#beating me being sad all the time with a HAMMER

[elegyofthemoon]

😊 day one of being back home and everythings already so nice. i know i already started doing some work to prepare for a new life like applying for jobs and all that, but i also started doing work for something that i really want to pursue and its making me feel so giddy,,, i really hope it goes well but it wont happen till end of may

i'm a little wary about may since... all the stuff that happened last may so i feel like ill be very antsy this upcoming may BUT i have things to look forward to! we just gotta flush out the bad stuff with new good ones :] like hsr anniversary and this course coming up

spring brings new beginnings. im trying very hard to make mine

#avil speaks #im happy and excited #but i woke up in a very good mood today which is. such a shock i havent felt this way in forever lksadjhfalskjha #so this feels really nice #AND IT DIDNT TAKE ME FOREVER TO GET OUT OF BED THIS TIME ...... #i was just really excited for my day to start skdfhaklsjhlkh #garbage year last year so me going through this year will be very 😰as i think about things that happened last year #BUT !!! we have to keep fighting to make things brighter #or else what else can we do #beating me being sad all the time with a HAMMER

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Simon x gn!reader

Read the Modern Warfare: Ghost comics yesterday and they poked my brain in some spots. They inspired this, because yes Simon sexy; big man makes brain go brrr but what if Simon says no?

Warnings: heated make out session, not proofread and it's late so it sucks

Simon moans under you as you kiss him, the sound making your body ache with need. It echoes in your ribcage making your heart flutter and frantically beat against your ribs, trying to get to Simon.

Your bodies are pressed against each other and you already feel lightheaded when you haven't even taken your clothes off.

But Simon is shirtless and all that skin under your hands drives you insane while you're making out. Tongues lazily intertwining, rubbing together, creating that delicious friction that makes you pant.

Simons pupils are blown wide as he looks up at you on his lap. You can feel how affected he is by you as well and it increases your desire tenfold.

You think you'll go crazy if you don't get the clothes separating you two out of the way. Your entire body is calling out to the man under you and you need to do something about it before you lose your mind.

Slowly you move your hand over his pecs, dipping your head to follow that path with your lips and tongue, marking his skin while you're at it.

Simon makes a sound that's half a whimper, half a moan and it makes you bite down on his pec which in turn gets an actual whimper out of him.

You look up at him and he's thrown his head back, watching you through almost closed eyes, burning you with his desire.

His chest is heaving and his harsh pants of air are actually audible. You have never seen him so wrecked before and you can't wait to ruin him when he moans your name. And your hips twitch in response.

Th reaction only seems to fuel his desire more and he bites his lip trying to stifle the sounds he's making.

Your hand continues its path down his tummy towards his pants where your reward awaits. Your heart speeds up as you get to his waistband.

It's such a tiny moment you would have missed it if you were less aware of every single movement of Simon.

Just for a second he goes stiff and then relaxes again.

Your hand stills. Your eyes trail up from his crotch again to meet his eyes. There's a tightness around his mouth that doesn't sit well with you.

He's the picture of relaxation, but it's not real anymore. His eyes are wide open, you can see the muscles in his arms flex, even as he keeps them down, seemingly open and relaxed.

You sit back on his thighs, ceasing all other movement.

"Tell me, baby.", you gently encourage.

Simon shakily exhales, puts his hand over yours, that's still sitting just over his waistband and moves your hand back up to his chest.

You can feel his heart hammering under your palm and it doesn't feel like desire anymore. It feels like a hectic little animal being chased. It feels like anxiety and slight panic.

He stays quiet, not moving a muscle and you match him, gently stroking your thumb over his skin, scooting closer again, so you're not half bent over from where you tried to get to his zipper.

"I don't... I'm sorry, 'luv.", he whispers roughly and you smile. A sad smile but it's gentle and you can feel Simons heart slow down under your palm at your smile.

"It's okay. No need to apologize."

His other hand finds your neck and he draws you in until your foreheads touch and you can feel his shaky breath on your lips.

One of your hands mimics his, while the other one stays on his chest, his skin warm and scarred against yours.

Gently you squeeze the back of his neck. "We're okay." You whisper and you can feel him finally relax again.

You know there's so much he probably feels like saying but as he so often does he lets the silence speak for him.

Luckily you've gotten fluent in Simon's silence over the time.

"I don't care, baby. I only care about you being here with me. My needs can be taken care of in other ways. We don't need that to be close. We've got our own ways."

Instead of answering, he kisses you again and you arch your back so all of you is pressed to him.

It has nothing of the desperation of earlier even if the heat is still simmering deep in your belly.

It's all comfort and closeness now.

He cups your face, as if you're the most precious thing he's ever held and you smile into the kiss.

"How can you be so... so... good?", he asks. If you didn't know him as well as you did you would have missed the way his voice sounds slightly choked up.

"I love you.", is your simple answer and he shakes his head.

"I don't get it. Why are you not sick o' me? Why haven't ya found someone who can do normal shit."

You smile, peck his lips and try to pull back, which turns into him holding you close and deepening the kiss before you attempt to pull back again. He doesn't let you and you grin into the kiss. Finally he lets you go, both of you laughing quietly.

"I will never be sick of you. I don't need anything but you. And you are enough, exactly as you are, right now in this moment. You've always been enough."

You can see his eyes widen as your words hit him, his hands find your hips and hike you up a bit more and then he hides his face in your chest, his arms around you, chrushing you to him

If the way his fingers dig into your skin is slightly painful you don't comment on it. You bring your arms up and hold him just as tightly.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod simon x reader #gn!reader #simon x gn!reader #consent is sexy #little something in between while I'm working on the angst

[laurbiek]

as promised... something!

....::::**•°✾°•**::::........::::**•°✾°•**::::.... ....::::**•°✾°•**::::....

She hears the distinctive sound of the WhatsApp video call. Its weird when they're in different countries, the mode of communication changes time and time again to avoid crazy roaming charges. She's used to being able to call him quick using the regular phone app, to see if he wanted her to pick up dinner or to ask him nicely if he would switch her laundry out for her.

It's weird to start over on another app, it almost feels like they're starting another relationship. It feels so different. The inside jokes and frequent questions about the HBO password are nowhere to be found, in it's place is an empty blank page, waiting hopefully to be filled with the same.

She picks up her phone from the edge of the bed and swipes to answer the call. She looks at the time when she does, 10:04, almost five minutes late for their scheduled call.

At least that has stayed the same.

The slight hum of the highway plays in the background, and there Andrew sits. He looks tired, but not over consumed. It's a good kind of tired, like the kind you get after a good, but long day. More of a content-tired. His hair is in the messiest bun possible, obvious that he needed it out of the way and had lost all ability to care. He's got his glasses on, and Y/N remembers when he Facetimed her from the eye doctor to see if they looked good before he ordered them.

She internally thinks that they still do.

"Hey love", he finally speaks between bites of a sandwich. She looks down at the table the phone is propped on, and sees the distinctive red and white wrappings.

"Are you kidding, you went to Wawa without me..."

"I'm sorry! The band voted before we left Philly! I told them you'd be mad but they don't seem to care about my marriage so... I had to"

"This is a betrayal, of the highest degree. I can't picture a world where I can forgive you"

"If I could ship one across the Atlantic to you, you know I would"

There is a few beats of silence, they both know that statement means more than just a sandwich.

She finally breaks,

"How are you holding up?"

"Eh, not bad. I've not been this tired in a while but I'll get used to it soon. I've done it before."

"It's quiet in the bus, where is everyone else?"

"Sleeping"

"So everyone else is sleeping and you stayed up to call me?

He takes another bite of his sandwich before answering simply,

"Yeah."

She stares at him through the phone as he keeps eating like he doesn't understand the niceness of his actions, it's just second nature to him.

"Thank you," she says, voice full of genuine earnestness.

He doesn't respond to that, instead, he switches to another topic. He doesn't feel like he needs thanks for his actions, he would rather thank her for being around to call him.

"How are you at home, everything good?"

"Yeah, there was a dead bird in the yard yesterday, Elwood found it while we were playing, he almost picked it up but I got to him before he did. That's honestly the most exciting thing that's happened here since you left."

"But that's the joy of the country isn't it, that nothing ever happens?"

"Yeah. But I would rather do nothing with you than do nothing alone"

There's a long stretch of silence between them before Andy notices a tear fall down Y/N's cheek. There are no other signs of her sadness, no shaking shoulders or audible sounds. Just a few gentle tears that he would've missed if he wasn't so utterly enraptured by her face on the five-inch screen. His heart breaks.

"Hey hey, it's ok love, it's just a bit longer. I'll be home for a break in a few weeks. "

"I know. It's just really hard."

He doesn't know what to say to that at first. He wants to hammer on about how she knew what she was getting into, and this was an inevitability. But he knew she knew that. Him repeating it isn't going to make either of them feel any better. The next part of him yearned to just get on a plane and be at home, but that wasn't fair to anyone. Not his bandmates, not the concertgoers, and not Andy who loved what he did more than anything.

All he could say was

"I know."

You imagine the separation being hard but no one really prepares you for it. You can't prepare for it. It's the pain of losing a routine and a lover all at once. It's the frustration of needing help, of needing someone to take something off your plate and having someone willing to, but that someone is 1000 miles away. Literally.

She's crying a little harder now, still silent, with the tears increasing in frequency and size. He says again,

"I know. I know how hard it is cause I feel it too. You know what I miss the most right now?"

"What?"

"I miss the things that you do that piss me off. The annoying stuff. I miss how you always steal bites of my food."

She can't help but laugh at that. He keeps talking,

"I miss how cold your feet are and how you're always trying to shove them under me to warm them. And how often you leave dirty clothes on the floor."

She joins in this time,

"I miss your hair clogging the shower drain. And how you use every possible dish when you cook."

"See, doesn't it hurt a little less knowing that you don't have to unclog the shower for a while?"

"Yeah, and I'm sure you sleep easier without my cold feet poking you."

Theres another small pause, but this one is not as sad as the rest of them. This one feels like two people comfortable with each other, just basking in the silence, feeling no pressure.

"It sucks love, it really does. But it gets easier. And there are less shitty days. And it's not for forever."

"Ok, it's shitty, but I've felt shittier. And it's not for forever."

"Yeah."

"OK," she says, wiping her eyes a bit to try to show a bit of a braver face, "this is getting kind of bummer-ish, talk to me a bit about tour stuff"

For the rest of the call, he prattled on about various events and hijinks at his shows, on the road, and in between. About halfway through the story, he realized that she had fallen asleep and for some reason, he finished the story before hanging up. Possibly hoping that she would wake back up, but mostly enjoying the domestic feeling of talking to her. He eventually hung up, settling with the fact that she was indeed asleep for real. A few hours and a timezone later after he woke up from his own nap, he noticed a WhatsApp message again,

I forgot the HBO password again...

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier fanfic #hozier imagine #hozier x reader

[thedovesaredying]

Monsters in the Dark | Nikto x Reader | Part 2

Second chapter of the Cowboy!Nikto AU. Written from the POV of Nikto this time. A reminder once again that there's a prologue and "part 1" is only the first full chapter. The original cowboy AU is owned and created by @ghouljams.

A/N: I'm a day late on my estimation for when it would be done, but life decided to get me sick, busy with uni work, and put one of my legs completely out of action. I also realized about 3 husbandry manuals deep into my research that the chapter would be a bit too long if I included that much information. Instead, the info will be sprinkled in among the next few chapters.

Warnings: Sputnik being a silly girl.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

First | Prev | Next

The weather is downright miserable. While one might assume the worst weather would be torrential rain or unforgiving hail, Nikto is firmly of the belief that there’s nothing worse than a hot, sunny day. It’s hard enough to be constantly covered from head to toe, but to then add on the Texan sun beating down at its full strength? He’s certain he’ll be nothing more than a puddle of sweat by the end of the day.  

At least Sputnik seems to be enjoying the disgusting temperatures. She’s running around the front of the property, completely unfazed by the heat. She welcomes it, in fact, using it as the perfect excuse to paddle into the large dam for a cool swim at the day’s warmest.  

Her paws are caked with mud and grass, so much to her sadness she’s been barred from entering the house, forced to wait until she’s dried off and all the muck has fallen off of her paws. If she’s still dirty by the end of the day then a quick hosing down will be in order, but she’ll likely consider that a fun game too.  

For now, she’s content to lay stretched out on the porch, her side rapidly rising and falling as she pants.  

The weather isn’t the only thing that’s miserable, however. Nikto’s mood has been foul ever since his forced trip into town for new supplies. A certain hyena had decided that she was bored while her owner was away and had decided to chew a rather large hole in the wall of the shed.  

The hole was easily large enough for her to climb through and so, after having already spent most of the day hard at work, Nikto was forced to leave for the only hardware store in town. Some new planks of wood and a hammer not riddled with rust later, and he’s reminded of the invoice he received the vet clinic a few days prior and has also yet to pay for.  

He’s not quite sure what possessed him to go to the clinic in person, but he was disappointed regardless with what greeted him. The receptionist was painfully cheery and seemed determined to dig into his business with her endless questions. He’d left feeling completely drained from only a single conversation with the woman. You hadn’t been there. He can’t fathom why that annoys him so much.  

The hole in the shed was simple enough to fix, even under the intensity of the sweltering heat, but the issue of Sputnik remains.  

Clearly, he can’t leave her unattended for several hours at a time just for work. She’s never had to entertain herself in such an environment and clearly, it’s stressing her out being without her only packmate. She requires both social interaction and physical activity, but above all of that, needs mental stimulation.  

Like a toddler left without a guardian, Sputnik has decided that she can tear apart the house and garden while unattended. Plants have been torn out of the ground, wooden structures gnawed to bits, and most concerningly, large holes dug along the fence line.  

The situation is far from ideal, but Nikto does not abandon his own. He isn’t like those bastards at the CIA who are willing to leave those loyal to them knowing full well they will perish without help. He made that decision a long time ago, and Sputnik’s very name is a tribute to that.  

It was only three years ago, but it felt like eons. It started with a small enemy group hidden deep within the South African wilderness who were utilising spotted hyenas as guard animals. Nikto and his team had cut through the animals both outside and inside the building, even the ones hidden away in the basement below. 

In the end, only a single cub remained; a tiny girl still nestled up against the steadily cooling body of her mother. She couldn’t have been more than a week or two of age, bright eyed as all hyena newborns are, and covered in scraggly fur.  

The other men on the team planned on putting the animal out of her misery, but the sight gave Nikto pause. She was small and defenceless, and abandoned by her cowardly handlers to be killed by their enemy. It was a story he couldn’t help but find familiar. Picking up the infant, she snuggles into his vest, completely trusting of him despite not having known him for more than a few seconds.  

She whines and licks at him as he tucks her into his shirt, safe and warm pressed up against scarred skin. No one says a word, when he leaves the compound with the cub and boards the waiting helicopter for the trip back to base.  

His first thought was to name her Laika, but that name seemed a little too common for his taste, and so he chose Sputnik, the name of Laika’s space capsule and eventual tomb. A tribute to yet another stray who was left behind by those who should have protected her.  

Sputnik would not suffer the same fate; she would never be disregarded like a broken toy thrown into the trash. She’s good, she’s loyal, she trusts Nikto unconditionally. Destroying a bit of property would never be a reason to break that trust.  

Instead, he presses dial on your number and holds his phone to his ear. He’s been thinking it over for several minutes, finger hovering over the button with your contact listed, before forcing himself to press it. For a long while it rings and he’s about to give up when you finally answer with a bright greeting to whoever is on the other side.  

He grunts out your name, listening as you happily chirp his own back at him in return. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask. He can hear the soft rumbling of a car’s engine in the background and can only assume you’re driving somewhere.  

“I require... assistance,” he says after a long pause, letting the conversation drift into silence. While it isn’t necessarily help he’s asking for, it still rankles deeply that he isn’t solving the issue alone. He despises being indebted to anyone for anything, but for some reason he doesn’t get the feeling you’re out to acquire favours from anyone. You’re a professional merely doing what you’re trained for and nothing more. He can admire that.  

“What can I help you with? Is Sputnik alright?” You sound so genuinely concerned about her, so much so that it sounds like you almost drop your phone.  

He glances down at the hyena laying happily at his feet, panting up at him with a broad grin. “She is fine,” he confirms, catching the relieved sigh you let out, “it is behavioural issues she is dealing with.”  

You make a soft sound, clearly intrigued, “well, I’m on the road at the moment heading toward my next appointment, but I should have time to drop in to your place in a few hours. Will you be around then?”  

“да,” he hums, “we will be here.”  

“Perfect! I’ll be there in a few,” you confirm, and after offering an acknowledging grunt, he ends the call.  

He goes to pocket the phone but pauses, glancing at your number. Mulling it over for a good long while, he selects the number and adds it to his contacts. There’s only two other people there, one of them his current workplace and the other one of his old acquaintances from before even his time in KorTac.  

A rather dramatic huff from Sputnik draws his attention from staring at his phone, and he watches her with hidden amusement as she rolls over onto her stomach. She looks up at him with big, sad eyes and a pathetic whine. When he merely rolls his eyes at her she playfully snaps her teeth in his direction.  

“Я не знал, что ты такая королева драмы,” he growls back, curling the undamaged part of his lip at her.  

The hyena, fortunately, can tell he’s still joking despite his deadpan tone and leaps to her feet with a delighted cackle. She shakes out her coat, biting at the air. The moment he so much as twitches a finger in her direction she turns and leaps off the top of the deck, forgoing the stairs so she can sprint across the yard.  

Nikto stands from his chair but doesn’t give chase, watching as the crazy animal spins around in circles before darting off toward the dam again. She dives into the water with a splash, sending muddy water in all directions. He cringes slightly at the sight of the hyena now dripping with muck. At least he was already planning on hosing her down. The rest of the afternoon passes slowly, with Nikto taking some time to rest while Sputnik causes minimal trouble.  

When your car finally does pull up, the poor girl has exhausted herself again, laying in a pile of leaves while she happily naps away. The moment her flicking ears pick up the sound of your truck on the gravel she jumps up again, eyes wide as she takes in the familiar sight. She’s already giggling to herself with excitement, looking between Nikto and your vehicle.  

“место!” Nikto calls, ignoring the sad whimper that earns. He approaches when you pull up, patiently waiting as you drop out of the front seat and close the door behind you.  

When you spot him, you offer a wave and grin, “hey, Nikto!” You take a moment to glance over at Sputnik and he can see her near enough vibrating with how excited she is to come over and greet you out of the corner of her eye. “How’ve you been doing?” you stop just before him, looking him right in the eye, completely unfazed by the monster you’re facing down.  

“We are fine,” he says, perhaps a little too firmly given the way you blink at him, “we require some assistance with behavioural issues.” He quickly amends his statement in the hopes of not immediately scaring you off.  

Fortunately, you’re quick to bounce back, a smile returning to your face, “of course, what sorts of problems are you experiencing?”  

“Спутник!” The hyena’s head shoots up upon hearing her name, “ко мне!” She sprints across the grass, very nearly crashing into his legs with her enthusiasm to heed her owner’s command. “She is getting bored when left alone,” he explains, watching as you reach your hand out for the hyena, “eating walls, digging holes, breaking everything she can reach.”  

Sputnik snuffles at your hand, before whining and immediately shifting to lean up against you, demanding pets. You scratch behind her neck and Sputnik’s tongue lolls out of her mouth in delight. “I’m sure we can work something out to help prevent her from damaging anything else or accidentally eating something she shouldn’t be.”  

“She struggles when left alone, especially during work hours,” he adds on, turning and starting to stalk toward the side of the house where the majority of the damage can be seen.  

“Okay, well she sounds like she just needs some enrichment to keep her occupied while you’re away,” you nod to yourself as you follow Nikto around to the side of the house. Several of the small plants that had been happily growing in little spots around the yard have been either pulled from the soil or completely shredded if they couldn’t be moved.  

You look at the scattered remains of the poor shed’s wall, but don’t look entirely surprised by the backyard warzone you’ve stepped into. You frown down at Sputnik, scratching her between the ears, “what a silly girl,” you coo, rubbing at her ears as the hyena grins up at you with half-lidded eyes, “you shouldn’t be eating all this stuff, it’ll make your tummy sore!” 

Somehow, your baby-talk voice just serves to make Sputnik even giddier, and she eagerly licks at the tips of your fingers. Nikto almost rolls his eyes at the little heart eyes the animal is subjecting you to. It’s impressive, really, how she can remember someone is a friend from only a single interaction.  

When you snap back from your babying of the animal, you quickly refocus. “Hyenas have very powerful jaws, and they love to chew things, so if she doesn’t have enough to keep her entertained then she’ll find something to destroy.”  

“She was given an old tyre a few weeks ago, but it only lasted a few days.” To say he was deeply unimpressed with how quickly she’d torn it to pieces would be an understatement. He knew that Sputnik had quite the bite on her, but to chomp through nine millimetres of rubber like it’s cardboard? Impressive, if a little annoying.  

“How big is your freezer?” you abruptly ask him, and Nikto suddenly worries where this line of questioning is going. Does he need to check the trunk of your car? Regardless, he offers you a nod.  

“Perfect!” You clap your hands together, making Sputnik jump excitedly at the sudden sound, “it’s supposed to be quite hot tomorrow, so I can think of at least one idea for her.” You start listing out what the two of you are going to do rapid-fire with the same confidence and efficiency of any commanding officer.  

You’re in your element, your passion for your work clear as day and you have him following your every instruction. You’re like a fount of knowledge when it comes to anything and everything husbandry related, suggesting changes to Sputnik’s diet, new toys to keep her entertained, and ways to prevent her from destroying anything she really shouldn’t be messing with.  

When you finally end up leaving, it’s long past sundown. Sputnik has grown bored of watching the two of you working in the shed and has retired to her massive dog bed for a nap, so the two of you have been working in comfortable silence. He’s glad you don’t feel the need to fill the air with irritating chatter, only offering corrections here and there.  

He escorts you to back to your truck, closing your door behind you once you’re settled comfortably into the driver’s seat. You roll down the window and offer him a grin, but he can see just how tired you are given how your eyes are slightly drooped. “How much do we owe?” he asks, quickly tearing his gaze from your sweet smile.  

Little wrinkles appear across your forehead as your lips turn downward, an innocent, confused look on your face, “owe you?” 

He resists the urge to roll his eyes and instead just huffs in mild amusement, “payment, for your work.” 

Your eyes light up in understanding and you laugh, “oh, no, don’t worry about that,” you wave him off, “I’m just happy to help out.” You just smile up at him, as if you can’t see anything wrong with what you just said.  

Nikto is forced to remind himself that you’re a civilian, not another untrustworthy operator. Not everyone does things purely for the pay they’ll be rewarded with, even if the very thought of not giving you something in return makes him uncomfortable. He holds his hand out to you, “phone.”  

You blink at him for a second, but quickly do as you’re told, just like the good girl you are. He goes into your contacts and adds his number and details, hitting save the moment he’s done. He doesn’t bother adding a picture, passing your phone back to you, “call us when you require assistance.” He waits until you offer him a nod before he steps back from the side of the car.  

You have an odd, flustered look on your face for some reason, but you’re quick to snap out of whatever daze you're in and give him a quick wave as you put your truck into reverse. He watches silently as you disappear back down the driveway and into the steadily darkening evening, waiting until you’re out of sight.  

Sputnik is absolutely delighted the following morning when Nikto presents her with her blood and peanut butter ice block.

-

Translations

“да,” - “Yes” 

“Я не знал, что ты такая королева драмы,” - “I didn't know you were such a drama queen,”  

“место!” - “Stay!” 

“Спутник!” - “Sputnik!” 

“ко мне!” - “Come!”  

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #reader insert #call of duty nikto #cowboy au #nikto x reader #fanfic

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

All for me?

    >AFAB! Gender-neutral! Reader, virgin!reader, shy!reader, neurodivergent coded!reader, Diavolo being an ass, corruption kink, deflowering, mutual masturbation, vaginal penetration, romantic sex, dirty talk, mentions of tickling, demon form, size kink, oral, squirting, unsafe sex (condoms are great you should use them xoxo), soft!Diavolo, horns make great handle bars, fingering, finger sucking

  Your relationship with Diavolo was a slow one. You had only started daring near the end of your first year at RAD and now, in your second year, people could hardly tell that you two were dating. You were always the shy one, never really wanting to rock the boat, but the Devildom had made you slightly more confident. But still, you were never really confident in the relationship department. You'd never really dated anyone for this long, it was usually a short fling with a couple of dates then nothing. You remember never really being the most desirable person when you were in high school so relationships came second to everything else in your life. It felt strange, really, having Diavolo dote over you. He'd rarely do so in public, royal image and all that, but in private the way he'd hold you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear made you antsy.

        Diavolo never got to hold you for long, your skin would feel overwhelmingly tingly and hot from his touch. It was as if bugs made from hot irons were crawling all over your skin. You couldn't tell if it was a good or bad feeling but you did know that it was a strange and new sensation that made you want to run away. It was kind of difficult, Diavolo always wanted to hold you with your legs draped across his and your head on his chest but it almost burned to be held like that. The sadness was evident on Diavolo's face when you'd move off of his lap to instead sit next to him with his arm draped across your shoulder. The tingling sensation never went away but was lessened when you did that.

         As time went on, you noticed how much touchier Diavolo was being. His hands slid from your shoulders to your waist, his touch lingered longer, and he spoke in a lower more quiet voice so you'd lean into him. It made your body light up like a house on fire but the burning sensation still remained. This sort of love made you feel like you were wrapped in comfort but also like you needed to throw up at any second. When Diavolo was courting you, he flooded you with gifts. You felt honored to receive such attention from the Prince but also guilty from how much attention and money he was wasting on you.

        "I'm not wasting anything if it's spent on you," Diavolo had told you one day over tea when you brought it up, "but if you wish for me to stop spoiling you then I will." The sadness was evident on his face. Still, he found different ways to show his affection. It was honestly amazing how dense you were at how strong he was coming on. You thought he just wanted to make the human feel comfortable but it wasn't until you spoke to Solomon that you realized he wasn't doing the same for the other exchange students. It took Solomon to beat you over the head with a hammer, figuratively speaking, for you to realize that the Prince was in love with you.

        Your life kind of became a fairy tale. The Prince falling in love with the commoner and spoiling them with riches and attention like straight from the pages of the Grimm Brothers. Yet, you could tell that Diavolo was getting antsy. Your quiet and reserved demeanor seemed to stir something up in him. It all led to you spending the night at his castle one time. Diavolo did his best to exemplify the mood of the room with wine and chocolates and soft music but you didn't seem affected.

        "Darling," Diavolo placed his wine glass down onto the ornate coffee table next to yours. You looked up at the prince through the top of your eyelids while your head rested against his shoulder. "Are you happy?" He carefully moved his arm to wrap around your waist so your head would rest against his broad chest. The bugs returned and crawled up and down your skin with their molten feet. "Yes," you replied, "why wouldn't I be?" Diavolo hummed, pleased at your words. "I just wanted to make sure." His fingers stroked up and down your sides making you squirm at the ticklish sensation. "Hm?" Diavolo looked down at you and how you seemed to wiggle away from his stroking, "is my little human ticklish?"

        That was a loaded question. No matter how you responded you were going to get tickled. Your brain turned its gears trying to come up with an answer that could save your mortal soul from being tickled but you took too long and Diavolo went ahead and danced his fingers up your sides anyway. You jerked with laughter as your body slowly drifted off of the couch and slumped onto the floor to escape his dangerous fingers. Joy was spread across Diavolo's face at your reaction. You pouted with your head resting on your lover's knee, your cheek squished against the bone. "Sweet little thing," Diavolo chuckled, "I wonder what other secrets you're keeping from me." You leaned your head back to look at Diavolo. His heart was hammering in his chest with how innocent your looked for him. "I hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries," Diavolo's hand came to stroke your cheek, "but are you a virgin perhaps?"

        Heat ran through your veins at his question. You were but you didn't know how to answer his question without feeling like a loser. Here you were, an adult virgin. "You don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable," Diavolo's face softened, "but just know that I do desire you in such a manner." You could feel a lump of heat swell in your chest at his words.

        "You do?"

        "Of course," there was a purr in Diavolo's voice, "I only wish to bring you pleasure like none you've experienced before."

        You shivered at his words. "Well," you averted your gaze in embarrassment at what you were about to admit, "I've never, uhm, experienced pleasure like that before." Diavolo tried to keep the sly grin from creeping onto his face. He knew it, he could smell your virginity on your like a bouquet of roses. "You've never even touched yourself," Diavolo's voice took on a sultry tone, "not even down there?" You felt like your face was glowing with heat, "what-what do you mean?" You knew exactly what he meant but you couldn't believe what he was asking. "I mean," Diavolo guided you back up to the sofa so you were kneeling next to him on the fine cushions with your chin in his grip, "have you ever masturbated before?" You almost choked on your own spit trying to come up with an answer. "Y-yeash," you tried to say 'yes' and 'yeah' at the same time, "yes. I have. I mean, who hasn't?"

        "You've what?" Diavolo couldn't hide his teasing smile any longer. You pouted at how he was acting. "Now you're just teasing me." You tried to move away from Diavolo but a hefty hand took your in a firm grip, "I'm sorry, my love." Diavolo smiled with furrowed eyebrows, "you just looked so cute flustered like that. I promise I wasn't trying to be mean." You squeezed Diavolo's hand, "it just felt like you were making fun of me." Diavolo's face turned into one of concern, "oh darling! I promise I wasn't trying to be malicious!" He took your face in his hand, "I'm sorry for making you feel that way. It wasn't my intention." You pressed your face into his hand, the bugs continued to crawl all over you but it wasn't a bad feeling you realized.

        "My dear," Diavolo started staring into your eyes. His gaze burned but you tried not to look away. "I have to admit I had ulterior motives for inviting you over tonight." Your eyes scanned over his face in worry, what was he going to do? "I wish to have you," there was nothing but the upmost love in his eyes, "I want you to be writhing underneath me in pleasure. I want to bring you to peaks of ecstasy you never thought possible." You could feel your legs giving out at his words. You gripped the back of the sofa to steady yourself. "Me?" you asked. Diavolo tried not laugh at how cute the question was, "yes, my love, you." You couldn't hold back the whine of need that fluttered out of your throat. Diavolo's horns poked through his skin as his demon form overtook him from the sound of your needy whine. Your eyes widened in shock as you fell back against the sofa. Diavolo reached a hand out to stroke at your face, "I'm sorry, MC. You just do these things to me. I can hardly control myself when I'm around you." The nervousness began to rise throughout your body when you noticed the bulge beginning to make itself prominent behind the white piece of fabric over Diavolo's crotch.

        "We won't go any further if you don't want to," Diavolo said doing his best to control himself, "it's up to you." You nodded taking a large gulp of your own nervous saliva. "I think I'm ready," you said with your eyes never leaving the large bulge your lover held between his thighs. "You think or you know you are ready?" His eyes held a serious gaze that made you melt. He really did care about your well being. Diavolo would never go forward with any part of the relationship without you first giving your approval. You nodded, "I'm ready. But-" You tried to find your words under your lover's intense stare, "can we go to your bedroom first?" Diavolo hummed stroking the soft skin of your cheek, "of course, my dearest." Diavolo stood up, his impressive wings folded behind him while he held out a hand for you to take. You placed your own hand in his palm and he couldn't help but marvel at how small your hand looked in his mighty grip. Diavolo gingerly helped you off the couch, making sure your legs were steady enough to carry you before taking off in the direction of his bedroom.

        "My dear," Diavolo hummed pulling you closer so he could wrap his arm around your waist, "you said that you touch yourself. Might I ask how often and to what?" You groaned at his question, "that's so embarrassing!" "I just want to know so I can best please you. You don't have to answer if you don't want to." You huffed, your boyfriend was going to see all of you before you know it so why is this such an embarrassing question? "I, uhm, I don't know," you looked away from your boyfriend trying to keep your cool, "I don't really keep track." Diavolo hummed holding you closer as you both turned the corner down the hallway to his room, "and do you indulge in porn?" You held your mouth in your hand trying to find your words, "sometimes."

        Diavolo took a hold of the ornate door knob before swinging the door open and ushering you inside his luxurious room. The fourposter bed was like something out of your most extravagant dreams carved with images of dragons and monsters and adorned in silk. "Only sometimes?" Diavolo closed the door behind him, "and what do you think about when you don't watch porn?" You felt like a frying pan just hit you in the back of your head. You're now going to have to admit that you've touched yourself and orgasmed to the thought of the very demon you were about to make love to. "You," you said in your quietest voice. Diavolo smiled wickedly, "I'm sorry dear, I didn't hear you." You tried to force your voice to be louder, "you!" A chill ran through your body when you heard Diavolo swear under his breath. "I need you MC," Diavolo came up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, "I need your body to be mine." You couldn't help but rub your rear against the prominent bulge that was bumping up against you.

        Diavolo let out a low groan and held onto your hips. He started rocking his clothed cock against your clothed ass. Goosebumps rose on your skin at the way Diavolo moaned into your ear. "Would you take off those cursèd pants, my love?" Shyness overtook you once more at the thought of being naked in front of Diavolo. Humans were nowhere near as impressive as demons in their form. You wonder if he'd become disgusted with your body and change his mind.

         "My love?"

        Diavolo stopped grinding against you. He held your chin in his hand and pulled your head back so you would look at him.         "Are you okay? Do you need to stop?"

        "I just don't-" You didn't know how to explain yourself.

        "You don't want to continue?"

        "No! I do but I don't know how you'll-"

        "How I'll what?"

        "What you'll think of my body."

        Diavolo turned you around so he could better look at you. He held your face in both of his hands which managed to run the length of your head. "My sweet darling,"concern pooled in his eyes, "I love your body."

        "But you've never seen it."

        "I'm seeing it right now. Clothed or unclothed, I love your body. I love your body because it holds you and everything you are."

        Tears pooled in your eyes at how genuine his words were. Diavolo got onto his knees to better hold and comfort you. You wrapped your arms around his neck while the tears rolled down your cheeks. "I love you," you sniffled, "I love you." Diavolo wrapped his wings around your form and held you tighter. "We don't have to continue if you don't want to," Diavolo kissed your temple. "Just give me a quick second," you said wiping the tears from your eyes, "sorry for killing the mood." Diavolo continued to press kisses to your head, "you did no such thing. I want you to feel as comfortable and safe as you can with me." You pressed your hand to Diavolo's cheek and took his lips into a passion filled kiss.

        Delighted with the way you were taking charge, Diavolo kissed back with a firm grip on your hips. Your taste was intoxicating like the sweetest nectar he could find. Diavolo greedily took more of your lips into his, deepening the kiss and holding the back of your head with his right hand. You pressed your chest up to his. The feeling of bugs crawling all over you turned into a low burning heat that flooded your veins. You couldn't help the moan that poured out of your mouth and into your lovers. "My love," Diavolo spoke against your lips, "would you be so willing to strip for me?" You nodded at Diavolo's words but before you could pull away to do exactly what he asked, he held you firmly against his body. "I want you to use your words," Diavolo hummed, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. "I will. I'll-" you couldn't believe what you were going to say, "I'll strip for you." Diavolo practically purred at what you had said before letting you go. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling his harem pants and the white cloth that covered his crotch down to reveal his cock. It stood at a good 9 inches with the girth of your wrist. It's head was throbbing red and leaking pre-cum like a broken fountain. His erection looked painfully neglected and he made that clear when his hand wrapped around the base and he hissed. Your eyes couldn't move away from how big his manhood was. His bottoms fell to his ankles and he unceremoniously kicked them away. A dark glint came to his eyes when he saw that deer in headlights look on your face.

        "Don't be afraid, MC," Diavolo stroked up his cock, pushing more pre-cum out of the already dribbling tip, "you don't have to take all of it." Your knees wobbled at the thought of having your boyfriend deep inside of you. Your fingers found their way to the button on your pants which you undid much to Diavolo's delight. Despite your inexperience at putting on a show of this kind for the viewing pleasure of another, Diavolo was thoroughly enjoying the way you undressed for him. Each stripped article of clothing revealed more and more of your body for Diavolo to gaze upon. He took his lip between his fanged teeth at the sight of your now nude body standing before him. His hand squeezed at the base of his cock making him groan. He did his best to hold back the cum he wanted to shoot all over your pure form.

        "Come here," Diavolo ordered releasing his cock from his death grip. You wobbly strode over to your lover who took your waist in his grip. His hands rubbed up and down your sides, massaging the fat of your hips and the hard bones of your ribs. You held your wrist up to your mouth, hushing your moans and sighs of pleasure. Diavolo held your rib cage in his hands with his thumbs pressing down on your nipples. You moaned at the new feeling of his thumbs rubbing circles against your sensitive chest. Diavolo pulled you closer until you could feel his breath against your ear. "So beautiful for me," he hummed into your ear, "I want to watch you touch yourself. I want to see how you look unraveling from your own fingers. Let me study your form as you please yourself to the thought of my cock gaping your pussy hole open." You moaned not only at his words but the way he pinched both of your nipples and pulled slightly before letting go. "Go ahead and lay up against the pillow," Diavolo held your knuckles to his lips, leaving kisses on each of the bony protrusions. You nodded before taking your leave to the other side of the bed and climbing onto the luxurious sheets and laying against the pillow with your knees to your chest. Diavolo climbed up the bed like a predator stalking its prey. The sight of him in such a state in his demon form made you shiver in what seemed to be a mix of fear and excitement.

        "Spread your legs, darling," Diavolo rested a hand on your knee while his other held his cock once again. You slowly opened your legs and you noticed the way Diavolo's eyes never left your core once you did so. Your clit was puffy and throbbing with need as your juices ran through your folds making them glisten. You were sure you were going to ruin the expensive sheets beneath you but Diavolo didn't seem to care. "Go ahead, MC," Diavolo licked his lips, "touch yourself for me." You bucked your hips against your hand when your fingers finally found their home on your neglected clit. "Dia!" You moaned out rubbing swift circles around your puffy nub. Diavolo grabbed the back of your thigh and pulled your leg back to get a better view of how your hole throbbed looking for something to plug it. Diavolo ran is large fingers around your hole, dipping the tips in teasingly just to test how tight you were. You moaned for him, your pussy making sloppy sounds as you rubbed your clit faster. "So gorgeous," Diavolo said mesmerized by how your fingers danced through your folds. His thumb held one of your pussy lips open so he could get a better look at how wet you actually were for him.

        "You," you moaned out, "you can finger me if you want." Diavolo could feel the hot blood pooling in his crotch at your debauched words. His innocent little MC was asking him, him to finger them? How could he say no to such a sweet request? Diavolo dropped your leg to hold your other pussy lip open while his other hand went to work rubbing at your throbbing hole. He ran the tip of his middle finger around the outside of your pussy hole, watching how it tried to grab onto him and pull his finger in. He then dipped a finger into you, careful not to be too forceful. The sound you made was like music to his ears. Diavolo swore he could hear a choir of angels coming from your mouth. He ran his middle finger along your gummy walls that he so longed to feel. You clenched around his finger, pulling the digit in further. Diavolo chuckled at how desperate your pussy ached to be filled. The pad of his finger ran all along your walls until he found that ribbed spot at the top of your pelvis. He pressed down experimentally causing your hips to raise and you to hump against his hand in pleasure. "Look at you," Diavolo hummed, "you're being so good." You whined at his praise while your fingers went back to work rubbing at your clit. Diavolo rubbed firm circles against your G-spot watching how your pussy throbbed and twitched in pleasure. Soon, he felt your hole tighten before a loud moan tore from your throat. Your thighs quivered and your fingers sped up chasing the highest point of your orgasm before they slowed down then stopped altogether. Juices pooled beneath your butt staining the silken sheets beneath you. Your chest was heaving from the wonderful orgasm your lover had so helped you achieve but Diavolo wasn't done just yet. He continued rubbing at your G-Spot, making you whine and twitch in over-stimulation. You pressed your hand to his face not sure if you were trying to push him away or hold onto him. He swiftly took your wet fingers into his mouth, tasting your sweet juices against your skin. Your other hand came to hold onto his horn, hoping to ground yourself in someway.

        Diavolo added another finger, scissoring your hole open before going back to abusing your G-Spot. You couldn't control how your hips twitched, bucked, and moved on their own against Diavolo's sweet torturous fingers. "Dia," you moaned out, "I have to pee!" You continued humping his fingers but despite your warning, Diavolo didn't let up. His pupils blew wide at what you had just said and his fingers worked faster. He pulled your own fingers from his mouth so his lips could wrap around your twitching clit. You yelped in sensitivity as both of your hands held, firmly onto Diavolo's horns. Your body felt hotter at the messy slurping sounds your boyfriend was making against your juicy cunt. Your body started spasming and Diavolo took that as his cue. He pulled his mouth away from your clit, holding his mouth open in front of your pussy. Suddenly a scream was pulled from your lips as juices erupted from your cunt, painting Diavolo's face in your orgasm. He did his best catching as much of your squirt as he could in his mouth but most of it landed on his face. His fingers slowed down, letting you ride out your orgasm until he pulled them out. He took note of how pruned his fingers were due to your sopping juices coating them.

        You could only lie there trying to catch your breath. Did you just squirt? Your eyes snapped open to see Diavolo's face coated in a slick liquid. "MC," he growled, licking your essence from his lips. "Dia!" You yelped, "I'm sorry I-" "I want you speared on my cock." Your abused cunt throbbed once again at his words making you twitch. "If I could," Diavolo said climbing over you, "I would have you like that all the time. Every morning I'd eat that delicious cunt until you squirted all over me just like that." "Diavolo," you breathlessly moaned at his words. His cock rested heavily against your pubic mound making you jolt your hips up.

        "Dia," you gasped, "g-give me a second!" Diavolo nodded resting his face against your neck. You could feel your juices leaving a damp mark on your skin where he rested. His firm hands gripped your hips, rubbing soft and gentle circles against your skin. Did you really just squirt? Not only that but did you really just squirt on Diavolo Prince of the Devildom's face while he finger fucked you? Your life had gotten so much more strange and wonderful since your time here. You ran your fingers through his crimson hair with your other arm draped over his shoulder. If you closed your eye for a second you could pretend that you had died and gone to heaven. Your heart rate started to steady and your cunt started to awaken once more, ready to take whatever Diavolo was going to put inside it.

        "I think-" you thought for a second then spoke again, "I'm ready to go again." Diavolo kissed up your neck, sucking in the tender skin before pulling back to look at your debauched form. "My sweet MC," Diavolo hummed before grabbing your thighs to pull around his waist, "you give me so much." You reached your hands up to wrap around his neck while his cock dragged lazily through your sloppy folds. You could feel the heat buzzing off of him like a furnace. His head caught your sensitive clit a couple times making you gasp and moan out his name. "Put it in me," you whined, desperate to finally have your boyfriend fill you. "Fuck, say that again," Diavolo cursed under his breath. You humped his manhood as it rubbed against your juicy cunt, "please Diavolo. I want it in me." Diavolo leaned down to your ear, nibbling the edge of the shell before speaking directly into it. "What do you want in you, darling?" You felt embarrassed saying it out loud but did so anyway, "I want your cock in me, Dia." Diavolo growled into your ear before pulling his hips back and easing his glorious manhood into you. Your eyebrows furrowed as your mouth gaped open at the feeling of being so stretched out. You're glad Diavolo had prepped you so well to take him. You were sure that he would not have been able to go in without a little bit of fingering before hand.

        Inch by inch, Diavolo pushed inside of you until he felt you could take no more. Your walls pulsed and quivered around his cock, sucking him in so greedily. Diavolo felt that he could die then and there and have fulfilled his life goals. He wanted to start rutting into you like a wild beast. He could imagine how your body would flop around like ragdoll around his mighty cock but Diavolo had to be careful. If he was to rough with your fragile human form he could seriously injure you. He hissed when he dragged his cock out of your warm cunt, your walls sliding along his girth so wonderfully. A soft moan of his name passed your lips while he gently thrusted back into your accommodating pussy. He held your thighs in a vice like grip, the fat squishing under his fingers in such a delicious way. Although Diavolo could never gain access, he assumed this is what heaven felt like. Your soft and pliable body laying beneath him so willing to take his cock in any way you can.

        "MC," Diavolo groaned at how you squeezed his cock, "may I kiss you?" You nodded eagerly at his request leaning your head back to open yourself up for his lips. Diavolo found his mouth against yours in a soft yet passionate kiss. He drank in every sound, every moan, every mumble of his name you'd give him. Soon, his pace sped up to a more steady rhythm of thrusting in and out of your hole. Your wet pussy made sloppy, sopping sounds with every entrance of his cock into you. Your nails dug into the muscle of his back as he pushed your legs up towards your chest in order to better angle his cock into you. Diavolo pulled from the kiss, enjoying the string of saliva that came with him and the fucked out look on your face. You were panting and moaning with your eyes glossed over with a look of lust. Diavolo took a picture of you with his mind hoping to save this moment into his memory for all eternity. "You look-" Diavolo grunted when you squeezed him just right, "you look so beautiful like this." You moaned out his name trying to kiss him once again. Instead, Diavolo dove to your neck taking the skin between his lips and sucking. He trailed kisses up and down the side of your neck, sucking, biting, then licking over where he bit.

        If you were in a less lust filled state you'd have to worry about hiding the hickies Diavolo left tomorrow but that would most likely hurt his feelings. Diavolo wanted to mark you. He wanted all of the three realms to know who you laid with and who you belonged to. He wanted everyone to know who finally corrupted the sweet, innocent human. You were finally all his now.

        Diavolo pulled back from your neck to admire the series of marks he had left. Your hands laid by your head taking fistfuls of the pillows behind you while your face was contorted into a grimace of absolute pleasure. Diavolo was torn between wishing he could show all of the Devildom how well he fucked you and keeping your expressions all for himself. He dropped one of your legs and snaked his hand to your clit, rubbing circles on the erect nub. You gasped out moans at the feeling of being both so full and so over-stimulated with pleasure. Diavolo's eyes never left your face drinking in every expression, every moan, every furrow of your eyebrows and every whine you made. Oh, how he loved when you would whimper let out from being so thoroughly fucked out on his cock.

         Diavolo gave you a sharp thrust that made your back arch and to his amazement, you managed to take all of his cock. "Look at that," Diavolo growled speeding up his ministrations on your clit, "such a greedy little hole. You took all of me like a champ." You opened your eyes to stare at Diavolo's love struck face. His eyes were now trained on where you two connected and how your pussy sucked him in.

        "Your-" you gasped out, "you're so big!" Diavolo's hips faltered for a minute before resuming their usual pace.

        "Does it hurt?"

        "It feels so good! I love you, I love you, I love you-"

        You were cut off by a sharp thrust to your G-Spot and a lewd moan leaving your mouth. Diavolo chuckled pushing both of your thighs up as far as they could go, essentially putting you in a mating press. You were bewildered by how much your body could take. Diavolo leaned into you as much as he could without crushing you. Your smaller body took him so well in ways he could have never imagined. The pleasure was building inside of him.

        "My love," Diavolo moaned into your ear making goosebumps rise on your skin, "can I cum inside you?"

        You shivered at his words and nodded. "I need to hear you say it," Diavolo kissed up your face to your temple. Your soft skin was like the very cloud of heaven under his lips.

        "Dia," you managed to moan out, "please! Please cum in me! I want you so bad-" You were cut off by a particularly sharp thrust that made you let out a sob. Diavolo would have those words replaying in his head for the next millennia.. His sweet, innocent human was under him begging for his cum deep inside their hole. Diavolo growled sinking his teeth into your shoulder while his gave one final, deep thrust. Warmth like you had never felt before pooled in your womb. Your lower body felt like it was on fire. More of his cum started spilling out as it became too much for your body to hold. You could hear Diavolo's moans through the mouthful of your skin he had in his mouth. Finally, his horns retreated back into his skull as his wings shrunk into his back.

        Your lover pulled back to look at his handy work. Your puffy abused cunt was leaking cum onto the sheets below despite him still being fully sheathed inside you. His thumb came to rub circles on your clit once more making you jolt and let out a sharp moan. Your body twitched and writhed until finally cumming around his cock. Your walls twitched and sucked in as much of his dick as it could. Diavolo shuddered at the feeling of your gummy walls constricting around him. Your poor pussy dribbled juices, too spent to squirt again.

        "Oh, my love," Diavolo purred, "you are so wonderful." He leaned down to pepper kisses across your face making you laugh. "Dia!" Diavolo pressed his forehead to yours. "You look so beautiful like this," Diavolo hummed, "I wish we could stay like this forever." Your walls pulsed around his cock making him groan. "We can," you started, "we can stay like this for a little while." Diavolo smiled at your shy expression, "you want to warm my cock for me, hm?" You tried to look away, embarrassed from his words but still, you nodded. Diavolo captured your lips in a short but loving kiss. "I wouldn't have it any other way, MC."

#diavolo #diavolo x reader #obey me x reader #obey me smut #diavolo smut #diavolo x reader smut #my writing #obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo x reader

[beelzeballing]

actually i dont think ive posted my thoughts on ofmd s2 overall here yet have i?

ok here goes: i think it had incredibly high highs, and at some parts i genuinely enjoyed it more than i did the first season, episode 6 being peak imo. however, it had equally abysmal lows with some glaring writing-, tone- and pacing issues that all came to a head in the finale.

i once read someone say that, if you ever feel like a finale ruined the whole story, maybe you should take another look at the story. there were most likely cracks and problems all along, and the finale did nothing besides dashing the hope that these would perhaps be addressed later. very rarely do genuinely well written stories go completely off the rails in the finale and ruin the whole thing.

i think this is applicable here in some ways, SPECIFICALLY in regards to edward. good god edward was a MESS this season, and it's so sad because i loved the starting point! the kraken era was absolutely terrifying and iconic as FUCK but... they shouldn't have leaned so hard into the drama and trauma of it all. don't get me wrong, i loved that it did. it's one of my favorite parts of the season and i'm so glad we got it. but if they wanted this arc to work with the overarching plot as they wrote it, they would've had to lighten up the tone here CONSIDERABLY. had they played the kraken era for comedy then sure! edward's bad youtuber apology would've been funny. his fast redemption would've been less jarring. the lack of consequences less disturbing. but as it stands in the show, this arc is too dark to function with the later episodes.

i feel like they wanted to have their cake and eat it too here. they wanted the gritty drama of ed coming off the hinges entirely but also didn't want to deal with the aftermath of such a heavy arc in their silly pirate romcom. be that due to time constraints and budget cuts or because they were simply unwilling to, doesn't really matter in the end. the result is the same either way: a very tonally messy season with some accidentally troubling implications regarding abuse.

and mentioning troubling implications regarding abuse; izzy. my poor, poor izzy... his arc was absolutely glorious. i liked izzy the second he showed up in s1 and i was absolutely EATING this season up in that regard. and i think in this case, they genuinely did fuck it all up in the finale with that one stupid choice:

choosing to kill izzy was the DUMBEST thing they couldve done here.

ive talked about this over and over and over again. ive reblogged so many meta posts. and still i am left absolutely flabbergasted by how stupid of a decision this was. the fridging, playing at the fallen woman trope, killing the beating heart of the season and the character who delivers what is essentially a thesis statement, killing off the character whose arc is about coming to terms with his disability, having him die in edward's arms, comforting him and apologizing after an entire season of finding community and love outside of edward, the absolutely godawful pacing of it all, the extremely easy and obvious solution of just having IZZY become the new captain of the revenge to mirror s1 and hammer home how much he has developed since then in one go... i could go on. and i have. it was a stupid writing decision, completely fucked the tone and pacing of the finale and took away attention and time from things that really would've deserved a better wrap up (lucius and black pete deserved better)

now. the whole prince ricky & zheng plot line... yeah that shit sucked ass, sorry. they bit off more than they could chew here. i honestly think those are the arc words of this season:

✨️ bit off more than they could chew ✨️

right off the bat: i think he was good as a concept. bringing in a foil for stede who just doesn't Get It as stede does could've made for very good comedy and drama (and to be fair there is some of that). but that shit got away from them extremely quickly. nothing about how he's implemented past his first episode works, and i think this is very specifically because he's mostly played as the comic relief in his debut episode. making this completely bumbling fool, who gets his nose hacked off on his first job, the main villain of your entire season is... definitely a choice. idk. he didn't work for me at all.

ok wow mentioning shit getting away from the writers. this definitely got away from me. this was supposed to be a short lil post. well. i guess tl;dr i loved this season but jesus christ there was a lot wrong with it. if you want to hear more thoughts. ask box is open. be my guest. i have more to say so even if you dont ask i might add more to this at some point but im tired and have work tmrw.

#i was going to do shit today and now look at me. #0:18 at night #laying in bed #writing this shit #i havent even eaten. #christtttt #moogsin' #ofmd #izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd meta #ofmd critical #ofmd s2 #ofmd spoilers #the izcourse #im not tagging any of the other characters cuz i shittalk all of them 😭 #listen i love edward hes my babygirl but this season did him DIRTY.

[zukosdualdao]

the moon will sing a song for me (i loved you like the sun)

zutara month, day seven: divine intervention, @zutaramonth.

summary: when zuko takes the lightning aimed for katara, it takes a little more than her usual healing to get him back from the brink. feat. yue's words of encouragement and empowering influence on katara, medically necessary bloodbending, and a zuko who is too out of it to understand much of what is going on, but that's okay. katara has him.

content warnings: general references to violence and wounds, nothing more explicit than the show.

notes: title is from "the moon will sing" by the crane wives. yes i do too many lyric titles. no i will not stop <3. idk when sozin's comet officially ended but for fic purposes we are imagining the timing makes sense for the moon to be out after the agni kai. two pieces of dialogue were taken from the show.

Zuko groans as he's being turned over. His bones feel like liquid, his skin set alight, his heart like a crater in his chest.

Katara, he thinks, he tries to say, he doesn't know.

Katara looks at him with a worried expression, her lips turned in a frown, her eyes wide with fear and sadness as she presses a watery hand to his crumpled, prone form.

She is worried but alive. She is alive, and if she is here, then she must have defeated Azula.

Katara is alive. That is what counts. This was his destiny, then. To save her.

It wasn't a bad note to end on.

Zuko closes his eyes. There's a hammering thud in his chest. He is so tired. Normally, he'd associate the feel of it with exertion, or else desperation, and he would feel frantic. But he is so tired. He has been so tired.

"No," he thinks he hears Katara say. It sounds like she's underwater, or perhaps he is. "No, Zuko, don't you dare."

He struggles to open his eyes again because he doesn't want her to sound so angry with him and doesn't want her to be sad. It only feels like a moment has passed, or maybe it has been hours.

She is looking up. Pale, yellow light shadows her.

Katara is speaking with the moon.

The moon is also a girl.

Someone told him a story like that once.

A spirit, he thinks a little redundantly, with white tresses of hair and a glowy form and a gentle smile. The moon spirit?

Zuko jerks, a spasm of his body as he lights up again with the pain, and Katara looks back to him, alarmed.

"—but you know another way," the moon-girl insists softly to Katara, whom Zuko looks at as her mouth sets in a thin, determined line. Unless he's imagining it all, which is possible. "And I am here with you now."

After a moment's hesitation, Katara nods and sets her left, water-encased hand against his chest again and raises her other in a motion he faintly recognizes.

"This is going to hurt," she says warningly, sadly. "But it will help. I think. It has to." She shakes her head, torn.

Zuko doesn't know what's going on, but if Katara says it will help, that's all that really matters.

"I trust you," he slurs. Is that him? Does he sound like that?

Katara blinks. Zuko watches tears slip from her cheeks.

And then, it starts. She did not lie about it hurting. Despite himself, Zuko feels his body rising from the ground in pain and panic, and Katara has to keep him pressed down. His blood is boiling, his chest swelling. This must be what dying feels like. But then, he's pretty sure he was dying before. He supposes it's a process.

"—sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry—" Zuko makes out the words, faint in his ears, though Katara sobs them out.

Eventually, though, the beat of his heart evens. His blood begins to simmer down. The pain melts.

He watches as Katara pulls back, resting on her knees. The moon-girl smiles down on them before fading back into being just the moon, high in their war-torn sky again.

Nothing that just happened makes any sense, Zuko decides dazedly. But it was Katara who saved him, and that made all the sense in the world.

"Thank you, Katara," he rasps, looking up at her through heavy eyes. Looking at her made everything in the world seem alright again.

She looks down at him with a soft expression and a watery smile.

"I think I'm the one who should be thanking you."

#zutaramonth2024 #zutaramonth #zutara month #zuko x katara #katara x zuko #day 7: divine intervention #atla #zutara #zuko #katara #my fic #the moon will sing a song for me (i loved you like the sun) #yue #shoutout to my girl yue. personally i think she would tell katara bloodbending is not inherently evil. god bless <3

[naughtyneganjdm]

Good Luck Charm - Chapter 29

Summary: Negan deals with the overwhelming emotional effects of what happened to Y/N altering his life and he's not handling it well.

Characters: Negan, Y/N/reader (OC), Evie, Nathan, Simon, etc.

Warnings: Swearing, Severe Angst, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39423063/chapters/139486027

Notes: I know I said that I would put up the priest Negan fic next, but this one has been done and edited for a while. I just forgot about it. But I promise that one is next. Thanks to anyone that still reads this story!

“You’re being lazy,” Negan felt the warmth of an arm wrapping around his waist from behind, holding him close. It made a smile tug at Negan’s lips when he cuddled his head in closer to the pillow that he was laying on. A faint kiss was pressed over the back of his neck and it had his lips parting. “You need to wake up. It’s a busy day.”

“Every day is a busy day,” Negan frowned, turning in the bed with his tired eyes fluttering to an open. “You know that Y/N.”

Seeing her smile made his heart skip a beat. Maybe he got used to seeing her sad for so long that whenever she smiled it honestly took his breath away. Hooking his fingers with hers, Negan brought her hand to him to place a kiss over the back of it.

“There is nowhere I’d rather be than in bed with you,” Negan informed her with a hesitant smile, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against hers. There was no better feeling in the world than waking up knowing that you weren’t alone. That there was someone with you to share your life with. “I’d rather take the day just to be with you.”

“Why are you still here Negan?” Y/N whispered causing his breath to get caught in his throat. Tipping his head back, he felt his body tensing up and he didn’t know what she meant. That wasn’t exactly the response that he was looking for.

“In bed? Because I’m comfortable with you,” Negan responded with a frown. The warmth he felt waking up was suddenly cold and uneasy. She looked unhappy with him and he didn’t know what to say. “I don’t care about the rest of the world right now. The children are sleeping. We’re together. That’s all that matters.”

“I mean at The Sanctuary,” she countered causing his lips to part. Trying to lean forward to kiss her, Negan felt her fingers pressing in over his lips to keep him from doing so. “I asked you to take the children to the farm and you’re still living here Negan.”

“What do you…?” Negan began with a faint whisper, stopping when he realized where this conversation was headed.

“I asked you and you promised me. You swore you were going to take the children to the farm Negan. Let them live a normal life. You swore,” her voice got angrier as she sat up in the bed. The tension in her body only further proved that. It made Negan’s heart begin to race and he felt like he was starting to panic. Pressing up onto his palms, Negan braced his body weight on them as he stared out at her on the bed. “It was my dying wish Negan. You promised me and you still haven’t done it. Why haven’t you kept your promise?”

With a gasp, Negan’s eyes snapped open with his heart hammering inside of his chest. Lifting his head, Negan saw that it was still nighttime with the small amount of light from the moon filtering into his room at The Sanctuary. Gazing to the bed beside him, Negan made sure that Nathan and Evie were still there. When he knew that they were safe, he was able to calm down somewhat before attempting to gather himself.

Lowering his head into his palms, Negan groaned out and couldn’t shake the feeling that he was experiencing. The nightmares returned. They were gone for a short while, but now every time he closed his eyes he had some kind of bad dream that revolved around Y/N. Either that moment on the hill repeated in his dreams or she was in them angry. He had a few dreams that included Lucille as well. She was angry with him too in them for what went down. There was no escaping the way he was feeling. Not awake. Not sleeping.

Sliding in closer to his children, Negan pulled both Nathan and Evie in closer to his body. It had been weeks since the day Negan had left Y/N in that small town. For the first two weeks Negan went out every day searching for her body. He had most of The Saviors searching for her too. They all knew what she looked like and what she was wearing. It had almost been a month with no prevail. But he kept looking. He wasn’t ready to give up.

What Y/N had said to him in his dreams echoed throughout his mind. He did promise her that he would take the children to the farm, but his number one priority was finding her body. More than anything, he needed that closure. The children needed that closure. They needed to bury Y/N in order for them to have a grave to go to. That meant he had to stay at The Sanctuary and use all the resources he could in order to try to find her.

In his arms, Negan felt Evie cuddling in closer to him and it made his chest ache. Since they hadn’t found Y/N, Evie was convinced during the first few weeks that her mother was still alive, but the longer time passed the more it became obvious that Evie was coming to terms with the thought that her mother was really gone. Especially since Y/N would have made it back to them if she was alive. There was no way that she wouldn’t have made it back. Not with having Nathan and Evie with Negan.

It was hard for both him and Evie. Negan was suffering greatly from depression. He was doing his best to hold it together but losing Y/N had hit him hard. Nathan really didn’t understand it, he was too young. He would ask for her, but he didn’t understand that she was gone. Negan wished it wasn’t like this, but there was nothing he could do to change it.

Because Negan was having a hard time he picked up on the fact that Evie was doing her best not to have meltdowns, but some days she was like him and she would break down. But most of the time it felt like she was taking care of him. Evie knew that he was broken especially after finding him that day having a meltdown at the farm. It was a job that she shouldn’t have had to carry the weight of, but she was doing her best for the both of them. It should have been the opposite, but no matter what Negan did he couldn’t pull himself out of the darkness that he was feeling.

Pressing a kiss over the top of Evie’s head, Negan cuddled his chin in closer to her to hold her close. Nathan was lying beside Evie on the other end and Negan made sure he was close too before trying to get comfortable. Sleeping became hard for Negan again. He had a hard time staying asleep. Exhaustion would often catch up to him and he would pass out, but it never lasted long.

Another thing Negan knew is that he wasn’t taking care of himself physically either. Before all of this happened, he would always keep himself looking super clean and pristine. Now he was letting his hair grow out and it was often messy. It had been a long time since he had shaved. And he wasn’t showering like he could have been. Right now those things just didn’t matter to him.

He was making sure that the children were fed and taken care of, but all he cared about was finding Y/N. It didn’t make sense to him that she was completely missing. Then again, there was a thought that entered his mind. If Y/N did turn, they were right by the water. He didn’t want to think it, but there was that chance that she ended up in the water and that’s why they were never finding her. Maybe her corpse was beneath the water and they would never find her.

That thought was horrifying to him and it was one that he was going to have to live with for a long time. He hoped that he was wrong and there was something that him and his Saviors were missing. It didn’t make sense that they weren’t finding her body. Negan personally went through the entire town that they were in when he left her. Multiple times. He searched for some kind of sign as to where she went and he found nothing. There was nothing there. It was like she just completely vanished.

Clearing his throat, Negan thought about how Y/N asked Negan to give Evie her wedding band that Negan gave her. That was something he didn’t follow through with either. Instead it was still on the necklace that he wore. In his mind, she was his wife so he was never going to take it off. It kept a piece of her with him always.

Right now, he still saw her in his sleep every night. It was often a nightmare, but at least he still saw Y/N. He was worried about how long it might be before he stopped dreaming of her. Until he stopped remembering what her voice sounded like. They got so far only for their dreams to be ripped out from beneath them. It wasn’t fair. That’s how he still viewed this whole situation. It was wrong on so many levels and it wasn’t fair.

Trying to force his eyes closed, Negan knew that he wasn’t likely going to fall asleep. And if he did? It would take hours. So he just cherished the warmth of his children near him. Glad that they were at least sleeping.

Unfortunately he was right. Negan was awake long enough for the sun to start to rise and by the time he finally did fall asleep, he didn’t stay asleep for long before one of his people at The Sanctuary brought in breakfast for them. Lifting his head, Negan groaned out when he saw that Evie and Nathan were already up sitting at the table. Clutching tightly to the pillow that was in his arms, Negan grumbled and lowered his head back down.

“Breakfast daddy,” Evie called out to Negan who rolled onto his stomach before pulling the pillow in over his head. With a sigh, Evie got up from the bed and reached for Negan’s white t-shirt to tug at it. “You have to eat. You didn’t eat lunch or dinner yesterday.”

“I’m not hungry,” Negan grumbled with his voice being muffled against the bedsheets. Another firm tug was felt at his shirt when Evie managed to get him up and seated on the edge of the bed. There were dark circles under Negan’s eyes and his hair was a mess. Frowning, Evie stepped forward to brush her fingers through her father’s messy hair. “You don’t have to take care of me Evie.”

“I do,” she insisted reaching for Negan’s hands to squeeze tightly at them. Getting Negan finally to his feet, she led him over toward the chair that he would often sit at and got him to lower down. Sliding his plate of breakfast before him, she handed him over the silverware before taking her seat. Nathan was already at his chair, kicking his feet while he picked at his breakfast. Evie was doing her best to eat too, but Negan hated this part of things. They still had the fourth chair there. Having it empty felt wrong, but taking it away felt worse. So his meals would often lead to him having a breakdown that led him to tears thinking about Y/N. “Daddy?”

“Yeah baby?” Negan’s tired expression met Evie’s when she pointed down to the plate. “I’m trying honey. I’m sorry.”

“Hi daddy,” Nathan smiled brightly when Negan looked him over. It drew attention to his dimples and Negan feigned a smile. God, this was so fucking hard and he knew that he had to start stepping it up. He was the only parent these two had left and he felt like he was failing them. He felt like he was failing Y/N.

“Good morning handsome,” Negan got up from his chair enough to press a kiss over Nathan’s forehead. Brushing his fingers through Nathan’s hair, Negan carefully lowered back down into his seat and sighed loudly. Watching Nathan pick at his food, Negan slid his chair in closer and reached for the silverware. Cutting up his food, Negan lifted it up on a spoon making Nathan’s smile expand. With a hum Nathan swallowed down on the food and bobbed his head about like nothing was wrong. “Does that taste good buddy?”

“Yeah,” Nathan responded eager for another bite when Negan brought up a spoonful again. Evie’s eyes were locked on them together while Negan attempted to make silly faces to get Nathan to giggle. What she also noticed was that Negan never took a bite of his food. “Yum.”

“Yum is right. You’re gonna grow up and be a strong little boy, aren’t you?” Negan heard the sound of a chair moving, but he kept his attention on Nathan. Suddenly the sound of Evie making train sounds were heard and a spoon was placed in front of his mouth. Arching his eyebrow, Negan’s head slowly turned and Evie nodded toward the spoon.

“Eat,” she demanded of Negan who let out a long exhale. “Do I have to make silly faces too?”

Replicating almost the same faces as Negan was doing previously with Nathan had Nathan in a round of giggles before Negan opened his mouth to accept the bite, “Now if you want to feed Nathan, I’ll feed you. Swallow it down.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan swallowed down hard knowing that she was just doing her best to get him to eat. Evie kept up with what she was doing until Nathan was done with his breakfast. Raising his hand up, Negan nodded his head about and sighed. “I can feed myself the rest of the time.”

“Okay,” she lowered the silverware and gave him a stern expression. Usually Evie took on a majority of his genes, but that look right there. That look was something he had seen from Y/N so many times in the past. “You better.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan smirked, whistling when Evie went to walk away. Wiggling his fingers, Negan motioned her to him again. Curling his arm around her waist, he hugged her close to him. He knew that he wasn’t being the best father he could be right now, but the depression was hitting him hard. Having Evie here with him definitely made things better, but he knew he should have been the one taking care of her. Not the other way around. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, burying her head against the side of his neck to squeeze harder at him for the hug.

A knock was heard making them both look back to see that the door was slowly pushing open. Once Simon was revealed to be behind it, Negan cleared his throat and felt a sense of discomfort, “Hey boss man. Can we talk?”

“Not until he’s done with his breakfast,” Evie answered for Negan and it made Negan’s thick eyebrows bounce up in amusement. Simon’s head tipped to the side with him looking to Negan for a response.

“You heard the little lady, she’s in charge,” Negan pointed to Evie who gave a faint smile when her father listened to her instead of going straight to work like he normally would. “She’s the boss. So let me finish this and I will be right out.”

“It’s kind of important,” Simon stressed to Negan, his hands resting at his hips when Evie reached out to place her hand in over her father’s shoulder almost to stress dominance in this moment.

“And so is him eating. He doesn’t have much left, he hasn’t eaten much in days so please let him eat. You can wait outside,” Evie waved her hand about in the air before returning to her seat. A snort fell from Negan’s lips at her response. Shrugging his shoulders, Negan nodded in the direction of Evie showing Simon that he was going to be listening to his daughter. “He’ll be out when he’s done. You can wait outside.”

With a grunt, Simon gave Negan a glare before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Faintly clapping his hands together, Negan knew that Evie was proud of herself, “Good job baby girl. I can’t even get him to listen to me.”

“It’s time someone did,” she finished with her breakfast while he did the same. After he finished, he got up from his seat and got the dishes together. Then he gave both Nathan and Evie a kiss on the head before starting to go for the door. “Are you going to be gone today?”

“No honey, I’m just gonna go speak to Simon and then I will be right back,” Negan assured her with a firm nod of his head. Giving her a wink, he headed out of the room and saw that Simon was resting against the wall with anger flooding his features. “What is it?”

Once the door was shut behind Negan, Simon stepped forward and threw his hands up in the air, “When are we going to stop this Negan? It’s been weeks and you still have The Saviors out looking for Y/N. I think we both know we’re not going to find anything.”

“We stop when we find her,” Negan responded with a shake of his head. This was something Simon kept bringing up and by this point it was starting to really infuriate Negan. There was a flood of rage rushing through his veins and Negan knew he had to try to keep a level head about this. “I’m not going to give up until we find her.”

“Then you’re never going to be safe Negan,” Simon retorted with an angered breath. “Rick’s crew is likely planning their attack on the fucking place while you’re wasting all of our resources and our men on some bitch that is likely dead at the bottom of the water.”

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Negan roared, stepping forward to firmly shove his hands into the center of Simon’s chest. The swiftness of it had Simon stumbling backwards, a grunt falling from his throat. “Don’t you fucking dare call my wife a bitch. I will fucking destroy you.”

“Like you’re destroying The Saviors and The Sanctuary?” Simon snarled hearing Negan’s breathing growing louder, his hazel eyes narrowing in frustration. “Ever since Y/N and those kids showed up, you’ve been letting this place nosedive into the ground. You are meant to be the leader. We are in the middle of a war with Rick and his people. What are you doing though? You’re in your bedroom every day sobbing into your pillows. And if you’re not doing that you are out all day long looking for a woman that you know is dead. We both know you’re never going to find her Negan.”

“I don’t give a shit what you think Simon. I’m going to keep looking for her because I love her and…” Negan paused when the sound of Simon laughing interrupted him. Biting at his bottom lip, Negan felt his rage increasing with Simon rolling his eyes.

“You loved her?” Simon mocked Negan, emphasizing his words in an antagonizing way. Simon’s jaw was clenching and he made it clear he was furious with the way Negan was acting. “She was one of your wives Negan. Not the only one. Just one of them.”

“Watch where you are headed with this,” Negan warned his number two, his fingers curling into a tighter fist at his side.

“You know, I never really agreed with your actions here, but I went along with it because for the most part, it got things done,” Simon began, his eyes locking with Negan’s trying to express some sense of power over Negan in this moment. “Then Rick shows up and proves to you that your way of doing things isn’t going to work. But you keep toying with the guy and you are letting them build up an offense against us. Then your family shows up and suddenly you don’t care anymore. All you care about is your family and a woman that you didn’t even care for when the world was normal Negan. Why the hell is she so important now? Because she certainly wasn’t when you were married to Lucille.”

Closing his eyes, Negan tried to count to himself knowing that he was fully prepared to attack Simon at this moment, “Now you’re letting a ten-year-old control your life and it’s fucking pathetic.”

Grunting out, Simon stumbled back after the force of Negan punching him collided with the side of his face. It had Simon grabbing the railing, his fingers curling tightly around the metal when his other hand reached up to caress where Negan had hit him. Lifting his head, Simon noticed the way that Negan’s eyes were locked on him, with Negan’s chest heaving.  

Standing up straight, Simon’s blood was rushing through his veins when he stepped before Negan fully prepared to fight him back when Negan shoved into him again, “What are you gonna do Simon? Huh? You wanna fight? I fucking dare you. I will destroy you.”

“Daddy?” Evie’s voice was heard in a faint whisper. Both men gazed over at her with Simon backing down when he saw Negan’s younger daughter staring out at them with big eyes. Worry filled her young features and Simon scoffed, before rubbing at his face again. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine baby,” Negan’s posture changed completely when he spotted Evie, lowering down on his knees to reach out to cup her face in his rough hands. “You go back in there and watch your brother for me. Daddy just needs to talk to Simon, okay?”

By her expression, Negan could tell that Evie wasn’t comfortable with leaving him, but she was going to listen to him just because he asked her to. Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, Negan slowly stood and waited for the door to be closed before turning on his heel, “You ever say something negative about my wife or my daughter again and I will fucking kill you. You understand me?”

“Crystal clear,” Simon’s shoulders slouched, his breathing loud enough for Negan to hear. In a sense, Simon was lucky because Negan wasn’t sure what he was capable of if Evie hadn’t come out. “At least I know when this place falls, it wasn’t my fault. It was yours.”

“Fuck you,” Negan snarled under his breath, standing his ground before Simon. With a roll of his eyes, Simon shook his head before giving Negan a final glare. Instead of saying anything more, Simon walked off leaving Negan to himself. Negan let out a tense sound, his heart hammering in his chest with a fire burning in his fist from where he had punched Simon. He was furious with the way that Simon responded to him searching for Y/N. If it came between dealing with Rick and finding Y/N, he wanted to find Y/N. That would be his choice every time. Shaking his head, Negan stepped back toward the door to his bedroom and stopped when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eyes. Immediately, his stomach sank, his heart hammering in his chest when he saw Y/N standing at the end of the hallway. “Y/N?”

Calling out, Negan started to move away from the door of the bedroom that his children was in. Once he seemed to notice her there, she took off in the other direction and he quickened his movements. It seemed like she was pushing through the group of people that were on the second level to get away from Negan when he called out to her again. She got a head start down the stairs and he took off after her.

“Stop! What are you doing?” Negan called out and it drew her to look back over her shoulder at Negan when she got to the bottom of the stairs. When their eyes connected, Negan could feel a chill run down his spine. “Wait.”

His pleas were heard on deaf ears as she continued to run away from him and he felt a rush of panic flooding his veins. Trying his best to keep up with her, Negan cussed out to himself when he reached the bottom of the stairs and didn’t see her. Looking both ways, he noticed that an exit door was closing and he quickly headed that way.

Once he reached the outside, he came to a stumbling stop to look around. He could barely breathe when he took a look around in hopes of finding her. Everything was weighing heavy on him, but mostly confusion. How’d she get back here and why was she running away? And how was she alive?

Finally, his eyes locked onto Y/N when he saw that she was standing by the gate where they had all of the walkers attached to it to keep people from trying to enter The Sanctuary.

“Y/N!” Negan called out her name once more, fear overtaking him when he saw her getting close to the fence. With him approaching, it had the growling sounds from the walkers growling and they seemed to get more animated with him there. Coming to a stop drew her eyes away for a minute to gaze over at him and Negan threw his hands up in the air. His pulse was pounding inside of his head, his breathing uneven when he approached her. “Y/N? What are you doing? How’d you get here? You’re alive.”

Smirking, she gave Negan a weird expression before going back to observing the walker. When she leaned a little too close in for his comfort, he threw his hand up to stop her, “Hey! Be careful. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Calm down,” she breathed out with a wrinkle of her nose. She seemed to be taking in the features of the walker that was before her. Without any fear, she stepped closer to it and it had Negan stepping forward. “It’s not like I’m going to get bit or anything. Well…again.”  

“That’s not funny,” Negan grunted under his breath drawing Y/N to smile, tipping her head from side to side. Reaching out she poked at the abdomen of the walker before her and Negan didn’t know how to react to the way she was acting. “I don’t understand what’s going on right now. You’ve been gone for weeks. You make it back to The Sanctuary, you’re perfectly okay and the first thing you decide to do is run away from me so you can get close and personal with the walkers?”

Again, she didn’t respond to him as she poked at a different spot on the walker which made the growling sounds grow louder, “Hey! I’m talking to you. After everything that happened the last time I saw you, this is what you decide to do? Not go to your children? And you’re making jokes about being bitten?”  

“You’re being too sensitive,” she stammered, finally giving her full attention to Negan resting her hands on her hips. “Maybe I’m just taking more after you. Making light of a dark situation. You’re the one with the dark humor here. Take the stick out of your ass Negan.”

“I…what?” Negan responded in disbelief when she snickered to herself and started walking the length of the fence again. “Y/N? What are you doing?”

Brushing his fingers through his messy hair, Negan’s body was trembling and more than anything he wanted to wrap his arms around her to hug her, but she was acting so strange. Clearing his throat, a warmth flooded his face when he threw his hand up in the air.

“I imagine you’re really mad at me right now for leaving,” Negan suggested finally getting her attention when she looked back over her shoulder at him. “I heard that gun go off. I was certain that you killed yourself and I made a promise to you. I left and if I would have ever known that you were alive I promise I would have never left you. I told you that the mark on your arm didn’t exactly look like a bite.”

It seemed like she was thinking things over before turning on her heel to approach him, still saying nothing.

“You have no idea the hell that I’ve been through since that day. I thought you were dead. Evie thought you were dead,” Negan informed her with a broken sound, his hand hovering in over his chest and shaking when she let out a long exhale. “We need to take you to her. Come with me.”

Extending his hand out, Negan expected her to take it, but instead she just looked down at his hand and frowned, “Please.”

“Boss?” a voice surprised Negan causing him to jump. Looking back over his shoulder, he noticed that Laura was approaching him and all the color was drained from her face. The expression over her features almost made him uncomfortable the closer she got to him. “Who are you talking to?”

“What do you mean who am I talking to?” Negan was disgusted with Laura even asking him that question. Pointing toward Y/N had her eyebrows bouncing up. Laura looked in the direction he pointed before looking back to Negan again. “I think it’s kind of fucking obvious who I’m talking to.”

“You’re talking to…” Laura looked to the gate of walkers and cleared her throat uneasily. “The walkers?”

“What the fuck are you…” Negan let out an uneasy breath when a smirk tugged at Y/N’s features. If anything Laura looked concerned for Negan right now. Gazing between Y/N and Laura, Negan felt a chill running down his spine when he let out a hesitant sound. “This isn’t funny. She’s literally right here.”

“Who is?” Laura took a moment to ask after she looked around the area surrounding them. There was genuine concern in her eyes with Negan letting out an uncomfortable laugh.

“I don’t know what this is,” Negan announced nervously gazing between both women. Waving his hand about in Y/N’s direction had Laura’s lips parting and it looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t. “She’s right here. I don’t know if the two of you are doing this to get one over on me for letting this happen, but…”

“Negan,” Laura held her hand up in the air trying to get Negan to focus. Stepping forward, she grabbed a hold of Negan’s shoulders and he felt tense with her holding onto him like this. “Who am I supposed to be seeing right now?”

“Y/N. She’s right there and she’s…” Negan answered her, his voice breaking when Laura slowly released him. There was worry in her eyes with Laura looking Negan over. “I saw her in the hallways walking and then…how do you not see her she’s standing right there? This isn’t a funny joke.”

“Negan, no one is joking. I see no one. All I see is you talking to the air. It’s just you and the walkers,” Laura explained to Negan with a shake of her head. Reaching out, she curled her fingers around Negan’s wrist and nodded her head toward The Sanctuary. “Maybe I should get you to the doctor. What do you think?”

“I’m not crazy,” Negan suggested with a hesitant laugh looking down to Laura’s fingers curled around his wrist.

“Okay, you’re not crazy,” Laura held her hands up when Negan yanked his wrist from her. “You’re probably just tired. You’ve been out constantly looking for Y/N. Maybe you’re just exhausted and not getting enough sleep. How about I walk back with you to your room?”

“Fucking hell,” Negan lowered his head, pinching at the bridge of his nose. Cussing under his breath, Negan tried to gather himself. Looking again, he saw that Y/N was still standing there and she waved. “I have to be dreaming again.”

“Negan, you’re right here. You’re not sleeping,” Laura insisted, squeezing at Negan’s arm to try to comfort him. Nothing was making sense right now. It felt like the world was spinning around him and like he could throw up. “Do I need to get the doctor here to help you?”

“No. No,” Negan shook his head over and over again starting to realize what was happening here. God, he was going fucking crazy and seeing things. It felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack with the way his chest was tightening. With everything that he had just said in front of Laura, he knew that she also was going to think he was insane. Standing up straight, he dragged his hand down over the side of his face and feigned a smile. “I was actually just joking with you. That’s what this was.”

“A joke?” she repeated and Negan eagerly nodded his head. An awkward expression filled her features when Laura looked over Negan. Laura thought he was crazy. Hell, he thought he was crazy too. “Are you sure? Do you need me to stay with you?”

 “No, I just need some space,” Negan assured her with a shrug of his shoulders, shoving his hands into his pockets. Not fighting with him, Laura turned on her heel before Negan called out to her. “Laura? Could you please not tell anyone about this today?”

“Of course,” Laura muttered before heading back toward what she was doing near The Sanctuary. Hopefully she would keep her word or else it would get back to Simon and somehow he would convince everyone that he was not mentally fit to be the leader. Which meant he would lose the help that he needed to actually find Y/N.

“Do you think I look like this one right now?” Y/N’s voice spoke up and it made every muscle in Negan’s body clench. Turning to face her again, Negan could see that she was observing one of the walkers that was on the fence more thoroughly. “I figure after all the rot and body decay, this has to be what I look like right now, right?”

“Stop,” Negan demanded when she chomped her teeth together almost mimicking the walker that was before her.

“Do you think I’ve killed someone? All that blood and rot coming out of my mouth,” Y/N pointed out toward the mouth of the walker again and Negan felt his heart racing inside of his chest. A muscle in his jaw flexed with his stare becoming more serious. “Aw. Negan. Loosen up. It’s not like I’m dead or anything.”

“You’re not really here,” Negan whispered to himself, turning on his heel as he headed back toward The Sanctuary. An overwhelming sense of guilt and agony filled him again almost like the first time he lost her. More than anything he was trying to keep it together when he headed back so people didn’t see him losing it again.

“Hey. Why are you running off?” Y/N’s voice beckoned him from behind. A long, overwhelmed sound escaped his lips. When he reached for the door, he stopped when he felt her fingers wrapping around his wrist to stop him. It felt so real and a tremoring breath fell from him. “You’re leaving me again?”

Swallowing down, Negan tried to avoid looking at Y/N as he walked back into The Sanctuary. The sound of her footsteps following him were heard again, but he tried to block it out, “Typical Negan. When things get hard he runs. Abandons me. Like he always did. Just like you did that night. Leaving me in that small town all alone.”

“Shut up!” Negan finally erupted, turning on his heel and it had everyone in the hallway jumping. Everyone looked around trying to figure out who he was talking to, but they just likely assumed that they were making too much noise so they all went silent. A smirk tugged at Y/N’s features when he swiftly started making it back up the stairs. When he almost reached the bedroom, he came to a stop when he noticed Y/N was still following him. Making sure he was alone, Negan surveyed the hallway before turning to look at her. “I need whatever this is to stop. I’m about to go be with our children and I can’t be having a mental break in front of them. Please. Leave me alone.”

“So now you want to get rid of me?” she was offended when Negan reached for the door again and pushed into it. An annoyed breath fell from Negan’s throat when she pushed through with him. Sitting at the center of the bed was Evie and Nathan staring up at him with big eyes. Closing the door, Negan stood before his children and felt like his entire body was on fire.

“I need to take a shower,” Negan announced, his voice raspier than normal. “Maybe after we do that, the three of us can go for a walk around outside before I go out looking again tonight.”

“That’d be nice,” Evie nodded her head, but she seemed worried with the way that Negan looked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Negan assured her, looking back toward the door to see that Y/N was leaning back against it. Heading for the bathroom, Negan stopped and swallowed down loudly. Everything felt so surreal right now. Negan didn’t know if he hadn’t had enough sleep or if something weird was actually going on. He really felt like he was having a mental breakdown. Especially since he could see Y/N standing there like she was perfectly okay, yet no one else could. “Evie? Do you see your mother?”

“What do you mean?” Evie replied back, unsure how to answer. Holding his finger up toward the door, Negan noticed that he was shaking an incredibly large amount when Y/N looked over toward their children that were sitting down on the bed together. Evie gazed over at the area that Negan was pointing at and worry began to flood her young features, “Are you asking me if I see her there? I don’t see anything daddy.”  

“I meant,” Negan whimpered, licking his lips when he shakily lowered his hand. He didn’t even know why he asked her that. He knew that Y/N wasn’t really there. That was when his eyes started burning over. He broke. He finally broke. Something was seriously wrong with him because he was seeing someone that wasn’t there. “I meant in your sleep.”

“Oh, yeah. Sometimes,” Evie didn’t know how to answer when she reached for a toy that Nathan was outstretching his hand out to grab. Helping him, she played with Nathan in attempts to keep him calm. “Daddy, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Negan lied reaching up to wipe at his face when he started crying. At this point, he couldn’t hold back on his emotions. They were just coming whether he wanted them to or not. Taking in a deep breath, he pointed toward the bathroom again and nodded. “I’m going to shower.”

Making a quick escape, Negan stumbled into the bathroom and kicked out of his boots. Heading for the shower, he turned the water on and dropped his head forward. Counting to himself, he tried to get himself to calm down when he started crying again. Stealing another look back, Negan could see that Y/N was still there and she was in the bathroom with him. It felt like the air was being stolen from his lungs and the room was spinning.

“You can’t just block me out Negan,” she declared drawing him to lower down onto the ground. Pulling himself into the shower, he remained fully clothed when he started breaking down again. The water was freezing and it hurt like hell with it pouring down in over his flesh, but he was punishing himself. Rocking back and forth, Negan covered his head when he heard her sigh. “Negan?”

Covering his ears, Negan slammed his eyes shut in hopes that he would be able to pull himself from this because this was only hurting him more. God knows how long he was in there before he felt hands pressing in over his shoulders. Lifting his head up, he saw that Evie was knelt down in front of him. When she felt how cold he was, she scrambled for the shower to turn it off.

“What are you doing?” Negan questioned watching Evie scramble to grab a towel to wrap it around him. “Evie?”

“I heard you crying,” Evie informed him with worry in her eyes. Trying to tug on his hands, she was eager to get him out of the shower, but he wouldn’t budge. “Daddy, I need you to get up. You’re freezing. You need to change and…”

Even though he knew he was doing everything wrong, Negan was locked inside himself. Everything hurt and he felt like he was dying. Reality was really starting to sink in for him and he hated everything right now. He was broken and it was a broken that you couldn’t fix.

“Daddy please,” Evie begged, struggling to get Negan up, but he wouldn’t budge. “Daddy get up.”

With a final unsuccessful tug, Evie fell back onto her bottom and let out a defeated sound. Tears swelled up in her eyes seeing her father having a complete and total breakdown in front of her, “You’re not the only one that lost her!”

A whimper fell from Negan’s throat when she threw her hands up in the air, Evie’s cries filling the bathroom when she stared out at him with pain in her eyes, “We lost mom. And if you keep up with the way you are acting we are going to lose you too. You’re not the only one that lost her dad. You only just got her back. She was with us the whole time. And she was a good mom. So please. Please. You have to stop.”

“I’m sorry,” Negan’s voice was broken when he shakily got up to his knees and threw his hands up in the air. There was an ache that would likely never go away. He was heartbroken and he didn’t know how to stop it. “I’m so sorry. I just…I don’t know what to do. I hurt. It hurts so much and…”

Dropping his head down, Negan’s hands braced on the ground when his sobs started to fill the air again. Getting up, Evie slid forward to wrap her arms around Negan while he cried. Shakily, he lifted his arms to wrap her up in a hug. Hell, he couldn’t explain to her what was going on right now, but he knew he needed to start faking it for the children. She was right. He was all they had and he had to figure things out. If not for himself, he needed to do it for them.

----

It had been another rough few weeks. Anyone who saw Negan likely knew that he was a fucking disaster right now. It was rare that he made a public appearance in The Sanctuary lately. Instead he had other people running things for him. He was unkept. Still broken and depressed. His hair was messy and longer than normal. His beard was longer and he just wore whatever the hell was comfortable. Every day he still went out searching for Y/N, but he found nothing. By this point he had pretty much given up completely. There was no sense in searching for someone who was so obviously gone. And someday soon he knew that he was going to have to stop it all together.

One of the only positives was that when he was here, he was spending all of his time with Evie and Nathan. He imagined that was something that Y/N would have liked about this. Then again, she probably wouldn’t have liked it all that much since he promised her that he would be going to the farm with the children and he hadn’t done that yet.

Lifting his eyes from where he was seated on the bed with Nathan, Negan could see that Evie was still working on whatever it was that she had been for a while now. Since Evie found Negan in the shower like she had, things had been awkward between them. Negan knew that she saw the broken pieces of him. It made things uncomfortable. Truthfully? They were both so fucked up over losing Y/N. They were both broken and there was no fixing it. The only thing that could fix it was Y/N and they were both coming to terms with the fact that she was never coming back. Well, in the physical sense for Negan at least.

He kept it to himself, but Negan was still seeing Y/N. Daily. Thankfully, right now she was nowhere to be found and that made him happy. Every time she showed up, he had a meltdown and he knew it. It was something he couldn’t explain to Evie, so he likely came off snappy whenever she’d ask him about it. Negan felt like a freak and there was nothing he could do to change that. If this was the normal world, he could get help, but the world wasn’t what it used to be. He couldn’t get help. If he went to the doctor here, it was just a doctor. Not a psychiatrist. And if he did ask for help, somehow it would get out to Simon or someone else that didn’t have faith in him and he would lose everything. He couldn’t lose everything right now. Not when he still needed the resources.

“Do you know what this is?” Negan pointed toward the image in the book that he was reading to Nathan. Every day he was trying to help Nathan become more comfortable with talking and learning things. He knew that Y/N insisted that he was smart, but he didn’t want people to think that there was something wrong with Nathan, so he was working with him.

“A dog,” Nathan was excited to answer, lifting his head up to get praise from Negan who nodded slowly. “A brown one.”

“Yes it is,” Negan watched Nathan flipping the next page while he stroked his fingers through Nathan’s hair. Nathan was cuddled up beside him while they worked together. It was something Negan honestly tried to do every day. He had someone working with both Nathan and Evie, but he was putting a lot of work into helping Nathan. “And what about this?”

“A bed!” Nathan’s voice was high pitched, but it made Negan happy that he started to get Nathan talking more.

“What about the color?” Negan tapped on the page and it was one where Nathan had to think about things. “You got this.”

“Red?” Nathan’s eyebrows furrowed, his facial expression showing that he was unsure. Nodding slowly had Nathan giggling when he looked to the book again.

“Good boy,” Negan praised Nathan on getting something right again. The sound of Evie moving her chair caught their attention when they finished with the book, but Negan was still eager to get Nathan talking again. Setting the book aside, Negan tapped at Nathan’s nose and it had Nathan rocking back with laughter. “What’s this?”

“My nose daddy,” Nathan pushed Negan’s hand aside with a big belly giggle when Negan started tickling at Nathan’s stomach. The uncontrollable laughter fell from Nathan’s throat with the way that Negan was playing with him and it had Negan smiling. Probably for the first time in a long time. “Stop!”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Negan lowered down to pepper kisses against Nathan’s face. It had happy sounds filling the air which lightened the mood of everything. It made Negan happy in some way that Nathan was too young to understand that Y/N was gone. Between Negan and Evie there was so much sadness, but with Nathan there was still a sense of purity and innocence. He was happy still and Negan needed that right now. Finally stopping, Negan saw the happy tears at the corner of Nathan’s eyes when Negan rest back on his elbow. “Okay, what about your name?”

“Hey daddy,” Evie called out with an excited breath trying to get Negan’s attention, but he held his finger up motioning her to wait. Arching his eyebrow up, Negan was looking to Nathan expectantly while Nathan grabbed a hold of his toes. “Daddy?”

“Hold on Evie,” Negan requested, his attention locked on Nathan. When Nathan didn’t answer, Negan reached out to playfully stroke his fingers through his son’s hair to mess it. Having Negan ignoring her had the smile fading from her face while Negan played with Nathan. “I know you know this answer. Don’t try to fool your daddy.”

“It will just be a second,” Evie spoke up once more with uncertainty in her tone. Looking to what she had been working on, she pushed it out toward the center of the table in hopes that she could catch Negan’s attention. “Daddy?”

“Nathan,” Nathan finally answered, his pronunciation of the word a bit broken since it was still a little hard for him.

“And how old are you?” Negan pushed after clapping his hands together. The lines in his forehead grew with his dimples becoming more prominent while he watched his son closely. “How old?”

“I’m three!” Nathan responded and Negan inhaled deeply before shaking his head. “No?”

“Not yet. Almost though!” Negan reasoned with his son, grabbing a hold of Nathan’s hands to wiggle his arms. “You’re still two!”

“Oh!” Nathan’s mouth made a big circle shape and it had Negan snickering.

“What’s this?” Negan reached for Nathan’s toes, bringing Nathan’s foot up so he could blow raspberries at the bottom of his son’s foot. It had Nathan hollering out in laughter which had Negan laughing too.

“Mine,” Nathan pulled his foot back away from Negan making Negan feel some sense of joy with how enthusiastic Nathan was being. “Toes.”

“Good boy,” Negan cheered on his son before pointing toward his own chest. “Who am I?”

“My daddy,” Nathan almost squeaked out in enthusiasm reaching out to sink his fingers into Negan’s hair. Pulling Negan close, Nathan kissed at Negan’s cheek before Negan started to return the gesture. Peppering kisses over Nathan’s face, Negan tickled at his son’s abdomen while they laughed together.

“Daddy?” Evie called out again after allowing Negan some time with Nathan, but this time Negan didn’t even give her a response when he pointed at Nathan’s chest again.

“So how old are you again?” Negan wanted to get Nathan to say it right this time.

“Two,” Nathan had the right answer this time and Negan threw his hands up in the air to cheer on his son.

“That’s right!” Negan gave a proud nod and he was being dramatic with the way that he was saying things hoping to get Nathan excited to learn. Reaching for Nathan, Negan pulled him in close to give him a big hug, making silly noises when they played together.

“Hey daddy, can I just…” Evie began trying to get her father’s attention if only for a moment.

“Evie!” Negan snapped when he heard Evie calling out to him again, his eyebrows furrowed showing that he was angry with her trying to get his attention as he lifted his head up to stare out at her. “I asked you to give me a goddamn minute. Fuck! When I’m ready for you, I will let you know. You don’t have to keep saying my name. I heard you the first fucking time.”

After he said that, Negan immediately regretted it when he saw her face turn a light shade of red. The expression she gave showed that he hurt her feelings before she dropped her head down. Sitting up, Negan went to say something, but he didn’t know what to say with her face growing a deeper shade of red. Nathan crawled into Negan’s lap in attempts to continue to try to play with him. Clearing his throat, Negan looked to Nathan who was playing with Negan’s fingers and Negan could feel a lump growing in his throat with Evie’s reaction to him yelling at her.

Dropping her pencil, Evie pushed the paper that she was working on even further out away from her in an unhurried movement. By her expression, Negan could tell that she was doing everything she could to hold back on crying with her head lowered.

“What do you want, Evie?” Negan finally spoke, adjusting Nathan in his lap noticing the way that her fingers curled around the edge of the table. There was a single tear that slid down her face and it made Negan feel guilty. “Evie?”

“Never mind. It’s not important anyways. It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry,” she sniffled, pushing her chair further away from the table. Lifting her hand, she wiped at her face with the back of it and Negan knew he should have been saying something, but he didn’t. “Can I please go to the bathroom?”

“Evie,” Negan frowned lifting one of his hands to bury his head into his palm realizing that he just upset his daughter.

“Please,” she begged still keeping her head tipped away from him because she didn’t want him to see her upset.

“Of course honey, you don’t have to ask me that,” Negan tried speaking softly to her since he knew he fucked up with the way he yelled at her. Swiftly she stood up from the table and was quick to run into the bathroom. The sound of the fan turning on was heard and he knew that she did that to likely hide from him that she was crying from what he had done. With a frown, Negan curled his arm tightly around Nathan to pull him close. Standing up, Negan brought Nathan with him when he headed over toward the table to look at what Evie obviously had been calling him over for. Grabbing what he realized was a drawing, he pulled it up to see that it was him playing with Nathan on the bed that she had drew. “Fuck.”

For a ten-year-old, it was actually incredibly well done. There was no questioning that Evie had a real talent for art. Even this early on it was obvious. He remembered when she was little how she was drawing all the time. He thought he got her started on that since he always used to doodle and draw. But this was beyond anything he had seen her do in the past.

Letting out a hiss, he looked back over his shoulder at the bathroom door wishing he would have never snapped at her like that. She was just excited to show him something that she had done and it was probably something that she was proud of.

“Good job,” Y/N’s voice was heard from the other side of the room. Looking toward the couch, Negan felt a pain at the center of his chest and he huffed when he saw her sitting there. So much for having a day without seeing her. “You’re really working on getting father of the year. Aren’t you?”

“Please, not now,” Negan begged, lifting his free hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose in hopes of getting this to stop. “I can’t take this right now.”

“Well excuse me,” she breathed out, throwing her hands up dramatically when she leaned back against the couch as if to get comfortable. Why Negan was seeing her truly drove him mad, but he was hoping that he would stop having these visions, not that she would keep coming back. “You make our daughter cry and I’m just supposed to keep my mouth shut? You’re really dropping the ball with Evie, Negan. You’re her favorite and you’re ruining her relationship with you.”

“I’m not,” Negan reasoned with her, noticing that Nathan was looking up at him confused since Negan was ultimately talking to thin air. Hopefully Nathan thought he was talking to himself instead of picking up on his weird habits. “I snapped at her one time. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that,” she put her feet up on the coffee table when Negan headed for the bed to sit down with Nathan. He wanted to keep working with Nathan, hoping to block out Y/N. “So you’re just going to let her cry in the bathroom?”

“I have two children. When she’s ready for me to talk to her, she will come out,” Negan reasoned handing over one of the toys that he had gotten with Y/N from that store from the night everything happened to Nathan. “I can’t stop paying attention to Nathan just because she’s crying. I also need to allow her the right to her privacy. She’s in the bathroom, she doesn’t want me in there with her.”

“She’s starting to think that Nathan is your favorite,” Y/N spoke up having Negan grumbling under his breath. “You’re barely talking to her and interacting with her. You’re spending all of your free time with Nathan. And when you are with her, she’s taking care of you. You’re not acting like her father, Negan. Being a father was the thing you did best and you’re failing.”

“No, I’m a good father,” Negan corrected, his eyes lifting up angrily from where he was seated on the bed with Nathan. “I’ve been spending all of my time with both of them. I’m being a good father. I’m looking for their mother and I’m doing my best.”

Hearing the sound of the bathroom door opening, Negan watched as Evie walked beyond the table instead of going back to her drawing. Sadness flooded his body when he saw her drop down on the opposite couch that he had been seeing Y/N on. Evie turned and faced the back of the couch after grabbing a pillow to hold onto it.

“You’re not going to go back and finish working on what you were doing?” Negan inquired, speaking loud enough to let Evie know that he was talking to her.

“It’s crap anyways,” Evie retorted with a sigh, squeezing the pillow tightly in her arms.

“I can’t imagine anything you do is crap,” Negan didn’t know if he should tell her that he looked at the drawing or not since she had run off after everything. “Do you want to show me what you were working on?”

“You don’t want to see it,” Evie replied back and Negan could tell that he had upset her. “Just keep playing with Nathan.”

“I’m sure Nathan and I would love to see what you were working on,” Negan suggested feigning a smile in hopes that she would look at him, but she wasn’t. Brushing his fingers through Nathan’s hair, Negan could see that Nathan was preoccupied with the toy Negan gave him and Negan stood up from the bed. Heading over to Evie, Negan knelt down and caressed his fingers over her shoulder. “Hey…listen…”

A long exhale fell from his throat when he tried to get Evie to look at him, but he could hear her crying still which meant she was fighting looking at him, “I didn’t mean to yell at you Evie, I was just…”

The sound of a knock on the door was heard and it made Negan huff out loudly. The person at the other end didn’t wait as the door pushed open, “What?”

“Gregory is going to be stopping by in about an hour,” Simon informed Negan, grasping tightly to the door while he stared out at Negan from across the room. “Apparently he has information about something that is going on with Rick and the rest of the crew. It’s life and death according to him. So I suggest you clean up and get ready because you are going to be at that meeting.”

“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Negan declared with a frown hating to hear that he was being demanded of something when he was about to make up with his daughter. Well, at least try to. “It can wait.”

“No Negan, it can’t,” Simon snarled at Negan, moving further into the room when he threw his hands up in the air. “He said life or death. So I suggest you take it seriously because that means it could effect the lives of everyone here. Including your children. So if you care about your children, you will get up, get ready and be prepared for that fucking meeting in an hour.”

“Got it,” Negan grumbled under his breath. For once, this did actually seem like a big deal. Once Simon left, Negan looked back to Evie who was still facing the back of the couch. “Evie?”

“Don’t worry about it dad,” she whispered quietly, but he still managed to hear her. “You have more important things to deal with right now. Go do whatever you have to do.”

“Baby,” Negan frowned realizing that Simon coming in and telling him what he did wasn’t going to fix anything when it came to Evie. They should have been having a discussion where he apologized and she had his full attention. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she was still hurt and Negan knew that.

“Listen. Daddy is gonna go get cleaned up for this meeting. After it’s over, how about while Nathan is taking his nap you and I watch a movie together? Maybe we can set this area up, get someone to make some popcorn for us. Get some snacks. What do you say?” Negan caressed over Evie’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” she breathed out with Negan leaning forward to press a kiss over her temple. He wished she would have said more, but he hurt her. There was no denying that.

Even though he didn’t have any passion in what was happening, Negan took a shower. Cut his hair. Trimmed his beard. Put on the leather jacket, slicked back his hair and pretended. He feigned that smile and that arrogance. He went down to that meeting and did what he had to do. He put on his show. That’s what he always did. But when Rick showed up? Well that’s when everything changed.

At this point in his life he had dropped things with Rick in the name of finding Y/N. But when he was shot in the leg and they shot out the windows of The Sanctuary. That’s when this became personal. That’s when he knew that he had to start focusing on finishing this war. Rick and his crew put his children in danger and Negan didn’t even know if they were okay.

Pacing to the side of the small trailer that he was trapped in, Negan felt the overwhelming heat surrounding him. Trying to look through the small cracks of the boarded-up windows of the trailer, he found himself in a sense of panic. He didn’t even know if his children were okay. And the last thing he did was hurt his daughter’s feelings. More than anything he was scared. Scared if he would make it back to his children. And he was left wondering if they were all right. Now, Negan was going to have to end this war once and for all before he could make the world right for his children. Because Rick made this personal when he involved his children in the danger he was bringing down on Negan and The Sanctuary. And he wasn’t okay with that.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @felicity291 @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @neganswoman @ravenrose18

#Negan #Negan x reader #Negan fanfiction #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #negan x you #Negan Smith

[dahliarosebud]

- Love Is A War Series ~ Aemond x Reader

• Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

• HOTD MASTER-LIST

• FANDOMS-MASTER-LIST

Warnings: threats, mentioned sh, mentioned sh scars, child neglect, themes of child abuse, child loss, still birth, funerals, grief

Synopsis: Once returned to Dragon Stone you are faced with the same fate falling predicament all those years ago only this time you are forced to chose loyalty to your family or loyalty to love.

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I paced my room. The once wonderous halls of Dragon Stone now just as dull as King’s Landing. Pacing and pacing and pacing. Book heavy in my hands as I weighed all my previous actions. Was it worth it? Was he worth it? 

I felt a mellowed anger. Anger towards my father. Anger towards Aemond. Jace and Luke had looked so betrayed not even my sisters could bare to look at me and yet, even with their faces before me the flash of their faces from the night that caused the conflict my heart still beat with his. I stopped, throwing my book onto my bed watching as it bounced slightly.

I jumped, turning my head at the click of the lock of my door - my father had locked me in here.

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  His hand tightly wrapped around my arm as Rhaenyra followed after us as best as she could, “Daemon she is young, she doesn’t understand.” her voice called out too my father and still it fell on deaf ears. He threw my doors open the arm holding me tossed me into my room. I fell to the floor pain swimming through my thigh. 

“And yet she is old enough to whore around with the enemy.” I swallowed, tears brimming my eyes. He walked over to me, crouching down to my level, “you will never see him again do you understand?” His lip curled the cold sneer brushing my nose - I turned my head away.

 I fell onto my hands as his fingers clasped around my jaw pulling my face towards him again, “Do. You. Understand?” I stared into his eyes searching for any sign of remorse, but they were cold, blood thirsty, furious. He opened his mouth mockingly as if begging me to say the words and I did... 

“Yes sir, I understand...” His eyes travelled across my face trying to find any kind of sign of disobedience, but all he found was fear. 

“Good.”

Finally the tears fell with the clicking of a lock.

---------------

Fear choked me as I stared with wide eyes at the door, my heart hammering against the cage of ribs in my chest. I held my breath as the door opened only for the hammering to stop and my breathing regulate.

 Relief removing the strangling fingers of fear. 

“Y/n,” my grandmother breathed opening her arms. I ran towards her with a sob. She shushed me and brushed her fingers through my hair slowly shuffling us to perch on the end of my bed. “Oh my sweet girl,” she lulled into my hair. 

I inhaled her scent squeezing my eyes shut, willing the world to disappear, my mind going back to how she comforted me like this the day...the day of my mother’s funeral. 

“I love him,” I whispered into her chest-plate only now noticing that she was in her armour. The cold metal cooling my warm tears. “I’m sorry.” I felt her nod in consideration. Taking it all in.

She pulled away, her thumbs brushing away my tears as sad tight lipped smile on her face. “Y/n I have come to tell you something.” Her hands left my face moving to grab mine, squeezing my hands gently to which I nodded ready for the information.

“Viserys has passed,” I looked at her eyes widening opening my mouth only to get stopped by her pointed stare, “Queen Alicent has had Aegon claim the Iron Throne, he was crowned before the masses, he is now King. The Queen had confined me to my quarters however I escaped.” I sat mouth slightly agape in shock. What does this mean for Rhaenyra? For my family? What about-

“Before you ask, your lover, Aemond, stood amongst his family during the coronation. The Greens intend to take Westeros do you know what this mean?” Her eyes searched mine. My mind was reeling. My heart back to being a mutated humming bird, pounding against my chest begging for release.

I looked back up at her, her expression mirrored mine, “War,” I said voice hoarse, throat scratchy and burning uncomfortably: from crying. I lifted my head, the expression going slack at the sound of Rhaenyra’s screams, the baby is coming. Just like my mother, only she wasn’t my mother.

“Yes. The war your father is currently planning,” she chewed her lip in distaste. My eyebrows rose in  realisation as the anger began to return. Fury enveloped me, my fists clenching and unclenching the skirt of my dress.

“You mean he isn’t with Rhaenyra?” Rhaenys shook her head. I stood from my bed, brushing down the skirt of my dress, fetching the sword from the corner of my room along with the dagger Rhaenyra had gifted me using the brown leather sword belt that was snug around my waist. “He never learns.”

I rushed down the halls, running down the stairs into the war room; dull grey rock pasing by the melancholy world that I only just came to realise was the true world I currently lived in. A burning, wicked world.

The huge room had many people in it all gathered around the large wooden table, carved with the map of Westeros, my father stood at the head of the table giving orders, looking like a true war-lord. 

I stood a bit away from the group, my head raised, “Father,” I shouted over to him. He stopped mid sentence eyes meeting mine, his hand wafting off the minor inconvenience that seemed to have been pestering. 

“Ah, well if it isn’t my traitor of a daughter, I’m assuming Rhaenys released you from your room,” I titled my head to the side biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself, “come along daughter, Jacaerys I’ll show you what real loyalty is.” I jolted at the mention of Jace turning go look at the younger who stood beside me, I hadn’t even noticed him.

“Jace-”I started only for him to turn away and follow my father out of castle. I sighed following after them, leaving the warm chilling walls of Dragon Stone to the freezing lapping winds of the sea air.

We stopped on a hill. Two members of the King’s Guard stood below us. The wind whistled in our ears, all exchanging looks as we awaited my father’s words. Jace stood next to me yet, as far away as he could, eyes never meeting mine. I deserve it.

“You swore an oath as knights of King’s Guard,” My father started, I felt the anxiety craw back in, taunting me, joyous at the way it affects me. I am weak. I looked out to my right. The grand castle seems dull, its dark grey casted with a white mist. The old rock seemed sturdy, yet ready to crumble all at once. 

“As do all who wear the white cloak, my Prince.” One of the men replied, I could tell they were nervous to even from where I was standing. Time seemed to drag on, the rocks of the ledge Jacaerys and I stood on dug uncomfortably into the soles of my feet, my hands clenching and unclenching in uncertainty. Nails begging desperately to be dug in, scraping teasingly across the half-moon patterned palms of my hands.

“To whom?” My eyes drifted from the two men to my father. He stood proud. Blonde hair weaving with the eerily calm wind. I sore how he shifted from one leg to another in impatience. Hands forever pressed to the tip of the pummel of Dark Sister. 

“I swore first to King Jaehaerys, my Prince. And then to His Grace, King Viserys, when he succeeded him.” The darker haired man answered. 

“Do you acknowledge the true line of succession?” My father questioned, strong and proud never unwavering - the man I’ve idolised, looked up to all my life.

“Yes.”

“Yes, my Prince.” They both responded in unison. Hands tightening around their helmets in an unquenched fear, no not fear....unknown. My father turned and looked at me then at Jace, taking a breath of the spiking sea air that left your throat sore.

“Do you recall...who King Viserys named as his heir before his death?” My father pursed his lips in mocking thought as though he was weighing their responses. Begging one of them to answer wrong. Daring them to.

“Princess Rhaenyra,” the one closest answered with confidence in his Queen. My father nodded in acknowledgement. The whisper of my father’s hum of consideration carried by the wind rang in my ears. The anxiety coursing through me feeding off of it in a mellow drum with in my head.

“I’m grateful for your long service to the crown. So I’m presenting you with a choice,” Caraxes screeched and I heard Jace hold his breath. the red dragon sauntered from behind the rocks a threatening sneer on its naturally curled lip, his long neck twisting, face moving closer to the two men, before it bellowed a whistling roar,  the two men stepped back in fear,

 “Swear anew your oath to Rhaenyra as your Queen...to Prince Jacaerys as the heir to the Iron Throne. Or...if you support the usurpers speak it now...and you will have a clean and honourable death. But if you chose treachery if you swear now only later turn your cloaks...know that you will die...screaming.”

Each pause was like an unspoken threat. 

My father smiled as they bent the knee and recited their vows. His hands pressing further into the pummel of his sword. I turned my head seeing Jacaerys release the breath he seemingly held when Caraxes appeared. Turning his head, his eyes meeting mine. I nodded before my eyes turned downcast at the unclarity on his face.

I jumped at the pained screech of Syrax in the Dragon keep just bellow us. It echoed and the ground all but shook, stones quivering on the rock we stood on. I stared forward my eyes stinging, unblinking watching as the waves overlapped each other, licking at the pebbled shore. I listened at the crunch of all the men around walking away, the two King’s - now Queen’ - guards legs still wobbly. I stayed, stood on the rock, I could’t move I could hardly breathe.

The sun began to drop, the waves crashing heavier in the distance. Orange lit the water aflame. I sniffed as my father returned his shoulders dropped no longer strong and reformed almost broken and some sick twisted part of me enjoyed seeing him as a broken man. Tongue in cheek. My teeth ground together as he fell to his knees, sword embedded into the smoothed pebbles. Shoulders shaking in grief, cries unheard - the ocean weeps with him. 

Too late once. Too late again. Forever late.

Funerals after funerals after funerals. That is what to expect in life, in war. I daren’t shed a tear.. I daren’t breathe or speak or comfort. I just walked away leaving my father to weep.

My room now cold like the rest of Dragon Stone embers no longer keep it warm. A black dress already played out prepared. It was long, sweeping the ground rubies lining the waist, gold detailing encircled around the fabric, a black cloak heavy on my shoulders. 

Metal men followed me out to join those stood at the highest point of Dragon stone. The garment-ed table sat upfront my father and Rhaenyra stood shielding the bundle away from the prying eyes of ‘mourners’. I walked to stand next to Baela the sound of heavy armour falling behind. The wind has settled some, the sky brandishing the burning of a dragon’s flame as Rhaenyra whispered the words, Syrax setting the small bundle alight.

Rhaenyrs stayed watching the flame as my father watched her face for anything. An eerie silence settled amongst all, my heart squeezed painfully. Baela and Rhaena huddled together, close for comfort. No one moved, not even when a white cloak past, we all just watched awaiting my father’s judgement. The two Queen’s guard drew their swords my father walking up, hands always rested on the pummel of Dark Sister ready ti be drawn at any moment. 

“I mean no harm, brothers.” The man was calm as he walked towards my father, helmet now removed settling to one knee as he reached into the satchel that sat on his hip. The crown pulled out for all to gape at. Rhaenyra finally turned, face unchanged, pink from the biting cold. 

The man’s hands produced the crown toward Rhaenyra reciting the oath the same as his brothers only a little time ago. My father plucking it from the man, staring down at the Targaryen sigil welded at the front before looking up his eyes boring into my sisters’ and I’s. It was almost ant agonisingly slow as he walked up to his wife.

Gently the crown was placed upon Rhaenyra’s head. My father knelt head dropping in devotion, loyalty. Rhaenyra stared out eyes drifting amongst her followers as they all knelt before her. My sisters moving quickly to follow suit, no hesitation. 

And yet I still stood. I could practically feel the golden sun on my chest begin to sear into my flesh. My chest stuttered, air caught in unmoving lungs. I looked down to my sisters then to Jace, Luke and Joffrey all bowing. My family. I sank to one knee, heart pounding, lungs finally releasing the breath that fluttered against their walls. I turned to look at my grandmother that stood behind me the smile on her face, pride.

I pressed my forehead to my knee.

#dahliarosebud #hotd x reader #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targeryan #DAD DAEMON #y/n targaryen #baela targaryen #rhaena velaryon #jacerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #joffrey velaryon #rhaenys #daemon x laena #daemon x rhaenyra #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #queens guard #queen rhaenyra #house of the dragon #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #dragon stone #love is a war #hotd season 1 #aemond x reader

[pullhisteeth]

hi! i don’t know if you take requests or are taking requests, but i was wondering if you could write a little something about reader telling eddie she loves him for the first time or vice versa. i always feel like eddie would cry upon hearing that someone loved him back but idk. alsoooo maybe a little smut if you’re feeling up for it 👀

(if you’re not taking requests then please disregard this lol i just love your writing 💕)

xxx

thank you for the request my love! I adored writing this - I got very very carried away (it's over 3k words lol). I hope it's what you were after. and thank you so much for being so kind! you're the best <3

contains smut so 18+! minors dni.

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Lover's Lake is quiet at this time of night. It's the best place to see the stars over Hawkins, and Eddie knows this. He also knows you'd die for the night sky; you've spent enough night-time drives with your head stuck out the passenger seat window to get a better view. He's considered sawing a hole out of the roof of the van just so you can lie in the back and stare up at the sky while he drives.

That'd be stupid, of course, but you have a habit of sending Eddie stupid.

It's so quiet out here that you should be completely at peace. Instead, all you can hear is the blood rushing past your ears; you feel the throb of your heart in your fingertips and the warmth of Eddie behind you is like a bonfire on your back.

"You okay?"

His mouth is right by your ear, and his breath brushes your hair and inflames the skin beneath your jaw. Your back is to his chest, his arms around your waist, the two of you perched in the doorway at the back of his van with your legs dangling over the bumper.

You hum in response, confident he'll hear you since his chin's resting on your shoulder.

"Are you?" you whisper.

"Never been better," he whispers back, punctuating with a kiss to the space under your ear. You feel his sly smile when you shiver.

It's early September. Hawkins is warm, summer ebbing away slower than usual, and you're coming out the other side of a summer that makes your head spin if you think about it too hard.

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, shifting behind you. His arms relent their grip on you, so you turn. Even in the depths of this summer night, skin flushed by the lingering heat and Eddie's affection, you don't dare look him in the eye.

"What?" you ask, eyes dancing around the floor beneath him.

"Look at me," he says, voice firm. You do, ignoring the wild hammering inside your chest, against all your better judgement because it's Eddie, and you'd do anything for him.

"Are you okay? Really?" he asks, and the crack in his voice sends you reeling. With eyes all sad and brows turned down, he looks at you, imploring.

You move quick, legs swung up into the van so you can move over to him on your knees. He's moved himself away from you and you're not sure why, but you are sure that you despise the space between you.

Settled on your knees about two feet away from him, you say, "So okay. Why?"

"Your heart's beating like a fuckin' timebomb, sugar."

"Oh," you breathe. He's trapped you, and there's only one way out of this. 

You reach your arms out to bridge the gap, making stupid grabby hands that he can't help but laugh at. He takes them and pulls you in, helping you lift your knees over his legs, arms returning to their rightful place around your middle. On his shoulder you rest your cheek, mouth close to his neck but not touching it, and you wind your arms around his back.

"I love you," you murmur, scared that if you say it too loud something cataclysmic could happen. Hawkins can't take another chasm.

You feel him relax under your hands. It's as though the muscles are sighing, settling back into their usual spaces. You realise he'd been tense beneath you and you breathe out as you feel him go limp.

But he doesn't say anything. You push yourself off of him to look at him but he turns his head to the side so you can't see him.

As if that's gonna work, you think, bringing your fingers up to trace the side of his jaw you can't see. In fact, his whole face is obscured by his hair. You frown, concerned.

"Eddie, baby," you coo, voice low and soft. "You gotta look at me."

On your wrist you feel the long, slow breath out of his nose. Though you can't see him you know what he's doing - when the nightmares got particularly bad in June you'd taught him this technique, a way to slow his heart and stop his mind racing. Close your eyes, breathe in, breathe out.

It turns your stomach to think he feels like that now.

Your fingers on his face don't apply any force. You're willing him to turn to you on his own, hoping desperately that this isn't the end, that you didn't just ruin this.

You hear the blood more than ever now. It reminds you of the way you feel after sex with Eddie, after he's taken care of you so many times in a handful of hours that it barely feels like your skeleton is holding itself together. You never imagined you'd be the kind of person to have a summer fling, always thought that was something that happened in the movies, to people like Danny and Sandy, but in May you'd found yourself in Eddie Munson's bed and by July you'd fallen deep, deep into the abyss you've come to know is love.

The more the seconds pass, you two sat in stillness in the back of his van like this, the more you convince yourself that for him, this was just that. A fling.

Finally, you feel him stir and his breath falter. And then he turns slowly, a hand rubbing down his face, and as he does you brush the hair out of his face. Your own breath hitches when you see his eyes.

His gaze is fixed downwards, but you can still see that he's all red and wet. There are smudged tears around his lashes. It takes everything in you not to kiss them away.

"Eddie?"

You reach your hand to mirror the other, holding his head in two palms. He brings his own around your wrists where he holds them, gentle but firm, thumb swirling circles into the skin.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, and you watch as his eyes rise to meet yours. You damn near kill him when they do, your face all soft and sad. He wants to fix it.

"No, shit, babe, you don't have to be sorry." His voice is as wet as his face, thick like treacle, words like cotton wool.

"But-"

"I love you," he says. His voice is louder than before, cutting you off mid-plea, though it's still full of affection. "But it scares me."

"Why?" You tilt your head like a sad puppy and Eddie all but combusts on the spot.

He does it again - closes his eyes, breathes in, breathes out - and then says, words wavering but intentional: "No one has ever told me they love me before."

You can't help the sharp breath you take in at his words. It seems to take your brain a moment to catch up, and it's Eddie's nervous chuckle that draws you back.

"You're serious?" you say, completely unable to compute what he's said.

"Uh, yeah."

"Oh, Eds," you breathe, a whine, hovering your lips close to his face. You kiss his cheek three times, then his nose and the space between his eyebrows. His eyes flutter shut under your touch, your palms still either side of his face and his own hands still clutching your wrists. "I love you," you tell him again with a kiss to his brow. "I love you," with a kiss to his temple. "I love you," with a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He laughs, and asks, "what are you doing?"

"Making up for it."

His fingers clench tighter around your arms and you pretend that you don't feel the jolt to your centre at the pressure.

"What?"

"Making up for the 23 years you've not had people telling you they love you." Kiss. "'Cos they do, y'know." Kiss. "Just have a weird way of saying it." Kiss. "So I'm telling you: I love you."

He manages to catch your lips with his own and kisses you back, deep and moved by warm, syrupy love.

"I love you, too," he says again, mouth on yours. He moves down your jaw, peppering kisses along it and down the column of your throat. His fingers on your wrist were already sending you dizzy in your post-anxious haze, but now you know where this is going. You know that he knows what this does to you, and when he makes for your collarbones you're sure you're a goner. 

The lock of his fingers releases and he traces them down your forearm until they settle on your waist, skirting the hem of your top. The sensation of them on your skin there, on the hollow of your sides, sends jolts down your spine and between your thighs, where you squirm in an attempt to relieve at least some of the tension.

To distract yourself, you raise your arms, a signal that he should lift your shirt. He pulls the fabric up and over your head, laughing softly with you when it gets caught in your hair.

Eddie has seen you naked more times than you can count since May. The first time, he was a nervous wreck, mind half on not tearing open his two-month-old wounds and half on making sure you had the best time. And you did, and he only got better each time after that.

Here, underneath you, he sits staring at your bare chest like he's a starved man. It's kind of feral, which should perhaps worry you, but he's so loving that it only winds you up more.

His lips are on you before you can think to feel too softly about all of this.

"Eddie," you pant. He groans into the stretched skin of your sternum, where he's kissing down, down, down, as low as his dipped head will allow. With his hands now on your back, one up between your shoulder blades and another lower down, he leans you backwards so he can keep going. You crane your neck back and think, briefly, about how pornographic this must look. The thought drives you completely wild. 

He lowers you slowly to the ground. Sitting back up, he reaches to pull his own shirt over his head, before climbing awkwardly over you to pull the doors shut. There's no one out here, there never is, but he knows you'd spend the whole thing anxious about being caught. All he wants is for you to be comfortable.

You sit up to pull your sneakers and shorts off, so that when he's back you're lying down again in just your pants and white tennis socks. He lowers himself, knees either side of your thighs, hands on the flesh there, kneading it like dough, and bends over you. He kisses across your collarbones, back up your jaw, retracing his steps. When he kisses the corner of your mouth, he says, "I love you."

You say it back, pushing the words back into his mouth, kissing him softly.

Sex with Eddie is always tender, sure, but it's also almost always quick, rough and time-efficient. Not in an unsexy way; it's how you've both liked it for the last few months, stealing moments when you can between pool parties and movie nights and shifts at work.

You'd known tonight was different when Eddie had asked you up here. You're not not exclusive, though the question's never been explicitly asked - if anyone was to pry, you'd always refer to him as your boyfriend - but this feels like a real date.

And so this sex is different, too. Softer, warmer, slower. You help him pull his jeans down, all the way off, and then you hook your fingers over the waistband of his underwear. But he comes to grip your wrist again, stopping you, and he huffs a laugh when you whine.

"Not yet," he breathes, lifting himself up.

"But Eddie-"

"Stop being impatient," he teases. His fingers are still locked around your wrist. "We have all the time in the world."

You melt. Is this what you think it is?

"Really?"

"Really."

He kisses you again, and you keen into his mouth. You feel his touch against your hip bone, and his fingers curl around your underwear. Tugging them down, his other hand runs down your thigh and under your knee, helping himself undress you completely.

"You," he breathes, "are so fuckin' beautiful."

You giggle, biting your lip to suppress a grin. You turn your head to one side, cheek brushing the old blanket that covers the floor, and he seizes the opportunity to kiss under your ear and down your neck.

"Look at me," he says again. When you don't, instead craning your neck to wind him up, he digs his fingers into your sides and you squirm beneath him, laughing.

Your eyes meet his and as they do, you feel his fingers on the skin right above where you want him most. He plots a dance across your hips and down between your thighs, teasing and cruel, but his eyes are so gorgeous and dark and all lovesick and it's so hard to be mad at him.

Finally, they find your clit, find purchase on the skin despite how wet you've become. He hums a smug, proud noise when you arch your back at his touch.

You feel euphoric at these light swipes alone; God knows what you'll be like when he's inside you.

As you think this, the thought consumes you. It swallows you whole, filling every space with thoughts of Eddie.

"Need you," you whimper.

"Oh yeah?"

You groan at his cockiness, at his teasing and the fact his fingers still aren't inside you.

You try to say, "please," but the word comes out strangled. You're desperate, aching, caving in from the inside out.

"You're asking so nicely," he croons, tone mocking. And then he moves, leans down over you so your bare chest presses to his, and he says in your ear with a new breathlessness, "you're so good."

The praise is like gasoline on this incredibly torturous fire. You can't bear it, your hands are everywhere, all over his back and down to his underwear which you want rid of immediately.

"Please, Eds," you say again, and you smile when you hear him groan at the petname. You are the only person who calls him that, and you reserve it for when you want something from him.

"I'm trying to be romantic," he says with a breathy laugh.

"I don't care," you bark out without thinking.

"Fine," he says back, resolute. "You wanna be like that? You'll get what you ask for."

The switch in his tone is like a firecracker. You're all wriggly and about as impatient as a person can get by now, enthralled by the prospect that he might finally get inside you.

He sits up on his heels and manages to get his underwear off. You sit up on your elbows to look at him properly, wonderstruck.

"You're so pretty," you breathe out.

He laughs at you, and says, "y'really know how to get a guy goin', huh?"

You just reach one arm up, shifting your weight onto one elbow, and make those same grabby hands at him that you had earlier, before you'd bared all to him and told him you love him.

"Alright, alright," he says, leaning back over you. Your impatient fingers coil around his cock, at which he hisses out air through his teeth. You flick your thumb over the tip and pull your hand up and down a few times, before he covers it with his own hand and pries it away gently. He locks his fingers with yours and you think you really might melt from how happy you are.

"You ready?"

"So ready," you plead.

But he doesn't move, even when you scratch his back lightly with your other hand. Instead, he looks down at you with a strange expression.

"What?" you ask.

"I love you," he tells you again. It makes you flush; you feel a warmth spread up your scalp and across your cheeks, and you can't help the way you smile back at him.

Finally, he adjusts himself at your entrance, and slowly pushes in. Even now, after months of this, you need time to get used to him and he knows it, relishes in it. Arching your back you dig your nails even deeper into the flesh of his back, grip his hand even harder, and moan a sound that makes him answer your call with his own.

That's all you can hear: your own breathy moans, Eddie's groans, and skin on skin. It's otherworldly; you'd be happy here forever.

In and out, he thrusts slow and firm. He's being gentle; you can tell that even though he'd feigned a roughness that usually excites you, he'd been intent on tonight being like this since the beginning.

It's unlike any of the sex you've ever had with him before, and you could see yourself getting used to it.

"Eddie, oh my god-"

"I know, I know," he pants. He's squinting, eyes tight shut, so you reach up to hold one side of his face. He opens them and looks at you as he slows his thrusts, and comes down to kiss you. As he picks up the pace again, it becomes a mess of lips and teeth.

"Eddie, I- I-"

"I've got you, sugar."

In answer to your unspoken request, he relinquishes your hand and moves his fingers between your bodies to your clit, drawing quick circles that make your eyes roll back into your skull. You're close, so close; there's a fire within that is spreading, your walls are clenching tighter, your vision's burning brighter.

You know he's there, too, close to the edge you're both about to fall off. Just a few more thrusts, a few more deft movements of his fingers on your clit and you burst, a supernova, bright and hot.

You scream his name as you come undone, limbs limp and mind blank. He pants above you, concentrating, murmuring sweet nothings that make no sense but send you dizzy anyway. 

"Good girl," he says through swift breaths. "So, so good."

He's riding you through your orgasm, bringing you to the very edge of sensitivity, until he goes, too. You feel him go rigid and with a groan he comes, warm and familiar inside you.

As he rests on you for a moment, still inside you, you brush his hair out of his face and kiss him gently on his cheek.

"I love you," you tell him again, for the thousandth time that evening.

"I love you, too," he repeats.

-

#A Qs #💌 request #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #Eddie Munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fic request

[abiiors]

hot chocolate ☕ // matty healy x reader

promptober '23 - day 19

a/n: for all my girlies with the big sad, the cold months approach :/ cw: discussions of mental health, mentions of depression wc: 1.1k

matty has a pit of worry in his stomach. he’s had it for about two days now, for as long as the house has been unusually quiet. he’s alone in their dimly lit kitchen, barely any sunlight streaming in. whatever manages to sneak in through the parting of the clouds, gets diluted by the sheets of rain falling from the sky. 

it’s dull and grey. exactly the kind of weather she hates. 

matty gives the brewing pot of coffee another look and decides on abandoning it. 

he knows what he will see when he walks into the bedroom—she will be in bed, in the same three day old pyjamas, messy and unbrushed hair, “taking a nap”. not that he cares about how she looks. it’s just the niggling pit that doesn’t let him sit still. 

“darling?” he calls from the door, watching for any signs of movement under the duvet. “you awake yet?”

she should be, he thinks to himself. it’s nearly noon. he wants to make them some lunch but she doesn’t move, doesn’t reply to his question. matty gnaws on his bottom lip and walks in. 

“i’m making something for lunch…” he says again, sitting by her side of the bed and resting a hand on her back. matty knows she’s not asleep. her breaths are nowhere near deep and even. 

“i know you’re awake,” he says softly, moving his hand to her forehead, checking for any signs of an illness just in case. but deep down he knows the illness is not physical. 

when matty threads his fingers through her hair, it’s not the usual soft and smooth strands he’s met with. his fingers get caught up in the greasy knots, accidently pulling on some hair. she winces.  

“go away, matty, ‘m not hungry,” she mumbles into the pillow, voice feeble and barely audible. “‘m sleepy.”

he tuts. it’s a lie—if he’s right, and he suspects he is, she hasn’t properly slept in days, tossing and turning at night. and yet she has left the bed only a handful of times in the last few days. 

he’s tried giving her space, to let her sort things out on her own because that’s usually what she prefers. but he draws the line at skipping meals. 

“sleep after lunch,” he counters, and goes to draw the duvet off her. 

it’s not even a moment later that matty fliches, appalled when she slaps away his hand. 

“i said i’m not hungry!” she snaps, turning away from him, cocooning herself further, shut off from him, from the world. 

he stills and for a moment the only sound in the room is that of the rain hammering against the window. it’s haphazard, nowhere near a soothing beat. this rain sounds more like an anxious heartbeat—loud, odd and out of sync. 

then he hears the sniffle and his heart breaks. 

“baby…” he approaches again, trying to at least slide the duvet off her face. “hey, look at me please.” 

he doesn’t care that she snapped at him or slapped his hand away. right now, he cares that something is deeply wrong, and he’s ready to beg if that means she’d tell him. 

“g-go away, matty,” she tries again, tries so hard not to let her voice waver or crack and yet he hears it. 

matty decides enough is enough, and pulls the duvet off her entirely. 

her pyjama top is wrinkled and bunched up around her waist, and if he’s being honest, she smells a little bit but he can take care of that later. showers and perfumes and oils can wait. everything else in the world can wait. 

“i won't,” he declares firmly. “now you can either keep fighting me or you can tell me what’s wrong. either way, i’m staying right here.”

she looks at him through dull eyes that widen slightly with every word, jaw clenched to keep her chin from wobbling even as her eyes turn pink first, then watery until the tears fall one by one. matty doesn’t shush her, he just quietly pulls her into his chest, letting her cry it out. 

“i’m so cold…” she says after a few minutes. her voice is already hoarse, a whispery shadow of what it’s like on the good days. today it’s barely more than a squeak. “so cold. all the time. i just…i’m just so tired, i can’t. i don’t know what to do. and whatever i do, i can’t g-get, can’t get warm.”

she breaks into another round of tears by the time she’s done—loud, gut-wrenching sobs that break his heart but he lets her be. his only job is to be there and hold her. he just needs to be the sun.

“i know what will help,” matty mumbles into her hair, pressing a small kiss to her head. “give me two minutes?”

and he does return two minutes later as promised. matty practically makes a mad dash to and from the kitchen, balancing the mugs in his hands and his socks sliding on the wooden floors around the corner. but the liquid in them stays unscathed. 

“there we go,” he announces as soon as he’s back in the bedroom. a tiny pang goes through his chest when he sees her sitting up in bed, arms hugging her middle. she looks small, smaller than he’s ever seen her. but there’s a miniscule spark of curiosity in her eyes. 

he’ll take that spark. he’ll nurture and rekindle it. 

“chef matty’s hot chocolate,” he presents it with a flourish smiling at her raised eyebrow. 

“i know you said you weren’t hungry and you were cold. so i thought this would be a good compromise?”

for a moment she doesn’t say anything, only takes the mug from him and cradles it close, lets the steam waft over her face. hot chocolate won’t do anything for a cold that goes bone-deep. but it’s a start. he can do the rest of the work. 

“take a sip?” he nudges, sitting back in the same spot as before. he brings his own mug up to his mouth, nudging her to mimic him. together they drink their first sip. 

instant sweetness floods his mouth, comforting warmth creeping down his throat and settling into his stomach. he can only hope it does the same for her. 

and he will be there for the rest of it. for all the cold days that come after this. 

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy@sierraeslaprincesa@harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet@thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies@sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars

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#tw: mental health #promptober75 #the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty x you #matty x reader #matty healy hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #tw: depression #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 hurt/comfort #the 1975 fic

[featherandferns]

6 angst but with happy ending I can't deal with sadness 🫣

6. I take it, that's not a good thing.

Sorry this took me so long to write! I hope it's sort of what you were after!

feel free to request: prompt list

The Fire - Prompt 6

Outside, on the marsh bank, crickets chatter. It’s warm inside the chateau, the way a greenhouse absorbs the light of day, and JJ relaxes against the sofa. It feels as if the group had been running endlessly these past few days, with the cross and John B’s father, and all the other shit swimming around in the background. JJ and his best friend Kie are still in the midst of a fall-out after he stole the money clip. You'd been talking to him about it, encouraging him to make peace over the matter with her. He hates when you're right about things.

His eyes flit to the bathroom door. He’s been meaning to fix it, ever since he started staying at the chateau, but it never seemed all that important. Then life got chaotic and a hit-and-miss lock became the least of his worries, when compared with surviving on an island and being chased by an insane millionaire.

From his spot on the sofa, he can only just make out the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. You’d jumped at the chance to shower, finally having a moment of peace and quiet, and nobody had argued against it. JJ had teased that you smelt bad anyway, so a shower was probably the right move. Earnt him a mirthful roll of the eyes as you stuck your tongue out at him.

At the table ahead, Cleo and Pope play board games – dominoes and cards – to kill the time. JJ looks away from them, down at his hands, and plans on swallowing his pride. Kie’s been sat beside him for a moment, stuck in a mild awkward silence. Her fingers meddle with the strings of her ukulele, that has sat neglected for months.

“Hey, Kie,” he begins. “Uh, you know that whole entire money clip and dad situation?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs.

“Well, um, that wasn’t that cool and I’m kind of beating around the bush a little bit, but um, I’m…”

As he nervously looks around the room (never one to be good at apologies), JJ’s eyes catch onto the building orange glow outside the kitchen window. It’s naturally fluorescent and unnaturally familiar.

“Yeah?” she coaxes, frowning.

JJ slowly gets to his feet, trying to get a better view of it. His stomach begins to sink lower into his chest. It seems Kiara’s caught on too, getting up, abandoning the uke.

“What is that?”

The flames are licking up the walls now and JJ can faintly make out the crackling of embers.

“Um…”

“That’s a fire,” JJ breathes, realisation dawning like a meteor making impact with earth. It’s like it kicks him into action. “We gotta tell ‘em. Tell them, tell them!”

Kie darts to the bedroom where John B and Sarah were last seen as JJ hollers for Pope and Cleo. Their heads shoot up, taken by surprise, and then they’re instinctively looking to the window, to the flames. JJ turns to the bathroom door. Hammers on it. The shower’s shut off now. He calls your name, trying the handle.

“I’ll be out in a minute! Jesus!” you call back, voice light with a laugh.

“There’s a fire!” JJ shouts, rattling the handle once more.

“A fire?” You say. Then you’re rattling the handle too. Harsh and frantic. “It won’t open, JayJ!”

His stomach drops even lower somehow, like it’s sinking into the floor.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. Shoves his body weight against it, battling with the handle. He can hear the click of metal as you attempt to undo the latch, but it sounds as if it’s trapped. You’re trapped.

“What’s going on?” Pope worries, as him and Cleo are heading to the doorway.

“The fucking lock is stuck again,” JJ spits angrily, desperately battling with the door. The house is beginning to fill with smoke, slowly but surely.

“I take it, that’s not a good thing?” Cleo asks.

“Fuck no, it’s not a good thing,” JJ frustrates.

You’re banging on the door now. “JJ! It’s getting hot in here!”

“I’m trying! Try the window!” he shouts back.

There’s the ruckus of you kicking and shoving things out the way, heading for the window. Then a sharp pained screech. The latch must be hot, searing your hands. That means the fires getting closer.

“There’s smoke in here!” you cry out. The handle rattles again. “JJ! Help me!”

And he’s trying. He’s throwing himself against the door and yanking at the handle and doing anything he can. Coughs a little from the smog. Hollers for the gang to get outside, to not wait around. Hollers for you to keep calm, to keep trying the lock. Panic clouds his head the way smoke clouds his vision. All of his thoughts are focused on you and getting you out and safe. He needs you safe.

You’re coughing loudly. The handle isn’t rattling as much anymore and that only fills JJ with more dread, making his limbs feel heavy like they’re laced with lead. It’s a small bathroom with no ventilation. JJ knows it’s bad when smoke begins to slip underneath the bottom of the door.

The handle stops rattling.

He shouts your name, banging frantically on the door. But you’re not answering him anymore. Not responding. JJ’s sweat isn’t from the heat of the fire. He needs you safe.

The universe has a cruel sense of humour. The latch finally seems to loosen, JJ practically tumbling into the room as the door swings open. He catches himself, only just, to find you collapsed on the floor. You’re still. Eerily still. Gasping out your name, he lunges down, shaking at your shoulders. No, scratch that, there’s no time. He picks you up as if you’re nothing more than a scrap of tissue paper, the adrenaline the only thing keeping him standing. Coughing as he carries you out the house with him, practically dropping to the grass on his knees the moment he’s outside.

The Pogues are rushing around, frantic and concerned, but JJ’s attention is on you. You still haven’t moved. He ducks to place his ear on your chest, searching for a heartbeat through the cotton of your tee-shirt.

Still.

“She’s not breathing!” JJ hollers out. He looks to Pope, eyes so wide they gape. “Pope! She’s not breathing!”

Pope rushes over. Shoves JJ out the way and drops to his knees. Checks for a pulse, listens for a heartbeat. JJ’s falling back on his haunches, raking his fingers through his hair, crying as Pope starts CPR. He’s hyperventilating as Pope pumps his hand against your chest, fighting for a heartbeat. Pope’s counting under his breath. Sarah’s crying against John B whilst Kie stands to the side, saying a silent prayer, hands clasped in front of her mouth. Cleo hovers behind Pope.

JJ’s reeling. It’ll be the smoke. He should have gotten to you faster.

“Pope!” JJ hopelessly pleads. Sobbing through his panic.

Pope doesn’t acknowledge him. Keeps counting, keeps compressing, keeps fighting.

It’s useless. It’s pointless. It’s—

You gasp out a breath.

Relief has never felt so visceral before, to JJ.

Coughing, spluttering, eyes struggling open, you slowly come around. Pope removes his hands from you, moving to help you ease up until you’re sitting. JJ rubs at your back, helping you hack up the soot in your body.

“Jesus Christ, don’t do that to me,” he hisses, pulling you against his side. Presses kisses into your hairline.

“Had you all going, huh?” you weakly joke.

If any of the gang laughs, it’s the adrenaline leaking out of them. The relief of having not lost you. JJ doesn’t laugh though. Keeps hugging you, tears still silently falling. That was too real. Too close.

“Don’t do that to me again,” is all he repeats quietly.

You hug him back, as best you can in your state, and JJ swears it’s the best hug you’ve ever given him.

“I won’t,” you rasp. Your voice sounds like it’s been attacked with sandpaper. “I won’t.”

#jj #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #obx #outer banks #obx fic #outerbanks #outer banks fic #jj maybank fic #jj drabbles #jj maybank drabble #drabbles #drabble #jj x reader drabble #jj maybank x reader drabble #6 #prompts

[oneforthemunny]

What about Janitor Eddie comforting reader after she had the baby and she’s feeling insecure about her body with the changes. Like I know he loves her no matter what

he's be so sad because he's obsessed with her no matter what. like not even on a "your personality is what makes you beautiful" like yes, he agrees, but also he think you are the prettiest person in the world. like the most beautiful and amazing, and every time you put yourself down it makes him so sad. genuinely sad, so for all of you who want to say bad things about yourself, picture saying it to janitor!eddie and his eyes get so sad and I hope you stop yourself!!!

but especially after/when you're pregnant. he's mind boggled that you think you're not a goddess, because to him, you are. a warrior, a goddess, the most amazing, strongest, beautiful thing on the planet. everyone around you should feel lucky that they're in you're presence because do they even appreciate that they're with the nicest, kindest, strongest, most beautiful being in creation???

he'd do anything for you. for your babies too. when she's throwing a little pity party about stretch marks, hiding while she feeds olivia, and disappearing to the bathroom to change he's like????

"baby, what's wrong?" eddie would ask after you got the kids to sleep. "is it your stitches? or do you need to pump? or need your cream?"

you're just standing, tears streaming while you cup your stretched skin. "I'm sorry," you mutter, turning to him with watery eyes. "I know this isn't... this isn't who you wanted to be with, and I swear I'll start eating better and-and doing more. I've just been so tired, ed, and-"

"what?" eddie asks, flinching and head shaking in genuine shock. "what are you talking about?"

"me." you croak, tears flooding down your cheeks and blurring your vision. "I didn't realize that-that it wouldn't go back to normal after I had her, and-and I'm sorry. you don't deserve to look at this, and see me like this. I'm sorry you have to see this."

"don't." eddie's voice is hard, stern- a tone you very rarely ever hear from him. his lips are pressed together, nearly angry, upset. your heart hammers for the worst. "did I... did I say something or do something that made you feel like this?" eddie asks softly, his own face crumpling.

you shake your head, sucking in a shuddering breath. "no, but-but look at me, ed-"

"yeah, I can't stop looking at you, baby." eddie says, not missing a beat. "you just had a baby. my baby. our baby." eddie whispers. "you had her in your body and brought her here all safe and sound, and-and you think I'd be..." he can't even finish the sentence, shaking his head and hand sliding down his face.

"I think you're beautiful. I think you're even more beautiful now."

you roll your eyes lightly, swiping your tears away. "don't lie, eddie."

"I would never." eddie said fiercely. "I don't know how you could think I was lying when every time I see you, I-I want to scream and cry and kiss you and hold onto you and run in circles all at the same time because you're mine. like you're really mine." his eyes trap yours, holding your gaze fiercely.

"and I thought you were perfection on the day I met you, and every single day you just get better and it makes my brain want to explode because how can you be so perfect in every single fucking way." he's rambling, truthful words spilling out of him like a fountain, leaving you blushing and sniffling.

"then you married me, and-and then you had a kid with me- two kids? you want to be with me and you love me, and fuck, you're so hot. I mean, do you know how hard it is for me not to want to fuck you every second of the day? do you even know what you do to me? you sneezed the other day and I got a boner, and you think.... you think I'm not attracted to you?" you giggled, eyes rolling gently at his admission. it made you blush, made you feel warm and gooey and loved. so fucking loved.

his hand is on your hip, rubbing over the stretched flesh, squeezing it lightly, lovingly. "I don't know how you can't see what I see, but I'll keep trying to show you, because you're the most fucking mind blowing thing in my life... well, you and the kids, but you, baby. you're on another level that I'll never be on in my life."

you blush, looking down at his hand. "I think you're on that level." you mutter, feeling him pull you close, mindful of your sore boobs.

"no way." he muttered, nose buried in your hair. "and that's alright. I'm happy just to watch you be you for the rest of my life. you're my favorite thing in my whole life. nothings beatin' you, baby."

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #janitor!eddie munson

[bonefall]

As someone who was adopted, I find it funny how much of a hate boner Warrior Cats has against adoption. Like, Thunder, my guy, are you not the one dealing with a horrendous biological father? Don'tcha think that the abusive prick is a horrible choice to leave children with? So what if he said he was part of the process in making them? Who they see as their dad is up to them. Blood doesn't create parents, love does.

Unfortunately, I suppose we're all stuck watching adoption be beat with a hammer because screw us? Man, I'm lucky I was someone who wasn't insecure about being adopted (well, to a degree... kinda shook me up seeing PO3 unfold as a kiddo). For a kid's series, they really do not think about the consequences it could have on children.

Thunder feels incredibly inconsistent in his writing, like they had 3 different ideas for what they wanted to do and couldn't commit to any

First he's rejecting Clear Sky and disavowing him as a father having realized that he's a violent ghoul.

Then he's going to bat in his defense just like Gray Wing, thinking "woah! Does everyone really think he's a monster?!""

And then we get to see him fetching Turtle's kits, back to early Thunder Rising character where he can't fathom a person Hating Their Own Father.

He cycles between these depending on whatever the plot needs. Thunder 1 has a GREAT reason to maul Tom, but the whole stupid subplot about convincing the kits that being a housecat sucks wouldn't work unless it was Thunder 3

I'm not adopted, but 2 members of my close family are. One of them was always trying to buddy up to their biodad, in a way that was... honestly, pathetic, sad, and formative to me. Biofather was a HORRIBLE person (I wish I had never been exposed to him) and caused nothing but pain to the entire family. There was no question why he abandoned my family members-- he was a sleaze.

The other is my relative's sister, and she's the type that says, "my adopted dad is my real dad. (Name) was just my donor." The garbage that Biofather put her through was endless, every time her brother dragged him back into everyone's lives, she always got hurt in some way

So DOTC is a pretty painful arc to me. The Skykin family strikes a personal nerve, and the sheer amount of undue sympathy they layer on Clear Sky but not his victims just... it makes my skin crawl.

And god, you can tell that the writers believe the same shit that Male Family Member believes. That something about your genes just draws you towards your biorelatives, and that nothing is more sacred than that, no matter how much this toxic relative hurts you and the people you love.

Love makes family. Blood just bleeds.

#I really love the phrase Blood of the Covenent/is thicker/than the Water of the Womb #Bone babble

[avisperocustom]

On spirals

Babe, we're having a human experience. We're part of god, we're limitless consciousness, but we're also inhabiting a body.

I got triggered yesterday. I mentioned my sps, the 3d responded badly..Or so I thought.

Oh boy. If you're in the same boat as me, this is for you and for me.

So, you got triggered. You got bad thoughts...Now what?

NOW YOU PERSIST, BAYBEEE! THIS IS YOUR TIME TO SHINE!

See, when you get triggered it's you falling from one state of reality to a more unfavorable, and perhaps familiar, one. I know the state I fell to very well, it's low and it's full of anxiety. Horrible, sticky anxiety that fills my lungs and makes my heart beat way too fast. Boo, horrible, nobody likes it. My 3d reflected my fears and my assumptions. Babe, the 3d is nothing but a collection of your thoughts and feelings. I mentioned Teddy to my friend, whom I had built the assumption about that she hates him. What did I get? Exactly that.

SO. You know you fell into a bad icky state, how to get back to the better, more favorable state? I'm getting to that honey

FIRST AND FOREMOST,

Fulfill your basic needs: Hunger, Hygiene, Release, Sleep.

Try to sleep it off. It could be your mortal body that's screaming for help.

"[Redacted], it didn't help, I'm still triggered, I can't do this, manifestation isn't real, i'm crazy delusional and sp doesn't love me" It exists, we all have been through this honey, the feeling is normal, you WILL feel crazy and delulu at some point, it's completely natural, even more when you're going through this journey alone, but I assure you manifestation is real.

IF SLEEPING IT OFF DIDN'T WORK, IT'S BEEN MULTIPLE HOURS OR EVEN A DAY,

STEPS TO RESCUE YOURSELF OUT OF A SPIRAL:

1- Check your self concept:

WHAT, is being said by the unfavorable state? What are you thinking right now? In my particular state, it was a complete victim state. "Why does my sp hurt me, what did I do" (Babe I manifested my own hurt in that one reality lmao the fuck you mean "what did you do") "I'm so hated, abandoned and unwanted" "I'm not chosen" "I'm pathetic and forgotten"

2- Ground yourself:

Remember who the fuck you are. WHO ARE YOU? You're that bitch. You're limitless consciousness, and whatever you say in your reality is what goes. Babe you're, literally, a god. You're all powerful and all capable. You're wanted, you're loved, you're admired and you are capable of ANYTHING you desire. You're desired, you're absolutely gorgeous, chosen, pursued, sought after because you're so fucking rare and amazing. YOU, ARE LOVED. YOU, ARE THE SOURCE OF EVERYTHING HAPPENING AROUND YOU, LIFE HAPPENS THROUGH YOU, AND NOT TO YOU. IT'S YOUR INNER MAN THE ONE TELLING YOU, "LISTEN TO ME, I AM GOD, I CREATE FROM CLAY MY OWN REALITY."

3- Release that energy:

Baby it's time to get that anxiety physically off of you. Move around, dance, work out, shake yourself out of it. Rant to yourself how amazing you are. If you need to meditate? Do so. Listen to music. Listen to a subliminal, that shit doubles as affirmations being hammered into your brain and if the music is hype as a way to get that icky feeling outta you. Go walk your dog. Ground yourself on grass. Get straight in the ocean, or jump inside a pool. Anything. But get that shit out of your body. My only tip here is to not consume anything that isn't positive, manifestation content. Do not trigger yourself further. No sad songs, no "waaaa poor me" shit. REMEMBER WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE.

4- Persist, persist, PERSIST:

Remember that the 3d is fake. All of this is subject to change, from one second to the next. You didn't ruin your manifestation, nor even delayed it because you had a human day. You're a god living a human experience, training to be a higher being one day when your body is, at its right time and without intervention, gone. You're allowed to have flaws. You're allowed to have a bad day. You can talk about your fridge disappearing all you want, but if you KNOW you have a fridge, it'll still be there in the kitchen where it belongs. KNOW, that your manifestation is happening. No matter what you see, remember that from the first time you put your foot down and affirmed for your manifestation, it's already done. Nothing to seek, nothing to change, nothing to wait for. It's done, it happened. You revised successfully, and changed realities.

Moved back to the wrong reality? Boo, all you did was take the wrong bus. Just get your bus pass and go back to the neighborhood you should be at, silly. Your sp loves you, you have the money, your past is exactly what you want it to be, you're healthy, you'll be fine

Affirm. Or visualize, or script. Or idk float around somewhere. Whichever technique you use, remind yourself of what you have.

You'll be fine. I'll be fine. We'll be fine together.

And let me tell you.

I was spiraling so hard yesterday, I didn't even register I had solid, clear movement. More than once, I had clear movement. And I was so blind to it, swallowed up by my worries and pulling my hair and thinking oh god, I'll lose it all, that I didn't even notice.

My revision didn't go well, it went perfectly.

#sp manifestation #law of assumption #loass #neville goddard

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Sauvignon Blanc | Guest Check

Tags: Nina first person POV train of consciousness, suicidal thoughts, self harm, substance abuse, it's a heavy one, sorry

The year I was born was the year that the government made it so that paracetamol had to be sold in blister packs rather than bottles. It was meant to prevent suicides as opening up individual packs was harder and gave a person more time to think. I want nothing more than to kill myself every time I have to dig my nail in to pop the foil but whatever. It worked, at least from what I've been told, never bothered to actually look it up.

Paracetamol poisoning is lousy fucking way to go anyways. Very English to choose a slow and miserable death. On par with the other preferred, yet slow, method of alcoholism. Nothing beats a destroyed liver and kidneys, I suppose.

I decided years ago how I'd kill myself. I won't mention it here in case someone gets nosy and gets me sectioned. It's not something I dwell on, but it feels like a back up plan, I guess. Like how some women have a secret cash fund in case their boyfriend beats them, I have my suicide plan.

I don't want to kill myself. More out of not wanting to hurt Kyle than anything else. It also seems like too much work most days. Why kill myself when I can drink a bottle of wine and curl up in bed?

There are rough days.

Like a spring is being compressed inside me and one day it'll release in some violent display against myself. I have to gently release the pressure. Always quietly. Always invisibly. Fear of my father trumped all other emotions growing up.

Plucking body hair (avoid the face!) and skin picking and scratching (avoid face and hands!) being two particular favorites of mine. One pair of tweezers can reliably do both. Sit in the tub to clean away any hair, skin or blood. Come out and present myself like the glossy, red eyed girl I am.

It's my biggest secret, strangely proud of that. Kyle doesn't know, despite once walking in on me aggressively plucking arm pit hair out (Do you not own a razor, you weirdo?). Growing up in the early era of "mental health awareness" that hammered in this behavior was not done for attention. That only made me feel worse as a teen, who fantasied whole heartedly about her father walking in on her, razor in hand, who would then fall to his knees and sob out apologies for not paying enough attention to her to notice. I never good at getting his attention in the first place so feeling like it was faux pas only increased my covert skills.

None of that helps with the post pain shame. The patheticness of it all. If I was a man I could simply punch a whole in the wall and break my fist. I don't want any more pity. My family is already dead.

Everyone looks at me different now. i try to act like it doesn't bother me and most of the time it doesn't. I'm not really friends with the rest of the staff at work.

It's Kyle though. Twenty odd years of friendship and he looks at me differently. I don't know if its pity or something else but I hate it. It's like he gets sad looking at me. I don't want to be that. Sex was never rough rough but now its like he doesn't want to break me, like he's afraid to touch me.

We broke up. I couldn't fucking do it. It was like chewing glass.

The only person who doesn't look at me differently, abiet he rarely looks at me at all, is Simon. Maybe it's why I let him take me home and basically give him free reign.

I don't have to think about it. I don't have to worry about him telling me he loves me. I don't have to worry about disappointing him. It might be because he doesn't actually like me so nothing I do will make him think less of me. I can just lay there. He does the work to make me cum and that's it. Wears a condom without complaint too.

It's easy.

He doesn't stay the night, which is fine, I can just enjoy myself with a bottle of wine in bed.

Tag List: @queen-ilmaree@macravishedbymactavish@gogh-with-the-flow@water-bearz @pvssytrux

#idk how to feel about this #tbh I'm not in a great mood rn so maybe some real thoughts leaked into this #BUT I FEEL BETTER NOW SO #guest check