#horrendous. the color the smell the taste. disgusting

[dirt-grub]

Pepto bismol is such a sick joke. Oh you feel like you’re going to throw up? Drink the Worst Liquid

#charlie talks #horrendous. the color the smell the taste. disgusting #me when I have a fever of 100.9 whip nae nae

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 9,067 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: The prison Warnings: mentions of anxiety, language Summary: Y/N falls ill on a run and Daryl worries about what's wrong.

Your name: submit What is this?

You leaned back against the chain link fence as Daryl pulled out the bolt cutters and cut the chain around the gate. “Okay. Umm… canned pears,” you said, glancing over at the archer. He peered up at you through his curtain of wavy brown hair.

“Pears? Nah. Peaches.”

You straightened up as he heaved the gate open. “I prefer pears.”

“Canned pears are disgusting,” he said, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Fine! If we find some, more for me!” you said. He slung his crossbow back over his shoulder in a well-practiced habit and started to lead the way toward the building. You followed just slightly behind him, fingering the hilt of your knife.

When you reached the small loading dock, Daryl gave you a serious glance and set down his duffel bag. He pulled the bolt cutters out again. You nodded and he banged them harshly on the closed overhead door. You both strained your hearing after the metal rattling ceased. Nothing. It was silent. You grinned at him.

“Well, that’s good news,” you said, relaxing slightly.

“There could still be some in there stuck somewhere. Don’t let your guard down,” he said, clipping the lock off the mechanism keeping the door shut.

“You know I don’t let my guard down,” you countered.

“Mmm,” he hummed, focused on the task at hand. He replaced the bolt cutters in the duffel and checked the magazine of his pistol before sliding it back into the holster at his side.

“French-cut green beans,” you said suddenly.

His blue eyes shot back up to your face. “Green beans?” he repeated. “And what the hell does ‘French-cut’ mean?”

You laughed. “They’re, like, thin sliced lengthwise. Julienne cut.”

Daryl just kept staring at you like you were nuts. “Juli-what? Green beans,” he said again. You grinned. “I love canned green beans! Maybe even more than fresh ones… although I don’t think that’s true anymore since you can’t find fresh anything these days…”

He let out a scoff of a laugh and shook his head, turning back to his crossbow and fitting a bolt into the flight groove. “Yer nuts, ya know that?”

“You like it,” you said, lifting your boot and poking the toe into his butt. It elicited the exact response you wanted, which was a look he meant to be stern, but the crinkles at the corners of his eyes gave away his mutual amusement.

“Sometimes,” he said, straightening up.

“Well, what are you hoping we find in there? Besides canned peaches.”

He shrugged. “I dunno.” He reached for the door latch, getting ready to heave it open.

Your hand shot out and landed on his arm, stopping him. “Nuh uh! That’s not a good answer!”

He sighed, taking in your insistent and expectant expression. “How ‘bout a giant jar of garlic dill pickles?”

You nodded, pleased with his answer. “Much better. Okay. Ready,” you said, unsheathing your knife. Daryl took in the playful light that lingered in your eyes as you readied yourself for whatever you were about to find inside.

He heaved the overhead door open and the two of you stepped into the dim shipment receiving area, shoulder to shoulder. You both clicked on your flashlights and swept them over the room. Daryl led the way to a door in the far wall. “Bet this goes to the storage area,” he said quietly. You nodded, a little anxious, shifting your weight from one hip to the other.

Daryl knocked loudly on the door and again you both strained your hearing, listening for the tell-tale moaning and clawing of the dead. It was intensely quiet. You and Daryl exchanged a look and he reached for the door handle. You gave him a nod and he pushed into the next room.

You were hoping to find the stock of emergency supplies that had been put together shortly before the outbreak became all-consuming. They were to be sent as hurricane relief. But instead of the hoped-for stockpile, you found a mostly empty stockroom instead.

“Shit.” You stepped farther inside and kicked at a piece of discarded shrink wrap on the floor. “I guess someone else heard the same tip we did,” you said, shining your light over the empty shelves.

“Mmm. Or got real damn lucky,” Daryl said, his crossbow still raised. His light illuminating a nearby doorway into the main store area. “C’mon. Let’s just check out here.”

You followed behind him with your flashlight up and you hadn’t moved too far into the room before a wall of horrendous odor hit you. “Oh my God,” you said, pressing a hand over your nose and mouth.

Daryl’s light landed on the decomposing scattered bodies of walkers. “Somebody cleared the place out,” he said, crouching down to look at the inflicted wounds. “They’re all shot.”

“Oh, fuck,” you murmured, gagging at the smell. You doubled over and heaved a few breaths, struggling to stop the bile that was suddenly churning in your stomach.

Daryl glanced back at you over his shoulder, climbing to his feet when he saw how pale you looked. There were beads of sweat across your forehead. “Ya alright?” he asked, rushing over to you, overwhelmed with concern. He gently rubbed your back.

You were afraid if you spoke you were going to vomit so you waved a hand at him and did your best to steel yourself. When you felt like you could talk, you tried to straighten up. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Really. It’s just the smell—Ugh, it hit me hard. I think I just need some air…”

Daryl was staring at you with a deeply furrowed brow. “Ya sure?”

“Fine. I’m fine.” You felt another wave of nausea and shut your eyes against it. “I’ll be outside… Just finish looking around in here and I’ll—I’ll meet you out back,” you said. Daryl sweetly grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. You met his blue eyes and saw they were darkened with concern. “I’m okay.”

The archer watched you retreat out into the fresh air, puzzled over the situation. He’d never seen you react to the smell of rotting bodies or gore that way. Hell, he’d seen you open up a walker’s stomach to check for meal contents. He’d seen you put down countless numbers of dead ones with an unhesitating knife to the skull. Just then he heard the unmistakable sound of you retching outside.

“Y/N?” He rushed outside to see you doubled over on the pavement a short distance from the door.

You straightened up at the sound of his bootsteps, your knees feeling a little shaky.

“You’re sick,” he said, a shadow growing on his face. “We gotta go. Get ya home.”

You looked miserable. “It’s just a stomach thing. It’s not a big deal,” you said, pulling out your water and rinsing out your mouth.

“Maybe it’s somethin’ ya ate. What’d ya have this mornin’?” he asked with anxiety.

You shook your head. “Can’t be that.”

“Food poisonin’? Why not?”

“Because I didn’t have anything,” you said, shoving your canteen back in your bag. “Did you finish up in there?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nah, but don’t matter. I’m sure whoever put down all those walkers cleaned it out. Ain’t nothin’ gonna be in there anyway. C’mon. Let’s just get ya home,” he said, taking your pack from you and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Daryl, we came all this way. Don’t you want to—”

“Nah. What I want is to get ya home. You’re sick. C’mon,” he insisted. His face was clouded with worry as you wiped a shaky hand over your brow, surprised at the clamminess of your own skin.

You nodded. “Okay. Alright.”

You were still a little nauseous the whole drive back to the prison. You had the window down so the fresh air was on your face which helped some, but the churning in your stomach never really stopped. Daryl kept glancing over at you the whole time he was driving, checking the color of your face, watching carefully for any sign that you were worsening.

He reached over and rested his hand on your knee. You caught his blue eyes and smiled weakly. “Don’t look so worried. It’s nothing. Probably just the stagnant air in there or something,” you said, trying to reassure him.

He wasn’t convinced, but he nodded.

He felt better as soon as he had you back behind the safe walls of the prison. His hand rested lightly on your lower back as you both headed up toward the main building. Daryl spotted Hershel and Carol in the yard and stopped short. “Hey—I’m gonna grab Hershel to come take a look at ya. Go on and lay down,” he said, inclining his chin toward the building.

“I’m fine,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time. “You’re really making too much of this,” you said.

“Maybe. But better safe than sorry,” he said.

You gave him a weak smile and nodded, conceding to his sweet concern. “See you in a few?”

He nodded, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze before he jogged off toward Hershel.

It wasn’t long before he arrived at the space the two of you had claimed, Hershel and Carol in tow. You were laying on the mattress with his poncho draped over you. You looked tired, but Daryl was relieved to see that some of the color looked like it had come back into your face.

Hershel pulled up a chair as you sat up. “Feeling a bit under the weather? Let’s see if you’ve got a fever. After having kids, every parent turns into a human thermometer,” he said. He pressed a hand to your forehead. “No fever. Any other symptoms? Headache? Weakness? Feeling dizzy?”

You shook your head. “No. A bit tired. And just had some nausea.”

“She was pale and clammy before,” Daryl drawled, watching with worry. “She looks better now.”

Hershel nodded. “I see.”

“Really, I think it was just the smell of those rotting walkers. The air in there was heavy with decomp. It was like I could frickin’ taste it. Ugh, it was horrible,” you said. Your stomach turned again a little as you thought about it and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Hershel nodded. “Well, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about,” Hershel said.

Daryl shifted. “Ya sure?” the archer pressed him.

“I’m sure. Why don’t you go on and help Rick with that new water line? We’ll just get her some water and something to eat. Make sure she rests. But I don’t think there’s anything troubling.”

Daryl considered you for a moment and you gave him a smile. He seemed to feel reassured and he nodded. “Alright.” He crossed the space to you quickly and leaned down to place a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, giving you one more parting glance. You smiled at him again and watched the wings on the back of his vest disappear down the stairs.

“So, I’m okay?” you asked, adjusting Daryl’s poncho over your lap. You watched Hershel and Carol exchange a look. You stomach twisted. “What? What is it?”

“It was the smell of the walkers that set off the nausea?” Carol asked.

“Yeah…” You stared at the two of them, perplexed. “What, you’re surprised that a bunch of rotting corpses in a closed-up store with no ventilation made me puke?”

“Well… a little, to be honest,” Hershel said gently.

You gave him a questioning look and then stared at Carol.

“We’re not saying that isn’t understandable. It’s just that you have never reacted that way before. And we’ve all seen you deal with rotting corpses before plenty of times,” Carol said. “You’ve never gotten sick.”

“I don’t get what you’re driving at. So, maybe I have a little stomach virus or something?” you said. “Is something wrong with me?”

“No. No, honey,” Carol said, grabbing your hand. She took a breath, her eyes searching your face. “Y/N, could you be… pregnant?”

You froze, a sudden, struck expression on your face. The doctor and Carol watched your eyes go a little round and wide, flitting back and forth as your mind whirred, like you were searching for the answer in the air over their shoulders. “Oh my God.”

Hershel and Carol watched your reaction carefully. You were as still as a stone statue.

“Oh my God,” you said again. “I didn’t even—” You shook your head slightly. “I didn’t realize, but—” You pressed a hand to your mouth. “Between never having enough to eat and the constant stress, I didn’t even notice that I—I mean, it’s not like we’ve been trying.”

“So, I’ll take that as a maybe,” Hershel said nodding. There was a spark in his eye as he peered at you kindly. “We’ll see about getting you a test.”

You looked back at Carol, your mouth dropping open and your eyes a little frantic. “Carol, what do I—? Daryl… He—" If it was true, you had no idea how the archer would react. Hell, at that moment you didn’t even know how you would react.

She gave you a concerned smile and squeezed your hand between her palms. “Let’s just take this a step at a time,” she said gently. “Okay?”

You gulped and nodded, suddenly reeling with anxiety. “Okay. Okay…”

Hershel climbed to his feet. “You rest. Carol and I will figure out getting a test for you. Probably just ask Glenn to make a run.” He read the anxiety on your face. “Either way this goes, it’s your decision what happens next,” he said gently. “Daryl is a good man. Try not to worry,” he said.

You nodded. “I know. I know… Okay.”

Carol followed Hershel out and you laid down on the mattress, pulling Daryl’s poncho up over you and curling your fingers into it, pressing your face close to the fabric and breathing in his smell. You laid awake for a while with your mind spinning, wondering how he would react to the news. It was always easy to picture your future with Daryl, even during what was seemingly the end of the world, but you’d never thought about the details beyond the two of you being together. And with the history of his parents, what he had gone through, you didn’t know what he would want as far as a family… That had never mattered to you before, but now that you were staring the possibility in the face you were suddenly wrecked with nerves.

Sometime later, the archer arrived to check on you, approaching the space you shared in the lofted area of the cell block quietly, expecting you to be sleeping. But he was surprised to see that, although you were in bed, your eyes were open and you rolled over at the sound of his quiet steps.

He was sweaty and coated in dust and mud that was in various stages of drying. He set his bow down beside the bed. “Ya ain’t sleepin’?” he drawled.

You shook your head.

“Why not?”

You shrugged. “Just couldn’t.”

His brow furrowed. “How are ya feelin’?”

“Fine. Just a little tired.” You smiled at his dirty and somewhat disheveled appearance. “Come here,” you said softly.

He glanced down at his mud-coated clothes and arms, and looked back up at you like you were nuts for that request. “M’filthy,” he said.

“I don’t care,” you replied. “Come here.” You moved over to make room for him to lay down beside you.

Daryl gave you a look, his blue eyes soft, and bent down to at least pull off his boots. He laid down facing you and his heart leapt as you moved into him closely, your arm draping over his waist. You moved your leg until it was tangled between his. He happily breathed in the scent of your hair.

“Ya okay? Really?” he asked, his deep voice a little heavy with gravel—the result of his concern.

You pulled back from him just enough so you could look into his handsome face. “Mhm. I’m fine. Really.”

He nodded and seemed to relax some, draping his arm over you, mirroring your position. You nuzzled into him again and for the first time since Hershel and Carol had left you alone, your mind quieted.

You felt him place a kiss in your hair and you smiled reflexively.

“I need to clean up. I’m gettin’ our bed all muddy,” he said. You felt the rumble of the bass in his voice.

“Can I come?” you asked softly. “I’ve felt gross since the run.”

He glanced down at you and nodded. “If I ever say no to that, ya can assume I’ve lost my damn mind.” He gave you a fond look and smoothed your hair gently. “Ya sure ya just don’t wanna sleep?”

“Mhm. I’m sure. Besides, I won’t be able to sleep unless you’re right here anyway.”

Daryl smiled, feeling a swell of affection for you and the way you always made him feel wanted and needed. “Alright. C’mon then.”

So, the two of you made your way to the showers and slipped into a private stall. Daryl pulled you into him under the stream of water and kissed your bare shoulders and up your neck, his arms smoothing over the curves of your sides and landing on the angles of your hips. You scrubbed away the mud from his skin and he smoothed the soapy lather over yours, loving the way his fingers glided over the shape of you. When you were both clean, Daryl shut off the water and wrapped you into him with his big towel causing you to laugh. “Gotcha,” he drawled.

“You do.” Your hand landed flush on his strong chest, your fingers splayed out, and you looked up at him, the corners of your eyes crinkled slightly in a smile. Daryl’s heart jumped every time you looked at him like that. He leaned forward and left a kiss on your nose, watching as your eyelashes fluttered closed.

You looked up at him again as he grabbed your towel for you and you both dried off before pulling on some clean clothes. Daryl watched you running a comb through your hair and studied the graceful movements of your hands. “Hey,” he said softly, drawing your eyes to him immediately. “Ya know I love ya, right?” He still looked a little bashful every time he said it. You didn’t mind.

Your face lit with a gentle smile and you closed the space to him in an instant, clasping his face in both of your hands. “I know. And you know, I love you, right?” you said.

Daryl’s lips found yours and you sank into each other for a moment. “I know,” he said when you broke apart. “C’mon. Ya need somethin’ to eat and then sleep.” He laced his fingers with yours and pulled you toward the cell block.

After a quiet supper with the rest of the group, the two of you wandered outside into the evening air to enjoy the stars for a few moments before heading up to bed. Daryl sat down on the soft grass and tilted his head at you, beckoning for you to come sit up against him. You sank down in front of him and leaned back. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder.

One thing Daryl always loved about you was that you didn’t need to fill every silence. Just being close to one another filled each of you up in ways that idle chatter never could. But when he did want to talk, you listened intensely, really listened to him in ways he wasn’t used to. “I’ve been thinkin’,” he said softly, pausing to anxiously chew his bottom lip for a moment, “if the outbreak hadn’t happened, you and I probably never would have even looked at each other.”

“Hmm. How do you mean?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, thinking about how best to explain what he meant. “I was too busy runnin’ around bein’ a piece of shit with Merle. And you—we were in different worlds, ya know. We probably never woulda even had the chance of brushin’ elbows. But if we did,” he shrugged, “I don’t think ya woulda looked at me twice.” He ran his hand down your bare arm, relishing the feeling of your soft skin. “Hell, I didn’t think ya would look at me twice even now…”

You turned and looked over at him, a sad but thoughtful expression on your face. “It’s hard to know, and maybe you’re right, that we would have never met… but if we did, I think I would have seen you just the same way. It’s impossible not to see you, Daryl.” You clasped his face and stroked your thumb along his strong jaw.

His eyes were flickering between yours and he felt that familiar bloom of warmth starting in the center of his chest, right between his lungs, and growing outward. He nudged his nose up at you, in awe of you always, and you acquiesced happily and kissed him. “Let’s get some rest,” he drawled when you finally broke apart. “C’mon.”

Daryl stood and pulled you up, keeping your hand captured in his, his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand as you made your way up to bed.

_ _ _ _ _ _

When you woke up the next morning you could tell it was much later than you usually slept in. And the fact that Daryl wasn’t beside you and that you hadn’t woken up when he stirred was also unusual. You were a light sleeper, and the two of you generally woke and got up around the same time. This sent your anxiety whirling again.

You got up and threw on some clothes, heading down to the lower level of the cell block and finding Carol and Beth sitting at one of the tables with Judith.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Carol said with a smile.

You rubbed your eyes and sighed. “Yeah, geez. What time is it? I don’t even know when I last slept in this late.”

She nodded and gave you a pointed look.

Beth only smiled up at you. “You must have needed it then,” she said kindly.

“I guess so…” You glanced around but the cell block was empty. “Where’s Daryl?”

“He’s on the fence with Rick. Little herd piled up overnight,” Carol explained.

“Mmm,” hummed in acknowledgment.

“Maggie and Glenn ran into town for some supplies,” Carol said, shooting you another meaningful look.

You nodded. “Great. Okay.” You anxiously bit the inside of your cheek.

“You want some breakfast? There’s some oatmeal we made,” Beth offered.

You shook your head. “No, I’m alright. I’m gonna go see how things are going on the fence I think.”

“Y/N, you should eat something,” Carol said.

You waved her off, already headed toward the door. “I’m fine! I’ll eat something in a bit!” Truthfully you had no appetite at all. This waiting, the not knowing, was agonizing.

You stepped out into the bright sunshine and set out toward the two figures on the perimeter fence. There was a group of walkers still clawing at the chain link, but it looked like Rick and Daryl had it under control. You grasped the interior chain link and hollered at Daryl and Rick over the mawing and growling sounds. “Best way to start the day?”

They both spun and you grinned at them. They were sweaty and splattered with walker blood, each clutching a metal rod in their hands, the end covered with a bit of gore. You felt a spin of nausea and avoided looking at the crimson dripping from their weapons.

“Morning exercise,” Rick said with a smile. He turned back and continued the task.

“Yer up,” Daryl said with a smile. He came over, wiped his hand on the red rag he always had in his back pocket, and then rested his fingers over yours, which were poking through the fence on his side.

“You should have woken me up! I can’t believe I slept in this late,” you said.

“Nah. Ya needed it,” he drawled. “Ya were out cold. Didn’t even move when I got up. Besides, we’ve got this handled. Ain’t no reason ya need to be out here.”

You nodded. “I see that.”

“Should be a done in a bit,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder at the growing pile of dead ones on the other side of the fence. Looking back at you, Daryl thought you looked a little pale. “Ya feelin’ alright?” he asked, his brow furrowing a little.

You nodded. “Mhm. Fine. I’m gonna just go see if Hershel needs help in the garden,” you replied. “See ya in a few?”

The archer nodded and watch you start to turn away. “Hey—just take it easy, alright?”

You laughed. “I think harvesting cucumbers is about as easy as it gets!” You gave him one more wide smile and headed for the vegetable garden. “Hey, Carl,” you said, as you came through the gate and passed him. “What are we harvesting today?”

Hershel glanced up at you and gave you a small smile. “Cucumbers. Peppers. Those tomatoes could use some weeding if you’re up for it,” he said. He surveyed you carefully and, like Daryl, did think you looked a little pale. But you seemed otherwise bright and alert as you set about your task.

But you hadn’t been working in the garden long when you started to feel a bit dizzy. A cold sweat broke out at your hairline and on the back of your neck and you knelt heavily in the soil a little suddenly.

Hershel noticed immediately. “Y/N?” He got up and moved over to you. He watched you wipe a shaky hand across your forehead. “You alright?”

You heaved in a deep breath and forced it out slowly. “Just feel sick all of a sudden. I’m okay. I’m fine,” you said, straightening back up. But as soon as you tried to stand your knees felt weak.

Hershel grabbed your arm to steady you. “Whoa. Easy now. Alright.” He turned to Carl. “Carl, go run and get Daryl.”

“No. No, I’m fine… Don’t bother Daryl with this. It’s nothing. I’m alright. I’ll just head back inside and rest,” you argued.

“You sure? It’s no bother to Daryl to come look after you,” Hershel said, giving you a pointed look.

“I’m fine. Really. I guess I do need some rest. It’s nothing,” you argued.

Hershel reluctantly released his gentle hold on your arm and you made your way back inside. Carol stood up when you came in and you read concern on her face at the sight of you. You let out a wry laugh.

“Wow, do I really look that bad?” you said, wiping at the sweat on your brow again with the back of your hand. Beth glanced over and she too looked worried after studying you. “I’m okay. Just gonna go lay down. I must just be a little sick... Caught some virus or something.” You climbed the stairs and collapsed back into bed, again grabbing Daryl’s poncho and cuddling up to it.

You dozed in and out for a while but woke when you heard hurried steps on the stairs. Looking up you saw Daryl in front of you, his blue eyes narrowed and obvious worry on his countenance. You leaned up on one elbow as Hershel came into view behind him.

Daryl sank down on the edge of the bed next to you and pushed your hair out of your face, smoothing it gently. “Ya are sick,” he said.

“I think she might be a little anemic,” Hershel said. “She needs iron. Red meat would be best.”

Daryl glanced over at him and nodded. “Alright. I can do that,” he said, grateful for a task that would be helpful to you when he was feeling helpless. He looked back at you. “I want ya to stay in bed today. Rest,” he said softly, his eyes flitting between yours. “Ya gonna be alright if I go out and hunt?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

He gulped. “Alright. Promise you’ll stay in bed?”

You looked up at the sweet worry on his face. “I promise. Promise you’ll be safe out there?” You hated the idea of him going out and hunting alone.

“I promise. I’ll come back to ya.” He smoothed your hair again and then leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes briefly at the sensation.

He shouldered his crossbow and look at Hershel. “Thanks, doc,” he said. You watched the wings on the back of his vest disappear down the stairs.

You glanced up at Hershel who set a glass of water down next to the bed for you. “You really think I’m anemic?”

He nodded. “I do. Fits all your symptoms. All of them except you getting sick yesterday.”

“Oh… okay.”

Hershel gave you a kind look. “Glenn and Maggie should be back any minute now. I’ll come and check on you in a bit.”

You dozed on and off for a while until you heard some activity down the stairs and you sat up in bed. Quiet, steady footsteps on the stairs approached and Maggie came into view with a small bag for you. “Got what you needed,” she said.

You sat up, your stomach churning nervously, and accepted the bag from her. “Thanks,” you said. She hovered for a moment.

“Do you know what you’re hopin’ for?” she asked.

You shook your head and glanced up at her. “Not really…”

She nodded. “Well, either way it goes, we’re all here for you. And I know Daryl is too, no matter what.”

You gave her a small smile and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.” You stared back down at the bag in your hand. “Well, better get it over with I suppose,” you said, standing up and heading for the bathroom.

A short while later you were back in the space you and Daryl shared, the pregnancy test sitting on the chair next to the bed. You couldn’t stop switching between sitting and anxiously bouncing your leg and pacing along the side of the bed wringing your hands. You were obsessively checking the time and it felt like it had decided to move like cold molasses. You were a bundle of nerves, but finally it was time to check the results. You forced a nervous breath in and out and picked up the test.

Positive. It was positive.

You felt like your knees were about to give out and you sat down on the bed hard, staring at that little plus sign.

Your heart was racing, and even though you were terrified, and so nervous wondering what Daryl’s reaction would be that you thought you might pass out, you broke into a teary smile as you stared at the results.

You replaced the test on the chair beside the bed and flopped backwards onto the mattress, staring up at the gray concrete of the ceiling and watching the shifting light and shadows. Whether it was simply from the relief of knowing or a result of the stress leading up to it combined with the toll on your body, you fell asleep not long after, cuddled up to Daryl’s poncho.

_ _ _ _ _ _

It was almost sunset when Daryl came back from his hunt, hauling a small deer over his shoulder. He had told himself he wasn’t coming back until he had some meat for you and everyone else (but mostly for you…) and he had succeeded. Usually hunting or tracking quieted his mind, but the whole time he was outside the prison fences he had been worrying about you. Before the outbreak, it wasn’t a big deal to get the flu or some random virus. But now, without access to modern medical care, something simple could turn into a big fucking problem real quick. You’d never had a problem with anemia before, if that’s what this was, and he didn’t really understand why you suddenly would. But he also knew that you were the type of person who would choose to go without a decent meal so Beth or Carl could have a second helping. He made a mental note to ask Maggie and Glenn about whether they saw any place on their run today that might have meds or supplements. Better to search out what they could before you needed it desperately.

The sun was low and sinking fast beyond the tree line as Daryl nodded to Carol as she closed the gate behind him.

“That’s a good find!” she said enthusiastically, looking at the deer slung over his shoulder.

“Yeah. How’s Y/N?”

“Hershel’s been checking on her. She’s been sleeping all afternoon,” Carol said.

Daryl nodded. “Good. I was afraid she’d be up tryin’ to help on the frickin’ fence or somethin’. Stubborn,” he drawled. He started up toward the prison and left the deer outside to be butchered. He wanted to see you before he did anything else.

It was quiet in the cell block. Most of the group was winding down for the evening, sprawled out with a book or busying themselves with some quiet activity. Rick gave Daryl a nod as he came in and continued bouncing and shushing Judith.

Climbing the stairs to your shared space, Daryl could tell you must still be asleep. Normally you’d have been calling out to him already with some greeting, or you’d be waiting at the top of the stairs with a one of those smiles that killed him every time.

He smiled as you came into view on the bed. You were partially curled up on your side, cuddled up to his poncho tightly, your fingers curled into the fabric and your cheek pressed to it. He pulled off his vest and tossed it on the chair beside the bed, debating about whether or not to wake you up and ask how you were, when he heard something clatter to the floor.

He bent and felt around under the chair and his hand closed on it. Straightening up, he finally looked at what was in his hand. Even Daryl knew what that little plus sign meant. He glanced back over at your sleeping figure.

This was—was this—suddenly, everything made sense.

The archer rushed down the stairs and toward the exit. Rick looked up and frowned at his urgency. “Daryl?” But the archer didn’t even stop to look at him.

Outside, he grabbed his crossbow from where he had laid it down by the deer, shouldered it, and let himself into the alley between the fences, running toward the vehicles waiting on the outside.

Carol saw him and her stomach immediately twisted. “Daryl?” She rushed toward the fence, but by the time she got there he was already slamming the driver door of the SUV and peeling out, the tires scattering gravel behind the car. Carol gripped the chain link fence so hard her knuckles were white and stared at the taillights disappearing into the dark beyond the lazily drifting cloud of dust. Her stomach dropped.

She ran the whole way back up to the prison and met Rick on his way out. “What’s going on?” Carol asked desperately.

“I was just coming to ask Daryl that same question,” Rick said, his eyes searching the yard and perimeter fence for his broad-shouldered frame. “He just went hurrying out of the cellblock.”

“I saw! He just took the SUV and peeled out of here,” Carol said, her eyes wide and worried. “It’s dark! Where could he possibly be going right now that couldn’t wait?”

A shadow darkened Rick’s expression. He shook his head and shrugged, meeting Carol’s eyes again, at a complete loss. “Better ask Y/N.”

Carol suddenly realized—like a flash of lightning. She nodded to Rick. “Let me go talk to her.”

Carol climbed the stairs to you and Daryl’s space in the cellblock. You were fast asleep on the bed and she gently touched your shoulder to wake you. You stirred and glanced over at her through sleepy eyes. You must have read something on her face because you shot up in bed immediately. “What? What is it? Is Daryl okay? Is he back?” You could tell by the lack of slanted light coming through the high windows that it must be dark.

Carol didn’t know how to tell you this. “He’s fine. He came back with a deer. And then—all of a sudden he just barreled out of here again. He took the SUV.”

You suddenly realized that Carol was sitting on the chair where the pregnancy test had been. Your heart plummeted into your stomach. “Wait—where—where’s the test? It was—it was right there where you’re sitting,” you said.

Carol shook her head. “I didn’t see it. There was nothing here when I came up. Just Daryl’s vest over the back here—”

Carol took in your wide-eyed expression. You jumped up off the bed and starting searching around the floor, reaching under the mattress. “It was right there. I set it there.” You stood up, frozen, one hand clutched to your head. Shit. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Daryl came back, and you were asleep, and he must have seen the test and— “He—He came back and I was asleep and he saw it,” you murmured. “He must have seen it and… he just ran off?” There were tears stinging in your eyes now.

Carol stood up and gently grasped your shoulders. “Try not to jump to any conclusions.”

“Carol, it was positive.” You just stared at her, your eyes still wide. “It was positive! What else am I supposed to think? He came back and he saw a positive pregnancy test and he just—he just left?” Your voice was desperate.

The only thing Carol could think of doing was to grab you tightly and hug you. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay! Don’t panic!”

Part of you knew Daryl would never just leave, but another part of you knew this was completely uncharted territory. You honestly didn’t know how he would react to the news… You couldn’t stop cursing yourself for leaving the stupid test out like that and letting yourself fall asleep. Anyone could have walked up and seen it, and of course it had to be Daryl. You snatched his poncho off the bed and started toward the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Carol demanded.

“I’m gonna go wait,” you said. “I’ll be in the east guard tower…And Carol—Please don’t say anything about this to anyone… Just—not yet. Not now.” You breezed past Rick on your way out, ignoring him calling your name.

Carol met him at the bottom of the stairs. “What’d she say?” Rick drawled.

Carol shrugged. “She was sleeping. Maybe—maybe Daryl is worried about her being sick and decided to go look for supplies,” she offered weakly.

Rick let out a disbelieving sigh. “At night? By himself?”

All Carol could do was shrug.

“How is Y/N? And where’d she just rush off to?”

Carol nodded. “She’s alright. Worrying about Daryl now obviously. She wanted some fresh air and to watch for him so she headed up to the guard tower.”

The worry creases on Rick’s forehead didn’t ease. “What the hell is he thinking going off by himself at night?”

Carol shook her head. “He probably wasn’t.”

Up in the guard tower, with Daryl’s poncho swaddled tightly around you, you sat out in the open night air and stared at the road that led up to the gate. A few times you even tricked yourself into thinking there were distant headlights approaching, but when you looked again everything was just as still and black as it had been a moment before. You heard the door creak open behind you and Hershel stepped out.

He sighed and looked up at the inky blue-black sky, dotted with innumerable stars. “Ah. It’s nice and cool out here now,” he said, leaning back against the wall of the tower. He bent and set a bowl of some noodles and vegetables beside you. “You better eat something,” he said.

“No appetite right now, funny enough,” you said.

He could see the rigid tension in your shoulders and he sank down next to you with some effort, adjusting his prosthetic leg with a sigh. “I can see you’re getting ahead of yourself,” he said gently. “Trying to guess the answer before you can even ask the question.”

You finally looked over at him, an anxious expression on your face. “Did Carol tell you?”

“No. She didn’t have to. I can guess well enough,” he said, a small smile on his lips. Hershel turned his gaze out over the yard. “You know there was a time, back at the farm, when I wasn’t sure about Daryl. You can imagine this old farmer was a little skeptical of his rough-around-the-edges, hot-headed biker attitude,” he chuckled to himself. “But time and time again, he came through for me and my girls. He watched out for all of you and he kept us safe even when we weren’t his to care about yet. He certainly saw Shane for what he was before anyone else.” Hershel breathed in a deep breath of the cool night air and let it out slowly. “And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he’d do anything for you.”

You could feel tears burning in your eyes again, and you adjusted the poncho around your shoulders.

“Whatever reason he had for tearing out of here like he did, I promise you that he will be back,” Hershel said strongly.

You wiped one tear that leaked onto your cheek and sniffled, trying your hardest to blink away the rest. You nodded. “Yeah. I just—I don’t know how to—how to do any of this,” you said. “And we’ve never even talked about it so I don’t know what he wants. What if—”

Hershel chuckled again. “What ifs can lead you down a dangerous road of thinking. Let’s just wait and see, hmm?”

You gulped and nodded, staring back out into the night. “You don’t have to wait with me,” you said.

“I’m going to sit here until you eat something. Doctor’s orders.” You could hear a smile in his voice and you begrudgingly picked up the bowl he had brought for you and picked at the food. Hershel smiled.

When the bowl was empty, Hershel took it from you and pulled himself to his feet again. He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Everything is going to be just fine. You’ll see.”

You felt like you had been waiting up there for days, but it was really only a few hours. You were reeling with worry, but this time when you thought you saw headlights and looked again they were still there.

You jumped up and stared as the SUV came into view and stopped at the gate. Turning on your heel, you started to rush toward the stairwell but you suddenly froze. What the hell were you going to say? What the hell was Daryl going to say? You were gripped with anxiety again as the multitude of what ifs you had been fighting since waking up suddenly traveled through your brain in single file at light speed. You were frozen, staring at the door for… you didn’t even know how long when it suddenly started to open.

You startled and jumped back with a small gasp of surprise. Daryl’s broad shoulders emerged through the widening gap. “Y/N?”

You gulped and stared back at him, anxiously chewing the inside of your cheek.

He stopped just inside the door and took in your wide eyes and obvious distress. His brow furrowed heavily, casting a shadow over his narrowed blue eyes. He gulped and stepped closer to you.

You cleared your throat, hoping your voice wouldn’t come unnaturally high or strangled sounding despite the constriction in your throat. “You’re back,” you said softly. It was the only thing you could force out.

Daryl looked puzzled. “Of course I’m back,” he said, stepping closer. He drew his bottom lip in between his teeth and worried it between his teeth for a moment. You watched as he reached in his back pocket and pulled out the pregnancy test.

Your heart was pounding.

“I, uhh—I found this. Ya were asleep and—” He gulped. “It’s positive, right? Means you’re pregnant.” It really wasn’t a question.

Daryl could see your chest heaving a little with your nervous breaths. You nodded.

Daryl stared down at it for a long moment before he looked back up at you. “What do you wanna do?” he asked.

You stared at him. He looked so calm while you felt like you were spinning. “I don’t—I don’t know—I—” You forced in a breath. “We’ve never talked about what you want. Hell, we’ve never talked about what I want either…”

“I know what I want. I want you. That’s more than I could ever ask for,” he said, stepping closer toward you again. “But this? This is your decision. And whatever you decide is fine by me.”

You were almost overwhelmed with emotion immediately, just hearing him speak those words. Daryl saw it and he couldn’t resist breaking the buffer of space between you any longer. He clasped your face in both hands as the tears finally broke free of your eyes and traveled down your cheeks. “Hey. S’alright,” he murmured to you. He wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you against him tightly. “M’right here.”

You pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes. “You’re really okay with… either way?” you asked him, uncertainty still plain in your eyes.

He nudged his nose up in a nod. “Ya. Promise.” He smoothed his hands over your back.

You leaned your head against his chest for a moment and listened to his strong and steady heart. Daryl gently stroked your hair, enjoying the feeling of you against him and the silky strands of your hair under his fingertips.

You squeezed your eyes shut, part of you still bracing against some worst-case scenario you knew would never come, but that nagging doubt wouldn’t be completely silenced. Your voice was soft, but Daryl still heard it as clear as day. “I think—I want to do this. With you.” You pulled back slightly and looked up, meeting Daryl’s waiting blue eyes. You had barely gotten the words out before he had wrapped you up again and picked you up off your feet, hugging you so tightly he squeezed a little air from your lungs. You let out a surprised laugh as he set you back down, about to speak again, but he clasped your face and kissed you feverishly before you could start. It was like a warm shot of bourbon or that first warm day of sunshine after a long winter. It was urgent and soft at the same time, pleading and needy but affirming, his fingers in your hair.

When he finally pulled back there was a smile crinkling the corner of his blue eyes as they flickered between yours. You were sure you had a slight look of shock on your face still despite the bewildered smile you were now wearing.

“We’re doin’ this?” he asked, not releasing his gentle hold on your face.

You nodded. “We are.” Your heart was pounding. “Oh my God, we are…”

Daryl kissed you again and you sunk into it deeply this time. His hands came to rest on your hips and you stared up at him, still feeling a little like you were spinning. “I didn’t know how you’d—because of your life growing up…” you trailed off.

He nodded. “I know. But I ain’t my dad,” he said forcefully. “You’ve shown me that more than anyone.”

“I woke up and Carol said you just went running off and I—I didn’t know what to think when I realized the test was gone and that you must have seen it,” you admitted.

Daryl’s brow furrowed and he shook his head as he looked at you. “Ya thought I would leave ya?”

“No! No, I didn’t—but then—I just—I guess I got scared… This whole thing is a little overwhelming.”

“Hey. C’mere,” he said, wrapping you up in his arms again and pressing you against him. “I ain’t never leavin’ ya. Never. You’re—you’re my everythin’.”

You breathed him in for a moment before pulling back. “Well, then where did you go?”

One corner of his mouth twitched up and he laced his fingers with yours. “C’mon. I’ll show ya.”

You followed him down the stairs and back into the prison to the cellblock. It seemed that everyone was already asleep except for the two of you, satisfied once Daryl was back that they didn’t need to wait up worrying anymore like you were. When you climbed the stairs into your space, Daryl bent down and pulled a duffel bag out from under the bed. It looked like it was stuffed full. He knelt down beside it and unzipped it.

You stared down at the contents and then met his blue eyes. “This is what you were doing?”

He nudged his nose up at you in a nod, pressing his lips together a little nervously. Now you were the one who grabbed him and kissed him desperately.

The bag was full of things you would need during a pregnancy and for a baby; pre-natal vitamins, bottles, pacifiers, blankets, diapers. Your heart swelled as you looked down at it and then back at Daryl again. You shook your head. “You just—you amaze me,” you said.

He shrugged, still a little bashful when you directly complimented him even after all this time. He reached back under the bed and pulled out a second bag. You gave him a questioning look. “What is that?”

“In case ya decided the other way,” he said. “S’mostly just some random things ya like. Books and…” He shrugged again.

“So—Baby was Plan A?” you asked him as he climbed to his feet.

“You were Plan A. Ya always were and ya always will be.”

You looped your arms around his neck and his hands reflexively landed gently on your lower back. “But—you were hoping—?”

He paused thoughtfully for a moment and then nodded. “If ya woulda asked me a week ago I don’t know what I woulda said. But as soon as I picked up that damn test up and looked at it… And then I looked at ya just layin’ there asleep, all wrapped up with my poncho the way you were… I knew what I was hoping for. But I mean it when I say that anything you decided would be fine. You’re the one who as to do the hard part.”

You arched up onto your toes and kissed him again, sliding your fingers into his hair and feeling calm and happy again for the first time since you had sent out for the test. “How’d I get so lucky finding you?” you asked him quietly. Daryl felt his heart skip a beat and electricity zipped up his back. You always did that to him. Easily. Still.

“I ask myself that all the damn time,” he drawled. “Now c’mon. Ya need rest.”

You nodded and realized that despite sleeping most of the day, you were exhausted. Anxiety will do that… “I suppose you think this means you’re gonna be able to boss me around now?” you joked, settling into bed.

“Damn right,” he said with a smirk, pushing the duffels of supplies back under the mattress. “Gotta make sure ya take care of yerself and the little one. I’m gonna boss ya around all the damn time.” He kicked off his boots and slipped into bed next to you, immediately moving until his body was pressed against yours and he could wrap an arm over you. You slipped your fingers between his. “Gonna tell Hershel he can boss ya around too,” he joked. “And Carol. And Rick. And Maggie. And—”

“Alright, that’s enough,” you laughed.

Daryl smiled to himself and kissed your neck. “We’re doin’ this,” he said softly.

You sighed contentedly and nodded. “We are.” And that night you had no trouble sleeping.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #daryl dixon one shots

[rozugold]

Don’t Look Too Hard, You Won’t Like The Scars

A fic where Tommy does some self reflecting (literally haha!) and comes to a realization. Ft. Therapuffy and some Clingy Duo

Warnings: Some brief descriptions of death, violence and scars. Be safe!

(Word count: 3.2k)

Note: I’m not a writer! This is my first fic so don’t expect anything super crazy. Words are hard ;;;;

——————————

“You wear a headband.”

Tommy looks up from his lap, a bit surprised by the sudden shift in Puffys tone.

“Did you make it yourself?”

He feels dread creep into his chest. His gaze quickly returns to his lap, hands fiddling with the ends of his red scarf.

Puffy sits up, her demeanor back into ’therapy mode’ Tommy calls it. He always finds it strange how one minute it feels like he’s just hanging out with a friend and the next he’s telling a doctor why he’s all messed up.

Though Puffy is great at easing back into serious discussions, he just thinks he wasn’t picking up on her hints. Tommy wanted to keep up the lighthearted conversation, he didn’t want to address his issues today.

But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it?

“Yep.”

Tommy didn’t have much else to add.

He did make the headband. Tightly woven thread, a deep blue color made from Friend’s wool. He reaches a hand up to his forehead to make sure it was still in place.

He glances at the clock on the wall, noticing the orange sky outside the windows. They should be nearing the end of today’s session, so why the sudden interest in Tommy's headband?

“It looks really cool. ” She smiles, shifting her eyes from it to meet Tommy’s. “If you’re comfortable with answering, is there any specific reason you wear it?”

Ah…

There it was.

Therapy question.

Tommy felt his expression sour, ready to throw out some petty remark. How it’s none of her business and how this discussion will be completely unnecessary.

Instead he takes a breath.

From the few therapy sessions Tommy’s had, he’s learned that it’s better to have an open mind to Puffy’s questions, no matter how strange they are.

“Cuz I look like a freak without it.” The statement comes out more bitterly than he expected.

He remembers the way Tubbo stared at him, Ranboo’s concerned glances, Jack’s disgusted looks. He remembers the way his own face grimaced when he finally set eyes on his reflection. Tommy was quick to cover himself up with bandages then.

To hide what happened to him.

Puffy pushes back her fluffy chocolate colored hair off her shoulders, raising an eyebrow at Tommy’s response.

“Why would you ‘look like a freak’ Tommy?”

Her voice is gentle, always gentle when asks him these kinds of questions. Like she doesn’t want to scare him away.

Tommy bites his lip for a moment.

He could try brushing it off, like he did when she had asked about his scarf.

“It’s a me and Tubbo thing and that’s all. You wouldn’t get it.”

It was only partially true. Puffy accepted it anyway and moved on to something else.

Lying didn’t make Tommy feel any better then, he doubts it will this time.

“When I died in the… Y’know.. it left a mark. And it never went away.”

The potato used to aid Tommy’s death might as well have been a brick. The final hit slammed into his head and a loud sickly crack echoed through his ringing ears. Tommy’s body slid down to the floor but he didn’t feel the pain anymore. All too slowly the overbearing taste and smell of metal faded, along with Tommy’s wheezing breaths. He was left staring at the lava with glassy eyes.

Until there was nothing.

“It’s big and ugly and I hate it.” Tommy hastily adds, squeezing his crossed arms tightly.

Puffy looks down at the little notepad in her lap.

“I see. You know, It’s okay to feel upset over scars or feel self conscious about them...”

Tommy’s not self conscious.

He’d just rather have them covered up so he’d stop getting the annoying stares. No matter if the weather was horrendously hot and wearing the headband was near torturous.

Out of sight out of mind is how Tommy liked it.

”But, ” Puffy continues, “..I can’t imagine it feels nice to hate parts of yourself.”

Tommy’s eyes snap up to meet Puffy’s, anger bubbling up in his chest.

“Well I didn’t ask for this to be part of me did I?.” He grits through his teeth.

Tommy didn’t ask for Dream to kill him.

He didn’t ask for the constant nightmares or the headaches and bloody noses that came from the aftermath of his last death.

He has all the right to hate Dream and the stupid scar he gave him.

Puffy looks at him with a small, sad smile.

“No, I know. I don’t think anyone likes to have physical reminders of past traumatic events.”

She leans forward, setting the notebook to the side.

“But once they’re there we can’t undo them. We’ve gotta learn to accept them as part of ourselves in order to move on.”

She reaches out her hands to Tommy’s, pulling them forward to hold between the two of them. Like she always does when she really wants Tommy to listen.

“No matter who or what caused them, scars are your own, Tommy. You shouldn’t feel ashamed of them.”

Tommy looks down at his hands in Puffy’s.

They rested awkwardly in her small hands, littered with white faded scratch marks. They’re calloused and rough from all the years of yielding weapons and tools.

He glances at Puffy’s hands, hers clear of any scars. They're softer than his. And so much stronger.

He looks up.

“You want me to love myself in order to be happier?” He says slowly, his words dripping with skepticism.

Puffy shrugs a little, her sheep ears flicking nervously.

“Kinda, I know saying it like that sounds silly but it’s true. Feeling comfortable in your own skin is an important step for the healing process.”

Tommy jerks his hands back, tucking them under his armpits.

He’s been uncomfortable in his own skin long before the prison visit.

Puffy wasn’t fazed, almost like she expected him to pull back. Annoyance and a twinge of guilt creeps up Tommy’s throat. He hates how predictable he is.

“Sounds dumb.” He declares loudly.

Puffy only hums in acknowledgment, already scribbling in her notepad. She then rips the page off, handing it to Tommy.

“Here, I want you to try something.”

———

Tommy shuts the door to his dirt shack, feeling the walls shudder from it’s weight. He’s really gotta fix up his house at some point. Dirt could only stand for so long before the roof falls apart. Especially if it rained.

He takes a breath, exhausted from today’s mining session. Fixing his house is on the list for tomorrow then. He tosses the nearly broken pickaxe to the side and starts walking across the room to the other.

He enters the smooth stone room, sparing a glance to the old railway track in the corner. Tommy ignores the ache in his chest and turns his attention to the bucket of water he’d left next to the doorway.

He dips his hands in the water, cringing slightly when he realizes a second too late that he didn’t roll up his sleeves. Tommy continues anyway, rubbing the dirt and grime off his hands. Once he’s done he pats his pants to dry them when he hears a crinkle. He scowls, confused as he reaches in his pocket pulling out a crumpled piece of paper.

Oh.

Tommy had almost forgotten about his last therapy session with Puffy. And he’s completely forgotten about the homework she gave him. He scans the words on the paper until the ache in his chest comes back heavier.

Before the next session I want you to try this exercise to feel more comfortable with yourself. Sit in front of a mirror with your headband off for at least ten minutes a day. You don’t need anybody to see, just you by yourself. You could even bring something to do during your ten minutes, as long as you’re in view of the mirror. Try to not let yourself think negatively about your appearance and even try complimenting yourself. The goal of this exercise is to normalize the feeling of being without your headband and to feel more positive in your body. We’ll talk more about it next session, please give it a try. I know you can do it.

…

Well, shit.

Tommy folds the paper back up. Next therapy session is tomorrow. He thinks about the different ways he could get out of doing the task. He could rip it up and say he lost it. He could lie and say he did it so they could move on to a different problem to fix.

But instead, Tommy sighs and shoves the paper back in his pocket. He won’t admit it but he really does want to get better. He wants the heavy weight on his chest to finally disappear.

He also just doesn’t want to disappoint Puffy, probably more than he doesn’t want to do her weird exercise. Probably.

So He rolls up his damp sleeves and finds himself rummaging through his old chests down in the basement. He recalls having a pretty decent mirror somewhere.

Tommy wasn’t the kind to care too much about his looks. There were always more pressing matters to worry about than fretting over acne and messy hair. But he remembers distantly when younger him did care.

Back during L’Manburg days he remembers having the brand new mirror up in his bathroom. If he remembers right it was a gift from Wilbur.

‘Can’t have my right hand man looking like a feral raccoon’ He’d say, his tone always fond.

Tommy used to spend hours in the early morning in front of the mirror. Dampening his hair with water to keep it from fluffing up too much and fiddling with his uniform so it’d stay straight and neat. He always tried to look professional, eager for Wilbur’s approval. But he was always too busy to notice Tommy’s efforts.

Tommy shakes off the memory and finally feels cold smooth glass at the bottom of the chest. He pulls out the dusty square mirror, smaller than he remembered. He wipes it with his damp sleeve, careful to avoid the cracks at the edge. When he pulls his hand back he’s met with his tired reflection.

Tommy looks away and brings the mirror back into the smooth stone room. Or technically his bedroom now that he thinks about it. Though he hasn’t slept in it for a while, opting to crash wherever is most convenient. Recently it’s been down in his stone mine.

He props the mirror against the wall and sits on the ground in front of it. He finds himself scowling at his reflection when he realizes what he needs to do next.

Slowly, his hands reach to the back of his head, taking his time to undo the loose knot of the headband. Once it was undone the blue cloth falls away, landing in his lap.

Tommy cringed.

He wasn’t sure what he expected. For the scar to just magically disappear? For it to be faded enough to be unnoticeable? For it to start bleeding again?

It did neither of those. It was the same as ever, a jagged shape of raised pink skin that contrasted Tommy’s pale face. It wasn’t like the white scar on his cheek. This scar was a death mark. Permanent.

Anger and shame twisted in his chest.

If only Dream had suffocated him or drowned him, given him a death that bore no scar.

No.

”I shouldn't have died in the first place.” Tommy reminds himself.

But he did.

All because he wasn’t strong enough to fight him off. To prevent Dream from landing the killing blow.

Tommy blinks, tears already stinging the corners of his eyes. He looks down in his lap, taking in a deep breath. This is why he keeps his scar covered. Too many overwhelming feelings rush through him, trapping him just like those damn obsidian walls.

He looks back up at his reflection and tries focusing on anything but the scar. He stares at his nose, slightly crooked and big as ever. He shifts his attention to his eyes, almost as grey as the stone walls when he’s not wearing anything blue to bring them out.

He glances at the fading scar on his cheek, another thing caused by Dream. He had refused to surrender his items to him during exile, not believing Dream would actually hurt him for such a dumb reason.

The shock hurt more than the sharp sting on his face.

And now Tommy’s eyes are back on his scar.

He buries his head in his hands and lets out a frustrated grumble into his palms. He drags his hands down his face, doing his best ‘I’ll kill you’ expression at the mirror. He’s ready to be done with this dumb excersise.

Try complimenting yourself.

Tommy clears his throat.

“Uh, lookin' good big man... Nice eyebrows.”

He tries throwing on his fake bravado, realizing it’s much harder to do when it’s just him.

Silence.

Of course, what else was he expecting?

A response?

He feels embarrassment twist in his gut.

This is stupid.

Tommy reaches forward and pulls the mirror face down. At least he tried. He sure didn’t make it the full ten minutes but an effort was made and Puffy will just have to deal with it.

He wonders how Tubbo handled it. Tubbo with skin of steel, that never lets the ghosts haunt his mind. Who was never bothered by the burns that covered half his face.

Tommy was more upset over the firework scars than Tubbo. Every time he saw him he had to try and mask his anger for what happened to his friend. Tubbo could always see through Tommy’s strained smiles and end up reassuring him that he was fine.

He had them bandaged for the war against Marburg but after that he never tried to hide them. And sure, there were nights where Tubbo would whisper his fears to Tommy. But they were never about his appearance.

…

...Except-

“Do they look weird?”

Tommy looks up.

Tubbo shifts from foot to foot in front of him. He’s wearing a brand new suit, the one that always hung in Wilbur’s closet, untouched until now. Tommy had to tailor the long sleeves for him but even after that it hung awkwardly off Tubbo.

Said boy fiddled with the red tie, keeping his gaze to the floor. Tommy didn’t pick up on his nervousness.

He snorts.

“Definitely. You look all old and shit in that suit.”

Tubbo’s frown deepens, eyes still on the floor.

“No, I mean…” His voice trails off.

He raises a hand to the side of his face, tracing the burn marks. Like he memorized each line.

Tommy’s smirk instantly falls, realization finally sinking in.

“No, not at all big man. You look fine.”

Tommy’s voice is quieter but the words come without hesitation. Tubbo doesn’t look convinced. His hands restlessly try to straighten his already straightened tie.

“It’s just- I don’t know. I feel like… you know… like they-“ Tubbo lets out a frustrated huff through his nose.

His hands are fists around his crumpled tie.

Tommy reaches his own hand out, an offer. Tubbo immediately takes it.

Tommy guides him to the floor next to him. They sit shoulder to shoulder in silence, Tubbo gently playing with Tommy’s fingers in his hands. Tommy doesn’t push him to talk, instead he tilts his head to look up at the ceiling.

The support beams are still visible, the new wooden house still under construction. It’s meant to be Tommy’s residence here in New L’Manburg. He hasn’t moved anything in yet.

Tubbo pauses and takes in a deep breath. He lays his palm against Tommy’s.

“I don’t want them to treat me any different. I mean I know I’m president now and that’s gonna happen anyways…”

His fingers interlock with Tommy’s and squeezes them tightly.

“But I don’t want them to be.. scared of me. Or grossed out. Like, there’s no war anymore, people have more time to observe me and talk about me-“ Tubbo’s voice cracks and he falls silent.

Tommy squeezes his hand back.

“You’re still Tubbo.” Tommy replies quietly. He turns to him, meeting wide blue eyes.

“You’re still the same guy who tricked Dream during the revolution. The same one who helped me get the discs back. The same weirdo that refuses to kill a bee even if it’s attacking me.”

Tubbo chuckles.

“My point is, even if you look different, the real ones will still care about you.”

Tommy rubs his thumb against Tubbo’s hand. Tubbo stares at him with watery eyes.

“And if they don’t then I’ll fuckin’ kill ’em! So don’t even worry about it.”

Tubbo lets out a little laugh at the remark but Tommy still sees the way his bottom lip quivers.

Tommy sighs dramatically and opens his arms. Tubbo sinks into the hug instantly, his hands clinging to his shirt. His sharp intakes of breath muffled against Tommy’s shoulder.

Tommy rubs his back in an effort to soothe him, feeling just a bit awkward. He was never good at handling emotional stuff. He’s also not great at expressing his feelings through words. He can only hope he said the right things to make Tubbo feel better.

“Thank you.” Tubbo mumbles, pulling back and wiping his eyes with his palms.

Tommy smiles, relieved.

“Hey, I only let you cry on me so you wouldn’t get snot all over your suit.”

Tubbo smacks his shoulder in retaliation making Tommy scream out in an embarrassingly high pitch. They both bursted into laughter, their loud voices fading into the night.

…

Tommy lifts up the mirror with trembling hands, bringing it up to his face. There’s millions of flaws, visible or invisible, that he could point out. Millions of reasons for no one to care about him.

But they still do, don’t they?

Tubbo still shows up whenever he calls. Ranboo is always there to lend a hand. Even Puffy still chats with him despite knowing the darker parts of him.

“…Even if you look different, the real ones will still care about you.”

Tommy tugs his scarf off in a haste, the wool becoming suffocating to him.

He’s always covered himself, from the long sleeves to his baggy pants tucked into his boots. To the stupid headband and scarf.

Desperate to hide the ugliness Dream left in him.

But Tommy wasn’t the only one who was hurt.

He thinks of Tubbo. He remembers seeing how overgrown his hair had gotten, fluffing up and covering most of his face. How he had denied every offer Tommy made to cut it.

Does Tubbo still know how loved he is?

…

Does Tubbo think the same about Tommy?

He knows his brain always makes him think the worst. Always twisting others words and convincing himself that they only want to hurt him. Maybe Tubbo’s sad stares weren’t pity.

Maybe they were just genuine fucking concern.

Tommy lowers the mirror to his lap. His shoulders tremble, burying the sobs that threaten to break free deep inside his chest. He takes in a shuddering breath, finally feeling the hot tears run down his cheeks. He moves to wipe his face when he feels the headband in his lap.

Tommy pauses, looking down at the blue cloth with blurry eyes.

He brings it up and ties it back around his head.

One day he’ll walk out of his house uncovered and unashamed. But not today.

Tommy gets up from the stone floor with shaky legs.

He knows what he wants to talk about in the next therapy session.

And he knows he needs to talk to Tubbo.

#dream smp #dream smp fic #tommyinnit #captain puffy #Tubbo #mcyt #oh gosh do I need a writing tag #rozu writes #yay #now scuse me while i go hide #rozu art

[pagankingfinn]

Izuku Midoriya was in a bitter mood. Not only had Katsuki destroyed his personal effects, the nasty angry pomeranian had to throw them out the window into the polluted and neglected koi pond below their classroom window. The burning words he added on still stuck with the broccoli haired boy, haunting him as they endlessly echoed through his skull.

“If you want to be a hero so badly there might be a faster way to do it, take a swan dive off the roof of the building and pray for a quirk in your next life,” Katsuki had spat at him, laughing with his cronies about how they bullied him. Izuku had glared at him, but any courage he had was gone with an explosion from the school’s king bee.

By the time Izuku had gotten his book from the koi pond, it was burned, tinged an ugly color from the water, chewed on by the fish, and utterly destroyed. He couldn’t even read his notes, having bled into the paper and through the pages. With a tears in his eyes he clutched the ruined journal to his chest and began his trek home.

“You can’t just go around telling people to kill themselves. What if I really jumped, what would he do then?” Izuku bitterly mumbled to himself as he walked. He wasn’t paying attention as he did so, getting jumped by a slime like being as he walked through an underpass. The book fell to the ground as he struggled to remove the vile substance penetrating his nose and mouth, not only did it smell awful, it tasted even worse.

It was saying something to him, but he couldn’t process what it was. His brain too focused on survival to even bother listening to whatever the invasive criminal had to say. Suddenly there was a flash of light as he and the sludge went flying, he hit a concrete wall in his flight. His head banging against it as he lost consciousness.

He woke up an uncertain amount of time later when someone was desperately patting his face. Slowly he looked up, only to jump back in surprise when he saw who it was. It was his idol, All Might, standing over him in a tee-shirt and olive green cargo pants. Quickly he scrambled for his notebook, only to see it was already signed by the hero.

“Wait, Mr. All Might, I have a question to ask you. Can I still be a hero, even without a quirk?” He blurted out when he turned to see the hero about to jump away. What he said next utterly crushed Izuku.

“Some villains just can’t be beat without powers, so no, I honestly don’t think you can become a hero.” And with that the blonde man jumped away, only for the bottles in his cargo pants to fall out and burst open. Izuku let out a screech of alarm as the sludge started forming together and woke up.

Izuku turned tail and ran as fast as he could. He could hear his attacker behind him, jeering as he chased Izuku, telling him to stop running and that he just wanted to talk. Izuku didn’t listen, holding his hands over his nose and mouth as he ran. His lungs began wheezing and his legs screamed at him, but he couldn’t allow himself to stop running for even a moment.

The hot breath of the person behind him was ever present. Izuku wasn’t paying much attention to where he was going, desperately weaving through streets and alleys. Nobody even stopped to help him, just watching in silence as they moved out of the way. He had no idea why this guy was so fixated on him, perhaps because he was an easy target. Quirkless, unathletic, and small.

He didn’t notice when he sprinted past his classmates, barely acknowledging when he heard explosions. It was only when he tossed a look over his shoulder that he saw what was going on. Katsuki and his cronies were now following Izuku when they discovered that their quirks had no impact on the perpetrator.

They got to the end of an alley near the main street, when Izuku heard his tormentor trip. He turned around to help him back up, only to stumble back when the sludge enveloped his friend. Explosions from Katsuki’s palms sent flaming bits of sludge everywhere, fires starting wherever they landed.

Only now did people actually stop, yelling for someone to call the pros as Izuku sat there frozen on the ground, his brain struggling to process what was going on. Why couldn’t he move? Why wasn’t anyone helping?

Then Izuku noticed the only solid part of the villain, his eyeball. Grabbing his backpack he stood up and ran at the person. Only to flinch back before throwing his backpack directly at the villain. It struck him in the eyeball, causing him to momentarily lose his form as Izuku grabbed Katsuki by the arm and pushed him to the end of the alley.

He followed, only to be tripped and land face first on the concrete. He saw the shadow above him and could only scream before he was being dragged away. His throat and nose were filled once again, the being holding him up in the air as he struggled. Tears began to stream down his face as he got weaker. The pros had arrived but weren’t doing anything, only watching while the bystanders congratulated Katsuki for his bravery.

This was it, Izuku was going to die here. He had already been light headed from running, and now his brain only screamed even more for oxygen. It was getting harder to move, he was only distantly aware of the cameras filming this for the news. He knew that his mother would probably see this, he became more desperate when he realized that. Flailing in the air as he kicked wildly once again, thrashing until he felt his foot connect with something solid and he was suddenly dropped.

He scrambled to safety without thinking before coughing up what was left of the sewage in his throat. His sinuses burned as he shuddered in disgust. He didn’t seem to notice when the very same person who had saved him came flying in and made it rain the disgusting green goop with a punch.

Afterwards Izuku grabbed his stuff, and sat there bitterly while he was laughed at. The pros were lecturing him, while his bully was praised for his bravery in sacrificing a quirkless boy to ensure his flashy quirk would still be around. Eventually Izuku stood up while being lectured, he was so tired of everything, so sick of being thought of as anything but human because he didn’t have a quirk.

He walked away silently, not listening as the pro hero called after him. Not that they would chase him anyways, that would just be a waste of their precious time. And yet they had the time to stand around as a kid was nearly murdered in front of them. He was almost home when he was stopped by Katsuki, who grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him to the ground.

“Who do you think you are? A weakling like you, saving me! Get back in your place Deku, you’re nothing but a waste of air anyways! You’re lucky my home is in the other direction, or I’d kill you right here and now,” Katsuki growled out as he stepped on Izuku’s wrist until it snapped, he stormed off afterwards and left him there with a broken wrist.

Despite being in agony, he could only think about how he should get back to giving up on his dreams. He stumbled home, holding his wrist the entire way. It was dark out by the time he finally got home, slipping through the front door. His mother was upon him immediately, sobbing as she pulled him into a tight embrace.

Izuku felt tears spilling out of his eyes as he hugged her back. He was sobbing, snot running down his face while his eyes became red and puffy. He barely managed to say that his wrist was broken before his mother was grabbing her things and rushing him off to the hospital. They had an older car, but it still ran. Inko, Izuku’s mother, didn’t use it all too often.

Despite the horrendous condition of traffic, they made it to the hospital fairly quickly. Izuku was signed in to the E.R., where he was finally able to explain what happened when the doctor asked how he broke his wrist.

“A classmate of mine and I got caught up in the sludge incident today, and he was angry that a quirkless kid managed to get him out while the pro heroes just stood and watched. He approached me later on my way home, and threw me to the ground before stepping on my wrist until he heard it snap,” Izuku explained quietly. He didn’t include the part where he had threatened to kill him tomorrow. His mother sat in silence, clutching her skirt in her fists. He was only able to speak because he had been given some painkillers.

“I see, we’ll have to do an x-ray to determine the damage,” The doctor explained. Izuku nodded before he was led out of the room. The rest of the hospital visit was as to be expected. He was given a cast for his hand, and after they left his mother called him out of school for the rest of the week.

The car ride home was in silence, finally Izuku spoke only after they had gotten to their apartment.

“Mom, I need to talk to you,” he spoke once the door behind them was closed. His mother gave him a worried look as she responded.

“Sure, why don’t we go sit down?” She suggested, getting a nod in response from her son. The two of them sat down on the light blue living room couch, Izuku took a moment to gather his thoughts. His adams apple bulging when he swallowed.

“Today… There’s more to it than Katsuki breaking my wrist. Today he… He told me to take a swan dive off the roof, and hope I get a quirk… in my next life. He utterly destroyed my Hero Analysis journal, and even though he says he stopped bullying me whenever you talk to Mitsuki, he doesn’t stop,” he spoke as he fidgeted with his pant leg. He could practically hear his mother’s look of horror, pausing for a second before he continued.

“And… The sludge “villain”, he didn’t attack me just once. I was walking through an underpass when he attacked me. All Might saved me, but I’m lucky I didn’t get a concussion when he blasted me into the wall with his punch. He went through my things… he signed my notebook… and I asked him if I could become a hero,” Izuku explained, swallowing once again so that he wouldn’t choke on his own spit. He spoke in a dismal tone the entire time, voice cracking as he forced back tears.

“He told me that I couldn’t become a hero because I didn’t have any power… He jumped away, the same guy who attacked me both times was stored in a pair of soda bottles, and the bottles fell out of his pocket. They… they burst open when they hit the ground, so I ran. He chased me the entire time, not a single person bothered to stop and help me. It wasn’t until Katsuki got involved that they stopped to get help, but the pros didn’t do anything after he was safe,” he spoke, sobbing at this point as his voice trembled. His mother hugged him tightly as he trembled, the fear he felt finally hitting him full force.

He pulled away a couple moments later, determined to keep going even if he could barely think about the entire event without freezing up.

“And… you saw the news, how Katsuki was congratulated for… for sacrificing... me to save his own quirk,” he whispered in distress. Inko quietly hushed him as she pulled him closer, crying as well. Neither of them knew how much time had passed before Izuku spoke up again.

“Would you be upset if I got a second chance at life?” He asked, moving away to pick at his cast. His mother looked mortified at the suggestion that she’d even blame him for wanting to start over. She knew about what her son went through, even if he didn’t tell her, because a mother always knows.

“Izuku, why would I be upset? You’ve struggled all your life, and if starting over means that you’re happy then I won’t stop you. Just tell me if you want to start over and I’ll see what I can do,” Inko responded, Izuku gave her a crooked smile before hugging her once again and thanking her profusely.

That night after they ate, Izuku hopped into his computer and began scouring the internet for a way to entirely forget his past. It wasn't until the early hours of the next day when the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon that he found what he was looking for.

Hastily he scribbled down the address before he finally let exhaustion take over and he crawled into bed. He slept well past noon, waking up around the time he would be leaving school.

#wiccankingfinn #mha #mha au #bnha au #bnha #long post #wip #finn writes #story writing #tw suicide baiting #tw violence #guess the au #tw hospital #not complete #this child gon be traumatized #but only for a second

[marsupials-of-mars]

🤒 roman and Remus? Brotherly sick care? Lol

Roman sniffed. He shuddered at the gunk that slid down the back of his throat as a result. The others were out, helping Thomas with some situation. Patton had been tending to Roman for the past two days, and without him Roman finally realized how helpless he really was. He was thirsty, and his glass next to his bed was empty. He could manage that at LEAST.

Roman pushed out of bed, stabilizing against the mattress as he righted himself. He took a hesitant step. The room spun less than the time he'd tried previously. With newfound confidence, he marched his way into the hallway, halfway to the kitchen, and promptly blacked out.

"Roman? Broman? Wake up shithead!" Roman woke to a stinging on his left cheek. He cracked his eyes open. It was dark save for two glowing neon green eyes hovering above him.

"Remus? Why is it so dark?"

"Oh bummer, you're awake. I was hoping I could slap you one more time... You're in my room, just let your eyes adjust."

Roman caught the smell before he could do any adjusting. He gagged and barely managed to make it to the edge of the bed before throwing up.

"That's it Ro Ro, let it all out, I'm here to help!" Roman felt Remus's hand on his back, lovingly stroking up and down as he vomited. He sat up and smacked it away.

"Why am I in your room?"

"I found you passed out in front of my door and nobody was around. You were all pasty, I decided to take it upon myself to nurse you back to health!"

Roman shook his head. "No. Absolutely not. I was doing fine kn my own."

"Should I repeat that I found you unconcious on the hardwood floor in the hallway?"

Roman groaned. His fever still had him sticky and uncomfortable and he could hardly think of standing without feeling nauseous. He supposed he didn't have much choice.

"Alright, you can help, but is there somewhere less... abhorrently disgusting I can stay?" Roman's eyes had adjusted to the dark room. It was slimy, in more ways than one. The walls and ceiling were covered in blood and black mold, the floor was coated with a good few inches of homogeneous sludge with the odd body part or weapon breaching the surface. The bed Roman was laying on was covered in crumbs, as well as crusty patches he tried not to think too much about.

"My brother, picky picky. Fine your majesty, I'll whip up something more to your liking."

He gestured to the corner with a flourish. The sludge dwindled somewhat In a square patch and a bed appeared in the middle. The pattern was horrendous, muddy and neon colors clashing together and terrifying clown faces dotting the comforter. It did look much cleaner however, and Roman understood that with his brother's powers it would be one or the other, ugly or clean. He appreciated it. Maybe this wouldnt be so bad.

"Alright. Up!" Remus wedged his arms underneath his brother and hoisted him up. He was surprisingly strong considering his scrawny limbs.

"REMUS! I can walk myself!"

"You proved the opposite trying to walk down that hallway, not taking any chances." He rolled Roman onto the bed and sat down at the foot. "So what's got you so phlegmy?"

"Art block. And writers block. Quarantine is doing me no favors."

"Never got those..."

"You don't work much with fleshed out ideas, yours are more... improv."

"Yeah, well... I guess that's just one more thing I'm better at than you."

Roman rolled his eyes and laid back on the pillow. "Can I get some water? That's what I got up for before blacking out."

"Spicy or mild? Or chunky?"

Roman stared at his brother. "Normal water. Tap water. In a cup."

"Mild it is." He left the room and returned with two cups. "One for you one for me!" He handed Roman a mug. Roman took a sip and spit it out.

"Oh! Sorry, that must be mine, I poured myself some spicy." He switched the cups.

"That was VODKA!"

"And?"

"You put it in a mug."

"Yeah? Fuck you, I like my water spicy."

"Thank god you can't get yourself killed."

"Surely that's not the first time you've thought that." Remus tipped the mug back and downed half of it. "Anything else I can get you?"

Roman sipped his water. He was overcome with relief. It tasted like water.

"Maybe an ice pack?"

Remus nodded and ran out. He returned with a plastic bag. It contained a frozen chunk of unidentifiable meat. Roman didn't care to protest as Remus handed it over. He was doing his best, better than Roman had expected.

"I'll let you rest. You seem exhausted from waking up a few minutes ago." Remus grinned and finger tased Roman in the ribs. Roman yelped and shoved him away, a bout of coughs starting up. "Whoops..."

Roman grabbed Remus's arm before he could turn to walk away. "Hey."

"What? You need something else?" Roman smiled at the tinge of genuine concern in his voice.

"No, I just wanted to say thanks. You did better than I thought you would. Which is to say I thought you'd take advantage of my weakness to overtake me in a corrupt one sided battle, but you passed that with flying colors. You're not a terrible brother."

Remus stared for a few seconds. He smiled. "You are. But I appreciate the compliment." And he left. Roman layed back on his pillow and watched the black mold pulse in the ceiling.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #creatwins

[kee-writestrashh]

It’s a Beautiful Thing

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

ao3

words: 2285

warnings: smut, drugs, alcohol, blood, whipping, choking

summary:  Shameless modern!ramsay one shot. I don't make the rules. (Based very loosely off a master/pet anon prompt request )

There were many women that came and went. But you were his favorite. From the moment he had laid eyes on you, you belonged to him. Only him. Where he would share his 'leftovers' with the Boys, you were never an item on that menu. Only he got to use you. The collar around your neck said so.

Ramsay Bolton was disgusting and horrendous. And he was your god. He gave you everything, and all you had to do was keep him happy. It was easy really. You enjoyed his sexual desires. The leather whip on your ass. The way he grabbed your hair. The way he watched you fuck another women he had brought into bed for you both to share.

You would be lying if you said you weren't just as disgusting and horrendous as your master. Because you were. To keep yourself alive. Ramsay was unforgiving, as you learned quickly. To make up for it, he bought you things. Gave you baths himself. Tended to any broken skin he left on you.

You were the bastard's bitch. And you loved every second of it.

It was an ordinary night. Ramsay had come home, covered in blood, as usual. And damn did it look good. You half rose from the couch but he had held up a hand to stop you. You were always supposed to be sitting on the couch, waiting for him. You had no life unless he gave you that life. Yesterday he had been angry, and you were the one punished for it. He took away all your 'privileges', leaving you with nothing to do but sit around all day and wait for him.

One of your friends said it was not normal. The abuse and manipulation. But, you were safe. Mostly. That's what you told yourself anyway.

"Does my daddy need something?" You purred, holding out your hands to him.

He fixed you with a long look before taking to your invite. You could smell the blood on him as he came to a halt at the edge of the couch. You nuzzled the side of your face against his hip, arms wrapping around his thighs.

He brought a hand to cup the other side of your face as he stroked your hair gently with his other hand. You chanced a glance up, seeing him gaze down at you, a dark shadow behind those pale eyes. "I had a bad day, kitten." He sighed.

"Does daddy wanna talk about it? It surely can't have been all bad, you're all covered in blood." You hummed, looking up at him innocently.

"Go put on that new dress. And then bring me your collar. Be a good girl for daddy, mkay?" He said almost dismissively, pulling away from you.

You gave him a small, almost grateful smile. It only meant good things for you when he told you to put on a new dress. This one was hardly a dress at all. If anyone dared look to hard they would be able to see all of you. Ramsay liked these dresses best. He liked to parade you around in front of his friends. And it made you feel incredibly sexy.

You changed slowly, taking time at examining yourself in the mirror. Fading bruises and fresh ones adorning your skin. Many of them a result from bite marks. He could be an animal when it suited him. You picked up the leather collar from the dresser and left the room.

It wasn't hard to find Ramsay. The noise from the basement was enough. You slowly walked down the steps, the smell of alcohol,  cigarette smoke, and marijuana smoke hitting you full force. There was laughing and shouting. The Boys must have shown up while you were changing.

You stood at Ramsay's side, waiting on him to take notice of you as he finished telling his story, a mid gales of laughter around the room. The table littered with beer bottles, liquor bottles, cigarettes, marijuana paraphernalia, as well as a white powdery substance you knew to be cocaine. Ramsay made you lick it up, a lot.

You stared at the small baggie on his other side for a few moments before Ramsay caught you attention by taking the collar from your hands. You snapped your eyes to him as he stood up. He pulled you closer to him, pressing his body flush to your back.

"Do you want some?" He purred against your ear as he fastened the collar.

"If it would please my master." You said slowly. Once the collar was on, you were only allowed to call him master.

"If you're a good little pet, I will let you have some." He whispered, running the tip of his tongue along your ear, making you shiver.

He sat down, pulling you into his lap. You gave a glance around the table. Alyn already fucking a group favorite. You weren't sure where she came from or who she usually came with, but your fingers had been in her cunt many times. You liked the way she kissed you. You licked your lips slightly, watching her backside as she ground her body against Alyn's lap.

Ramsay raised his brows at you, following your eyes. "Thirsty, bitch?" He half growled, fingers digging into your thigh.

"Yes." You replied automatically, knowing better than to lie to him by now.

His grip loosened slightly as he grabbed the nearest bottle of alcohol and handed it to you.

That was all your sober mind remembered.

It felt like hours since then. The mess on the table grew. More alcohol. More drugs. Guns. Money. Cards. Knives. You were pretty sure there had been a finger with a large gold ring at one point.

"Take it." Ramsay hissed at you, forcing the joint upon you again.

Your fuzzy mind and heavy hand took the item and you took a deep hit, passing it off to whoever was still sitting beside you.

Ramsay grabbed your face in his hand, forcing your head to the side and mashing his lips to yours. Ducking the smoke from your mouth. Like a demon devouring a soul.

His lips on yours made you needy. Grinding your ass into his lap. You had been horny for awhile now. The alcohol and marijuana did little to stem the buildup of sticky wetness between your legs as Ramsay would trail his fingers against the hem of your dress and place light bites against your neck as he listened to the others talk or examined his hand of cards idly.

You gave a small whimper when he pulled his lips away from yours. He narrowed his eyes and exhaled the remaining smoke from his nose on a harsh exhale.

Without warning, you found your ass on the edge of the table before you, Ramsay getting on his knees and forcing your legs apart as wide as he could. Your instability making you lean further back, catching your weight with your arms, planting your hands on the table behind you. A deep moan leaving you as you felt his tongue grace your slit, toying at your throbbing clit.

You closed your eyes hard, forgetting that anyone else was here. That you were on the table, legs spread wide, before everyone. Your mind moving in and out of focus as you felt your dress being pulled from you. Lips on yours. A dick against your lips. Down your throat. A mouth toying with your nipples. Your soaking pussy having a hard, foreign object shoved into it. Making your back arch. It seemed to go forever. How good everything felt.

Opening your eyes to find Ramsay standing to the side of the table, slowly preparing a line of coke on a small tray as he let his friends fuck you and touch you. Your mind too hazy to care. All that mattered was the way your body felt. Letting your body be used, finding the woman on top of you next.

Her tongue lightly tracing your lips before she shoved it in your mouth. You closed your eyes again, letting her explore your mouth and steal your breath as she moaned against your mouth. Realizing someone was fucking her from behind, almost jealous that no one was fucking you.

When suddenly, everything stopped and you were pulled up to sitting. Your eyes opening again to find Ramsay and his tray between your legs. He held the tray up to your face.

"Lick it up, kitten. Be a good girl. All of it." He cooed.

Slowly you placed your tongue to the cold, metal tray. The bitter taste of the powder touching your tongue almost at once.

"That's my good girl. Were my boys good to you?" He said, stroking your cheek and passing the tray off to the first set of hands he found.

"Yes, master." You panted, feeling a rush through your body.

"Good. Good." He hummed, slowly undoing his belt and sliding it from his pants.

Eyes heavy, you watched him. You knew where that belt was going. Sure enough he motioned for you to slide off the table and turn around.

With a stumble you did as requested. Your ass exposed to him. Feeling his fingertips run lightly across your skin before the leather strap came down hard, without warning.

You yelped at the pain, shifting your body.

"No." Ramsay tutted, shaking his head. "Hold her."

You couldn't move, only cry out as your ass became raw and tender. He would surely break the skin completely soon.

But he had stopped. The tip of his warm tongue running against the welts he had left on your skin. Light nips, followed by harsh bites to the most tender areas. Your whole body shaking uncontrollably as all the extra weight left your body.

"Very good girl." He praised, grabbing your hips and pulling you away from the table. Without the support of the table you fell to your knees. "Even better." He chuckled darkly, walking around to your front and shoving the table out of his way.

He quickly undid he pants and pushed them down. "Open up. It's my turn, you nasty slut."

You hardly had your mouth open when you found him shoving his dick in your mouth and grabbing your hair. Forcing you up and down on him as you struggled to breathe and kept gagging unwilling. The choking making tiny black lights flash before your eyes. On the verge of passing out.

He only laughed at your struggle and the color rising in your cheeks. Finally, he pulled away from you, allowing you to gasp for air like a diver coming to the surface of the water for air. Deep, cold lung fulls.

Ramsay released your hair and pushed you backward by the shoulder. Too intoxicated to register the movement, too late to catch yourself, you fell back onto the hard floor. Feeling your head hit the ground, but there was no immediate pain.

And nothing mattered anymore now that his body was pressed flush to yours. Shoving himself inside of you. Every thrust forceful and unrelenting. Harsh pants and grunts leaving him every time he jarred his body into yours.

Your hands finding his back and digging your nails into his skin, trying to pull him closer. Wanting him to break you, as he fucked almost screams from you.

"Who do you belong to?" He growled, his thrusting and shoving becoming more erratic and spontaneous.

"You master!" You whined, feeling as though you couldn't catch your breath again. All you could do was moan and whine under his dominance. Your nails clawing as hard as you could. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, face screwing up into pleasure as those tight coils sound tighter by the second, ready to snap at any moment.

He dropped his head, panting harshly at your ear. Teeth sinking into the skin of your neck. The sensation sent you over the edge as you felt your orgasm hit you like a blow to the gut. A sharp gasp and a shaky cry, arching your body further into him.

A rare, guttural moan leaving him as he felt your high hit him. Your walls clinging and pulsing against him as he ploughed into you over and over again. Every muscle in his body taught. Every breath he drew hitching. Until finally he reached his high. Another loud moan rumbling his chest as he pushed all his weight into you. Feeling his throbbing dick pump you full of his thick, hot cum.

You both laid motionless for many long minutes before he pulled away from you completely. He scooped you up and carried you to the empty couch, laying with you and pulling you close to him.

You cuddled into his warm skin as he wrapped his arm around you. Melting into his protection, feeling his heart hammer in his rib cage against your cheek. Your own heart still trying to remember how to beat normally.

Shifting to adjust his arm under your head, he played with strands of your hair between his fingers as his other hand rubbed up and down your back. He placed light kisses to your forehead until you shifted your head and brought your lips to his.

Gentle kisses. A rare treat for you. He even let you nuzzle closer into him. "You were such a good little pet. I enjoyed watching them take their turns with my baby girl. You look like a goddess when you get fucked. Made me ruin my pants. Did you like it?" He whispered.

Eyes closed lightly, you let a small smile from, "if my master wants me to like it."

#kee-writestrashh #kee_writestrashh #keewritestrashh #AO3 fanfic #AO3 fic #ramsay bolton fic #modern ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton x reader #shameless smut #smut #ramsay smut #master/pet #master/slave #drugs #alcohol #game of thrones fanfic #modern au #modern game of thrones #au modern #Modern Setting #got modern au #ramsay bolton imagine #ramsay bolton imagines #it's a beautiful thing #no shame #semi prompt fill

[softjeon]

Cinnamon and fairy dust | Pt. 7

• Pairing: elf!Jungkook x Taehyung • Genre: Fluff (with a little bit of angst) | elf!AU ( → Gifset Trailer) • Words: 7,5k | Co-Writer: Cat @cassiavioletblue​  • Disclaimer: mentioning of violence / smut

↳  There are no things such as fairy tales, magical reindeers that could fly, fairies and Christmas elves - at least Taehyung believed so. But everything was about to change, when Jungkook offered him shelter from a snowstorm and a sweet, hot cocoa, wondering about the boy who hated Christmas so much. Nothing that a bit of fairy dust couldn’t fix, right?

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Having Jungkook in his arms was a feeling that Taehyung could never be able to describe to someone else. It felt like home. Something warm and soft. It kept him safe. As absurd it sounded to himself, but even Christmas made sense to him now. If he could, Tae would pile the presents high for Jungkook. He’d run to the end of the world and back. Anything for Jungkook.

When the endorphins started ebbing off Jungkook sensed that he was getting cold and uncomfortable. He was still dirty from where he had come on himself - and where Tae had come inside of him. Luckily the older was as attentive as ever, noticing his discomfort and acting immediately.

“Let me clean you up, baby,” He whispered, kissing Jungkook softly on his ear, before he wrapped his arms around him and lifted the elf up. Tae could feel his own legs still being a little shaky, but he managed to get them both into the little bathroom and shower. It wasn’t really a big one, since everything Jungkook owned was very minimalistic, but it was enough to make sure the younger was all cleaned up. He didn’t let go of him once, until they were back, laying onto the mattress, Jungkook cuddling him with a sated smile. Tae hooked a finger under his chin, making the elf turn his head towards him. A sweet kiss later, when he just wanted to speak up again, he got interrupted by church bells that were echoing all through the morning.

It was Christmas.

Jungkook felt sleepy and drained, his eyes closing whenever he was nodding off for a second. But he didn’t want to sleep, he wanted to be with Tae and cuddle, breathe him in and kiss his lips until the longing in his chest would be sated. He smiled when the church bell interrupted the comfortable silence between them. He loved them.

Taehyung groaned, pulling Jungkook a little closer, waiting until the melodic sound finally stopped. “Baby?” He spoke softly, “Can…can I ask you something?”

“Hm?” Jungkook leaned his head against Tae’s shoulder trustingly, now clean and warm because of the fluffy towel that Tae had wrapped around him. His lower back hurt a little, but he tried to ignore it. “What do you want to know?” His tongue was heavy in his mouth, words sleepy and slurred.

“Do…you maybe want to come…and I don’t know, you really don’t have to, but I know my mom will want me to be home for Christmas,” He stuttered, “I mean…that’s the whole reason I am in this town…Christmas…anyways…do you want to come home? And…spend the day with us? She will probably prepare dinner and all or make you bake for her.” He looked at him anxiously, worrying that he might move a little too fast, but in the end all he wanted was just to spend time with Jungkook, especially since he had to go home soon again. But that was something he didn’t want to think about now. “We can…go and then…visit the fairies tonight? We can bring them cookies and all kinds of stuff?”

He lifted his head to look at Tae properly. “You want me to meet your mum? On Christmas?” Even he knew that humans normally spent Christmas with family - or people they were really close with. And getting to meet Tae’s family on Christmas was definitely special. He hadn’t expected this at all, so he was completely speechless for a second in which he could just blink at Tae before stuttering “Y…Yes, I’d love to…please. That sounds…nice. Really nice. You sure you want me to be there? On Christmas? With your mum?”

Taehyung nodded quick, “Well…it’s just my mom and I anyways and she would love to have someone that loves Christmas as much as she does. I bet, she won’t mind…she kind of had been asking about you already.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly, before telling Jungkook how she had seen right through him. “That’s how humans’ moms usually are…you can’t hide anything from them,” Tae said and brought his hand behind his head. “She’s probably in church right now, so we still got a bit of time,” He turned Jungkook over a little, kissing him while his hand was caressing over the elf’s thigh, before he simply laid his head on Jungkook’s chest and hugged him tight like a plushy.

“Ok then. I’d love to meet her. Just…please don’t leave me alone with her? I’m afraid I might say something wrong or accidentally rude and if you’re there you can help me, right? I’m not much around humans outside of my job so I don’t know what to say and how to behave and everything and I’m sure that on holidays and with families it’s even more important how you act so... I don’t want to do it wrong.” He was a little nervous but also excited to meet Taehyung's family. He closed his eyes when Tae hugged him tightly, just enjoying the skin ship and soaking up the affection. He felt a little vulnerable right now, a little raw, as if he had bared more than his skin to Taehyung.

“Don’t worry, babe. You’ll be more than fine,” Taehyung reassured him, “My mom is very uncomplicated, believe me.” He snuggled Jungkook a little tighter and closed his eyes. “She’s easy to impress…” Tae mumbled, before he drifted off to a little slumber, while Jungkook was caressing through his hair. They stayed like this for a while and Taehyung loved the intimacy, the closeness and warmth. It was perfect. Even if it was Christmas.

A little while later, Taehyung found himself in front of his mother’s home again. The ribbons were still there, looped up on the stairs, the large tartan bow welcoming them. The lights were blinking in all kinds of colors and Taehyung made a disgusted facial expression, but as soon as he turned around to the younger, who was looking rather fond and amazed by the decoration, a smile appeared again.

Jungkook had put on his best clothes, taking a pinch of fairy dust with him in his front pocket, just to be sure. He felt a little safer when he had something with him that reminded him of the fairies presence. Although the moment they pulled up at the Kim’s house and he saw the lovely handmade Christmas wreath at the door he relaxed a little. No one who enjoyed making Christmas wreaths could be mean, couldn’t they? Nonetheless he stood straight and attentive at Tae’s side, combing his curly hair carefully over his ears and then fixated the door.

Taehyung took Jungkook’s hand, intertwining their fingers, before he unlocked the door with his key. “Mom! I’m home and…,” Before he could end his sentence, Taehyung’s mother turned around the corner and called Jungkook’s name.

“Ah, wonderful! I just set the table for three,” She said with a big smile, walking up to the elf to give him a warm hug. Helping Jungkook out of his jacket, she was scolding Taehyung for being so late, “And why weren’t you at church? Did you have something better to do?” She shook her head, but as soon as she looked at Jungkook Tae’s mother smiled again (while Tae was mumbling something, trying to hide the blush), “I hope you’re both hungry.”

Jungkook went rigid when she hugged him, his heart beating against his ribs. He wasn’t used to this. He looked at Taehyung when his mum scolded him for not being in church, wondering if it was something that he and his mum normally did together. He himself avoided churches, he was a little scared of people who believed in monotheistic religions as they tend to be most shocked and aggressive if they got a hint of fae existing. “Y…yes, thank you. Very hungry,” He answered quickly, blushing a little because of his lie.

Taehyung put his arm around Jungkook’s shoulders, kissing the top of his head sweetly as they followed his mother towards the living room. Taehyung looked at the Christmas tree, that was horrendously big and splendorous decorated. His eyes scanned the tree once and then looked around the living room and the glory of the tinseled, ornamental wonderland of figurines, glass bulbs and electrical lights everywhere. His mother walked in, bringing some eggnog and hot chocolate, which Taehyung took right away, dipping some of the cookies into the hot beverage before munching on them happily. The only negative thing in Christmas trees was that they were to die when taken from the woods. So Jungkook was glad to see that this one had a pot with water around its stem, so it would at least stay a little longer. He suppressed the urge to go right to it, touching the needles, smelling its faint aroma of forest and nature and home. It was beautifully decorated, a praise to Christmas, festive and shining.

“I’m glad you’re here with us, Jungkook…,” She began and gave him a cup, so he could choose what he wanted to drink. Then she offered him some of her cookies with a bright smile, “They are not as good as yours of course, but they are okay, I guess.”

The elf sat down at the table, getting a hold on the hot chocolate because he wasn’t that good with alcohol. Letting his guard down wasn’t really an option he liked to explore when he was around humans. „Thank you. It’s really kind of you to invite me here.” He carefully chose a cookie and nibbled on it, his eyes widening at the taste. She was way too humble for how good they were. “Oh, they are delicious,” He told her, wondering what exactly could make Tae hate Christmas so much if he got such amazing decoration and cookies for him to see.

Taehyung was glad that Jungkook was so easily fitting in and it was only a plus, that both had so many interests alike. He groaned quietly, remembering how he had read somewhere that people tend to choose their partners resembling one of their parents. Taehyung reached out for Jungkook’s hand on the table, caressing over his soft skin, while his mother was bringing the food. He sighed in relief when he saw what she had prepared. Last year, he had to eat almost a whole turkey by himself because Tae didn’t want to disappoint his mother and show her, how much he respected the way she had prepared everything. This year however, his mother had decided on something smaller and Taehyung happily tucked in. He watched how she was easily holding up a conversation with Jungkook and Tae didn’t need to talk to her about Christmas or anything else. He wasn’t really listening, just looking out the window and watching the snowfall when he heard his name again.

Jungkook took careful bites of the Christmas dinner. It was tasty and what was even better was that Taehyung’s mum didn’t put the food on their plates but let them choose how much they wanted of everything, so he didn’t have to eat too much meat. He was more comfortable with vegetables and fruits.

“…it’s the first year, Tae wasn’t in church with me,” She started the same topic again, before leaning over to Jungkook, turning her voice down as if someone could listen but the two of them, “I only go on Christmas. It’s tradition you know, not that I necessarily believe in it… but the kids do a play and the whole village is going…and I thought…at least one thing my lovely son could do for me.” She side-eyed Taehyung with a teasing smile, knowing that he would have taken any excuse not to show up anywhere where it had to do with Christmas. Taehyung gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as an apology, before he started taking the dishes and bringing them back to the kitchen. It was always like this, she prepared the food while Taehyung did the dishes right after. Taehyung’s mother gestured towards the more comfortable couch and sat down herself, her fingers wrapped tightly around a warm cup of tea, “Tell me Jungkook…how do you spend Christmas? Do you have family somewhere else, too?”

“I’m sorry, if I had known that Tae was missing out on church I wouldn't have kept him,” He quickly apologized. When Tae started gathering the dishes Jungkook jumped up to help him, but his mum gestured for him to follow her to the couch instead. So, he sat down beside her, gulping harshly at that question.

“I..I have a brother, Yoongi.” Making up too much would be difficult, so he tried to stick as much to the truth as he could while still maintaining what humans would think of as a “normal” family. “He’s older and he takes care of me as our parents have died…from old age. We don’t really do much for Christmas as we have lots of leftover sweets from my shop anyway but... we eat Christmas pudding below the tree, with friends. That’s about it. I love Christmas though. That’s actually what intrigued me about Tae first. His obvious disinterest in it while everyone else was happy and in a festive mood. At first I thought it must be because there’s no Christmas tradition in his family but when I look around now...it’s as nice as it could be.”

Tae’s mother was listening attentively, loving the idea of sharing sweets with friends, “I am sorry for the loss of your parents, but I am glad you have wonderful friends around.” She took a sip from her cup, a sudden sadness washed over her, when Jungkook asked her about Taehyung’s dislike for Christmas.

“You know, it’s simple and it’s complicated. As a child he loved it at first,” She began, looking over to the door to see if Taehyung was coming back. He would definitely not like it, if she told Jungkook too much. “He hates when people pretend to be something they are not. Don’t tell Taetae, please, he’s… very sensitive…,” She took a deep breath, before explaining, “Taehyung’s father left us, when he was very young. He had promised him to come back on Christmas and bring him presents and take him out for dinner…but he never did. Many promises and disappointments later, Taehyung started to despite everything that had to do with Christmas. He didn’t bring anymore presents, didn’t care about anything at all. If it wasn’t for me, he probably wouldn’t be here at all and working instead,” She shrugged her shoulders, “I tried to keep the spirit up…but I guess, I failed. I hope he didn’t rip any of your beautiful decorations in your bakery or something in anger.” She chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but the image of her son, waiting desperately for his father to come back was forever engraved in her soul, no matter how hard she tried. She averted his gaze, letting it fall down, when something shiny peaked her interest, “Oh, that’s a beautiful necklace, Jungkook. Where did you get it?”

“Oh!” The elf’s eyes shone with compassion for what Tae’s broken heart. “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry” He was glad that he knew now - but he was a bit worried of how he should act towards Tae. He wasn’t sure if he could pretend as if he knew nothing in front of him now that he knew that every decoration and every Christmas cookie reminded Tae of how his father had left him behind. He was glad that the decorations and everything would come down soon now so that Tae wouldn’t have to suffer through more weeks of those kind of reminders - and people being happy about it. “Yes, I…that’s... Tae gave it to me?” He probably should have asked before if Tae’s mum would be fine with her son and him being in love, but he was still a little careful. Better safe than sorry.

“He did?” She smiled fondly, looking at the necklace more closely, “You must mean a lot to him, that he gave you something.” Gazing up at Jungkook, she leaned back to take another sip of her hot beverage, “He doesn’t bring gifts around Christmas. Ever. Not once.” She put the cup away and onto the coffee table nearby, “Do you plan on visiting him in the city? It’s so sad that he must drive home tomorrow. I haven’t had him around for long…” She winked at Jungkook, not one bit mad that he had kept Taehyung occupied.

One moment Taehyung’s mum told him how much he must mean to her son - and then her words were like a slap in the face. He paled hoping that he had misunderstood something. Or maybe that had been Tae’s plan a few weeks ago and then he had changed them and met him and... Surely Tae wouldn’t be so cruel as to not tell him about this. He ... wouldn’t just drive away and never come back. Not after... not after they... He flinched, hard, when Tae’s mum threw her hands up. He felt like there was something wrong with his chest. He couldn’t breathe.

“Oh, that reminds me…presents!” She exclaimed, walking over to the tree to sort out the little packages she had bought. Taehyung, who had finished cleaning the dishes, sat onto the armrest of the couch right next to Jungkook, leaning in to give him a kiss on his cheek. “You good? Sorry, I left you…but it’s kind of a tradition that I do the dishes,” He whispered.

Jungkook trembled when Tae came back, sitting down beside him and being his sweet self. No, Tae wouldn’t do that to him. Not in a million years. He willed himself to smile, reaching for Tae’s hand to intertwine their fingers. He needed him. He had needed him before but now that Tae had his heart he needed him even more. No matter how much he liked Christmas he couldn't care less about presents right now. All he wanted was for Tae to kiss him and tell him that he would never leave him behind. Not like this.

Taehyung noticed the panicked look on Jungkook’s face and motioned for him to shift a little, so he could sit down properly and pulled the younger on his lap. “Are you okay? You’re shaking, babe,” Taehyung asked and wrapped his arms around him to keep Jungkook warm, “We go and visit the fairies soon, okay?” He whispered and kissed the younger’s shoulder and then grabbed his chin to make the elf look at him. A soft kiss was placed on his lips, before Taehyung turned his attention back to his mother, taking the present of her with a smile. He unwrapped it with one hand, the other still holding on to Jungkook’s waist. “Here, this is for you,” Tae’s mother said and gave the younger one a little wrapped up present, “It’s not much but I thought it would be usable for you.”

“Th...thank you,” He stuttered a little in surprise, too caught up in trying to be fine. “I’m sorry, I don’t have anything for you, I didn’t think we would exchange presents. But I’ll give Tae some of my muffins for you next time I bake fresh ones, is that okay?” He carefully unwrapped the paper and out fell a pair of oven mitts that looked like they were hand knitted. “Thank you, Mrs. Kim. They are beautiful. I’ll test these out tomorrow when I reopen the bakery. Did you make them yourself?”

She proudly nodded, a smile on her lips giving away how happy she was in that moment. Taehyung leaned his head on Jungkook, while talking to his mother, letting him stay on his lap and just enjoying the warmth and closeness. He could sense that Jungkook was a little stiff and since Tae thought it was because Jungkook was missing the fairies, Taehyung told his mother that they were still expected somewhere else quickly. A confused expression appeared on his face, when his mother asked if they would visit Jungkook’s brother now but luckily Taehyung just played along.

They said their goodbyes with the promise of visiting again sometime and then they were out again in the blink of an eye. Jungkook held onto his oven mitts, his fingers trembling from what must be the cold.

Like the gentleman he was, Taehyung held Jungkook’s jacket open, so he could slip in easily, before they waved his mother goodbye. Tae quickly grabbed the elf’s hand again, as they were walking down the silent streets, only the lights illuminating the scene while the snow was falling. Everyone was inside, celebrating Christmas with their family, opening presents and just enjoying the fest of love and Taehyung could see glimpses of it through the windows they passed by, until they had reached the forest. Only then, Taehyung spoke up again, “You’ve been wonderful…with my mom, I mean. I think she already adores you a lot.” Kissing the tip of Jungkook’s cold nose, Tae looked a bit worried at the younger, “Are you okay, Jungkookie?” He cupped his cheeks, making the elf look up at him, “What’s on your mind, hm? I can see something is bothering you. Did she say something? Was…was it too much? We can go to the fairies now and if you…need some space, or something.” Taehyung was stuttering a little, thinking that it might have been too much for Jungkook and now that he thought about it, he had never really asked if he can be a part of their Christmas tradition.

“It’s fine, it was nice, really. Your mum is a caring person.” He looked at Tae, at the way he worried about him, how he took care of him. There was no way that Tae would just break his heart like that and leave without telling him a word. But still... his mind couldn't let go. He had to ask or else he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all tonight, too scared that when he woke up next time Taehyung would be gone, taking his heart with him. “You... you wouldn’t leave me now, right? I gave you everything I had. You meant it when you said you loved me. You’re going to be with me. Aren’t you?” He smiled at him, hopeful and trusting, waiting for Tae to soothe his heart, maybe give him a little kiss, to make it okay again so that they could go back home, visit the fairies... He wanted to fall asleep in Tae’s arms tonight, with the knowledge that he was safe and that his loneliness was nothing but a bad dream.

Taehyung’s heart was beating fast out of a sudden and he reached out to cup Jungkook’s cheeks, caressing his thumb over his skin. “Of course, I meant it when I said I love you and I want to be with you,” Taehyung reassured him, before his voice dropped a little, “I meant to tell you before, but then this incident with the fairies happened...I have to go home soon. I have to work, Jungkook. I can’t...leave everything just like that from one day to another, even if I wanted to...but that doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you behind. We can work this out, I promise.” He leaned in to kiss Jungkook softly, “I want to give you the world, really and...I would love to take you with me, but I know you have your bakery and the fairies and I’m not sure if you want to leave them behind this quick or if you even want to live somewhere else...or with me. I just...can’t stay here, there’s too many painful memories. This village...you’ve been the best thing that ever happened to me here. Please believe me that I won’t leave you like that and will come back for you, no matter how we decide to keep this going. We...will find a way, okay?”

Taehyung was shivering, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold. He was scared that Jungkook didn’t love him enough to wait, or to come with him, that he would break up with him right here, right now, just because he couldn’t promise to stay just like this. This village was depressing him, even with Jungkook and his mother being here. Tae knew that sooner or later he would go crazy. He could feel the tears stinging in his eyes from the fear of losing Jungkook.

Jungkook stared at him eyes wide and filled with disbelieve. “So, it's true. You are going to the city. You will be gone tomorrow.” He blinked as if waking from a shock. His voice was surprisingly calm. Inside he was screaming. “When will you be back?”

Taehyung bit his lip and nodded, “I…I have to be at work the day after tomorrow.” His hands wandered down Jungkook’s arms, trying to reach for his hands and intertwine their fingers. Taehyung was shaking from his own nervousness. “I…don’t know…,” Taehyung said in all honestly, “I probably can manage to come by after new year’s…I think I have a free weekend at the end of January.” His eyes were searching for Jungkook’s, very well aware of the fact that he was hurting the elf with every word right now. “I would take you with me, right away but I am living in a shared apartment right now,” He shrugged his shoulders, “The possibility of the others seeing your ears and…if you would take Yoongi with you… I am already looking for a new place and then…you could…I mean…” Tae’s voice broke a little.

Jungkook cast down his eyes. He tried to keep breathing, in and out, in and out, just like he should. But it felt as if he was inhaling ice crystals with each breath, sharp and pointy little things that cut through his throat, his lungs, his heart. Tae would leave him. Just like Yoongi had said. He had known. The fairy had known what would happen because humans never kept their promises. Their “forever” could last a day with all their promises broken in a heartbeat. He should have listened. He should have… Jungkook looked up, in Taehyung’s beautiful face and the pain flared up so suddenly that he feared something had ripped him apart. It wouldn’t have changed anything. Even if he knew before that he would end alone again then he would still have been with Tae. He just...loved him so much. He was deeply, irrevocably in love with him. Even if Tae wouldn’t come back for him and if he died from it, there still was no way that he could have avoided falling for the other. He had been lost the moment Tae had smiled at him.

“Jungkook? Baby, please…I won’t leave you… I love you and I want to be with you,” Tae said, his voice shaking, before he hooked a finger under Jungkook’s chin to make him look up, “But what do you expect me to do? I can’t quit my job like that…and this town. I can’t…it…” He could feel the first tear falling onto his cheek and Tae angrily wiped it away, “I want to give you everything, want to be with you, believe me. Tell me what I should do? What do you want?”

He wanted to ask Tae to stay, to not leave him alone, especially not now, not so soon… But he couldn’t. He wasn’t supposed to be selfish now. This was about what Tae wanted. keeping him here would make him unhappy. Tae had told him enough how much he disliked the narrow space, to see the same face each and every day, to be constricted by your own history because people who had watched you grown up had such a detailed impression of who you were that there was no room for adaptions or change no matter of what they thought of him was true or not. He couldn’t do that, holding Tae back while knowing it would make the older unhappy.

Taehyung was holding onto Jungkook by now, scared that he would get out of his grip and never come back. “Promise me that we will work this out?” Tae tried to say with a smile, his voice sounded still broken, “I don’t want to lose you…but I don’t want to force you to leave your home just like this. I know you’ve been on the run a lot and I want you to be able to choose and…and If it means that I have to come here…every free weekend then so be it…because I love you.” He pushed a string of hair behind Jungkook’s ear, kissing the younger on his cheek, “I just want you to feel safe.”

Jungkook nodded quietly, not trusting his voice right now. He was so close to crying, but he tried his best not to, feeling strangely proud when he could finally talk again. He sounded soft and vulnerable but apart from that no one would know how much he was hurting. “It’s...it’s ok. Really. I don't want to be the one holding you back. You’re going to be... happier in the city. I know that. I understand.” He smiled, and it sliced through his heart to even think of what he had just said, Tae, in the city - without him. But Tae deserved happiness. It wasn't the humans fault that he had thought that “I love you” would mean “I will never leave you alone.”

Taehyung cupped Jungkook’s cheeks and pulled him in to kiss the younger deep and passionately, letting him feel the love he was feeling for the elf. “I’m going to come and get you…I won’t leave you behind,” Taehyung murmured, before he pulled back with a small, faint smile on his lips. “Do…do you still want to visit the fairies? I don’t want to leave you tonight…let me stay with you, please,” Tae wasn’t so sure if Jungkook not wanted to be alone right now, when all he wanted is to lay close to the other and kiss him all night, to make sure the younger would know how much he loved him.

Jungkook let the other pull him in for a kiss like a doll. He felt empty, hollow, too light for this. “No, we don't have to do that. We could just... go home.” He wanted to get home right away and close the door behind him as soon as possible. He wanted to shut the world out, the truth, the pain. But he also knew that Yoongi would sense immediately that something was wrong with him. That he was hurting. And that the reason was Taehyung. Jungkook just didn't wanted to tell Yoongi that he was right. Not because of pride but because it made it more... real. Right now, it could still be a possibility that this was just a bad dream, a nightmare. Yoongi’s reaction would make it more real.

Taehyung knew that he had ruined it. Another year. Another Christmas that he had ruined. He was about to throw his fist at some tree in anger, shaking from holding it back. He had tried to make it as perfect as possible for Jungkook, but only made it worse in the end. 

Tae was biting his lip repeatedly, just following Jungkook back to the bakery deep in his thoughts. Only when Jungkook unlocked the door and they stood in the storage room that the elf called his home, he spoke, not caring about getting out of his jacket or anything else. “I…I’m sorry I ruined your Christmas,” His voice was barely a whisper, “If…if you want me to go…”

“No!” Jungkook's hand found his arm immediately, holding onto him for dear life. “Please... please don’t leave me… now. Just... stay a little longer. Just a little. I promise I’ll let you go in the morning. Just don't leave me alone now when I don't even know when I will see you again.” He gently pulled Tae inside, closing the door behind them. Selfishly he wanted to spend as much time with his love as he could before Tae would leave him behind. He would try not to sleep tonight, ask Tae to hug him so that when the other would fall asleep he could stay awake and pretend that tomorrow wouldn’t come and that he could forever stay in Tae’s arms.

“O-okay,” Taehyung said, still feeling insecure about everything right now, but it didn’t keep him from making sure Jungkook would feel alright. Tae followed Jungkook towards the mattress, laying down right next to the elf. He let the younger cuddle into him, wrapping his arms closely around him to keep him tight against his body. “I wish I wouldn’t have to go,” Tae mumbled, closing his eyes to keep the tears from spilling and kissing the top of Jungkook’s head, “I’ll come back, I promise you. You own my heart,” He whispered these words into his skin, every kiss of his against Jungkook’s lips a promise to never let go of him. That he would come back and take the other home. Somewhere safe. Somewhere they would both could be happy if that is what Jungkook wanted. Somewhere where even Yoongi could live happily. That’s what he told him. Every promise sealed with a kiss and then Tae’s tears spilled over, but before Jungkook could see them, he just tightly pressed the younger against him.

This one sentence almost broke Jungkook’s composure to pieces. ‘You own my heart’... If only Tae knew that it was the other way around - and literally so. Jungkook wondered if he would still be able to feel it, to feel his pulse, his heartbeat - or if it would stop the minute Taehyung went out the door. He didn’t know what would be more cruel. And still, he didn’t regret it, falling for Tae. It had been beautiful while it had lasted, and for a blissful little while had he thought that he had found a home in someone’s else heart. That he would get back the same amount of love that he had  felt swelling inside of his chest. He just shouldn’t have hoped to keep it, he should have accepted that they were different, him and the human, instead of expecting Tae to love him back as unconditionally as he did.

Taehyung didn’t notice when he was falling asleep, his hold around Jungkook loosened a little, when he was dozing off – but still he never let go of the younger once.

The next morning came way too fast and Taehyung barely spoke a word. Everything just felt like it was falling apart and Jungkook was slipping out of his fingers. He was holding onto Jungkook’s hand tight the whole day, until he leaned against the door of his car, Jungkook in front of him, while his mother had already waved him goodbye, giving them some space.

“Please, think about it,” Taehyung spoke softly, “I want to be with you and if you…want to come, as soon as I figured it all out.” Tae had thought that maybe, if he offered Jungkook a life with him in the city, that maybe he could mend the younger one’s heart a little, make him seriously think about the option, but the human knew he had already broken his heart. And Tae wasn’t sure if Jungkook loved him enough to leave this all behind. Leaning his forehead against Jungkook’s, he sighed deeply, “I love you and I won’t ever stop loving you, only remember that…and that I will come and get you. And…and…if you get lonely, then just call me!” He pointed at the mobile phone Tae had given Jungkook a few minutes ago. It was an older one from his mother, since he knew the elf had never owned one. “It only has my number, so you can’t do anything wrong,” Tae said and looked at him with sad eyes.

Jungkook went through the whole day like an out-of-body experience. He didn’t know if it was the loss of sleep (he hadn’t slept all night) or the pain but he just felt like he was watching someone else being left behind. Not him. Maybe a movie or some soapy television series where the lovers were parting just to reunite happily ever after later. He was shivering when he watched the car drive by. Tae looked like he was sorry for him. He had been nice and caring and as kind as one could be in those last minutes of their time. He had kissed him and held him for as long as he could before getting into his car. When Tae had turned away from him everything in him had screamed to hold him back to cling to his body and beg him not to leave him behind, to not send him back to lonesomeness and an aching heart. But he didn‘t move a muscle, kept himself all under control. Just the tears came harder when the car door closed, and his chest felt like Tae had ripped something from it and had taken it with him.

Taehyung was gripping the steering wheel so tight, that his knuckles turned white, when he drove off from the scene. He didn’t feel the first tears that fell onto his cheeks, ignoring them as much as he could. But no matter how hard he tried, Tae couldn’t ignore the aching in his chest, the painful beat of his heart. Everything hurt and all he wanted was to turn around again – but unfortunately real life wasn’t so easy. He wiped over his cheek, concentrating back on the road. He would find a way to stay with Jungkook. Tae loved him. More than anything he ever loved in this world. He just needed some time to figure this all out and Jungkook couldn’t leave the fairies behind like this, right? He was arguing with himself, shaking his head and blinking his eyes to keep his focus on the highway.

Jungkook managed to say goodbye to Taehyung’s mum before he went home, skipping the fairies forest or any other place that he had frequented with Tae. He needed to get his mind off things quickly - and he had work to do anyway. So, going back to normal would be the best thing that he could do. He let himself into the bakery and got all the ingredients for cookies. He didn’t care that after Christmas there was no need for Christmas magic any longer. So close to new year the people would eat the Christmas sweets that they had bought or got gifted and then start to make new year's resolutions of losing weight or eating less sugar or working more and in each of those plans cookies weren’t included. But Jungkook didn’t care he needed something to do, something that would help him make this horrible feeling go away.

It was already late that day, when a buzzing sound of wings fluttering was audible in the bakery. Yoongi was looking everywhere, his lips pursed into a pout when he was flying right where Jungkook was still immersed in baking his (probably) hundredth baking tray of muffins.

“Hey, Jungkookie!” The fairy landed right on Jungkook’s pastry roller, so the younger couldn’t move further, “Merry Christmas to you, too! Where have you been?” He crossed his little arms in front of his chest, tapping one foot on the ground impatiently.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi. I was with Tae. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. You can have as much of my baking sugar as you want and we... we can... tell the fairies I’m going to play lots with them tomorrow, right after work.” He let go of the tool to make sure his tears wouldn’t get into the dough. He had been busy trying not to get his tears into his baking quite a lot those last few hours. They just didn’t seem to stop. It made work a little harder, actually.

Yoongi noticed there was something wrong right away. He knew Jungkook too well. He was his baby. He was only five years old after all (at least in Yoongi’s mind). The fairy flew up and around the younger, who tried desperately to hide himself from his friend. “What happened? Jungkook?” Yoongi asked, his voice sounding soft, while he was starting to worry, “Did…something happen? Did someone hurt you? I’ll kick their butt!” He kicked the air to demonstrate how he would do it, hoping it would make the younger laugh. But it didn’t. So only one -poof- later he was human sized, reaching out for Jungkook’s arm, to look at him with concern.

When he turned the younger around his face was full of tears and there was a look in the elf’s eyes that was so full of desperation and pain that he knew right away who was the cause of this. Only one person besides him was close enough to Jungkook to hurt him that deeply. “It’s Tae, right?” Jungkook nodded not trusting his voice as the constant choking he felt must have taken its toll on it and he didn’t want to croak out some weak excuse. “Did he leave you?” Jungkook couldn’t breathe so much did it hurt to hear it out loud. He didn’t answer but his face seemed answer enough because Yoongi sighed deeply. Of course, it was the human. He knew it, right from the start. There was no way that they could handle someone as precious as Jungkook. Tae had been good though with keeping up the facade. He almost had fooled him too. With the way he had helped the fairies and made Jungkook so utterly happy Yoongi had started to trust him despite better knowledge. And where did it lead? To a little elf, crying silently in his kitchen in the middle of the night.

Instead of scolding him he started to talk, softly, gently, like talking to a child. “It won’t be like this forever Kookie. He doesn’t deserve you if he...”

“It’s alright,” The elf interrupted him hoarsely, not able to take the soft spoken words. They hit harder than if Yoongi would have yelled at him because it showed what he already knew, that he was weak for trusting, naive for believing that despite their obvious differences they could have been…something. More than just temporary lovers who were sharing some fleeting intimacy.

“You don’t have to cheer me up. I’m fine, really, you were right and I... I was stupid for ... for believing...” He swallowed down his next words and added, calmer, “You were right. That’s it. There’s nothing more to say.”

Yoongi didn’t seem convinced and also didn’t top talking even though it was what Jungkook had been hoping for. He was trying so hard to hold himself together, he didn’t know how long he would be able to keep that up if Yoongi kept him reminding that he was all alone now.

“I wish it wasn’t...,” He made a pause, the silence hanging heavy between them. “Don’t be too harsh on yourself, Kook. We all need to make our own mistakes to really find our way. And it’s on your nature to trust and to love easily. You’re a kind, compassionate being. I know that you think you won’t ever love someone else again, but you can and you will and then...”

“No, I can’t.” Jungkook’s smile was utterly sad, the suppressed sobs tightening his chest further and threatening to spill over his lips. Yoongi furrowed his brows. “Of course, you can, you just need a little while and then...”

“No, I can’t.” The sobs finally broke their way out of him and Yoongi froze.

“But…Oh!” There was horror in his eyes when it finally dawned on him. “Oh no, Kook... Kookie why would you do that? Why would you let him?” The pity on Yoongi’s face was what finally broke him down. Jungkook fell on his knees, curling up and tightening his hands (still dirty with dough) in his own clothes. “I’m sorry, I... I don’t know why, I just loved him so much and ... Yoongi, it hurts. Why does it hurt so bad?” It said a lot about how much of a mess he was when Yoongi just wordlessly pulled him close,

Yoongi who normally made jokes about skin ship and refused to sleep in the same bed as Jungkook whenever he stayed over at night. He held onto him with shaking fingers. The silent tears had turned into ugly sobs and it pained the fairy to imagine how Jungkook must be feeling. He was so sensitive. Why on earth did he have to fall in love with a human? Yoongi gently rocked him, back and forth, like a child, holding him, shushing him with soft words and meaningless phrases, because there was nothing else he could do. He couldn’t even tell him that it would get better someday. Because it wouldn’t. Jungkook had given his heart fully to Taehyung. He would be longing for him the rest of his long, miserable life.

A/N: Argrhgfhfgh my poor baby Kookie ;; What do you think? Will Tae come around again? Will Yoongi kick his ass? Or maybe Jungkook starts looking for him? Who knows...well, we do! Only one more chapter to go! Don’t forget to leave a comment or send us a message! Thank you for reading!

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[ericadownunderpart2]

Singapore, living the glossy life!

In the immortal words of Boyz II Men, “we have come to the end of the road”.  Final post.  Sorry it’s a bit late.  No, I did not die in Singapore.  I made it home safely and then got too lazy to post about it.  Apologies.  Anyway, Singapore is amazing, Alicia is the best tour guide/host ever and I have so much to tell you...

Day 1: Bright lights and the red lights

After a 6 hour flight from Cairns to Singapore, I was thrilled to be met at the airport by my dear friend Alicia, who I grew up with in Milwaukee (Brew City baby!) and has been one of my best friends ever since.  She has been living in Singapore for the past year and a half for work and was the hostess with the mostest on the Singapore leg of my journey.  On a side note, the Singapore airport is a dream.  Which I can not say for any other airport...in existence anywhere.  A dream.

Seriously!?!  This is what the airport looks like!?!  Amazing.

After a much needed real sleep, in a real apartment, with a real shower, Alicia planned a fabulous day out on the town for us.  One of the things that I love about Singapore is the truly international feel to it.  It is awesome to be in a place where people of color are the majority.  And I mean, all kinds of color.  Very “We are the world” in a non- Coca-cola commercial way!  We were able to explore Little India, Chinatown and Arab Street on our weekend adventure.  It was like taking a world tour without needing to go through customs.  Awesome.

In general, Singapore has to be one of the cleanest, safest and most impressive cities I’ve ever seen, with massive skyscrapers, high rise apartments and beautiful tropical parks.  It has some of the most iconic buildings in Asia and waterfronts to match.  As Alicia calls it, it is truly “Asia 101,″ with the ease of navigation and picturesque city living that makes weak-sauce American travelers feel right at home.  But with a distinctly cultural feel, that keeps it interesting.  This may come at the cost of what could be seen as a slightly oppressively lawful and regulatory state with clear social castes and displays of extreme wealth, but from an outsiders perspectives, it seems pretty congenial.

Chinatown

Little India, preparing for Dewali celebrations

Alicia and I started our Singaporian adventure with a stroll through a few of the ethnic neighborhoods of the city and high tea at the Flower Garden by the Bay.  An amazing garden dome overlooking the famous Bay, Botanical Gardens and the iconic Marina Bay Sands (boat) hotel.

Why don’t we have high tea in America?  It is the best thing ever.  Fancy tea, an excuse to get dressed up, drink tea, champagne and coffee while eating adorable and delicious tiny snacks.  So many little sammies and desserts.  This is what it must be like to be rich and/or famous.  I am going to try harder to be both in the future.

Flower Dome by the Bay

I am almost certain it is against some sort of cultural or actual law to take picture of Buddhist Monks, but they were so photo-ready, stopping to smell the flowers.  I apologize to Buddhists everywhere.

Following our high tea, we strolled through the iconic Marina Bay Sands area , with the classic Singaporean skyline, the park with the incredible “supertree” sculptures and the impressive skyscrapers of the “downtown” district.

On Saturday night, Alicia arranged an awesome tour of the infamous legalized Red Light Districts in Singapore.  The Geylang district.  This is perplexing to me, because Singapore has A LOT of rules.  Rules for all kinds of things that probably don’t even need rules.  There are cameras everywhere and security guards and posted signs outlining the numerous things you are not able to do.  But prostitution, totally legal...well, within a complex set of rules that is.

But not surprisingly, like most of Singapore, even the Red Light district was, totally glossy.  In fact, it was one of the nicest, cleanest “skectchy” neighborhoods I have seen in a city the size of Singapore.  I felt entirely safe and in fact, a little disappointed by the severe lack of seediness in the area.  I would gladly sit down and have a cup of tea on any of the Red Light district’s corners.

Our tour guide, a lovely lady who calls the Gelong her home and is an advocate for the neighborhood, showed us around and introduced us to the complicated, complex and fascinated issues of the area and policies.  

Alicia, me, Angela, Kathe and our amazing Gelong advocate and tour guide (center). 

In classic Singapore style, they figured out that the best way to control illegal activity is to legalize and regulate the practice.  There are strict regulations for brothels and an intense level of camera and police surveillance to limit the non-legal (i.e. streetwalking) activities.  What does that do?  Create a totally chill and clean and glossy red light district.  Not to say, that the area doesn’t have it’s fair share of drugs and sexual exploitation that are problematic, but it does at the very least, give off an air of controlled chaos.  And with the advent of the internet and increased policing, whatever debauchery that was once the scene, has now moved indoors, giving way to a charming and safe feeling street scene.  You could probably eat off the streets here and as it turns out, some of the best restaurants in town can be found here.  Fascinating.

Speaking of eating off the street. Our fun tour group stopped after the tour for a delicious authentic Chinese dinner...and for a Singaporean delicacy, Durian fruit.  Durian fruit is known for its horrendous smell and odd savory and sweet flavor that to me resembles a garlic-y citrus fruit that smells like rotting flesh and is the consistency of lumpy pudding.  The ladies were sure I needed to try it.  So I put on  a pair of protective gloves, held my nose and dived in.  It tastes better than it smells, but that isn’t saying all that much.  It’s not terrible, but I don’t think I would spend the $100+ price tag per Durian  to eat it for funsies again.  But it was ...an experience.  Across Asia, although considered a prized delicacy for many, it has actually been banned from carrying on public transportation in Singapore, Thailand and Hong King due to the offensive smell.  Of our group of die hard Singaporeans and longtime ex-pats, everyone was excited to have a bite, but no one wanted to have it in their refrigerator.  Enough said.

Durian...it smells like it looks...disgusting.

We concluded our evening with a stroll  through Alicia’s neighborhood all-night food market, called the Hawkers Center, which we hit up another day, when not full on rancid forbidden fruit.

Day 2: Rain...bringer of mud and magic

The next day brought the monsoons, or as they refer to them in Singapore, light rain.  :)  We headed inside to check out the National Museum of Singapore, which houses amazing art by Singaporean and other neighboring Asian country artists.  Absolutely amazing.  It is housed in some of the former judicial and state buildings on the island.  It was extremely well done and an interesting glimpse into the marriage of formal, western art forms with the history and traditionas of Singapore melded in.  Absolutely stunning.

With a break in the weather we took a break on the rooftop bar to have a “Singapore Sling” overlooking the amazing Marina Bay Sands hotel and the Durian inspired performing arts center.  Everything in Singapore continues to be absolutely clean, picturesque and stunning to behold.  Even if you are not into the glossy, modern skyscraper skyline, you can’t help but be overtaken by the awe-inspiring views and intentionality of the perfect skyline.  (think real life Sim City!...yep, hitting you with that 90s nerd reference)

We then decided to hit up the beautiful (and free!) UNESCO world heritage site of the Singapore Botanic Gardens.  It is a huge botanic park filled with amazing trees and flowers, animals, walking paths  and lakes.  

Alicia and I, in search of otters and turtles ventured to check out the Eco-lake on the grounds.  Due to some recent drought, the water levels were low, which meant that Alicia and I were going to take advantage of this to get up close and personal with the local turtles hanging out in the mud flats. We bounded over the mud on a crash course to say hey to the turtles, when to our dismay realized that the mud was in fact, quicksand, and we immediately sinking into it, fearing our imminent doom.  Ok, quicksand might be a bit of an exaggeration, but I did see my life flash before my eyes and by the time we pulled ourselves out of the mud, one of Alicia’s flipflops had become an unwanted victim to the mud.

This became the next phase of our adventure.  You will not be surprised that we raised a few eyebrows, tramping through the beautiful park, completely covered in mud and with Alicia barefoot.  As I mentioned, Singapore has a lot of rules and I am sure we were in violation of at least 5-10 of them.  We managed to find a miracle bathroom that had some sort of foot washing/hose situation that we could clean up in.  Again, not exactly the intended use, I’m sure and a bit eyebrow raising (again) for the locals, but a god-send.  We did manage to locate a giftshop with a quite extensive flipflop selection (leading me to believe we were not the first victims of the “quicksand lake of flipflop death.”)  We located new footwear for Alicia and headed on our dirty and merry way.

We ended our day the way we had started the previous one, checking out the neighborhoods that give Singapore such an enticing appeal.  We headed to Haji Lane, which is part of the Arab district of the city for some delicious Lebanese food.  Haji Lane really feels like a magical place, with colorful shops  and restaurants lining the back alleys and live music and delicious smells and lively sounds.  This was one of the highlights of the trip.  A great place for two old friends to catch up.

Haji Lane (Arab Street neighborhood) 

All in all, a magical trip to Singapore to end a magical trip.  After almost 3 weeks on the road, I was both incredibly sad to leave and happy to sleep in my own bed.  After getting stranded for a few hours in Seoul on the long trip taking me from Singapore to Seoul, Korea, to Las Vegas to home, I was so happy after 32 hours in transit to be back on Minneostan soil.  Thanks to all of you for coming along with me on my journey and to all of you that showed me kindness and hospitality along the way. 

(PS  Full disclosure, basically of the photos that look half way decent from this post were Alicia’s.  Thanks for investing in a phone/camera from this decade!)

[fireinmoonshot]

'the food is not burnt, its slightly toasted' prompt for an ethan fic, maybe? the man is a super spy who saves the world on a regular basis, jumps from airplanes and knows 10 languages; but cannot cook for shit. he still denies it tho, brown colored mac n cheese that stinks is apparently edible???? no, ethan, its not. we're gonna get food poisoning if we eat that.

“I don’t– I don’t understand how you could mess up that badly on cooking mac and cheese, Ethan,” you frown down at the food in the pot. It smells horrendous, and it looks even worse. You look up at Ethan and raise your eyebrows. “Did you burn it? How does one even burn mac and cheese?”

Ethan looks slightly offended and grabs the handle of the pot, taking it away from you and sitting it down on the cutting board, as if he’s about to actually serve it up for dinner. “It’s not burnt, it’s slightly toasted. And it’s edible, okay? I used a recipe.”

You cross to sit down on one of the chairs at the counter. “From where? Inediblefood.com?”

He throws you a glare and scoops a spoonful of the mac and cheese into one of the bowls. You wrinkle your nose, a little confused at how you’d actually thought that letting Ethan cook while you finished up your work for the day was a good idea. He’s saved the world a million times, he’s risked his life to take down bad guys. But he just can’t cook for shit.

“Ethan, I love you, I do,” you tell him. “But I’m not eating that. I’ll literally be sick. Hell, you’ll be sick if you eat that. I don’t wanna have to take you to the hospital at 4:00am when you wake up with food poisoning or something.”

Sighing, Ethan stabs a fork into one of the bowls, picking up some of the sludgy brown mac and cheese. He raises his eyebrows at you. “It’s edible, okay? It just looks a little funny, but I’m sure it’ll taste better than it looks. Don’t half of all foods have that same thing? They taste better than they look? Just trust me on this.”

You hold your breath as Ethan puts the forkful of mac and cheese into his mouth, nose screwed up in distaste and eyebrows furrowed as you watch his face change in seconds from being smug to being utterly disgusted. He coughs, and then turns around and spits it out in the sink.

“Oh my God, that’s horrible,” he mutters, running the tap to clean out his mouth.

It’s difficult to try and stop yourself from laughing, and you put your hand over your mouth to try and stop yourself as Ethan washes out his mouth with water and eventually turns back to face you. He sees the amusement on your face instantly.

“Go on. Laugh. I know you want to,” Ethan sighs, lips quirking up just a little.

You can’t help yourself as you let out a laugh, head falling into your hands. A part of you wishes you’d gotten the whole thing on video so you could send it to Benji and Luther in the morning, knowing they’d get a good laugh out of it. Ethan chuckles softly as you get up and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around him.

“Maybe I should be the cook from now on, huh?” You suggest, grinning. “You stick to what you’re good at, like saving the world, and I’ll stick to cooking the food from now on. Food that won’t make us sick and actually smells and looks edible.”

Ethan shakes his head, smiling. “Maybe that’s a good idea…”

#ethan hunt x reader #ethan hunt #ethan hunt imagine #ethan hunt reader insert #ethan hunt x you #mission: impossible fallout #mission impossible x reader #mission impossible #mission: impossible #mission impossible imagine

[kmindset]

The Monsters In All of Us: Two (M)

Member: Vampire! Jungkook AU

Summary: Shh! Just read it

Word Count: 2119

Warnings: Mature content, Slightly NSFW, slightly graphic

A/N: Don’t forget, I post this story on AO3 now as well I recommend reading it ter because this got posted a few days ago and I just forgot to post the whole thing here. Username: kmindset Anyway, enjoy!

“The hunt has to be worth it tonight, Kook. I’m not stalking around in five-inch heels for another high cholesterol half-wit.” Moisturizing your face was the easiest part of the night so you rubbed it in like a light massage.

“It will. It’s opening night at that vegan bar and grill.” He bent down to rest his chin on your head. “Most of them are pretty pretentious but worth it.”

You chuckled. Tonight you and Jungkook were doing one of your favorite things Poly Baiting. Scouring night spots for vulnerable humans looking for a fun time with the both of you was horrible, very much so, but you are vampires. You have to eat too and sometimes animal blood from the butcher shop isn’t satisfying enough.

“Why are you even bothering with that? You look as youthful as the day I spotted you through your Sseugae chima.”

“Because it smells goods and what kind of youthful looking woman am I without skin care products?”

“Hm, true.” He leans down to wrap both arms around your shoulders from behind. “Even if you looked as old as you are you would be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

You chuckled. “One, “thing”? How specist of you. Two, if I looked as old as I am I would be bones, skin, and hopefully some hair.” You turned your head to look in his eyes. His carmine pupils drawing out a fresh wave of lust. Your hand stroked his cheek sweetly. “Thank you, sweetie.”

By the time you get there the place is packed.

There are people in trendy outfits on the dance floor at one end and other people enjoying their meals at the opposite end.

“The irony is so strong I can taste it.” You snicker.

He holds your hand, walking first. “I don’t taste anything, so let’s hurry this up.”

The music sets a fun vibe in the building making even you want to dance but Jungkook is focused on one thing. Razor sharp senses refocus. Many of those around you seem to be a good enough crowd. Some older yet trendy with a contrasting group of confused looking men sat next to a rather happy looking man. ‘Hmm, poor dears got dragged here.” you think. For a moment you contemplate setting your fangs on them but by their disgust, at the appetizer, their friend is tearing into you suspect they’re suffering enough.

“Hello!” A cheerful young man with light hair and a button with the logo greets you and shows you to an open area with a few couches. There are people lounging around and deep in their food or their own conversations.

“Hi!” A woman with two ponytails immediately greets you.

“Hi!”

“How long have you been vegan?”

Years of lying for food and general survival having you speaking a lie in no time flat. “Ah, I’m actually vegetarian looking to go vegan and my fiancee’ here is-”

“Disgruntled and hungry for anything.” He interrupts with a mocking smile. However, the woman doesn't even pick up on his ridicule as she continues smiling. A naive one and a vegan. Jackpot!

“From the reviews of the original building in Incheon, it’ll turn you vegan for sure!” She rambles on about her 6 years as a vegan and the struggle of being vegan in Korea. You’re barely paying attention when you feel Jungkook tense beside you. He seems off-put by something but you don’t smell anything. You choose to ignore him and continue chatting up the girl whose name you’ve already forgotten. Jungkook’s clairvoyance usually doesn't tense him up unless there is something unusual or bad going on and by the grip he has on your shoulder, it can’t be good. Luckily, the chatty woman excuses herself to the restroom.

Before you could even turn to him he whispers. “Something’s not right here.”

“Is it little Miss “Vegan is Better”? Because she won’t be a problem for much longer.”

He shakes his head with a deep frown. “It’s something else. I feel another in pain.”

Jungkook’s senses are so strong he can sense the pain of family and nearby vampires. A handy power for avoiding hunters and aiding your kind.

“Hunters possibly?”

He nods slowly. “We should leave.” He takes your hand to guide you out. Near the exit, the chatty woman blocks your path.

“Hey, you guys! This is my boyfriend, Rod.” She finally takes notice of your path. “Leaving already?”

“Yes. Really sorry, bit of an emergency.” You swipe her phone from her hand, quickly typing out your number in her notes with ‘Y/N: aspiring vegan’ next to it.

“We should meet up sometime and you can help me go vegan.”

Jungkook discreetly tugs on the back of your jacket in quiet urgenance. You guess the sense has gotten stronger.

She nods with an excited smile and waves you goodbye.

Once you are out the door Jungkook says. “It was him.”

You turn back in confusion of who ‘him’ is and meet the eyes of Vegan girl’s boyfriend.

He was staring back at you with a pointed glare.

Him.

“How could he be a hunter? I couldn’t smell him!”

“I don’t know! I’m freaked out as well!” Your husband is sat on the couch with head in his hands. It had been decades since you had seen him this worried. You were stood over him, stroking his hair gently. “It wasn’t a strong smell but I felt something else before the whiff. It was as if he was somehow blocking his scent. But barely.”

Jungkook’s state of distress was something you rarely saw. The scariest of times being when you were pregnant with Harley and hunters were hot on your trail from your increased bloodlust.

For a while, you thought about assimilating just to make it easier on Jungkook. Two of your sisters still lived in London from the days of King Henry VIII. They choose to stay for the better acceptance of your kind. In fact, your mother moved there with your father after her second husband was staked in Vegas and remarried your father.

“Should we report this back to Feratuan?” you ask.

He thinks for a moment. “Not yet. No need to alarm anyone for no reason.”

��No reason!? A hunter concealed his scent Jungkook! And by the way, he was looking at me you would have thought I was the one with the smell! And I guarantee you all that fucker should have been smelling is Light Blue by Dolce and fucking Gabbana!”

“Lily is here.” He announces calmy before you heard a light knock. A sign passes your lips as you cross your arms in annoyance.

“Come in.”

“Hey.” She comes in with a solemn look. Obviously, her paternally inherited clairvoyance picked up on something.“What’s going on?”

You looked to Jungkook to answer.

Her worried father sighs heavily. “We don’t know. We think a hunter was concealing his scent and that somehow he knew what we are.”

Your daughter’s eyes widened in fear. “Oh my god! Seohyun said that happened to her the other day!”

“Who?” Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed identically to yours, both confused and alarmed.

“My friend! She’s a first gen. Only on her 2nd lifetime. She was attacked a few weeks ago!” Your mouth hung open. “It happened outside the library in Hongdae. She said she was waiting for her boyfriend to pick her up but she was attacked from behind. When her father asked why she didn’t hide or prepare herself she told him she didn’t smell them coming. It wasn’t until they were way too close that she could faintly smell them.”

“Oh my goodness! How did she escape if it was multiple?” Jungkook questioned.

“Luckily her boyfriend showed up. He’s a first gen too but on his 10th lifetime.”

“10? After 9 is when I lost count,” you mumble, momentarily distracted from the matter at hand.

Jungkook nods at his daughter’s words in understanding. Generally, vampires on a higher lifetime have had enough experience to ward of multiple hunters but an attack could still lead to death. “While you’re here, alone, we need to speak to you.”

She nods slowly and lowers to the adjacent couch.

“Your mother and I noticed Daniel’s marks. Every time we see him he seems to have a new injury. He seems fine with it yet when we ask how it happened the boy can’t seem to remember.” He explains in his best and seldom sed ‘authoritative father’ voice.”I’m not going to bullshit, Se Yeon, you know good and well what I’m leading to.”

The barely matured vampire purses her lips. She straightens up in hopes of seeming confident but you know better. More than one hundred and fifty years of motherhood and a maternal and vampiric need to protect your children has made you more than knowledgeable about all of your children. Currently, your daughter’s body language was telling you that she was trying to seem unafraid of her father’s intense gaze but inside was rather frightened and a little ashamed of the evident disappointment that he was not making an effort to hide.

“Se Yeon,” you spoke carefully, not too gentle yet still stern. “We aren’t angry. We just want to know if what we’re suspecting is true.”

If any of your hearts naturally beat there would have been many between when your heart actually did and when she spoke. “It didn’t start out so carelessly. I hadn’t fed in a few days, I am not sure if it was sheer laziness or a distaste for the crowd the weather brought, but I was stagnant.Daniel stopped by and noticed my color. He assumed I was sick and insisted on “caring for me”. I tried to tell him to leave after he brought me some horrendously made chicken soup and useless medicine. Finally, he resolved to cuddle with me. “Cuddles are the most effective meds my darling.” She mocked his words but you saw the smile she held for a brief moment. “In my carelessness and intense need for him to shut the hell up, I allowed him to lay his head on my chest.”

Jungkook was still listening intently and rather impatiently, for the point but you already had your hand over your face. “He didn’t hear a heartbeat.” you finished for her.

She nodded. “It took a moment but right when I thought he was falling asleep he sat up! It caught me off guard, my fangs nearly released. He started freaking out about how this was really bad and I needed to go to the hospital quick! There was no way to calm him and I could only think of one thing to do. So, I played along and acted as if I was afraid. I asked him to hold me. That brought him down enough to stop yelling. He pulled me in to hug me and I buried my face in his neck and…” she gestured outwardly and the two of you nodded for her to continue. “I took just enough to put him out, licked it to heal, and when he woke up he was back on my chest and I had a heartbeat.”

“Courtesy of him.” Jungkook quipped. You nudged him to be quiet.

“It was enough for him though. I asked if everything was alright and she told me about his crazy dream that I didn’t have a heartbeat. I told him everything was fine and let him hear my heartbeat. I was so scared though I told him I wanted to be alone. It was too close a call.”

Jungkook stood and rubbed his neck before ruffling his hair, a frustrated habit. “That doesn’t explain the multiple other marks, Se Yeon.”

Her eyes drifted to the floor. You moved to sit by her and held her hand in gentle encouragement. “It was addicting. S-Something about it was delectable and...familiar? I honestly don’t even know why the urge to drink from him is so strong but it’s as if-” she paused, her head shook as if she wasn’t even comprehending her actions or the taste. “It’s as if I don’t want anything else.”

Her eyes stayed on the floor as if searching for some type of answer but your worried ones drifted up to your husband’s. He was focused on her. His eyes held so many things and you knew he would never admit any of those things to his children, especially Lily, but this went far beyond the problems of your subspecies. This was a father’s worry.

He was willing to do anything and everything for them and for you. But he wasn’t sure what yet.

Additional author’s note: Sorry I forgot to add that in addition to new chapters of the story I’ve also posted the dictionary for this story to help you all understand certain words I use for this fic as well as a side story that is just Jungkook and Y/N with lots of fluff, angst, and SMUUUUUUUUT that I won’t be posting here. Pleeeeeease, go check it out. AO3 username: kmindset

#vampire!jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts au #jeon jungkook #bangtan #bts #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkookie #Dad! jungkook #i hate tagging #please share #please give feedback #i need validation #bts angst

[cherryflavoredblood]

Valentines Day Headcanons!

uhmm.. not the best at romance but i’ll try my best.

mild nsfw warning!

                                              🌹Yuuimori🌹  

 -This man just wanted an excuse to spoil the fuck out of you. Will take you shopping for everything you want and after he’ll take you out on a date (multiple dates in fact.) Once you get home you’ve noticed that the entire house is decorated and lighted up. He’ll cook even if you’ve eaten before, and run a bath. 

 -Roses, roses and more roses. His favorite flower ever, and they’re everywhere. Petals scattered across the floor, in the bathtub, on the bed. The entire house smells like roses, he smells like roses, you smells like roses. He cooks and somehow makes it taste like roses, my god.

 -He’s usually shy, but today he’s super talkative and flirty. Praising you every second he can, making jokes and even flaunting to everyone about you.   

 -At the end of the day, all of this is just to please you. He wants you to feel special and loved and cared for.. okay, most of that is true. Truth is, he’s obsessed with you. He wants to claim you, and then shove his relationship down everyone’s throat  He’ll laugh and mock the people who ask you to be their valentine. He can care less today if he looks gross or creepy, his head’s way too far up his own ass.

                                                     ✝Olearius✝ 

 -He’s down bad, down horrendous and locked in horny jail. He doesn’t want to leave you the hell alone. He’s constantly rubbing against you as if his life depends on it, his hands are always on you whether that be holding your hand or touching you inappropriately. He made you dinner and made you cum at the same time, how romantic.

 -”They say, chocolate is a aphrodisiac” Chocolate, in every dish and every drink? Chocolate hearts and chocolate gift boxes, he just wants that aphrodisiac to work even if it might not. Lactose intolerant? Yikes, he’ll order special chocolate for you, or hell, he might just slip a drug into your meal if he needs.

 -Despite being a total pervert and degenerate, he won’t touch you if you don’t want him to. In fact, he’s quite the charmer so he’s got another valentines plan for you. Art! He’ll paint and sketch for you, might even write you a song. He’ll let you sit on his lap and he’ll play piano for you until you fall asleep. 

 -To horny jail we go again..  needless to say, the best Valentines day gift is contraception. Since you’ll most likely be getting creampied every hour, birth control is a must.

                                                 🥩Shirca🥩 

 -”Morning, I made you something” She’ll wake you up to a big breakfast. Your favorite music playing softly in the background while she eats with you. Shirca’ll start up a nice conversation with you, and read you the card she made.

 -She’ll buy you clothes all in your favorite color, after all, a friend deserves to be dressed well. If you don’t like getting clothes from people, she could always take you shopping, it’s not a big deal. 

 -The most romantic thing is dinner.. right? Well, she’ll cook for you again. However, in a horrible nice attempt you get to see the process, since this is a special day. She picked out the most special person to eat, bought a new hacksaw for this. Shirca lets you cut first, and even lets you do it yourself if you insist to. Whatever cut of meat you want, you get to make. Choose wisely

. 

                                                  ⚜Vanathin⚜

 -’”Romance is dead, Bitch” Doesn’t feel much romantic attraction. Please pretend it’s a normal day today. However that might be a bit hard to forget a holiday as big as this.

 -So... plan B. Vanathin will most likely spend time on his phone during the day. He’ll send you memes and videos. And might even draw something on a app for you. 

 -Nighttime rolls around, V takes you out somewhere. A alleyway. “This.. this is more important than this fucking romance bullshit” Lets just say, his idea of love is brutal, bloody and illegal.

-Let him show his love, don’t fight please. Unless you want to, fine by him.

                                                      ⚔Xancer⚔  

 -Holy shit, no. This man despises this holiday, much like his brother.

 -Will make you a card just to shut you up. You open the card, all it says is “I fucked your mom, shit-lips”

                                                   🎠Yvette🎠

-Does whatever you want! She just loves the company of you, she’s never had a valentine before so she’ll try her hardest to make this day special!

-Knows the best bakeries and ice cream shops in town, so she’ll take you to one of those. Buys you all sorts of sweets to take home even after you’ve ate. 

-When you get home, she’ll put on a movie to watch and make some popcorn. You two can cuddle up on the couch and watch to your hearts content. She’ll even carry you to bed if you fall asleep.  

-Loves you very much, and to show that she showers you with affection all day, just a bit too much affection.

                                                  🦴Mateo🦴

-”Happy Valentines Day!” Jumps on you the second you get home. He rushes you over to his bedroom to show you all the gifts he got. A bouquet of flowers, a few boxes of candy, a card and a few blunts..?  

-He baked some cookies, and styled a entire animal crossing village for you. Everything in that village was perfect.. wonder how he did it? While you enjoy the game, he’ll light up a blunt for you two to share. 

-He’ll grab your face, and just stare at you... see where this is going? Soft makeout session fo today. It’s more passionate than usual, he seems lost in it. 

-Eventually the day ends with him eating all your candy, and all the cookies. The entire house is trashed and you hardly did anything that big. 

                                                     🍷Yoo-Ri🍷

-. Starts your day off doing your hair, nails, makeup and dresses you in the outfit she bought. Makes sure everything is intact and perfect before she takes you out. 

-Reserved a spot at the most fanciest restaurant in the State. Buys the most expensive food for you, the best you’ll ever eat in fact. She’ll brag to the waiter on how hot you look, then tip them 100$. 

-After dinner, Yoo-Ri takes you out to a bar, yet another fancy place. She orders Cocktails and Shots. After getting you drunk enough she’ll take you home. Not to the place you and her live with everyone else, but to her own house. 

-Both of you are wasted, and it ain’t long before she touches you. She’ll push you to the ground, her hand pulling your hair, she degrades you. Disgusting words spit out in a slurred tone. You don’t understand what she’s doing, but can’t get enough energy to move. “Happy Valentines day, dumb fucking whore”

                                               🍹Seo-Hyeon🍹

-”There’s my favorite Bubby! Mornin’!” She’s so excited to see you, planting kisses on your lips and face. She grabs your hand and pulls you into the living room. Your gifts all neatly wrapped and bowed, glitter everywhere..

-She makes you lunch after you open everything. Eager to sit next to you and way too touchy. She Holds your waist and talks about all the things she likes about you. She constantly askes if what she made to eat was good enough.

-After the day you had, Seo lays you down on her and holds you close. Whispers to you how much she loves you. How much you make her happy and fulfilled. She let’s you sleep on her, won’t move an inch, she knows how tired her bubby gets.

#//valentines day #REDRUM:LTD

[gaming-grandma]

Another One Off

This is another short writing thing based off the popular server finale that has been circulating fan art and writing among the group. Figured i’d throw in the perspective of the person who committed the act!

 Eventually the mixing stopped and the few colors that existed settled into various corners. She was dripping with sweat, her body chained to something. Cold iron broke as she stood up, almost falling down the endlessly steep spiraling staircase. The elegant dress that surrounded her body didn’t feel there, it was flickering at the fringes, like it was on fire. She glanced around her surroundings and quickly sat back down before she would fall again.

 I can only keep this up so much longer…

That’s why you should stop.

She shrieked and grabbed at her neck, as if to strangle herself. It had been an eternity of torture and horrendous pain, and she still wasn’t used to it talking in her head. Her eyes were widened as far as they could as she screamed, her lungs and throat burning. When her shoulders fell and her head bobbed in sobbing, small mutterings could be heard.

“I’ll do anything…”

We both know that’s not true.

“what if it was.”

Then I’d gladly get rid of your carcass and eat them all.

That’s why she never let it happen. At least, that’s what she told herself the reason was. Was there a reason? Do the people she was protecting even exist? Nothing’s real here anyways. Everything is dust. Dust to dust… She could teach Moses a thing or two about dust.  Specifically, how it feels when it lines the inside of your body, when it’s inside your skull, when all you can see and feel is ashes and molten death as an alien entity possesses your flesh.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Jaw, slacked. She’s gone again. But not entirely. She was watching, control gone. The absence took over. It was in pain- the spirit was strong, but the flesh was weak. The body steadily stood up, crackling with black flames as it reached into the air and quickly opened a rift.  What happened next was no surprise to her.

The survivors again. Sometimes she couldn’t even remember their names. All she remembers is how they look. They taste. They smell. What the rotting corpses look like. What their blood feels like covering her body.

There was some kind of garden in her vision. Lights flashing and blinding her, but the body continued. She heard a booming voice as screams surrounded them. The fake sun in the fake sky began spiraling up and down across the horizons over and over. There was a weeping and gnashing of teeth that she had never thought existed. She hung there in an eternity of stasis, watching this unravel before her. She was responsible. It was all her fault. Darkness weighed down on her as the sun stopped, falling off the edge of the earth. Screams and death filled the air, the body smiling, arms wrapped in dark flames as she screamed. There was nothing she could do. Nothing she could do. Nothing she could do. She kept repeating this to herself, as if she were a child rocking in their bed late at night after a bad dream. Because, after all, this was some dream. Words would never describe the sick disgusting horror that this dream was, but she would survive it. That’s when she heard the most horrible words in her life.

Just when she had almost completely faded out, when all the survivors were bleeding and dying and dead, she heard words that screamed from her soul, words she wish she had never heard, words that changed everything. This was no longer a nightmare. This was no longer imaginary. It was real. Too real. From a voice she had long forgotten a millennia ago, but just now remembered.

 “You’re not my sister! I know her!” a voice cried out.

 And just like that, it was over.

  She was standing in a garden, it was dark out, fires and demons lurked all around her. The moon dial before her was cracked down the middle, surrounded with a gory mound of bones.

“what?”

She turned to her right and saw where the voice had come from. That’s when she realized she existed, and that she was in a body, and that something was missing. It was as though her soul had had a bite taken out of it, like a bleeding chunk of her essence was ripped out of her chest. She fell to her knees as the edges of the horizon became a vacuum of space that silently and immediately tore away the entire world. Now, all of the survivors were alive again. Their names started coming back to her, as all of them fell in the blackness, screaming and grabbing for each other. She looked up at the nothing and her ears filled with the piercing screams of the scientist, the fire starter, the warrior, the spider child, the bereaved, all of them. And amongst the flailing screaming human beings was Charlie, herself, her mind silent like the earth before humanity, silent like the horizon that no longer existed, the quietest the universe had been in all of existence.

Before she knew it, a sky filled with clouds and pine trees sticking up around the edges of her vision became a painting she was lying on her back looking up at. She reached her hand around and felt dirt, cool earth. Grass made her back itch as she lay there, a body in the woods, empty and bereaved for the first time in what felt like her entire life.

#don't starve #charlie #dst #famine friends

[earthbounddreamers]

James OC Asks

1. What do they smell like? He smells vaguely of a flowery perfume, but not so much you could pick up on it. 2. What is their voice like? His voice is smooth, slightly deep when he wants to be serious but higher most of the time. 3. What is their biggest motivator? He wants to be able to make other people happy, whether he knows them or not. 4. What is their most embarrassing memory? On his first day of work he dumped a vat of ice cream on the floor and had to spend an hour cleaning it up. The only reason he didn't get fired was because he was so devoted to owning his mistake and learning from it that they trusted he would make up for it (they also took the price of it out of his paycheck). 5. How do they deal with/react to pain? James is not good with pain. If there's adrenaline running he can ignore it but otherwise he's basically useless the moment something happens. 6. What do they like to wear? While he used to wear typically masculine clothes he's adopted a more feminine wardrobe with skirts and crop tops, and he always looks amazing. 7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively? He's been friends with Simon since they were 6 and everything has changed so much, he's impacted him and his life so much and will continue to until they die and they're like ghost bffs. 8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten? He once took every flavour of ice cream in the store and mixed it all together into a weird amalgamate smoothie and it tasted so terrible. Just a horrendous mishmash of flavours (the chunks of cookie dough or fruits made it even worse). 9. Describe the way that they sleep. Always sleeps on his back with his blanket either totally covering him or on the floor. With a partner he'll wrap his arm around them and loves it when they sleep with their head on his chest. 10. What is their favorite food/kind of food? He loves crepes, especially when he gets them from quiet obscure shops or stands. He loves all sorts of flavours, especially fruity stuff. 11. What do they feel most insecure about? While he's worked through the eating disorder he had he's still very self conscious about his weight and sometimes can't stand to look at himself. Scar and Simon actually work to check up on him and make sure he eats. Pequeño keeps an eye on him too, dragging him to the kitchen it he hasn't eaten. 12. How do they like to dress? He likes dressing very feminine, in flowery dresses and blouses, all cute pastels and looks frickin adorable in it. 13. How do they react to feelings of guilt? He feels terrible and beats himself up endlessly, that is until he gives in and apologizes endlessly until someone will forgive him. 14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal? He forgives them automatically. They didn't mean any harm, it wasn't supposed to be like that, it's okay. But if they do it again - or someone helps him realize he doesn't have to forgive them - there's no going back. 15. What is their greatest achievement? The first job he got. He was 16 and randomly applied at the local ice cream shoppe with a resume Simon helped him make. At the end of the interview he had the job, and to him that was his greatest achievement. 16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep? Just sleepy. Like about to pass out at any given moment. His mind takes like 15 seconds to process information so it's like he has lag. He basically doesn't function. 17. What are they like when they’re drunk? A silly, goofy romantic. Once he gets too drunk though he can get aggressive and tries to intimidate everyone. It doesn't work. 18. What kind of music do they enjoy? Rock and musicals. 19. Are they right or left handed? Right handed. 20. Fears? Looking bad/gross/etc, also being alone. 21. Favorite kind of weather? Rainy days to stay inside. 22. Favorite color? Green. 23. Do they collect anything? Cute clothes. 24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more? Cold weather so he can bundle up. 25. What is their eye color? Emerald green. 26. What is their race/ethnicity? White. 27. Hair color? Black. 28. Are they happy where they are currently? Dating Scar, living with her and Sam? Y to the yes. 29. Are they a morning person? He's an okay morning person. He can manage it but doesn't like it. 30. Sunrise or sunset? Sunset. 31. Are they more messy or more organized? Messy, but he swears he knows where everything is (he doesn't). 32. Pet peeves? People who chew with their mouth open or talk with their mouth full (Scar pisses him off a lot but he loves her anyways). 33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance? A toy rabbit from when he was a kid. Desperately keeps it hidden from Pequeño. 34. Least favorite food? Raw veggies with no dip. 35. Least favorite color? Mustard yellow. 36. Least favorite smell? Grease. 37. When was the last time they cried? Had a nightmare about Scar attempting suicide, woke up crying and kept crying. 38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried? In bed with Scar and Sam, woke them both up, they comforted him. 39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured? Fucking around trying to build a bookshelf (come on it can't be that hard) and somehow shot a nail gun through his hand. He didn't even need a nail gun he just figured it would be faster than a hammer. Scar had to leave work to go take him to the hospital cause he was too embarrassed to actually call 911. 40. Do they have any scars? His left hand has a hole from the nail gun incident, between the lower bones of his pinky and ring finger on his left hand. Claims to be the second coming of christ and they didn't manage to crucify him. Scar continues to say he's a dumbass. 41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues? Eating disorders, anorexia and bulimia. Initially recovered when he was 19 and has never seriously relapsed. He's come close a few times but Scar keeps an eye on him so he never gets a chance to do anything stupid. He insists he doesn't need help so Scar made him a “diet buddy” to help her continue eating healthy so she has an excuse to ask about his eating habits (and he's getting worse at lying about that). 42. Do they have any bad habits? Just forgetting to eat. Maybe it's subconscious somewhere, but he just doesn't think about eating. Also doesn't pay attention to stuff, like ever. Crosses the road without looking, aims the nail gun based on his instincts, stuff like that. 43. Why might someone dislike them? He is loud and crazy and can come off as like the bad kind of Gryffindor. You know what kind of person I'm talking about. 44. Why might someone love them? A beautiful sweet boy. Loves everyone back. Amazingly smart despite how unbelievably stupid he is at times. Loves with a passion and lives with a fire. 45. Do they believe in ghosts? Yeah. Who else keeps leaving doors open and lights on? Definitely not him. 46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives? Scar would be hesitant, but trust him anyways. Simon would trust him without any hesitation. 47. Are they romantically interested in anyone? Scarlet. Beauty, grace, she'll kick you in the face. 48. Are they dating/married to anyone? Dating Scar, who is also dating Sam. He and Sam are friends but team up to spoil Scar with affection. 49. Do they like surprises? Yes. Surprise him with anything and he will scream in delight. 50. When is their birthday? September 18th, 199X. 51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday? Go bowling or roller skating with the gang, then drink with Sam and Scar at home as they marathon Lord of the Rings (even though they never make it to the second movie). 52. Do they have any family? His dad and his younger sister, Sara. His dad is a war vet and has enough money to work casually as a carpenter. Sara is deaf and owns a coffee shop based on silence. Only quiet music plays, and you order by checking off options on a menu. It's a hit with introverts, as well as many neurodivergent people. 53. Are they close to their family? Yes, he visits them once a week, as they continue to live together. 54. What is their MBTI type? INFP. 55. What is their zodiac sign? Virgo. 56. What Hogwarts House would they be in? Gryffindor, but he would fit in Hufflepuff. 57. What D&D alignment are they? Chaotic good. 58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about? Simon and Scar attempting suicide. Whether recreations of the past events or new ones, those are really the only nightmares he ever has. 59. What are their views on death? It'll happen someday but please please please be far away. 60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at? Scar’s terrible jokes. 61. When bored, how do they pass time? Video games, usually. 62. Do they enjoy being outside? Yes, but if it's too hot and there's no water he gets tired of it. 63. Do they have an accent? Traces of a Jersey accent from his dad. 64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction? Terribly torn betwee, “god that must be delicious” and “got that looks disgusting”. 65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say? Gather together all his friends and try to tell them all anything he thinks he needs to. Spends every second possible with them. 66. How do they feel about sex? He likes it, and has an average libido. 67. What is their sexuality? Pansexual. 68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood? Yes, but he can usually handle it. But if it's own he tends to faint. 69. Is there anything that they find really gross? Processed food. 70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them? The dumb but funny and loving friend. 71. Do they enjoy helping people? Yes, he helps anyone in need. 72. Are they allergic to anything? Nope. 73. Do they have a pet? Pequeño, his little furry son. 74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they lose their temper? No, it takes a while to make him angry. But when he breaks he is ready to murder a bitch. 75. How patient are they? Very patient with people. But waiting for stuff? Gets very bored, very quickly. 76. Are they good at cooking? Well he's not gonna burn it, but it's not too good either. 77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often? Dickweed. And usually only insults people as jokes/out of friendship. 78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy? Very bubbly and social, will talk your ear off and compliment you a lot. 79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears? He's determined to remember what it is and protect them at all costs. 80. Are they trustworthy? Very trustworthy, you can trust him with anything. But he's pretty forgetful so he might not remember to do it. 81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it? He tries to, and he's not good at it. 82. Do they exercise regularly? Scar drags him to the gym once a week, and she barely manages that. 83. Are they comfortable with the way they look? Most of the time he is, but he has phases where he gets seriously insecure and can't look himself in the mirror. 84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people? He loves muscles and any typically masculine, rough kind of attributes. 85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive? Strong personalities that are also quiet, to balance out his own loud personality. 86. Do they like sweet foods? Yes but can't stand eating very much. 87. What is their age? He's 17 and turns 18 in Missing Streams, but he's 20 in general canon. 88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between? Kinda tall, 5’9” 89. Do they wear glasses or contacts? No. He's slightly short sighted but not enough to even notice. 90. Do they consider themselves attractive? Not attractive, but he's confident he isn't ugly either. 91. What is their sense of humor like? Dumb jokes of all kinds, from stupid puns to fart sounds. 92. What mood are they most often in? Usually in a generally positive mood. 93. What kinds of things anger them? Chewing with mouth open, or talking with mouth full. 94. Outlook on life? This isn't too bad, let's have some fun. 95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed? Thinking about how much terrible shit all his friends have been through. 96. What is their greatest weakness? Having to take care of himself. 97. What is their greatest strength? Cheering someone up. 98. Something that they regret? The damage he did to his body due to refusing help for his eating disorders. 99. Biggest accomplishment? Working through it all and becoming more than his mental illness. 100. Create your own! Ask anything you want!

#james #james bradley #ms #my ocs #asks

[celestialvexation]

Vultuous

@joyatadifferenttone asked:  So I was tryna think of a good prompt for Henry and you and the phrase "in his eye's darkroom" kept repeating in my head (from that one Sylvia Plath poem, Bluebeard). SO. Interpret 'his eye's darkroom' however you like as the 'place.' :3

   “But I don’t want to go among mad people," Alice remarked. "Oh, you can’t help that," said the Cat: "We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad."

    Let this be a dream so there could be an explanation to it. An absurd demand as he had been having many dreams beforehand and none are as horrendous as this. Even moving any part of his body felt surreal on their own as if it is not he who controls it. Henry flexes his fingers once. Twice. Eyes moved from one part of the room to the next.      Ah, how could he ever forget? Perhaps that is why he makes ludicrous demands. Those chains felt mocking towards him. As in they give the illusion that there is freedom. There is hope.      No need to feel discouraged about it, correct?

    His entire apartment seem to shift and deform in front of his eyes. Can it be a hallucination? A delusion? A trick of the mind? Could he even surmise the answer when he found himself staring at the wall for the past thirty minutes? A sigh left him as he stood up, opening the bedroom door. Reaching at the end the hallway, Henry slowed to a stop. He turned to look back at the gaping hole that led to...    How could he even call it a room? It emitted rot and despair, just enough to make his skin crawl. The stench of death burned at his nostrils and it brought a disgusting taste in his mouth. Oh, how he wanted to find something to cover that hole up. Erase the memory of its existence.     Emerald eyes drifted from there to the chains that barred his only chance at freedom. His eyes narrowed a margin when he thought he saw the chains’ shape that reminded him of a certain character from his favorite book. The white rabbit. A frown quirked as he found himself wishing that there could be one that would lead to salvation. Instead, he is to be taken to the horrors that could not be conjured from the human mind.      Instead, he felt it tug at his hand in the direction of the hole.     Almost like a siren’s song, Henry felt compelled to enter. His mind had a life of its own as it whispered just as enchantingly: “The keys of liberation are there. Grab them and enjoy your freedom. Do not think of it as that hellhole. Think of it as your sanctuary.” The words prompted his body to move, footsteps muffled by the carpeting underneath. Eyes blinked once then twice as he approached the hole. Henry very much wanted to escape. He nearly wanted to pray and wail to the heavens above to grant him that wish. It sounded so simple to him...     A red light engulfed him as he entered, almost calming the disharmony in his spirit. It felt so damn familiar. Red is the color of anxiety, of danger that was to come. For Henry, it was of still images and processing film. He stepped forward to a sink and hanging photos that were yearned to be taken. They were of the outside world. Locations that Henry has visited.      A local garden. A park. Butterflies sitting side by side on a lonely flower. The clear blue sky over a still ocean. It eased his mind and dulled his senses like an appreciated dosage of morphine. Henry touched at one picture. Then another. That’s when he saw it. A photo of keys on a ring. Tilting his head in confusion, he went up to reach it....     ...Decay. The scent hit his nose before it could fully register it. Henry blinked and his face had been inches away from the rotting corpse of...     HIM.     Nausea did not even come to him. Either it became lost on him or it is a delayed reaction to suddenly see this sight. Swallowing a hardening lump, Henry’s eyes drifted downwards to find something that made his heart leap in pure joy. Keys. Sinister looking ones but they resembled the ones he saw in that picture. He reached for it, the cold metal contrasting the heated, sweaty hand. Henry let out a deep breath as he slowly moved away as if the corpse will suddenly spring to life and attack him.      Muttering a curse, Henry turned and exited the room with his stomach thankfully free of any twists and curls. His prayers have been answered, he had thought once he desperately fit the keys into the chain.     "How do you know I’m mad?" said Alice.     The padlocks came off with a loud clatter that made his heart thump in his chest. Wide eyes stared up in excited anticipation as the door slowly creaked opened. Henry, with great trepidation, exited out the room...      "You must be," said the Cat,      Thin fingers clutched at chestnut colored hair, tugging painfully. The smell of decaying flesh filled his nose as Henry was pulled back into the room, the door closing after him without so much of a sound.       "or you wouldn’t have come here.”

#uuuhhhh this turned waaaaay more than a drabble #i got so into it holy shit #hope you like it???? #and i hope it fits to what you're thinking lmao?? #feel free to reblog this!! #also for anyone else who likes it ;A; #jaunty writes a thing