s not imagining the way he feels your skin warm under his lips.

You giggle—an honest-to-God giggle. You’re going to be the death of him. “Good night, Joel,” you say.

“Good night, darlin’,” he returns, making sure you’re safely inside before heading back home, grinning like an idiot the whole way.

You go out to dinner that Friday.

“I’m missing Jeopardy! over this, you know,” you tell him while you scan the menu.

“Well, I’m honored,” Joel says with a laugh.

“I think it’ll be worth it,” you say with a broad smile.

Friday dinners become your thing. You usually meet at a restaurant, but, a few weeks in, Joel has an idea: he invites you over for takeout and Jeopardy! You seem thrilled at the prospect.

And so, he finds himself sitting next to you on the couch, a pizza box open on the coffee table in front of you. He’s got the TV tuned in to the right station, and it’s just a matter of minutes before the show will begin.

Just like on that trivia night, Joel finds himself totally wrapped up in the fast-paced game. He quickly learns that you like to shout out the answers, and he joins in when he can. It’s the most fun he’s had in a long time.

All too soon, it seems, half an hour has gone by, and the credits are rolling. Joel clicks the power button on the remote. The TV screen goes dark, and the living room falls silent.

“So?” you prompt. “What do you think of Ken?”

“Jennings ain’t bad,” Joel admits, “but he’s no Alex Trebek, that’s for sure.”

That Tuesday, you invite Joel to trivia night. You fall into an easy routine: trivia on Tuesdays, Jeopardy! on Fridays, date nights every other weekend. For the first time in a long time, Joel feels content.

“They have old episodes that you can stream, you know,” you say one night after the show ends.

It’s been a couple of months, and things are going quite well, if Joel does say so himself. You’ve met Tommy and Sarah, and they’ve both given their stamp of approval.

“That so?” Joel asks, tightening the arm he has around your shoulder.

“Yeah. I can set it up, if you’re not all Jeopardy!’d out for the night.”

“Pfft, never,” he says.

You grin, grabbing the remote and navigating to Pluto, picking an episode at random. A younger, mustachioed Alex Trebek fills the screen.

As the episode plays, you’re still answering clues like normal, but you also keep sneaking glances at Joel throughout the game.

Finally, during the Double Jeopardy round, he pauses the show. “Okay, what is it?”

“What do you mean?” you ask a little sheepishly.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” He runs a hand across the scruff on his cheek. “Do I have something on my face?”

You laugh. “No, nothing like that. It’s just…” You hesitate.

“Yeah?” he urges.

You cut your eyes between Alex on screen and Joel on the couch. “You look kinda like Alex Trebek,” you blurt out.

Joel is stunned into silence for a moment. He studies the man on the TV, with his graying hair and mustache. He’s not a bad looking man, but—

“Are you sure?” he asks. He feels almost shy all of a sudden. He knows he’s getting older; his hair is more gray than brown, and the lines on his face have gotten deeper. But, still, does that mean he’s old? Getting compared to an old, now-dead game show host has brought all of his anxieties about aging to the front of his mind.

You nod. “Positive,” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts before they can spiral any further. You grin. “I’ve always had a thing for him, you know.”

“W—Who?” Joel stutters, not sure he’s heard you right.

“Alex Trebek,” you clarify, your grin widening.

Joel hums. “That so, darlin’?” he asks mildly, but he’s not quite able to keep the smirk off his face. “What do you think—should I get rid of the beard, just keep the mustache?”

You slap his shoulder lightly. “Shut up,” you mutter. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

He breaks out into a wide grin and leans in to steal a kiss. “You know I’m kidding, darlin’.” He looks to the TV screen again, and then he turns back to you, eyes softening. “I could do a lot worse than Trebek, I s’pose.”

“It’s a compliment!” you insist.

“I know, I know,” he says, kissing you again. “God, I love you.”

The words slip out without him even realizing. It’s not until he sees your eyes widen a little that he comprehends the weight of what he’s just said. Fuck. He’s gone and fucked this whole thing up, hasn’t he? Can he…take it back? But he doesn’t want to. It’s true, he realizes—he really does love you.

“I love you, too,” you say breathlessly, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

Joel breathes a sigh of relief as he hugs you. He takes another glance at the TV from over your shoulder, where the still image of Alex Trebek stares back at him. Joel must be imagining it, but…it almost looks like Trebek is winking at him.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! :)

#the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #x reader #jace writes #can you tell i have many thoughts about jeopardy lmao

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