#just the dark abyss of space <3

[bitchimasnake-sss]

i love reading your fics, they always give me 🦋🦋🦋 i love them so much, so, i want to make a request a angst-comfort where zoro and reader are dating but they got into a fight (*cough* zoro got jealous and starts to question reader's loyalty *cough*) but it ends happily because I don't want cry. n e way, continue writing stories, you write them so well... 😚

im so glad you like my work!! and thankyouu so much for sending in the request, let's get to itt <3

moss and towel ft. roronoa zoro!

set-up: in which, you and zoro have been dating for six months. but after one fight night and growing distances, he finds himself questioning everything you've built together.

warnings: (poor attempts at writing) angst, zoro acts like an idiot, profanities. yeah, that's about it.

the winds were cruel tonight and even crueler were you. atleast there was some comfort in the cold gusts, some reason in the way they played against the swordsman's skin and left behind selfish goosebumps. atleast, he could attempt to understand it with nami's weather charts or whatnot.

but you. how could he attempt to understand you?

his eyebrows bunched as he stared up, fixing his gaze against the twinkling points. groaning, he put his hand over his eyes. maybe in a way, sure, it was his fault. he was never good with words or those fancy poems or haikus. he was never the one to resort to affection. but how was he supposed to fix this?

the first mate of the ship rested a fraction of his bodyweight against the wooden railing of the crow's nest. the wind tousled his unkempt hair and running a hand through his moss-green locks, he vaguely tried to remember how long it had been since nami dragged him into the bathroom and gave him a haircut again.

probably too long. he concluded with a sigh as the soft tresses caressed the mid-point of the back of his neck.

he was supposed to meet his girlfriend here. that's what had been decided. just you, him and the infinitely infinite night sky. the swordsman had even decided to talk about his feelings 'neath the dark abyss of the sky (even if he hated the mere idea of that).

but it had been 30 minutes and there were no signs of you anywhere.

life had been hectic for the both of you lately, whether it was because of the constant run-ins with the marines, zoro having to accompany luffy to side-quests or some other shit the sea sprouted every once in a while. either ways, it meant that you and him saw less and less of each-other as each day passed him by.

resigning himself to a tired sigh, zoro decided to climb downwards. you were not gonna come, that much was sure.

as his heavy feet planted against the wooden floor, he took a second to collect his thoughts. he started walking the stairs to go under the deck, to the common space where most of the crew lounged at the end of the day. descending, he thought of all possible explainations. maybe you had been caught by someone else and forced to listen to one of their anecdotes, maybe nami had asked you to help with the log pose calculations of the last island, or maybe chopper wanted you to help him grind some fresh medicine.

maybe-

he stepped inside the common place with heavy footsteps and a heavier heart and immediately saw you. you, ever so beautiful with you soft smiles and your lame jokes. you with your flowing hair and unruly habits. you, that was currently laughing along to something that shit-cook was talking about.

he must have caught your gaze cause you immediately looked away from sanji and to your boyfriend, giving him a soft smile. but he left the room without returning that gesture and you found yourself on your feet, walking after him and confused.

you trailed after him, calling his name out sweetly till you reached his room and he shut the door before you could get in.

"hey!" you laughed playfully, twisting the handle with ease and stepping inside. you closed the door behind you and tucked your arms around your chest, sporting a lively pout.

but he seemed to have to reaction to your antics, instead, deciding to carefully lay his three swords on the bed behind him as if he was courting the swords and not you.

"what's up with you?" you raised an eyebrow at him, amused by the way the man sat at the edge of the bed with an annoyed huff. when he said nothing, you pressed again, this time a bit more direct, "why are you grumbling now?"

he's been like this for the past few days and now that he refused to elaborate, you found your patience slipping off of you like a thin overcoat, leaving you behind in your ugly, impatient skin.

today had been hard, like any other day. and for some reason or the other, instead of inviting you into his arms, this man had swore to make your life even more difficult.

"zorooo," groaning, you asked again, "can you stop being so dramatic?"

his head snapped up, eyes finding yours with wicked ease. his jaw was clenched tight, face red as if he was burning up, "i am being dramatic? me?"

"yeah? you're being so fucking weird." you sighed, "why?"

"i dunno, go ask that fucking cook maybe?" he grumbled.

if the exasperation on your face wasn't obvious until now, after that comment, it was surely on full display.

"what?" you hissed, "what is up with you and all these weird accusations?"

"as i said, i dunno. ask that fuckin' waiter instead, why don't you? i'm sure he'd have some answers lined up."

"why are you dragging sanji into this?"

"why are you defending him?" he stood up, his face mirroring your exasperation tenfold. he crossed his arms similarly to yours and the muscles shifted impatiently under his shirt.

you threw you hands upwards, "im not defending him! i am aski—"

"—yes you are defending him, don't even."

you were tired.

god knew you every inch of your muscles were alight with exhaustion, your head was pounding and if he wanted to fight you, you wouldn't even have it in you to fight back. these past few days had been enough on their own. so, you sighed, taking on a resigned tone, "i am so tired, zoro. can't we do it another day?"

"yeah, right." he grumbled again, his eyebrows bunching together in a characteristic manner, "everything needs to be pushed back with you, right?"

"what is that supposed to mean?" you were sure smoke was rising from the top of your head and your pupils were comically blown out, "i was tired and wanted to take some time off, so, i had sat down. and sanji found me to make some ideal chit-chat. god forbid i be tired for once-"

"i was waiting at the crow's nest for the past 30 minutes, where were you?"

"huh—" fuck. your eyes widened as the terrible realization set in. almost on instinct, your fingers reached out to touch him so as to makeup for the terrible deed you had committed. but your boyfriend pulled himself back, dodging your careful grasp before rasping out, "don't."

"zoro, i'm sorry! really, i genuinely cannot believe i forgot—"

"so, you forgot me over that fucking cook?"

"no!" you repeated, slower, "no, of course not. i was just tired and—"

"—and you decided to go off with him instead?" he scoffed, "i thought we were dating and yet, i think we've barely had any time to just spend together. every time it's someone or the other you have to rely on, not me."

"zoro..." you started carefully but he cut off you off, "don't zoro me. it's either nami or sanji or luffy or someone or the other. i wouldn't be surprised if you're fucking blondie behind my back too."

you stared at him, shocked. the wretched feeling gnawed at your insides till you looked at him in pure, utter disgust. the corners of your eyes burned up and you spat out, "don't fucking talk to me."

and you left the room, slamming the door shut behind you.

zoro stared at the place you were standing at and then slowly dragged his eyes at the door that you had slammed shut.

fuck.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆🪐⋆⭒˚｡⋆

well into the night, when he finally had swallowed his pride and mentally beat himself enough, he walked out of his room.

his steps were slow, stride careful so to not panic the mostly sleeping crew. searching through the washroom and the kitchen, the supply closet and chopper's tiny, stashed-away office, he failed to find you. then, he stepped out onto the deck and in a clean sweep, found you at the port side. the wind blew ideally though your hair and you stood with your arms on the railing.

the swordsman silently walked up to you, choosing to stand beside you without saying much. and if he had hoped for you to start the conversation, he was in for a long, long night.

"hey" he finally started off.

"i think i told you to not talk to me."

your feet shifted and you balanced your bodyweight away from him and he pursed his lips. standing in silence, the sounds of waves crashing against the ship painted you both in a uncomfortable hues.

he tried again, "i- i am sorry, really."

"don't care, didn't ask."

roronoa zoro bit the inside of his cheek, savoring the taste of foul rejection in his mouth over and over. but he had never been the one to go out without a fight. hell, he was the king of hell.

"but i am sorry." he repeated and his calloused fingers inched closer to yours, a poor attempt to ghost his skimming touches over your hand. but you were quicker and you pulled your hands back to yourself and wrapped them around yourself.

he slowly withdrew his hand and his head hung low, "how long are you gonna be mad at me?"

"i don't know? probably till i want to."

"babe—"

"—don't babe me."

"i am sorry—"

"—to fuCKING HELL WITH YOUR SORRY!" your cool demeanor washed off and you bore daggers into his paper-like skin as you stared him down. your breath was laboured and you were sure your yells must have woken someone, if not the entire crew.

he stayed silent, ready to face the consequences of his actions. and although venom was a resident on your tongue, looking at his guilt-struck face, you were reduced to nothing but a dumbfounded, little girl.

whatever you had planned, whatever you had thought you'd call him, whatever accusations you had thrown you'd throw at him dissolved at the tip of your tongue. and instead, an ugly feeling stirred under your skin. the feeling sunk heavy in your chest and your stomach and your head and heart and every other crevice of you. bile crawled up your scratchy throat and the same waterworks made home on your lash line.

when you spoke, you were sure your voice sounded more like a desperate plea than a demand for apology.

"why? why did you say that? that was low."

he looked down at his feet, his fingers twiddling against the sword hilt of his wado ichimonji in an attempt to self-soothe, "i know it was wrong. i was just so angry."

"and that makes it okay for you to question my loyalty?" you sniffed, feeling the watery weight cascade down your cheeks.

"no!" he looked up, alarmed, "no! ofcourse it doesn't. i never was— i was just—" he paused, wincing, "—i was jealous of him."

"sanji?!"

he continued, agonized, "yes, the damn cook. and everyone else, i guess. you seemed to have time for everyone but me."

"zoro, why didn't you just say it out loud to me?" you whispered softly. inching closer to him, you rested your palm against his warm cheek. his growing stubble lightly tickled your skin. you hummed softly when he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, pressing an easy kiss to your fingers. "because i- i just couldn't bring myself to. i'm sorry, i should have talked to you rather than being a prick, really."

"i am sorry too. i know we haven't spent any time for the past two weeks or so. i was so busy within myself that i didn't reach out to you." your fingers played gently against the scars on his face from years of training, "these past few days have been hard—"

"—they've been hell."

you laughed despite yourself, "yeah, i guess they've been hell."

his eyes swayed against yours in a guilt-ridden dance, "forgive me?"

you paused a beat, "do you trust me?"

his answer came more easily than breathing did, "more than i trust myself."

you hummed, "sure?"

and he just nodded. as moments passed you both by, he finally quipped up, "so, am i forgiven?"

"well..." you pondered for a second, "technically, i did fuck up too. so, yeah, you're forgiven." you glared at him, "just never say that kinda shit again."

he smiled and when he spoke, he offered a kind explaination, "i didn't actually mean you were fucking the cook. i just- just kinda said it."

"eh," you waved off his comment, "i don't wanna fuck blondes, anyways. to be honest, not really my type."

"huh?!" his eyes widened in play-pretend, "so his hair colour is holding you back?"

"i mean i'm more into idiots who grow slowly on me. like moss does on a wet towel."

roronoa zoro— bounty hunter, pirate, first mate to a terrifying crew, kind of hell, demon, whatever— looked appalled. "are you comparing me to moss?"

"i am comparing how you grew on me to the lowest form of moss that even grows on the stupidest surfaces."

"don't call yourself stupid, now."

you huffed and turned around, walking towards the stairways that led to the rooms, "i am gonna stop talking to you again!"

he laughed, taking in easy strides to walk after you, "just kidding. i promise. your moss, ever and forever more."

he met your pace, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. you gave him a wayward grin, "good."

he gave you one right back, "great."

"i'm tired."

"me too."

as you both disappeared back into your room, hand in hand, you made a comment about how much his hair grew and he responded with "like moss grows on a wet towel?". next morning you found yourself waking up to the swordsman's heavy snores and heavier body against you.

stupid moss-head.

a/n: i think i like how this turned out lol. hope it's okay @rkiveinmarvel and as always, thank you to anyone else who reads this <3

#one piece #opla #op #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro fluff #one piece fluff #zoro fanfic #zoro imagine

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 24

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Two in a row?!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The dullness of the home renovation show does little to combat your fatigue. You watch the drilling and trimming and plastering from behind a glossy curtain, yawning and swaying against Andy. You really just want to go lay down but you don't have the courage to insist on it.

Your eyes roll back only for you to snap your head forward, forcing yourself awake. Several times you feel yourself start to slump to one side. You don't know how much longer you can stay awake.

You feel the air in your nose clog and a rumble in your throat. You're too far gone to catch yourself as you succumb to your exhaustion. You sink into the fuzzy abyss, welcoming the rest for your mind and body.

You sleep without thought, without dreams, or worries. The deep blackness that blurs time and space, the very concept of your existence fading into the void. You forget everything for the dulcet comfort of unconsciousness.

You feel something on your arm. A long, soft caress. It's almost soothing, so subtle and gentle that you're not sure it's real. You moan and sniff through your dry nose.

"Amber?" You murmur, "I'll get up in a minute."

The hand squeezes and you curl your shoulders forward. You're too tired. You just want to sleep forever. You murmur as the touch descends to your elbow and the hand slips down to your stomach, spreading there.

It is much too big to be Amber. And why would she be in the bed with you? Against you? You feel the warmth radiating along your back.

You open your eyes as you're drawn into a stolid embrace. You look down and see the freckled arm around you. Oh. What do you do?

You feel his breath behind your ear, fanning up your scalp. You've never been this close to anyone. Especially a man.

"Andy," you squeak. "Andy…" you grab his wrist as your chest squeezes with panic. He needs to let you go!

"Hmph," he grumbles groggily.

You don't care if he's sleeping. He's touching you. He's got you trapped! You don't like this. You need to get away.

You need to sleep on your own. You need space. You need to be alone!

"Andy!" You squeal and dig your nails in as he hugs you tighter, "get off!"

You writhe as your voice piques. You flail as he keeps a hold of you. He shifts but doesn't let you go. You throw your elbow up and twist around, the impact cracking hard as you're released at once. 

You hit the floor as Andy grips his cheek and grunts. You gasp as you realise what you've done. Oh no! You never meant to hurt him.

"Ow," he hides his face behind his hand, "dove…"

"I'm s-sorry," you stutter, dizzily getting your feet under you, "I didn't mean to–"

You step forward as he peeks out between his fingers. The hurt in his eyes gives you pause and you wince. Oh god! 

"S-s-sorry!" You clap your hands against your cheeks and spin, "I'm sorry! Please! Don't be mad–"

You run without looking, without thinking. You hit the edge of the couch as you race frantically out of the room. You stumble up the stairs, not looking back as you fear he might be after you. That you may have just pushed him too far. But you deserve it, don't you? You hit him first.

You burst into the guest room and scramble to lock the handle. There is no mechanism. Shaky and terrified, you get on the other side of the dresser and push it with your shoulder. It scrapes over the floor until you have it across the door.

You slide down and curl yourself into a ball on the other side, heart beating wildly. No, no, no. Stay out. Stay out!

You can hear his footsteps coming up the stairs and his barely repressed groans. There's a tap on the other side of the door before the handle turns and the dresser lurches but doesn't give. You whimper and cover your head.

You remember the way the chair leg smacked against your head, how the blows came down over and over, on every part of you. You remember how it left your breaths rattly and your bones screaming. You remember how Amber held you and told you it would be okay.

Where is she? You want her there to promise you that you're safe. You left her behind. 

"Dove, please, let me in," Andy says from the other side.

You don't say a word. You gulp as tears spring up. You don't want to remember. Stop!

"Dove, please, I'm not mad," there's friction on the door, "let's talk. What happened?"

You shake your head and ball yourself up tighter.

"Why did you hit me?" He lowers his voice.

You let out a sob. You don't know why. You didn't mean to. It never matters what you meant, it only matters that you're wrong.

"Dove," his voice rises again, "you can't just close me out."

You have no answer for him as you tremble in a heap, trapped between the past and present, paralysed for what's to come. 

"Aren't you going to apologize?" He scoffs.

You have no words, no strength, you have nothing but fear. 

He hits the door and you yelp, "Dove! Answer me." He snarls, "this is my house."

But he touched you. He was touching you! No, how can you be wrong? If he was touching you?

You're confused. It was an accident and yet you feel guilty. But Amber always says you should protect yourself. So why do you feel so rotten?

He huffs and clucks, "I can wait."

You open your eyes and slow drag your arms down, folding them across your chest. You wait and listen. He doesn't retreat right away, no he lurks outside and for a moment you think he's going to stay there until you come out. When at last his footfalls pad away, you're not relieved.

Eventually, you're going to have to leave that room. 

🕊️

Eventually comes in the form of your throbbing bladder. You stand at the door, facing the inevitable, dreading the outside. You shift the dresser inch by inch, trying not to make a noise. You move it only enough to fit through the door.

You peek into the hallway and hold your breath. The evening has come and the house is dark. You creep out, hoping you've gone unheard. You've always been good at being unnoticed.

Until Andy.

You tiptoe over the carpet and glance down towards his door. Your chest twinges with guilt. You hope he's okay. You can only feel the force of your elbow hitting him. You can hear the impact repeating in your head.

You quickly flit into the bathroom and shut the door. You flip the lock up and stand in the dim space. You don't bother with the light switch as you do what you need to and turn the faucet on only halfway to wash your hands.

You take a breath as you face the door. Just a few steps across and you can hide away. You ease it open little by little and let it fall ajar as you see the shadow waiting for you outside. Andy reaches over to flip the overhead light on.

You chew your lip as your eyes sparkle with a sudden wash of tears. You teeter on your toes as the white bulb shines through the glass sconce and illuminates the darkening blemish under his right eye. You did that.

"Andy..." you eke out.

He looks at you, tight-lipped, his own eyes glistening. He takes a deep breath that makes his chest rise and fall. His jaw grits and cheek twitches. He puts his hands on his hips.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I told you..." you blubber.

He shows his palm, raising his hand as he drops his chin. A long exhale before he lifts his head again. He lets his shoulders fall.

"We need to talk," he says.

"I... know," you hang your head in defeat.

He gestures down the hall and you offer no resistance. You walk ahead of him, keeping your posture low, wanting to shield your head as you expect the worst. He points you down the stairs and follows your descent.

You enter the dining room at his direction and you sit at the table. He pulls out the chair across from you and lowers himself with a sigh. He pushes his hands up his cheeks and winces, leaning his weight on his elbows against the table.

"You hit me," he says staunchly.

You stare at the table, wilting as you bring your feet up onto the seat and hug your legs. You nod.

"I said sorry--"

"Dove," he intones, "you hurt me. And as much as I want an apology, I want it to mean something. I want you to understand what you're apologising for."

"I am so sorry," you bluster as you snap your head up, "really, Andy. I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to. I would never-- I'm not a mean person."

"You didn't mean to but you did."

"I was confused. You were so close and--"

"You fell asleep. I was keeping you from falling off the couch," he hisses.

"Oh, uh, well, I... I didn't realise--"

"You keep making these excuses. I didn't want to... I didn't want to believe it but I spoke with Dr. Kemp while you were... hiding," he rolls his eyes, "and he agrees with me."

"What?" You heave, nearly choking on tears, "about what?"

"About you. About you're behaviour," he puts his hands down, folding them over the table. You watch the effort he puts into his next words, "about Amber. I didn't want to think about it, to possibly admit it but... she isn't the problem, honey."

"What does that mean?" You wipe your nose, "Andy, what are you saying?"

"Look at me, Dove," he leans in, emphasizing the blotch under his eye, "look what you did."

"But-- but--"

"You take. Everything. People around you give and give and give and they get nothing in return. It's exactly what you did to her. Dove, I want you to get help, but you have to realise, you're not a burden, you're a leech."

You lean back, chest heavy as it hollows shakily. You can barely breath. Why is he saying this?

"No, no, I'm not--"

"You are. You're not stupid so give it up. You know exactly what you've been doing," he insists. His tone is even and hard but not angry. "I know you're not stupid because you know how I feel about you. And you push me away and make me feel like the villain. I'm the bad guy because I love you? Because you made me feel something and I let myself feel it--"

"Love? Feel? Wh-what?"

"Stop pretending you don't know," he snaps, "dove, you just keep hurting me. Look at everything I've done for you. Why would I do all of this if I didn't love you?"

"You love me?" You croak.

"I do and look what you did to me," he waves his hand at his face, "you did this but I'm not going to give up on you."

You bury your face in your hands and cry. Every word is like a knife slicing through you. They always say the truth hurts the most.

"Dr. Kemp is going to help you. He's going to help both of us work through this--"

"I don't understand," you say through your fingers.

"I know you don't, so you need to trust me," he reaches across the table as you open your eyes and tear your hands away from your face, "I can forgive you, this one time. And that's because I love you. Because it would hurt more to let you go."

You shake your head and clutch at your hair, "no, no, no... I never... I didn't mean to hurt you..." you babble, "Andy," you gasp and hit the edge of the table with your hands, "do you mean I hurt Amber?"

He looks down and swallows tightly, "honey, you know what you did. You know it. You have to accept it if you're going to change."

You shudder as the world seems to shrink around you. You really are just as bad as you always thought. All those years in your little bubble, with Amber lying to you, telling you that you're not a monster. She took your abuse and you took everything from her. How could you be so horrible and not even know it?

"I... didn't mean to. I didn't mean to. I didn't... mean to," you chant through thick sobs, "no, I didn't mean to..."

"Shhh, dove," he stands and you make yourself even small in the chair.

You wince as he rounds the table and kneels beside you. He hushes you as he touches your arm, rubbing it gently as he coos at you. You quiet to a hiccuping heave and look at him.

"Are you going to try?" He asks.

You nod and gulp loudly.

"That's good, sweetie," he praises and reaches up to caress your cheek, "Dr. Kemp is going to see us tomorrow and we can do this together."

"Us? Both?" You murmur in confusion as he runs his fingers back down your arm and takes your hand.

"Couples therapy," he explains, "we have to work on our communication."

"Couple... what?" You squint at him, lashes fluttering.

"Come on, dove," he stands and pulls you to your feet, "I told you how I feel, are you going to keep hurting me by pretending you don't feel the same?"

Your lip trembles. Do you feel the same? You don't know. You've never really known. You're just afraid and lost and confused. You don't want to be a bad person.

"You feel bad, don't you? For hitting me?" He asks and you nod, a sob wrenching in your chest, "and you feel bad why?"

You search his face, only looking in his eyes for a second before you can stand no more. You look at his neck and the tendons there, the way it bobs nervously, and the tension set into his shoulders. Your lips part and you puff out a shaky breath.

"Because... I love you?" You squeak the uneven statement through your quivering lips.

"You do but and that means it's going to be okay," he draws you into a hug and you don't fight it. You can't fight something you don't understand, "isn't it, dove?"

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #library au #defending jacob #series #don't speak

[snowleopardcrk]

“What a sorrowful end for you…But, I can fix that. I’ll put you back together, crumb by crumb...”

“It’s so…Cold…So, cold…It’s so…Empty, and cold… Where am I…?”

Of the Dreams Beyond

A Revolutionary Garden rewrite

After her near death experience when attempting to flee, Moonflower Cookie found herself in a void where the ground was embedded in little stars. Each little star was a fragment of a forgotten memory, by the convincing of a serpentine creature, Moonflower Cookie traps herself in a time loop she believes to be real.

Characters - OCs

This is a list of the notable characters within this AU, these are the Cookies you can ask questions as well.

Moonflower Cookie: We follow the story of this AU through her eyes. She’s the daughter of Pure Vanilla Cookie and White Lily Cookie and was baked before the Dark Flour War, yet her constant illness along side stress and anxiety in her childhood would form the present distant and colder self. Yet, could this forefront of her be entirely caused by her childhood experiences or could there be other factors at play?

Sweet Dream Cookie: She’s the spouse of Golden Cheese Cookie and has been for a very long time. She holds many mysteries and unanswered questions about her origins and her long life span that seems to match Golden Cheeses (she might even be older than Golden Cheese). She is still unconditionally loving and caring towards GC and her Kingdom (taking great care to study the kingdom, history and current events).

Snow Leopard Cookie: She is the apprentice to Crunchy Chip Cookie himself, after finding the little Cookie in the snow he took it upon himself to raise and train her like his own. The apprentice is nothing but dedicated towards the Dark Cacao Kingdom, but also finds great joy in cramming herself into tight spaces like crates or empty cabinets when off duty.

Sea Bunny Cookie: Though a later addition to the story, they function as a buddy towards Moonflower Cookie. Taking it upon herself to aid Moony in the health department (mental health specifically), keeping a close eye on her and to ensure her safety when possible. Sea Bunny Cookie is an upbeat and cheerful fella with a bombastic amount of energy and compassion for whatever they may set their gaze upon.

Characters - OCs

These are other OCs that you cannot ask directly but appear in the story.

Cloudy Pyrite Cookie: She’s the youngest daughter of Golden Cheese and Sweet Dream, she is very hard to keep up with and is quite impulsive with a dash of brattiness. She is always scurrying about trying to always do something to the dismay of Sweet Dream who can have trouble finding her sometimes if she’s trying to multitask.

Overseer / the Thousand Eyes: The serpentine of the abyss, it is a creature that looms around Moonflower, it’s presence unknown to everyone else in Moonys life. It is a creature of many contradictions yet no clear story on its anything, it’s intentions still unknown.

"Everyone has described to me what kind of joy and warmth one feels when your child is in your arms... Why cannot I feel warm? Its just, cold...She's no stranger, she's supposed to be my child."

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

Notes: Moonys voice claim comes from this video, both English and Japanese https://youtube.com/shorts/I6h-EmnqOps?si=dlHvkZmJJ_4OMXhb

(The girl in this video has an absolutely amazing voice) To be honest, I am excited for this rewrite <3 I've been working on it for a while (like, a month or two by now I've been planning).

Just to be warned, this stuff gets dark.

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #cookie run oc #crk #crk au #cookie run au #au #moonflower cookie #white lily cookie #pure vanilla cookie #pure vanilla crk #white lily crk #snow leopard cookie #sweet dream cookie #sea bunny cookie #cloudy pyrite cookie

[syzygyzip]

The Soul Still Burns: Analysis of the Lords of Cinder (DS3)

What follows is a short essay on the Lords of Cinder from Dark Souls 3, exploring their symbolism on spiritual and metatextual levels. After that is a related reading of Slave Knight Gael, the final adversary of the Dark Souls trilogy.

The Lords of Cinder are in many ways the primary adversaries of Dark Souls 3. This title they share, “Lord of Cinder,” refers to a personage who has rekindled the first flame, keeping the cycle of light and dark going.

Cinder is a substance which continues to burn without the presence of fire but does not reduce to ash. So euphemistically, it seems that the Lords are somehow stuck in their process of purification, and the game suggests that the world is stuck along with them; this is why it is the Ashen One’s task to “set them upon their thrones”—to hurry them along and thus allow the world to follow its natural decline. As individual characters, each of these Lords represents a different attitude that complicates and prolongs the cycle.

Through these stubborn Lords the game is commenting on at least two things. On the metaphysical level, it reflects the Buddhist idea that certain attitudes keep people reincarnating over and over again, unable to extricate themselves from the material world of suffering (samsara). While on the metatextual level, the game is suggesting that certain attitudes keep players coming back to Dark Souls again and again, starting new games, making new builds and revisiting old files.

The idea there on the metaphysical side finds an easy analogy in Buddhist doctrine: the “three poisons,” the three root causes of suffering. These are hatred, greed, and delusion. What’s interesting is that these essential vices also fit pretty easily onto the different types of players that are being caricatured by the Lords. We’ll break these correspondences down in a second.

But First: Why Do They Correspond? So we have these sets of three. Three lords, three poisons in Buddhism, three types of Souls players. How convenient. When we analyze art, we sometimes ask, “Huh, is this structure really there, or am I projecting it into the material?” And if the structure is really there, baked into the work, that doesn’t mean that it’s due to developer intention. Archetypal forms sometimes show up in work via an unconscious influence, be it due to the cultural milieu, personal psychology, or some a priori biological disposition of the human being.

And the thing about Dark Souls is that it’s an unusually honest piece of art, in that its creative team allows their own free associations and intuitions to show up in the work without too much self-censorship or questioning. They make space for a mystery to show up on its own terms, and in leaving its riddles unanswered, there is more space for discovery by the people who play it.

It should also be said that cultural ideas persist for a reason. Beneath the ethics and ideology of the people who originally named the Buddhist “three poisons,” there may be something timeless, something perennially descriptive of human nature. If that is the case, then it would make sense for this same triplicity to unfurl itself in other cultural products. So for one reason or another, these three poisons, these addictions, show up diegetically in the characters and are also expressed in player psychology.

I say all this just because sometimes I feel very aware of the disconnect between much of Souls lore discourse and the broader field of mythological study. Since we are gamers first, there may be this tendency to want to “solve” the lore, but that’s not what we’re doing here. Myth functions because it elaborates our experience of the world through affective resonance; it attaches images and characters and stories which help us anchor our own prelinguistic impressions of the world, cultivating our sensitivity there.

Anyway, let’s look at these Lords.

Abyss Watchers Poison: Hatred The lore of the Abyss Watchers is pretty clear: they have an obsessive fixation on the abyss, and are ready to raze an entire town if they suspect abyssal encroachment. This obsession has literally possessed them, as they are now “abyss touched.” Gaze too much into the abyss, etc. They carry such strong contempt for the disavowed object that they don’t care what comes between it and their sword. This is clearly demonstrated by the fact that they are a brotherhood yet are unhesitatingly slaughtering themselves again and again. Hatred has made them blind, and has also caused them to resign their individuality (they are identical, mere instruments of a transpersonal grudge). They cannot die, their hatred keeps them locked in combat.

Type of Player: competitive | Interest: combat The Abyss Watchers are a representation of PvP addicts. They have no powers other than tenacity; they perform the same combos repeatedly. When you are really gripped by a PvP binge in Souls, you often end up doing the same thing again and again. The fight takes place in a mausoleum, on top of many chambers filled with human remains. The fact that this boss fight is instructional about combat, specifically about looking for tells (a cloud of dust always signifies the end of their combos) might be another clue. There is no limit to how good you get at Souls PvP; every foe is an opportunity to improve timing and strategy. You can just keep stacking anonymous bodies under yourself.

Aldrich Poison: Greed Aldrich invokes the concept of supremacy many times: he is in the supreme area from Dark Souls 1; in the supreme boss room of that area; he wears as a crown the former supreme lord of that area. This is because he devours lords; he tries to take prestige upon himself through acquisition and incorporation—greed.

Type of Player: completionist | Interest: content Aldrich is a commentary on completionist players. He is someone who “plays the game to death”, acquiring every object, reaching every achievement, devouring the soul of the game through taking everything into himself. He becomes bloated by consuming as much of the game’s content as possible. The old God whose likeness he has adopted is Gwyndolin, who was, in narrative terms, the one pulling the strings in the land of the Gods. And in gameplay terms, he is a secret boss. So on both counts we have someone who is elusive, and exists more or less at the boundary of the gameworld. When a player tries to see every last little morsel of a game, they become somewhat like Gwyndolin, a manipulator of a virtual world. If you know too much about a game, you have the risk of being less immmersed.

Yhorm Posion: Delusion In Buddhism, the poison of delusion secretly underlies the other two poisons, as the impulse toward hatred and greed are ultimately born of some false view about reality. This is akin to how the profaned capital sits below the rest of the kingdoms. To beat Yhorm you essentially have to “play pretend” with him, picking up a fake super-weapon, or fighting alongside Siegward, a knight who appears to be somewhat deluded about the state of the world, enthralled in the same fantasy as Yhorm himself.

Type of Player: lore researcher | Interest: meaning The profaned capital is full of statues—fixed images of myth; and empty goblets—treasures with no utility. Not to mention the area with the swamp which is full of symbolic imagery, but serves no narrative or mechanical purpose. The entire profaned capital challenges us to make sense of it; it is the ultimate temptation of lorekeepers in DS3. It throws at us a disproportionate amount of reference to DS2, which is famous among Souls players as the least thematically sensible Souls game. The Greatshield of Glory is found right outside Yhorm’s room, in a conspicuous room full of treasure, and yet it is a very impractical shield and offers very little lore value. If a lore-minded player picks it up, it directs them to a legendary personage from the War of Giants, which raises far more questions than it answers. The same is true of much of this area—the Eleanora, the Monstrosities, the Profaned Flame itself—they are all there to get you to speculate. These are the players who come to Souls games again and again, trying to find the “ultimate meaning.” They seek the grail, claim to find it, and then chuck in a pile with the others.

Yhorm's story also imitates the primordial Artorias myth: forsaking his shield in preservation of something more valuable. Other than that Yhorm is largely a cipher when it comes to biography, with a void for a face, which itself epitomizes what must remain at the center of mythology and storytelling: mystery.

Sit Down and Seek Guidance So we have the three reasons that people become fixated on Souls: the combat, the achievements, and the mystery. But there is a fourth lord of cinder boss, who is conceptually apart from these three: the Lothric Twins. They represent yet another kind of person who must keep playing Dark Souls: the developers. Lothric is striving to produce “a worthy heir,” a proper sequel to Dark Souls 1. The Princes are bound to their chamber as the developers are bound to their project, as that is their curse—“but you may rest here too, if you like.” In this context we can see their duality as the dual nature of having to work on the game and also play it to death. The privilege and the loftiness of the promise of a great piece of art (Lothric), and also having to go back "into the trenches" of the work itself (Lorian). Notably, neither of them can walk, they just teleport around. They are stuck at work, trying to bring the new world into being. Also I can’t go this whole essay without mentioning the obvious: that the Ashen One is bringing Lords to their thrones, and we players and developers have to assume our little chairs and couches when we access this world.

Playing Beyond the Point of Pleasure Of course the most extreme example of someone stubbornly remaining in the world no matter what is Slave Knight Gael. He is looking for pigment, which seems to be a euphemism for the substance of humanity (the Dark Soul). He wants to give it to the painter, the world-creator, so that a new world can be made. He is willing to indulge in a wasteland of abject violence for as long as it takes in order to renew something. Ironic that he is probably only prolonging the current world in his obsessive drive to recycle it faster.

Let’s examine the relationship between the figure of the painter and her relationship to Gael. That she is a spiritual entity is obvious: we never see her touch the ground, she is always in an upper room and lifted on a piece of furniture. Among other things, she is a clear metaphor for life springing eternally. A creative child who continues to paint despite kidnapping and imprisonment. She is the heart of the painted world, itself a place that symbolizes the idea of the representation of reality.

I want to make sure this is clear, because it is a bit of a kaleidoscope to consider. Any subject in Dark Souls stands for many things, but something that the painted world specifically represents is the very concept of representation. So of course the places in our imaginations are painted worlds, but so is this physical world of appearance, the maya of mundane reality. Not to mention that a work of art is a painted world, and the game we’re discussing is a painted world. When a work of art is able to recreate itself in itself, we can see this funny effect of mirrors reflecting mirrors infinitely. This results in seemingly inexhaustible symbolic content—there is so much potential to find meaning and create connections. Because Moby Dick represents a work of literature; the Tempest represents a play; Twin Peaks represents a TV show, these works can offer extensive insights not only into their medium but into the nature of reality. In these and other examples, the representation of the medium within the work may or may not be a single subject, but since Dark Souls is formally a game about levels and level design, the painted world is the heart of its self-reflexivity. The painted world can be pointed to as the summary of this fractal device. And the personification of that device, its ambassador to the player, is the painter.

The miracle or divine child is also an archetype familiar to us from Lothric, in their struggle to produce the “worthy heir.” Reality seeks salvation through the appearance of grace. They want it in a clear, incontestable form—to be able to point at it and say, "thank goodness we went through all that, because look, now here is the meaning, here is that which validates all that came before." In the world of Dark Souls 3 the religion of the masses is the Lothric stuff; meanwhile knowledge of the painted world is much more obscure. Lothric’s religion is obviously regulated and hierarchical, while Gael’s devotion to the painter is highly personal and private: he carries around a scrap of painting; he prostrates to a hidden idol in a small chapel; he considers the painter his family. He is emotionally close to the object of his worship.

But whether it’s Lothric or Ariandel, they are anticipating the divine child to redeem the world. As an archetype, the child ultimately represents surprise. The possibility of being delighted by life in its creative novelty. The child as an archetype appears in our own behavior when we do something without any sort of contrivance or mental interference, doing something in the world which doesn’t seem to have come from who we conceive ourselves to be. This is miraculous. Such an action enchants the world, and there is no explaining it, even if it may weave all kinds of stories around itself, retroactively framing things that have led up to it as portents or promises. (Though not exclusive to him, this trait is well-known in characterizations of Christ, and DS3 is clearly indebted to Christian iconography, so do with that what you will). Regardless of the specific cultural invocation, the divine child is a personification of something that happens within the human spirit. TFW you are renewed by a fresh and spontaneous engagement with life.

The grace of the miraculous often comes to us through play. Play is more of an attitude than an activity; the feeling of play may come to us through making a painting, or chatting with a friend, or moving around in a video game. We can play video games idly, competitively, experimentally, creatively, studiously, whatever, the feeling of “play” can show up regardless. We can sit there playing a certain game from a certain motivation, and feel totally rote and joyless, and question, “Why am I doing this?” Or we might sit there and play the same game with the same motivation, feeling totally lit up by it, its purpose to us obvious and self-validating. We are not even questioning why we are doing it, we are enjoying life.

This is really the ground that the miraculous tends to land on. Grace, meaning, and an immanent love of life are more likely to show up when we are in flow and not exercising our capacity for self-assessment. But like everything in life, we mistake the images and objects around us for the feeling of grace. Any given object might only be the catalyst once; it’s not about the object. This is extremely easy to see in cases of acute nostalgia; adults chase enchantment through collecting Zelda memorabilia or going to Disneyland, in pursuit of what kindled their spirit as a child. It was never really the game or the character that was doing it, it was what they were able to access within themselves.

So anyway Gael has yet to realize this. He thinks the Dark Soul is out there in something else. That it will be yielded as a drop if he just kills the right enemy, or 10,000 enemies, or goes to the right place at the right time. You can see that this is something of a synthesis of all the other Buddhist defilements: there are elements of completionism/greed, violence/hatred, mysticism/delusion. There is even the suggestion of the developer of these games again, in that Gael is a “slave,” forced into participation in the world to assist some creative apotheosis. (Isn’t it funny that his weapon is a worn-down executioner’s sword?—whether the person coding or the person playing, we are all “executing” command after command). The thing that really keeps him on the wheel is something beyond any of the player types and their vices; it is almost some sort of pure, amoral automatism, a churning drive that on one side resembles wanton nihilism, and on another side single-minded piousness. Is one disguised as the other, or has Gael somehow stepped beyond this binary? Yet another dichotomy in Dark Souls that begs to be reconciled, but whose tension creates the opportunity to participate creatively in its expansive mythology. When things are held apart we can move between them.

To really understand Gael, we have to contend with the question of a person’s relationship to their own soul, since that relationship is so plainly suggested by Gael and the painter. (This question, by the way, is much elaborated in Elden Ring, with its repeated foregrounding of the image of the maiden or “consort”). If we were to see Gael and the painter as partitions within one person--whether she is his soul, or his inner life, or his better nature, whatever—then in any case Gael is the side which goes out into the world and experiences it. He is the creative extension into the world as its active participant and realizer. Yet he is clothed as the warrior, the executioner. While the one who is dressed as the artist, the painter, just stays in her room and imagines the world—but this is where the magic of creation is really felt. We involve ourselves in life, or in a game, but we are only really changed and renewed when that exterior experience is “brought home” into the inner life. We do something “in the game,” but the act of “painting,” in renewing the world through our creative interpretation, is a decidedly interior experience.

#dark souls #dark souls 3 #lords of cinder #game entrainment #dark souls analysis #dark souls lore #ariandel #slave knight gael #the painted world

[scandinavianfairytale]

Abyss

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, mentions of war, mentions of drugs, insomnia, coming to terms with PTSD, teeniest moment of verbal violence, soft Jake, Jake cries 🥺

A/N: Continuation of the fic 3 a.m. 😊

Jake woke up drenched in sweat again with his heart beating so fast his chest vibrated. As his mind flashed with images of Apachi planes and his hand clutched his chest, willing his heart to slow, he glanced around the room, trying to point out 20 things that he could see in his bedroom at that moment. Finally, glancing at the clock on the nightstand, he mentally facepalmed. It was 3 am. Like clockwork. His therapist mentioned that his body recognized time and woke him up at 3 a.m., precisely, just before the attack happened. PTSD she called it.

Bullshit. Jake thought, but in the back of his mind, he knew it made sense. No one was expecting the attack to happen at all, much less as 3:15 am. Not after the agreements were signed. Not when they were so close to going home.

He knew that if he closed his eyes and thought of it, he could name everything that he saw as he was jolted awake by heavy fire and screams. He could name every smell that invaded his nostrils. He could pinpoint the color of red he was drenched in after his comrades found him. As they pulled him out of the rubble of what was previously a bustling city...it was a miracle he was even alive.

Even though he knew it was PTSD, his mind didn't want to admit it. Others get PTSD, not him. Not Jake Seresin. Not Hangman. Everyone else but him.

Jake quickly turned on the small mushroom-like lamp, bringing some light into the dark room, and buried his head in his hands, rubbing his face to wake up. He stared at the sky, the stars littering the otherwise dark space, and he willed himself to stand up. He stretched and walked to his window, looking for the familiar lit-up apartment on the opposite side of the street.

Sure, enough you were up. It never ceased to amaze him how you were always up at this ungodly hour. If he could, he would've been peacefully asleep by now, but alas, it wasn't his choice. So he was ticked off that you willingly chose to stay awake when he didn't have the luxury of a choice.

It wasn't like you didn't want to sleep. Contrary to Jake's belief, you also didn't have the luxury of a choice when it came to sleep. Sure, you didn't have PTSD, thankfully, but your chronic insomnia made your life much much harder. And you tried everything, from meditation to pills. Hell, you even tried weed, but nothing made your insomnia better, so you ditched everything and just embraced the fact that you will be chronically tired and that you'll be awake at all the hours of the night. But, the good thing about you was that you managed to find the beauty in everything. You quickly realized that when everyone else slept, that's when life got beautiful. There was almost no noise, and you could really hear how the wind traveled through the streets, trying to find its way out of the labyrinth. The streets were safe. There were no catcallers, no people trying to pick you up, very few annoyingly bright neon signs that tried to lure you in. Life was simpler. And you loved it.

You were propped up on your windowsill on the fire escape stairs, thinking when you'll be able to go to sleep tonight, when you saw the light in Jake's apartment turn on.

Like clockwork.

As you saw his light turn on, you knew it was 3 a.m., meaning that you would probably again sleep for only an hour or two if you're lucky. Since that first time, when you actually met the handsome insomniac in person, you have met up regularly. Always in the middle of the night.

Immediately after making eye contact with you, Jake pointed down, and you nodded, jumping off the windowsill and disappearing into the light cream colored curtains. Jake grabbed at his tracksuit pants and a black T-shirt, getting quickly dressed. As he made his way to the curb on your side of the street, you were already there.

"No smoking tonight?" Jake asked, surprised.

"I know how much you hate it. You make it a point every time." You rolled your eyes in response.

"Thank you."

"Do you wanna take a walk with me?" You asked. Summer finally made it's appearance and with it, it brought the late summer nights you loved so dearly.

"I'd love to." He offered you his elbow and you stared at him weirdly.

"Just take my hand." He insisted, annoyed at your look. You really looked at him like he was offering you ecstasy or something.

"God, you really are from down South." He smiled at your surrender as you interlocked your elbows, and together, you slowly started walking. The walk was aimless. But you loved every second of it. It was like a ghost town, and it felt like you were completely alone. It calmed you down. And you suspected it also calmed him, by the way he decompressed as you walked.

"Was it bad tonight?" You asked as you looked at him. He met your eyes and inhaled deeply before nodding and exhaling.

"It was like I was there again. It's been a while since it was this bad."

"When is your therapy session?"

"On Wednesday."

"Have you thought about what she suggested last time?" You carefully asked.

"You mean if I want to start medicating?" He asked, his whole body tensed. You knew it was a sensitive subject, not just from his response but also from your own past. When anyone suggests medication, it feels like they and you are giving up. But you also knew that you could fight the demons only for so long before you need help.

"It doesn't make you any less capable of fighting PTSD."

"I don't have PTSD." He countered immediately. You both stopped, but your elbows were still linked. "And I don't want any drugs, I don't want them to distort my way of feeling, my way of living."

"How long do you think you can withstand this? How long can you hide from reality?" You raised your voice by a fraction. "The nightmares are only making it worse, make it harder for you to sleep and then because you sleep less, it makes you more anxious-"

"Stop talking." Jake pulled his elbow away.

"- and susceptible to the nightmares, which makes your PTSD worsen. -"

"Stop." He turned away from you.

"And on and on it goes. In circles."

"I said, knock it off!" He turned back to you, taking a step forward and shouted in your face.

"It makes you more irritated, angier." You calmly stared at him.

"Not yourself." Your eyes softened as his expression faltered and you embraced him as he crumpled onto you, crying. His hands clutching your sides, he clinged to you as if the reality really sunk into him for the very first time.

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Thank you for reading 💙

The GIF doesn't belong to me - belongs to the amazing creator 🙏😊

It's been a LONG while, life really got in the way of my creativity 🙈 but it was good (life), it still is, but I missed this rush where an entire dialog plays in my head 🥰

#glen powell #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin imagine #top gun maverick #abyss #short story #fanfiction

[sw33tsnow]

You want me exclusively

Dilf!König x Mechanic!Curvy!F!Reader (18+)

Summary: All thanks to your sister and her part-time job, you’ve found the man - your man. 

Warning: NOT FOR MINORS, age gap (late-20s & mid-40s), size difference, single dad (König is depicted without a hood), slight angst, smut, pussydrunk!König, possessive!f!reader, praising, boobs sucking, blowjob, dick slapping, cunnilingus, face sitting, fingering, flatiron position, unprotected sex, confession, etc. Word count: 6k6

NOTE(s):

In Badjhur we trust: better imagination (the scenario was different)

Just my dirty thoughts in the middle of the night :3

I'M TERRIBLY APOLOGIZE FOR ANY GRAMMAR AND LANGUAGE ERRS

His teeth were clenching and his eyes were wandering between the front door and the small, flaming cocoon in his hand, König was indeed panicking. With the phone pressed against his ear, he endlessly paced back and forth in the room, her heavy breathing made him lose his composure.

'Hello?' After a seemingly endless ring, a hoarse yet gentle voice spoke up from the other end of the line, causing relief washed over König.

"H-hey, it's me, I'm...I'm so sorry for calling you this late....." König stammered.

'Not at all, is everything alright?' His anxiety rocketed when the rustling sound of the mattress and your uneasy voice reached his ear. The man felt even more miserable for bothering his nanny at three in the morning like this.

"Jütte has a very high fever, I've tried to....I don't know...." Interrogation or generating briefing has never made him so nervous but in this current situation, his daughter was the only priority.

'I'll be there in a minute, the sweat might make her uncomfortable so you need to change her clothes' You calmly instructed König and patiently waited until he answered before hanging up and quickly stormed out of your flat. 

The firm knocks seemed to pull König out of the abyss, he marched to the door and opened it, maybe you overlooked ringing the bell due to such a rush. You stood there with your quickly combed hair, a spaghetti straps tank top stuck to your frame and a pair of rumpled dark loose jeans that’d definitely just been pulled out of your closet. The thin overshirt jacket with both sleeves rolled up and flops made you look so….accessible. The man jumped aside when he realized he was blocking the entrance.  Swiftly took the steaming little thing into your arms, you handed König the bag of medicine as if telling him to prepare it for her to drink. Both of you didn't say a word to each other, the only audible sound was the spoon hitting the cup on the kitchen island beside the difficult breathing of the cotton ball in your embrace.

After putting the girl in the crib with a chill towel placed on her forehead, you gently walked out to the living room where the man was sitting. His hands were clasped together so hard that knuckles were white, eyes closed as a mountain of man sat immobile on a stool in the kitchen.

"I've already put her to sleep, she’ll be as good as new tomorrow" You gently approached, afraid of startling him.

"Mir geht es gut, I really owe you a lot." König's eyes opened to look at you, wrinkles in his eye sockets appearing as he smiled at you, "How about a drink?" The man stood up and turned towards the cabinet to take out the booze and two cabernet glasses.

"Don't think I should be wasted while at work, sir" You teased.

König just laughed and cocked his head at the empty space next to him. You both started drinking and chatting, he once again apologized for bothering you because the grandparents weren't here to help and you’ve to give him the look so he’d stop his guiltiness.

You understood that this little girl is indeed the light of his life, the sweet angel that god brought to him. König always reminded himself to love and care for his child until the day he no longer existed in this world. But you did not expect the man to open up about his last lover to you, have you managed to put him at ease?

As a Colonel in the military, with such a prestigious title, it's clear that his job is quite typical. Not just sitting at a desk with hundreds of paperwork with confidential stamps on or training rookies, deployments that last no less than a couple weeks and returning with new wounds without dying on the battlefield certainly not simple tasks. But that didn’t mean König lacked regard for his ex-fiancee because whenever possible, he always tried to spend all his time with her. About three years ago, returning home exhausted, König was given a big surprise - an ultrasound photo. Nothing could describe the man's explosive happiness at that moment. The colonel picked her up and twirled her around, unable to wait to marry her.

Baby, a baby 

The first time you met König, besides his broad shoulders and impressive height, you were truly captivated by those mesmerized gray-blue orbs. And to this moment, they seemed to be chosen as the stars’ new home when the visible spark glistened because of recalling beautiful memories.

Ironically, what she said extinguished everything, she did not want to marry him and couldn't take the baby with her either. She wanted to abandon the child, their child, and left him with the baby. The man was devastated, yes, the efforts to comfort and tried to overcome difficult stages when he couldn't accompany her only received scolding in return.

Could not salvage, König agreed to let her go and raise his baby all by himself. He loved his daughter more than anything, the little angel was his only connection with the woman he used to love, naming her Jütte - the bright gem. Sleepless nights to lull the baby to sleep, the confusion and stress that occurred to him when she cried due to hunger. You heard him scoff at mentioning sometimes he was afraid that his rough frame or the deep, husky voice were too intimidating for his little princess but every time her eyes lit up and those small hands firmly held his pinkie, all his fatigue vanished as if they never existed. 

He stopped and whipped his head in the opposite direction. You remained silent but moved a little closer, letting him know you were nearby and that he’s not alone. Even though you've only known each other for more than two weeks, you think you've aroused some inappropriate feelings for König, not sure whether to ignore them or let them grow.

The grandparents were delighted to look after their small sweet girl but they’re over the hill now, couldn’t wipe them out like that so the man decided to send his little angel to kindergarten in the morning and hired a nanny for his family when he's on deployment. That's the reason why you're here, no, your sister was here.

_-_-_-_-_-_

“Sis, please please please please…..please” 

The petite girl kept shaking your thighs no matter how clearly the signs of irreversibility appeared on your face. A small sigh escaped your lips, placing the takeout on the table, then you turned your head to where the constant pleading from. Sound of the wheels rolling on the floor and the squeaking sound as you leaned back against the chair made the girl stop rambling.

"Have you asked for the father’s permission yet?" Continue spinning the fork in between your pointer and middle finger. You raised your eyebrows but your face looked helpless, not disappointed. 

"Of course I did, but ’bout your...." A silly smile that perhaps was supposed to save the awkwardness.

"For fuck sake, I should probably call mom to be sure that you’re my sister?" You huffed with an irritated tone. 

Your sister was in her final year majoring in visual arts and she needed to concentrate fully on her upcoming graduation project. You knew how important this was to her and that your sister was indeed a talent. Of course you supported her wholeheartedly, she’s staying at your house, you cooked every meal, and also picked her up at the campus and drove her to work. You told your dumb sister that she only needed to focus on studying and didn't require any help though she’s begging you non-stop, but instead of just doing the laundry and sweeping your house as a gratitude, she found this babysitting job that’d definitely kill her after the whole-goddamn-day at the university. 

“C’mon sis, I’m beggin’.....beggin’ youuuuuu~ ” God this horrible sound, if it weren't for your sister's best friend performing with electric guitar in a band, you wouldn't have your ears tortured like this every single day. 

Your face scrunched as you carefully considered what your sister put in an offer of a few past seconds. It's not that you wanted to refuse her but - a nanny, not only for a nearly four years old little girl, but also for the endearing old spouses. You all have met a couple times when you came to pick up your sister, sometimes your sister was walking the little girl home after going to the park, other times the grandmother had to bring your sister stuff down to the lobby while she rushed down after your phone call. Interacting with strangers ain’t your forte at all but this baby seemed quite well-behaved and the grandparents were also very pleasant, or simply because your sister was more approachable than you. 

“Guarantee they’ll love your cooking” Your sister gave you a mischievous wink and you shook your head in defeat. 

“The problems ain't that simple, sweet pea” 

"Ahhhhhh, you know better than I do that your job isn't supposed to be down here in the garage, plus none of your tattoos are notable" You kept silent and only gazed at her.

Hated to admit but it’s true, you could’ve just sat in the office and accounted for your garages' finances but you chose the opposite. You loved the pleasant jingling sound of wrenches every time you worked with dusty engines and the feeling of adrenaline when you concentrated on some sophisticated details. Frankly, you highly doubted that the smell of lubricating oil that for sure always lingered on your skin mixed together with your sweat would be welcomed by elders and small kids. Being an owner not only gave you a stable income but also helped you meet plenty of friends with similar pursuits. 

Your sister's truly a minx because long pants would fix that tiny issue perfectly.

“You know I wouldn’t ask you if I had another choice” She gave you those puppy eyes, knowing it wouldn’t work but still could make you find it difficult to say no, “You don’t need to do anything specific, just have to pick the girl at six in the afternoon, make sure she's fed and bathed before nine, that's all" You haven't gone out before ten since forever, “Then prepare breakfast and lunch for the grandparents and remember to check for groceries”. What’s more? The nutrition and seasoning have to be noted down and dinner would definitely be served directly. Man, you'd rather lay on the creeper and drain your arms under some random cars for hours than this job.

"Two months" You held up two fingers as if confirming with your sister.

"Yes, only two months and I'll come rescue you" She postured a superhero pose and the two of you burst out laughing, "Only my ass" She's so lucky you love her.

During the first week, everything went smoothly. Jütte and her grandparents absolutely adored the meals you cooked for them, the grandmother even whispered to not telling your sister that she loved your cooking more than hers didn’t fail to make you laugh at the sweetness. You asked your sister if you were allowed to ride the baby on your bike and she agreed without hesitation, also recalled the squeal and the delighted face that she showed every time your sister mentioned you and your bike. No proof needed because the little girl couldn’t stop her curiosity to swirl around and sing happily with a small helmet settled on her head, making you couldn't help but snigger all along the way.

Your office’s door opened and timid footsteps led behind you as if not wanting to disturb. Slowly sitting up straight, you nodded in approval for the person behind you to continue.

"You got a message, Mama" 

Cracked your neck and motioned for the girl with an orange messy bun to take your place before excusing yourself to your customer. Mama, a nickname given to you not because you're the oldest but you're always thoughtful, treating everyone equally, and always responsible in your doing. Or based on your sister, you're the boss. Massaging the girl's shoulder as a thank you, you grabbed your phone and went straight outside to pick up the call. 

"Get off work early, Mama?" That snarky voice caused you to smirk, glancing over at the boy in the tank top who’s looking at you with teasing eyes. You didn't say anything but held up the phone, showing your sister's name on it, making the boy immediately shut his mouth and went to the hook to bring the jacket and your keys to you with the most respectful gesture. 

‘Hey, sorry for the sudden call’ Your sister's voice rang out through the phone’s speaker

“You need me at the campus?” You asked without breaking eye contact with the younger one in front of you, could totally tell he’s so tense right now due to a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. 

‘Oh no no, the father just texted, he'll be home for a few weeks, you can discuss the work with him after dropping Jütte home, bet she'll be so excited to see her father." Her giggle sounded like an early bird’s chirping, so joyful that it made the dumbhead before your eyes almost turned to a ripe tomato.  

“Loud and clear….speaking of which, you’re free this Saturday, yeah?” You used your casual flat tone, ‘Yep, need to unwind a bit’ then you two said a couple more sentences before hanging up.

The lad dramatically collapsed down on the ground and hugged your leg, thanking you profusely. You just pouted in contempt and shot him a mocking side-eyes, feeling powerful being able to command someone so easily. You retreated your foot and shooed away the heavy bastard with one kick, swiftly put on your coat and went down to the basement to hop on your bike.

Entered the code on the lock and pushed the door in, a pair of massive-size boots with mud caked on the doorstep attracted you and the little girl in your arms.

"Papa?!" The girl called out in excitement and surprise.

Not long after, the man in a plain green t-shirt and cargo pants appeared with a bright smile causing the little one in your arms to jump down and run into the arms lowering only for her. You swore the sight was so alluring that you stood like an idiot, that’s apparently the father and he's a lot more attractive than you expected. Sturdy torso with muscles flexed at any of his motion, bulky arms and broad chest, you couldn't get the view of those thighs but fuck, they better be meaty as your mouth watering of the thought. Some milky scars on the man's masculine face and body, he is a Colonel and a soldier, not so surprised.

"You must be the sister"

König and his daughter turned in sync to look at you, they looked exactly alike. You gave a friendly smile and walked over to greet the man, not being pushy so he wouldn't feel cringe, after all that's not who you are. Having the conversation with him, you realized he’s quite reserved but definitely a gentleman, it’s also undeniable that you’re fascinated by his accent. 

"I won't keep you here all afternoon for now, but do you mind if I ask you to pick up my kleines lamm and spare one more dish?" He spoke shyly, "Hate to admit but I'm a pretty bad cook." 

"No worries, that’s not any difficult task, you just saved my time though" You gave him a toothy smile and König's eyes responded back with clear appreciation.

_-_-_-_-_-_

You two exchanged phone numbers and the following days went as planned, you picked his daughter at kindergarten and rustled up meals in that spacious kitchen for them. The man's family has invited you to stay and dine with them, but you don't want to break the atmosphere and you shouldn’t get attached. Seemed strenuous when you both have an invisible bond because what kind of nanny sleeps in the guest room and makes breakfast for the host?  

You regretted drinking too much liquor last night and this splitting headache wouldn't spare you any mercy, decided to get up early and went to the supermarket to buy some toiletries. Cool water laved your entire body, quickly brushed your teeth before entering the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the two sleepyheads. If someone didn't know better, could assume you're König’s housewife.

The smell of sunny side-up eggs and crispy toast aroused König's nostrils, waking him up. Slowly getting up from the bed, he gently opened the door to his daughter's room to see her still sleeping soundly.

"Good morning, süßer engel" His big hand easily picked her up, the man rubbed his nose against the pretty little one below and whispered.

The baby stirred and frowned, oh my, her angry expression at being woken up made König chuckled delightfully. He carried the little girl to the living room and saw you behind the kitchen island, you raised your head and met his eyes.

"Mornin’...." You said as he sat down on the stool, even your weary grin was so beautiful.

“Good morning” Jütte squealed happily before her father could say anything.

"I'll feed her, here….bon appétit" you placed the plate down in front of the man and moved over the table. König's face flustered as your boobs might spill out of your low-cut shirt and his crotch stiffen immediately when your lower belly fat was exposed as you leaned over to take his daughter from his arms. 

"Have you eaten yet?" The man swallowed hard and pressed his hand against the bulge in his pants, "Already, sir, take your time" Sir, thank god he wasn’t standing, otherwise this’d be super embarrassing.

König thought you’d be the same as your sister, always dynamic and lively, but no, totally the opposite. You’re collected and tender. At first, when he didn't know you well, he thought you were stony and unapproachable, but turned out you’re not. You’re very thoughtful and responsible with your work, especially when you smile, your face lit up differently than usual. You respected König's private space and that of his family, perhaps  keeping a safe distance, but he knew there’s something unspeakable between the two of you. The fleeting touches that you both ignored, the soft glances with a hint of lust, and the attachment between Jütte and you was also unlike your sister or previous babysitters. 

This was the last day you took your sister's place as his nanny, but everything was fast as a blink and König’s still confused with his own feelings. If he made his move, would you agree? Or did you simply only see him as your sister's boss?

The sound of the doorbell interrupted the man's thoughts. He quickly stood up and got to the door so you could peacefully continue until Jütte finished her soup. Unpredictably, König never thought he could see this face again on his doorstep, the face that he once loved so passionately and cruelly left him with his child.

A mellow female voice called the Colonel's name, causing you to turn your head. You were on pins and needles when the man did not move after that call, hugging Jütte tightly and carefully walking towards the open door. There stood a splendid woman with gorgeous glassy eyes and her outfit, although not flashy, was certainly top-shelf. The woman's attention turned to you, or rather to the little girl in your arms. A tear strained down her thin cheekbone before she captured and pressed the baby's head to the crook of her neck, the man didn't stop her and you figured out who this woman was. The little girl stared at the strange woman in bewilderment but didn’t scream or cry, perhaps she felt a sense of familiarity, and when the woman approached König - it was like a missing piece of the puzzle - a complete family.

You stood rooted to the spot, deadpan eyes stuck on them and realized how inessential your presence was. What were you even fantasizing about? The baby, who has never met the woman and wasn’t crying, what right do you have to interfere? Even if the mother did not return, such a person would be worthy of standing next to König, not you, sketchy and way too young. 

Moving the dirty dishes to the sink, you grabbed your keys and briskly exited the apartment. Drawing in shaky breaths, your chest tightened and the bridge of your nose began to sting, your brain couldn’t function proper and your heart sank as the elevator doors closed. You could hear every single piece inside you shattered, not a single sob escaped your lips but the tears refused to cease, you weren't planning on stopping them either, this was your way of releasing. You allowed yourself to be vulnerable, allowed your flesh and bones to work the way it's naturally supposed to, then got over shits later. Verbal abuse was forbidden on your tongue and insulting others just to satisfy your immediate emotions made you feel not so different from a failure. 

It's raining but you're not in the mood to care anymore. Observing the surrounding scenery of the city you lived in, your mother was right, Austria is indeed a divine country.

_-_-_-_-_-_

I'm so sorry, sir, but it’s an urgent call from my teacher so I left Jütte at my sister’s place. I promise to text you sooner next time!!!!

Attached below was the address and one of your garages’ location. König's restlessness was so evident that his colleague was too worried to let him take the wheel. It was impossible to describe how much this mountain of man regretted not catching up with you the last time you two saw each other. Though he tried to ask about you through your sister, the young lady always politely refused; the man came to his conclusion that your sister did not know how the incident happened because strictly speaking, there was nothing binding between you and him. No confession had been spoken yet. 

“Sitrep, Colonel” The man with an erotic face went by the callsign Horangi opened his mouth, it's hard to tell if he's joking or serious.

König answered his sergeant with a heavy exhale, his patience was about to run out. In his mind, there were only your lifeless eyes as you paced past him to the door and the frantic calling of his daughter's mother - the woman who gave birth to his little angel, not the one he used to love. He stood dumbfounded at that time because he couldn't explain why after all this time, she chose to come back to look for him, plus he thought this woman had changed. Well, reality hit hard, when she saw König chasing after you, she started shouting at him out of the blue and accused him of sins from god-knows-where-they-came-from. At least the woman made the right choice to shut her filthy mouth as soon as he shot her a deadly glare, she had no authority to say those words after giving up König and his little girl. As for you, the woman did not dare to split anything, the man knew you're too nonchalant to care about bullshit stuff, but he’d not allow anyone who didn’t know you well to offend you.

2200, too late for any service shops to be opened but your garage lights were still on. Carefully parking the truck in the cul-de-sac right next to, the men walked over to the half-closed sliding door and bent down to enter. At the reception desk was a girl with shiny orange hair who was applying lipstick, her back was facing them but her eyes were looking at two men through the mirror she’s using.

"You are Jütte's father, right?" The girl asked with the typical salespeople’s voice. König nodded and the girl immediately picked up her phone to type something, “Mama will come down in a minute, have a seat” she spoke after receiving the message. Horangi raised an eyebrow at him, his intentions clearly written on his face. Mama, maybe that's your intimate name, but it's way too intimate. König darted his eyes around, your garage was indeed large, divided into two sections. One was for cars and the other was for bikes, which can be known by the spare parts and dozens of license plates hanging on the walls. And he saw you, holding his little daughter as you gingerly took your leave from the office above.

Speechless, the Colonel was speechless, unable to take his eyes off you. A long sleeve turtleneck body dress only reaching mid-thigh, delicate one-lined ink mark on your left calf and a thin henna style tattoo wrapped around your left thigh, looking like a bracelet. There’s a bold cut on your cleavage area, revealing a stiletto tattoo with flowers and a snake wrapped around it, heavy makeup and that red lipstick color surprisingly suits your skin. 

Scheiße

You have tattoos, he didn’t know, tattoos, not just one but many. Your thick thighs, waist still have its curve and your plush hips were certainly stunning. You approached them with a smile, the friendly yet unfamiliar smile you gave him when you first met, you nodded your greeting towards Horangi and he also politely returned the favor.

"Come to uncle" The comrade walked over and picked up the little sleeping girl in his arms because her father was definitely too absorbed in the lady standing in front of him.

As you spoke, König noticed something shiny inside your mouth. Is that...a piercing? You pierced your tongue? Was there anything about you that he hasn't known yet? The man's ears were buzzing, could only tell that you were saying something and his Sergeant nodded in affirmation. 

“Kö, the lady’s talking to you” A male voice snapped him back to the present, whipping his head back and saw you looking straight at him, waiting for his reply.

“She's already full so you don't have to worry, remember to wear warm clothes for her because babies are easily sick due to the season’s first wind, yeah?” You repeated yourself in a flat tone, “Un-Understood” König stuttered and Horrangi cursed in disbelief in his mother tongue.

Gave both of them a firm nod, you turned away and waved your hand so the orange girl would come join you. The plump ass of your jiggling on every step, König swore he could live between them if you let him.

“Pussy” His subordinate spat, body still rocking so as not to wake the baby; “I will knock your ass out” And he immediately bit back, quick as hell. 

“You won’t, this little angel is gonna stay at my place tonight ‘cause you won’t be back soon after walking into the pub a few blocks away at the intersection” König looked at the shorter man, his sass sometimes making the Colonel forget how qualified this guy actually was.

The two boys and a pretty one, your sister, were waving at you and the tangerine girl in front of the pub. It was a bit more crowded on weekends, so your group chose a table in a hidden corner because you hated being bothered by some drunk assholes. The sound of airy jazz along with elect wine, the perfect combination and if you have a partner, just imagine how great it would be. Fortunately, you have many companions, so it’s perfect for you to forget about that silhouette, until your sight was filled by the enormous shoulders and those unmistakable blue pupils. Unwavering stares, neither of you broke away from the tension, causing your group to stop chatting and peeked. König is an attractive man, with his impressive height it wasn't unusual to be surrounded by ladies who acted like starving vultures when they’ve got their eyes on the perfect prey, but he didn't pay any attention to them. Staring, only, at you. A beam of sadness was evident in your eyes, your eyelashes drooping as your lips opened and closed as if wanting to say something but couldn't. It was really miserable when you ran away from the Colonel's apartment, you weren't good at expressing your emotions and he’s too sweet for someone like you. The man's gaze was unreadable, still the same, making you restless.

“Need my car, Mama?” One lad spoke up and you turned your eyes to his direction to answer with a devilish grin as your fingers gesturing a beckoning sign, “Hand it over” 

Fuck this, let's just say you're not sober anymore, and he's here, for you.

While talking to your group, underneath the table, without anyone paying attention, your knees lazily broke apart and revealed the panties covering your sensitive area. The more your hip bones widen, the more the fabric stretches as if it’s about to tear, but there’s already a pair of slutty eyes glued to your heat and undressing you thirstily. Standing up together, you both naturally paced to the front door and disappeared without any traces. 

_-_-_-_-_-_

The door slammed loudly and followed by a large muscular back hitting it, causing the wall to rattle. One of your hands went to the man's throat, pressing him against the wall while the other hastily undoing his belt and pulling down his pants to free his companion.

"Oh, this’s hard already?" You stood on your tiptoes and brought your face close to König's, cooing, his lips tried to capture yours but you quickly squeezed his cock as a warning.

“Don’t” You glared.

And the Colonel thinned his lips into a straight line. He could only nod repeatedly and this strangely satisfied you somehow. Bringing your hands to the hem of his shirt then sliding them inside without caution, the shirt rose up, revealing the man’s delicious tanned skin.

You aggressively squeezed his breasts, their elasticity felt incredible in your small palms. König didn't move but his heavy breathing sounded pitiful, his eyes trailing every inch of your face and soft moans escaped his lips as you sank your teeth into his flesh without mercy. Rustling sound filled the dark space when you descended, trailing wet kisses down the man's sturdy torso and making him sucked in a sharp breath as you ran your tongue along the length of his cock.

“Use your words" You teased the tip of his cock, your piercing pressed against his opening every time you curled your tongue, making the Colonel unable to keep calm, "Or do you want me to stop?"

"NO…no, it's not like that..I'll-ah-I'll speak" König’s eyes flew open and he struggled to form his words whilst receiving a blowjob, you gave him a few kisses and eventually escalated to deepthroating his shaft, “S-scheiße…just li-like that, mein liebling” The man encouraged, his lines were frequently interrupted by low growls and desperate sounds under his throat. 

You hummed and started pushing deeper, Konig’s so big that you’ve to relax your jaw and mind your teeth more to take him whole. Your nose pressed into his soft fuzzy pubes and his cock settled in the back of your throat. Taking your time, steadily dragging your head to swallow and spit his shaft, you placed your tongue under the base of the large cock, gently stimulating him.

“Bitte, oh....f-fuck, seeing those scratches on my skin gonna drives me absolutely mad” Your nails lightly scratching the man's thighs causing him to tilt his head back, still managed thrusting his hip to match your pace. 

The sudden absence of the warmth of your mouth replaced by the painful pleasure coming from below made the Colonel's hand cling to your shoulder. He let out a sob and looked at you in confusion, “Those goddamn hands touched you here, didn't they?” Another slap landed on his dick, “Mein schatz, please…”  König choked out as his head shook vigorously, he got a bit whiny when you put him in your month again. 

Lust eyes stared straight at each other, embarrassment no longer there when the begging and pet names he called you made your cloth pussy soaked in slick. Faster and faster, your speed gradually increased and the man's whines came to a crescendo, almost at his peak. You hollowed your cheeks as his cock twitched wildly inside your mouth but the Colonel suddenly pulled you to your feet and crashed his lips against yours, teeth scraping and König's tongue pressing in as if he wanted to eat you raw.

"You’re doing so good for me, ja? But I don't wanna cum yet, not like that" You pouted, which made him laugh.

“You know what I was thinking?” König pulled the slit of your dress to the sides, causing your tít to be bouncing back and forth in the middle.

Calloused fingers kneaded at your softness, licking and sucking greedily, you weren't sure if he could breathe with his face pressed firmly against your chest like this.

"I can't stop thinking about getting my mouth on these tits….." The man's accent grew heavier due to the eagerness, his hot breath fanning over your skin, your navel as he knelt down and his large hand gripping tightly on your trembling hips. Swiftly threw your leg over his shoulder, the loss of balance made you yelp but of course König couldn't let you fall.

“And havin’ the taste of this pretty cunt of yours” The man spoke as he took the first lick on your wet panties.

“Oh fu-fuck…König” You arched your back, he wasn’t inside you yet but how come could you regain your self-control under the sensation he’s giving you. 

“Ja?…..hmm, you’re so delicious my dove” The Colonel kept running his tongue along your pussy, every word he said interspersed with every flick against your sensitive clit. Clutching tightly to the door, you tried to steady your breathing and grind down to the person below, König was too focused to notice your revenge intention on him. 

“Not so fast, sweetie” You stopped all movements and dragged your legs off him. Bending down to pull the tangled shirt over his head, the man also stood up to peeled the dress off of your body. As soon as the sleeves slipped off, revealing a Maori style tattoo on your upper arm. König stood gaping, mein gott, the man has seen you in a leather jacket on a fine Harley but imagined how delusionally your exposed biceps would be such a sight.

“My couch” You cocked your head and he nodded stupidly, “Sit on the floor and tilt your head back, can you do that, Kö?”

His cock stiffened at your husky voice, Kö, he wanted to hear his name coming out of those beautiful lips of yours even more. You slowly got rid of your last piece of clothing, climbed up on the couch and situated the man's head between your knees. His big hands crawled up to your pubis as you lowered yourself for him, but when his mouth started to open wide and his chin pointed up to reach your slick heat, you paused.

“Don’t do this to me, mein liebling….” König's rough fingertips dug into your meaty thighs, the beautiful fat spilling out between his gaps and you giggled as you spread your labia, hovering over him, “Please, I fucking need that pretty cunt….all over my face” The Colonel gave you his needy eyes, the man moved his lips to nibble your inner thighs, littering several bite marks.

Shaking your head, you gave up and sat down where the pleading kept coming from. König immediately grabbed your ass cheeks and his mouth sucked on your puffy clit like a starved man, "You feel so good.....uhmm, so right on my tongue like this"

He didn't stop moaning, his tongue continued to lick your cunt tirelessly. You were so drowned in pleasure that you couldn't answer the man, could only hold his hair and sway your lower body back and forth that naughty mouth.

König pushed his tongue inside your pussy, it lapped to sweet spots and as an unconscious practice, you pressed your clit against his nose, peered down with watery eyes.

“Ja, ja…you’re too perfect, looking down at me like that” his tongue swirled inside you, causing your folds and thighs squeezed tighter, “Bitte-bitte, keeps pinching those nipples for me”

Dark blue pupils looked up at you like a praying man admiring his goddess as your palms trailing up to your chest and groping your hard nipples. 

“Spank me, König”

He complied.

“Like tha’?”

“Yes…yes, like that, again”

Surely that hand prints wouldn’t disappear anytime soon, you mewled lewdly and the Colonel quickened his pace so he’d get what he needed. 

An endless loop of praises and the frantic stirring of the mouth fixed to your cunt. Inserting two thick fingers inside, his moist lips kept sucking your clit, creating unholy sounds. The man whined even more than you, way too intoxicated and only begging to taste you. And he was contented, you gripped his scalp and grinded down on him, riding out your orgasm with his fist.

König carefully held you as he sat up, you no longer had any strength left so resting your chin on the soft cushion, back turned to him. Afresh, an upside down stingray, its fins spreaded across your lower back and tail curled and stopped right between of your scapula bones.

"Are there any places else on your body that I haven't discovered yet, Zucker?" You gave him a breathy cackle.

The man placed a comforting kiss on your shoulder blade before wrapping his bulky arm around your waist and leaning your back against his body, thighs on thighs, he sat you down on his shaft. You both hissed out when your gummy walls wrapped perfectly around his length, it was unbelievable how well you could fit him, his dick was so big it made your stomach bulge. Brows pulling in as you're forced to confront your lungs as they fight for air, calloused palm held on your tit, his pelvis started bucking lazily for you to get used to his size. 

“Fu-fucking god Kö, your….” Couldn’t finish your sentence, claws pinned on his bicep and mouth flew open, the man leaned down and captured your lips.

Your neck was killing you in this position but there ain’t no other methods to block your screams as his tip kissed your womb roughly. König reached down to massage your swollen clit, he knew this was beyond your limits but the way you arched your back to receive him made the man want to spill his seed inside you more than ever. 

“I’m nearly…there, schatz” the Colonel growled lowly, teeth gnawed at your earlobe, “Cum with me, baby….bitte, bitte, bitte” chantings non-stop, he’s desperately crying out for your arousal and that beautiful mewls to escaped your stubborn mouth. 

Neither of you could last much longer, drool running down your neck as you pulled away from König to let out a silent scream. Your stomach stiffened as your walls clenched around the man's cock, some last few strokes before his tepid sperm flooded inside. König released so much that when he pulled away, the seed was already flowing out of your cunt, looking like honey spilling out of an eye-catching flower.

Falling on the floor, you collided on top of him and sniggered at his satisfied face. The man still stared at your ceiling, your lids were half closed as his fingers gently combed your smooth locks.

"I'm sorry for not coming to you sooner, liebling"

You understood what he’s talking about. Rolling over, you took his hand and brought it to your lips, placing soothing smooches on the calluses.

"I'm sorry for leaving" König shook his head, "We’re both silly, so let it go, Jütte said I’m not allowed to go home if you’re not coming with me" You giggled and so did he. Let’s considered that as make-up sex, then. 

Taglist: @shadowlali , @ghostlythots

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Book 7: The Ruler of the Abyss – Chapter 3 (Part 3)

Following is part 3 of my translation of Chapter 3 of Book 7: The Ruler of the Abyss. This part contains episodes 7-51 to 7-55. This concludes chapter 3.

Main storyline spoilers after the cut!!

Episode 7-51

Grim: What the!? The floor gave way behind us! T-There’s nowhere else we can run to….! S-Somebooodyyyyy!!!!

???: Prefect! Grim!

Grim: Eep! You’re that guy from Diasomnia….

Silver: We’ll talk later! Both of you, grab onto me. Hurry! Those I’ve met before, and those I’ll meet someday…. Come, and let us dream the same dream.

Yuu: We’re…. Flying!

Grim: Waaaaaah!! Where’s the groouuuund!!

Silver: Damn it….! I can’t control it….! Hold on to me! Tightly!

Grim: Aaaugh! If you keep squeezin’ me like that all my insides are gonna pop out!!

Silver: Please, just bear with it! If we get separated, there’s no guarantee you’ll make it!

Grim: Waaaaaaaaah!

Grim: …..aaaaAAAAH!!

Silver: O Winds! ……Argh…. Are you two okay?

Grim: Ugh…. My eyes are still spinnin’.

Yuu: I’m so dizzy I can’t even get up….

Silver: Easy now. Don’t stand up too fast. At any rate, I’m glad you don’t appear to be injured.

Grim: W-Where is this place? I feel like I’ve seen it before… Ah! Is this… Diasomnia!?

Silver: No…. This isn’t the real Diasomnia. This is the Diasomnia “within someone’s dreams”. It’s still too soon to relax, but it appears we were able to shake off that “Darkness” from earlier.

Grim: “Darkness”?.... You mean that wiggly black stuff?

Silver: Yes. It appears in everyone’s dreams, and I’ve encountered it many times before… If those things ensnare you in their grasp, they’ll drag you down into an even deeper sleep. Don't let your guard down.

Yuu: I wonder if Mickey’s okay…

Silver: “Darkness” eroding away dreams and a dream breaking down on its own are two different things. When the dreamer wakes up in real life, the dream breaks down… Just like what happened with that room we were in. In other words, he simply woke up and returned to reality. You don’t need to worry. Ah, before I forget… You said his name was Mickey? I feel like I…. met him once before… in a dream.

Mickey: While you were gone, I found a stranger in my dream room. It was a boy with silver hair and eyes the strangest color.

Yuu: Wait, so the silver haired boy that Mickey mentioned before was….!

Silver: However… It’s strange. I’m only supposed to be able to cross into the dreams of those I have some sort of connection with. And the fact that he even remembered meeting me in a dream is also strange, in and of itself….

Episode 7-52

Grim: So how’d you end up in that room anyways?

Silver: I saw a bird in my dream that emitted the most unusual, rainbow-colored light. And when I followed that bird and crossed into the dream… I arrived in that room.

Yuu: What do you mean you “crossed into the dream”?

Silver: My unique magic, “Meet in a Dream”, allows me to cross between the dreams that other people are dreaming. What I pass through along the way is that sky-like space we were just in…. I call it the “Corridor of Dreams”.

Grim: What, you can enter peoples’ dreams!? Holy crap! That’s awesome magic! So if you go into the heads of the school teachers, you could peep what’s gonna be on the next test!?

Silver: It’s difficult to explain, but my magic isn’t for entering people’s minds…. It’s for… How should I put this… I enter people’s dreams, erm, I mean… I guess you could say, what they see in their hearts…. Or you could even say, the world of imagination borne from someone’s memories and desires…. At any rate, it’s that kind of world. I won’t know what someone’s dreaming until I cross over. So even if I was able to cross over into one of the professor’s dreams, I doubt I’d be able to find out what kind of test questions they have in mind. To be honest with you, I myself still don’t fully grasp all the idiosyncrasies of dreams and my unique magic. Dreams are nebulous things to begin with, different for each person…. And I often forget what happened within the dreams by the time I wake up.

Grim: What the heck… Your magic’s friggin’ useless, dude.

Silver: I’m sorry I couldn’t meet your expectations. As you say, “Meet in a Dream” has never been all that useful to me. I can only use it when I’m asleep, and I also have to be cognizant that I’m within a dream.

Grim: So that means… Our bodies really must be still asleep at the party venue in Diasomnia, right?

Silver: Yes, most likely. Due to…. Lord Malleus’s magic. Once I realized I was dreaming, I tried countless times to wake myself up. But… I haven’t had any luck getting out of the dream world.

Grim: Wait, there’s a way to wake ourselves up? How!?

Silver: If you receive a big shock - either in the dream or in the real world - you can force yourself awake. And so when I arrived in the dream world…. I tried banging my head against a bunch of different things and punching myself…. But I don’t think my body stirred one bit.

Yuu: (S-So he was just beating himself up, basically…)

Silver: That we’ve been cast into such a deep sleep shows just how powerful Lord Malleus’s spell is… Lord Malleus… Why would you do such a thing…

Malleus: I WILL NOT LOSE YOU!!

Silver: Even if you do something like this, Father is….. And you yourself must…

Grim: Come on, isn’t there any other way? I don’t wanna be lyin’ around sleepin’ on the floor forever!

Silver: My fath- I mean, Lilia Senpai might know a way we can get out.

Grim: Oh, yeah. Isn’t he a fae who’s lived for a reeeeally long time? Maybe he does know somethin’.

Silver: Above all, he’s someone who’s been close to Lord Malleus since he was young.

Grim: ‘Kay, then hurry up and use your magic so we can cross into Lilia’s dreams!

Silver: My apologies, but I… can’t.

Grim: Whaaaat?!

Silver: Although “Meet in a Dream” allows me to cross over into other people’s dreams… I can’t specify whose dream I cross into. But it is easy for me to enter the dreams of those I’m close to…

Yuu: So, whoever’s dream we’re in now is probably someone you know pretty well?

Grim: Wait a sec… But doesn’t that mean we could be inside Lilia’s dream right now!?

Silver: I’m still not sure. But I’ll know whose dream this is as soon as I see it. At any rate, let’s go ahead and check out the dorm.

Diasomnia Dorm – Hallway

???: IS THIS WHERE YOU’VE BEEN THIS WHOLE TIME, SILVER!? I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU!!!

Silver: ...So this was your dream, Sebek.

Grim: Huh! It wasn’t Lilia’s dream, but this guy’s? How can ya tell?

Silver: There’s a peculiar light that surrounds the dreamer. Are you two not able to see it?

Sebek: What nonsense are you blubbering now! Are you still half-asleep? Hm? Those two behind you, aren’t they from Ramshackle….

Silver: Yes, it’s Grim and the prefect.

Sebek: Hmph. The underachievers from Class A, is it. All of Diasomnia shall be gathering together today for a very important celebration, and it shall be a grand party. You best not get in our way, beast! And human!

Silver: A celebration…? For what?

Sebek: What? You really are still half-asleep, aren’t you, you twit? We’re holding a pep rally of sorts for Lord Malleus and Sir Lilia, to inspirit them for their upcoming internships!

Silver: What…

Sebek: Certainly, ‘tis a shame we shan’t see much of the young Lord and Sir Lilia come next term… But knowing them, doubtless they’ll secure the most impressive grades out of anyone at their internship locations and return victorious! Now then, the festivities shall begin momentarily. Come with me at once, Silver! WE MUSTN’T KEEP THE YOUNG LORD AND THE OTHERS WAITING!!!

Silver: Wha- Oi, Sebek! Just wait a second…!

(Sebek grabs Silver and they walk off)

Grim: Silver got dragged away! We better go follow ‘em, henchman!

Chapter 7-53

Sebek: Young Lord! Sir Lilia! I have returned with Silver!

Malleus: You finally made it. We’ve been waiting.

Lilia: Haha. Your hair looks like a bird’s nest and your hat’s all crooked. Were you out taking a nap somewhere, Silver?

Silver: L-Lord Malleus…. Father…

Malleus: What’s this? Is that Grim and the Child of Man I spy? Have you come to wish us well on our internships? Heh heh…. We’ve got plenty of refreshments available. Please enjoy yourselves to your hearts’ content.

Yuu: So it’s not a going away party, it’s like a pep rally?

Grim: Huh? But I thought Lilia was droppin’ out ‘cause he couldn’t use his magic anymore?

Malleus: Not able to use his magic anymore? Drop out? ….You’re referring to Lilia?

Lilia: What in the world are you going on about? You must have me confused with someone else.

Sebek: Y- ….You wretched beast! Do not say such portentous things!!!! Sir Lilia is the last person on this planet who would do that!!!!

Grim: Shut up!! Stop yellin’ in my ear!! Ah, wait that’s right. This is just a dream world, so…. Huh? Huuh? Henchman, we’re inside a dream right now, right? Or was the place we were at before a dream? Ugh, I have no idea what’s goin’ on anymore.

Malleus: This is but a dream? Ha ha, what a silly thing to say. It sounds like the two of you are still half-asleep, as well. Did you accompany Silver in his catnap? Once we third years advance to the next grade, we’ll be setting off for our internships. I’m to go take part in an archaeological investigation being held in the Land of Red Dragons, and Lilia will be going to study at a company that creates magical assistive devices, located in the Kingdom of Heroes.

Silver: Magical assistive devices…. You mean like medical aids?

Lilia: Indeed. I know there are many in Briar Valley who abhor modern technology… but I’m sure if I were to bring something like that back home with me, there’s plenty good it could do.

Sebek: As expected of Sir Lilia. He’s set his gaze on the future of Briar Valley!

Silver: Fath- ….Lilia Senpai. So are you going to return to the valley… to our home in the forest?

Lilia: Hm? Yes, my plan was to go back home as long as I make it through our exit exams all right… Why do you ask? Briar Valley is our homeland. And that house in the forest we lived in together, that’s where I’ll be spending the rest of my days.

Silver: …….

Lilia: What’s the matter, Silver? Your face is so pale, like you’re having a bad dream or something. Don’t push yourself too hard. Just go back to your room and get some rest.

Silver …………. You’re exactly right, Lilia Senpai. This is… All of this is just a bad dream. Just some convenient little dream that’s trying to keep us trapped in our sleep.

Everyone: Huh?

Sebek: Oi, Silver! Cease with your tasteless jokes! This is supposed to be a celebration!

Silver: Oh, how I wish I were joking….!

Sebek: What? What are you blathering about now? Are you seriously still half-asleep, you dolt!?

Silver: You have to remember, Sebek! Remember what happened before you fell asleep!

Sebek: Before I… fell asleep?

Silver: Lilia Senpai exhausted all his magic and was going to drop out of school before everyone left for their internships… He was planning to move to the Land of Red Dragons. And on the night of his going away party, with the entire school in attendance… Lord Malleus went mad…. We tried stopping him, but he was far too powerful…. And everyone there was cast into a deep sleep.

Sebek: Wh-…What… What are you saying!? You claim the young Lord lost his composure!? Our Lord is the very picture of noble serenity! It’s unfathomable he would do such a thing!

Malleus: Silver. It sounds like you really did have quite the terrible dream. That’s enough. If you stop now, I’ll forgive your impudence.

Lilia: Malleus is right. Besides, more than anything, there’s no way I would ever run off and leave you behind. There’s nothing to worry about. After you graduate, we’ll go and live together in our home in the forest once again. We’ll be together forever… right?

Silver: …..If that’s what the “real” you had wanted, then I’d have liked to stay by your side forever. But that’s… that’s not true! This world, and you… Everything here is a sham!

Lilia: Silver, what on earth are you….

(Thunder booms)

Everyone: !!!

Malleus: I will not tolerate any more of this nonsense, Silver. Don’t tell me… You’ve *”awoken”? Why must you try and disrupt this peaceful place. All of your dreams can come true here…

Silver: Awoken…. Wha-, Lord Malleus!? Are you…. Are you monitoring everyone’s dreams!? And interfering with them?!

Malleus: Monitoring? Interfering? Heh heh…. Don’t be absurd. Governance is only a natural part of a king’s duties, is it not? I’m watching over everyone, making sure you fairytale heroes don’t find yourselves ensnared in any nightmares… Making sure you’ll continue to dream these wonderful dreams for all eternity!

Silver: ….Please, Lord Malleus! I beg of you, return to your senses! My father would never wish for something like this!

(thunder booms)

Grim: Ack!

Malleus: Did you not hear me? I said I will not tolerate any more of your foolishness, Silver.

Grim: S-Silver! The guy’s seein’ red. You better just hurry up and say you’re sorry….

Silver: *breathes in, breathes out* Please forgive me, my Lord. But if I’m going to get you to return to your senses… Then I don’t have any other choice!

Lilia: Silver!? Just what are you intending to do?!

Sebek: You cur! You dare raise your weapon against our Lord… Have you lost your damn mind!? Please get back, Sire! I shall handle this!!!

*The verb さめる (to wake up) can be written either 覚める (to wake up (from sleep)), or 醒める (to wake up (from a stupor), to come to one’s senses), and Malleus is using the latter version.

Episode 7-54

Silver: Forgive me, Sebek!

Sebek: Guwaaah!??

Silver: Father! Please draw back. Lord Malleus isn’t in his right mind!

Sebek: M-My Lord…. Please… Please quell your raging heart!

Malleus: What are you so frightened of? A wondrous future lies before you. Now, give me your hand. Heh, heh heh…. Ah ha ha ha ha!

Malleus:  If you surrender yourselves to sleep, even a thousand years can pass in the blink of an eye.

Sebek: Augh….! Wha- What are these… these memories…! Lord Malleus, he…. No, that’s... That’s impossible….?

Silver: ! Do you remember what happened, Sebek?

Sebek: Silver, what is the meaning of this? What is going on here…?

Silver: There's no time to explain. Get up!

Sebek: But…!

Malleus: Aah… Have you “awoken” as well, Sebek? What a pity. If you’d only given yourself up to that delectable slumber, you could’ve savored happiness for all eternity. I’ll put you all to sleep one more time… Yes, into an even deeper slumber!

Sebek: Ah…A-….. Lord Malleus…!

Grim: Eep! That wriggly black stuff we saw in Mickey’s room came back!

Silver: Take up your weapon, Sebek!

Sebek: Damn it…!

Episode 7-55

Sebek: Argh! Just what are these things? Get back, don’t touch me!!

Grim: Waaaah! The gooey stuff’s swallowin’ me up!!

Yuu: I’m getting dragged into the “darkness”!

Silver: We’re surrounded! ….We’ve only got one shot at getting out of this. Everyone, grab my hands!

Sebek:  Grrr… Who in their right mind would take your hand!!

Silver: Now is not the time to be stubborn, Sebek! Come on, hurry!

Sebek: Damn it…!

Malleus: Now… Sleep once more for me. Yes, in an even deeper…. even darker place this time. Heh heh heh…. Ah ha ha haha ha!

Silver: (It’s so dark, so cold, so sad…. At this rate, we’ll all be engulfed by the “darkness”. .....This light… This auroral light….. Father… Please, give me strength! Those I’ve met before, and those I’ll meet someday…. Come, and let us dream the same dream!)

Sebek: ….Ugh…. This place is…?

Yuu: We’re in the middle of a forest?

Grim: Uuughh… Did we get away from that yucky wriggly stuff?

Silver: It appears so… I’m still not sure whose dream we crossed into, however…

Sebek: I… I defied the young Lord… *sniffle* Oh, what have I done! I can’t believe this!

Silver: You can feel bad about it later. Right now, we need to find someplace we can rest and sort out what’s going on. Hm? This forest, and the smell of the wind… Could this be…

(something heavy lands nearby and the area fills with smoke)

Silver: Ah! Get down!!

Grim / Sebek: Uwaah?!

Silver: Projectiles?! Where are they coming from?

Strange-looking Soldier A: Gyagyagya! Uumanu!

Strange-looking Soldier B: Gigiiiiii!!

Sebek: W-What are these things!?

Strange-looking Soldier C: Kiii! Aarijaa!

Strange-looking Soldiers: Garururu! Kyakyakyaa!

Grim: Ack!? They’re squeezin’ meee!

Strange-looking Soldier B: Guaa! Gyagya! Firumee!

Strange-looking Soldier A: Gyaou! Gwaruru! Shyaa!

Sebek: Y-You say we’re the “iron ones”? No, we are no such thing!

Grim: Can you understand what these guys are sayin’, Sebek!?

Strange-looking Soldiers C: Kishyaaa! Garuru! Gurururu!

Sebek: I do not lie! We are students, and we’re….!

(a bat screeches, and then a bunch of bats fly across the screen)

Grim/Silver/Sebek: Waaaah!/ Uwaah!? / What on-!?

Strange-looking Soldiers: Gyaou! / Kikiii!

???: What’s with all the ruckus, you lot?

Strange-looking Soldier A: Guaa! Gyagyaa…

Silver: !?

???: Hmph… You fools, look at the energy that envelops them. They have been blessed by the followers of the night. They're probably not the Iron Ones.

Silver: A…. blessing? Just who are you….?

???: ….However, that doesn’t change the fact that this is all very suspicious.

Sebek: T-That magical stone weapon….!?

Everyone: !!??

???: Silence, human. Do not speak unless you’re spoken to.

Silver: ….!!

Strange-looking Soldier: Who are you? Spit it out. Now. And you better not lie to me, lest you wish for me to dirty my blade.

Part 1

Part 2

#twst silver #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia #twst jp #twst spoilers #twisted wonderland #ruler of the abyss #lilia vanrouge

[pandagyaru]

This isn't 2023 or whatever you just said

Deadpool x 2009 Gender neutral reader

Early 2000s au with my favorite man with a very big uh

Personality.... yeah personality lolz

Anyways my thought process is like, what if dp goes back in time on accident and needs to find out what year it is. Like 2009 or something. But he meets the prettiest little human, aka you dollies!

P.s: Your apartment is like all rooms in one, kinda like dps in the movie, except your bathroom is private, LMAO.

P.p.s: the reader is very no descriptive. Besides the fact they wear glasses!

A swirling noise fills the dark void of your open space apartment. You sit up in bed and slide your sleeping mask up on your forehead. A purple and orange hole in the abyss that is your living room. You blink the eye crusties and boogers away as you stare at it, blinking like a frog as you get used to the strange light. A red and black clad body shoots through the portal, landing on your comforter.

"WHAT THE FUCK" You shout, crawling up to your headboard. You hurry and flick on your bedside lamp to get a good look at the dead body? You don't know if the person is dead or not, but God, you didn't wanna find out. It suddenly sits up with a gasp, its head snapping towards you. It points at you.

"YOU! WHERE AM I?" The voice is masculine, so you're assuming it's a guy. I mean, you're hoping what you're assuming is right. It may be 2009, but you'd hate to misgender this stranger in your bed.

"Uh, you're in my apartment. May I ask where the fuck you came from?" You ask, leaning over and grabbing your glasses of your nightstand, slipping them on your face.

"Right, your apartment. I came from a mansion, not mine. Like a friends mansion" He explains, looking around at all your "ancient" looking belongings. "Say is it 2023?"

"Huh? 2023? No, it's 2009. Are you okay? Did you hit your head on my bed post? Like, I understand you like spawned in my apartment, but I dont think time travel is possible. doctor who" you joke, nudging your foot at him. His head whips to you.

"2009?" He asks. You nod and pull out your iPhone 3G, turning it on and showing him the date.

"Yeah. It's also 3 am. So, if you're staying, my couch pulls out into a bed. I do have to warn you, I have work at like 9 am" You tell him, getting up incase you have to pull the couch bed out. He looks over at your couch and then back at you.

"Or we could share this cozy ass bed you got yourself here." He flirts, leaning back on your bed and trying to seem seductive. You blush.

"I'll pull out the couch" you mutter, speed walking over to the couch. You bend over to grip the metal bars under the couch cushions.

"You're supposed to remove the cushions' first sugar butt" He says, standing up and walking over to you. Your face feels hot at the petname. "Its like a sleepover! All we need is movies and snacks"

"I have work, remember?" You state, picking up and throwing the couch cushions. The bed sliding out and setting itself down on the hardwood floor. He looks over at you.

"Yeah, at 9am. When did you go to bed?" He asks. You look over at him.

"Like 8pm. I was exhausted today"

"So you've had 7 hours of sleep. If we watch one movie, you'll get like 5 more hours. You'll be fine" He says, plopping his leather clad fat ass (I just had to specify that btw) on the couch bed. You think it over. You sigh.

"Fine, but we're watching catwoman. Halle Berry is gorgeous in that movie" You say, walking over to your DVD rack. You crouch down to read all the titles of movies you have. You find the movie you want and peek over your TV stand to your DVD player. You put the movie in. "Have you ever seen this movie?" You ask, walking back over to thr couch bed. Deadpool wades (HA GET IT?) over his response. The truth is he hasn't seen it in fucking forever.

"I have, but it's been a while," He answers.

"Oh yeah how long? I watched it the other day"

"About 15 years. Give or take"

"It came out 5 years ago..."

"Right right its 2009"

"Wait so you're actually from the future? Holy shit. What's life like?" You jump up and grab his shoulders.

"Technology is definitely better then what you have in this place. I'll tell ya that for free. God your phone is God awful" He jokes, smashing his hand on your face.

"Hey, that's the latest phone! I'm cool!" You shout, grabbing his wrist, trying to pull his hand off your face. He laughs. "I know we just met. But would you be able to show me what 2023 looks like?" You ask, looking into the whites of his mask.

"Uh, i don't know if it transports more then one person. But I could try." He mutters, watching the way your eyes light up.

The night ended with you falling asleep on him halfway through the movie.

LOVE YA!

#x male reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #deadpool imagine #deadpool x reader #deadpool headcanon #deadpool #deadpool x male reader #deadpool x you #Spotify

[damnation-if]

I just want to say, as a certified monster fucker, I'm already in love with your story hahaaa <3 I'm glad we're getting more adult stories and the themes in this one are so intriguing, can't wait for the rest ! Alsooo, I really liked the way you describe things? I do not know how to explain it haha but I could easily visualize what was happening and the general atmosphere you're going for and I thought that was neat :^)

thank you so much for your kind words!! i truly appreciate them and i'm so glad the descriptions were to your liking! i have at least some level of aphantasia, so i'm always worried that i'm not describing things enough haha... glad that doesn't seem to be the case!

i was actually talking to my friends just yesterday about how there's relatively few Creacher-y ROs around... so for whatever reason, i guess because it's on my mind, i thought i'd take a bit of time/space here to mention all of the Monsterfucker Approved (TM) ROs that i could come up with, in case anyone else might be interested. this list isn't meant to be exhaustive (in case i miss anyone) as sadly i am yet to become all-seeing and all-knowing 😔

Creacher (Alien)

Rhaxa and Imxa from Project Hadea by my beloved @nyehilismwriting. spikey, scaley, bitey, etc. 👌i also love and appreciate the attention to detail put into worldbuilding for the different ways their species communicates and thinks and so on, showing the culture gaps between them and humans. quality buggies!

Creacher (Eldritch)

Roach from The Passenger... the mc is also an eldritch creacher in this one, which may add or subtract to the enjoyment for various different people lol

Sysba from Attollo; i also think this game in general is pretty monster friendly, with a bunch of monstrous side characters and so forth. the cool kind of neo-gothic vibes give it a feeling a bit akin to a cyberpunk Penny Dreadful... it's about as Monsterfucker as cyberpunk gets i think!

Beacon from Stygian: The Abyssal Lighthouse by my good friend @salty-stories. this one is probably the most Lovecraftian of the eldritch creachers i think, heavy Call of Cthulhu vibes. it's still in progress but i'm personally willing to wait haha

Creacher (Parahuman)

Lorelei and The Other from The Golden Harp; pirates and sirens and mermaids, oh my!

Danny and Isla from When It Hungers by the wonderful @roast-ifs ... the game is still on hiatus but it still lives rent-free in my head always... the monster mcs are So *chef's kiss*

Oisein from The Nameless; due to the sheevra mc there's a Lot of really cool exploration of the boundaries of humanity and stuff like that... we love a "nonhumans shouldn't be able to feel/do this" story... we love it a Normal amount for sure.

Creacher (Indefinable)

Trace from Greenwarden by @fiddles-ifs; an iconique creacher... the game itself also has excellent kind of Appalachian gothic/supernatural vibes and a dark undercurrent of Lurking Monster Foreboding.

Games with Applicably Creacher-esque Vibes

Virtue's End by my beloved friend dani... the ROs might be human, but the mc most certainly is not<3 dark fantasy and sumptuous Monster vibes, what more can you ask?

anything by the extremely talented @thirtybythirty (links to their games in their pinned post). everything they write has a compelling undercurrent of... eldritch existentialism. perhaps the creacher is in fact the Narrative... or maybe the humans were the creachers all along...

the fabulous OFNA: Birds of a Feather - it has the perfect combination of things Not Quite Human and Not Quite Right to create a rich and ominous atmosphere, well-worth playing even though everyone is Technically human lmfao

anyway sorry for rambling on and i'm sure there's a bunch i have missed but. i do feel like it's worth giving praise where it's due for games and writers that we appreciate! thank you again for your kind message (and for giving me a chance to talk about this a bit lol)

#what does the chaos mirror see #glucosify #long post. #passing these notes out at the monthly monsterfucker conference #sorry to put trace in their own category but. also i feel like they'd have it no other way lmfao #avoiding putting my games on here like a good boi... especially the ones i haven't written yet #there's also sort of monster-adjacent things like leftski-if's orcs and werewolves but #there sort of opens up a rabbithole once you get into. Nontypical Humanoids #like i had this problem with a lot of demon!ROs as well they're kind of. Mostly Human #like don't get me wrong i enjoyed keeper of the sun and moon for example but the cambions and nephilim are not. Particularly Inhuman #however obviously my categorisations are very arbitrary and i'm not. gatekeeping monsters XD just for the sake of this post not being longe

[bouncybongfairy]

Everyone Bleeds Red

Darth Vader x Fem Reader

Summary: After Darth Vader recruited your mother as a culinarian for the Death Star, you are now forced to call this your new home. One night you can't take being locked in your sleeping quarters any longer. You sneak out and find Vader in his Bacta tank, in a form you didn't know you would ever see.

Word Count: 2k+

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It was tiring, staring out the window panel, into never ending space. You would make different constellations out of stars you saw or over-examined a large rock that was floating. Shifting on your feet once you could no longer dissociate at command and all the pain in your body became unbearable all at once. The leather and latex of your suit feel completely suffocating and uncomfortable. You could never stand there as long as he could. You’d seen him go 12 hours of just staring into the abyss without moving a muscle. So still that you could barely tell he was breathing. Even when the ship would sway a bit, he maintained his rigid posture. When you could no longer take the void, you would go to your sleeping quarters. You would peel the layers of your clothes off one by one. Every time you walked into that room, you would admire how intricate the designs were. Every room on the ship was so dull, everything was gray and black. Even with colors so dark, the fluorescent lights were blinding at times. Not in your space though, the walls were a pale yellow and had foxtails and flowers hand-painted onto the walls. Sometimes when you couldn’t sleep you would count the blades of grass, admiring the paint strokes. Wondering what happened to the artist who sat where you were with a brush. 

The roof was baby blue and like the walls had hand-painted clouds. They looked so realistic that you would get the urge to reach out to see if they were fluffy or not. The carpet matches the color of the painted grass so perfectly. One would have to look extremely hard to see the seam of where the wall and carpet connected. There was a painted mural of a waterfall that had plexiglass over it, water flowed over this glass to create the illusion that it was a real waterfall. Under this glass was a 3ft by 3ft pond that was filled with different stones. When the water would hit these, it created an authentic sound of water running. You were grateful for this because the ship was so quiet, it would hurt your ears sometimes. Your bed was circular and had a lace canopy that hung over it. The headboard was made from cream-colored marble and had carvings of different flowers. The bedding was lavender, the sheets and pillowcases were silk but the main duvet was fur. So soft that you can’t feel it against your skin. The lighting was yellow-toned, less harsh on your eyes than the bright fluorescent bulbs around the ship. Roses were always placed around the room, so many that the room was permeated with their scent. 

You were taken from your home planet of Coruscant, you didn’t know why but you were grateful. Being born on that smog-covered planet was a life sentence. Nobody who’s born there ever makes it out. It was like the planet was the Bermuda triangle, people came here in hopes of making it big with their criminal enterprise. Once you’re there long enough, you’re forgotten. There’s no communication signal until you’re off the planet which creates such a suffocating isolation it’s comparable to prison. Nonetheless, you were happy, you lived with your mother and operated a bakery. Even though it was a humble life, it was better than what most people had and your mother always reminded you of that. Vader completely tours through your city in search of Obi-Wan. You’d never seen such mass chaos and hysteria in your life. Stormtroopers seemed to enjoy such misery and horror. Sometimes when walking through the halls you would lose your breath when they came around the corner. Your mother and you were hidden in the back room of the bakery. You both could hear the shouting of stormtroopers, 

“This is the 501st Legion, come out with your hands up now !” one of them shouted. Your mother put her hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. 

“This is your last formal warning. Come out with your hands NOW !” You were commanded.

Tears were running down your face as you held your hand over your mothers. The room went quiet, you could no longer hear the clanking of their uniforms. All you could hear was the sound of boots hitting the ground. The silence was deafening and created such an eerie energy. After what felt like hours, the metal door of the back freezer was ripped off the wall and against what was the service counter. You screamed so loudly that you felt your mother’s hand vibrate against your cheeks. There he was in all his glory, when you first laid eyes on him he looked like a monster. Wearing all black, standing so tall, and the blood was splattered on his mask. His lightsaber was so close, you could feel the heat coming off it. He was accompanied by another individual who was in a gray uniform, unlike the stormtroopers. Vader whispered something to him that you didn’t quite hear. 

“Lord Vader requests that you serve the 501st Legion by working as a culinarian aboard our ship,” the gentleman said to your mother. 

“Well, thank you, my lord, May I bring my daughter, s-she helps me in all my operations,” your mother said; you’d never heard her voice so shaky and raw. 

“Very well, come with me,” he said. 

That was when we followed Vader and his army to the Death Star. Even though you were already of age, your mother covered your eyes. You could only see your feet and a bit of the ground in front of you. As you walked, you could smell copper in the air along with smoke. You could hear the sounds of people groaning and debris caving in on itself. Once you were about to board the ship, you looked up slightly and saw a severed hand on the ground. Curiosity killed the cat and you wish you’d never looked up. What scared you even more was the fact that nobody seemed to react to anything. Like there wasn’t a limit on how much gore their eyes could absorb. There was a knock at the door that pulled you back to reality. The automatic doors opened and revealed your mother. You were extremely grateful that you still got to see your mother every day. She had a different outlook on being aboard than you did. She was happy, we were finally safe, had amazing living conditions, and were together. Whenever you were feeling anxious she would remind you to count your blessings. Even though you knew she meant well with what she was saying, it could come off as dismissive at times. She set your dinner tray down and sat on your bed with you. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks knowingly. 

“Same as always,” you replied. 

“Let’s talk about it,” your mother pried gently. 

“There is really nothing to talk about, not about anything that I haven’t said before,” you said. 

“Are you just feeling closed in again?” she asked. 

“Again? I always feel closed in. I have no idea what we're even doing here. I feel silly because I always dreamed of a room like this, being surrounded by such elegance. Now, I just wish we had our shop and old living space. Yeah it was homely but at least it was purposeful,” you said. 

“Oh dear, It saddens me that you’re so focused on the negative. I know we had a comfortable life on Culinarian but now we have access to the finest of the galaxy. Lord Vader spared us, he spared you. He could have left you without me or just killed both of us. He didn’t and I don’t think it would be wise of you to be questioning why,” she said, standing up and giving you a kiss on top of your head. 

Shortly after your mother left, leaving you with a bowl of soup and bread. You weren’t feeling hungry these days, you missed your home planet. Your school and friends; there was a clothing shop right across from the bakery and would always trade goods with each other. It was the simple things like the feeling of excitement when your mom comes home with a basket of new clothes or shoes. The thrill of sneaking out with friends to go to different cantinas. Now all you did was accompany Lord Vader anywhere he chose to go which normally was starting to space. Sometimes you thought about just asking him what he was thinking about. Or why he was so sad and angry but never did. You’d seen him do horrible things, destroy part of the ship over the smallest of things. Kill entire villages simply for not having what he is looking for. He was a monster, ruthless and impatient; so much so that most of the time he didn’t realize what he did until after it was done. There was one incident in particular that made you question his morality. You were standing with him at the window panel. You had been there for 10 hours and stubbornly trying to stand there longer than he could; like some kind of endurance game. Once you were so overstimulated that you thought you might cry, you turned to walk away. That was when Vader reached and grabbed your wrist really tight, for a second you thought you were in trouble somehow. He simply told you to stay, not in an aggressive way but more of an invitation. He didn’t say anything for the rest of the time you were standing. Even though it was a small moment, it still made you think about what was behind the mask; a soft spot if you will. 

You set your dinner tray on the bedside table and make your way to the door. You had your nightgown on, it slightly stuck to your body as you walked. Pressing your ear against the door, you start listening to see if anyone is near. Once you were sure nobody was near, you let your finger rest on the button that opened the door. Your heart was beating so fast you were worried other people may hear it. The door slid open, leaving you blinded by the lights. It was so quiet, you were worried breathing too hard may get you caught. You walk around slowly, trying to find areas that are unfamiliar. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, your eyes just needed some new stimulation. The floors were cold against your feet, it was starting to make your teeth chatter. You passed the window panel that Vader normally stands but he wasn’t there. That relieved you, knowing there was no chance you could get caught by the lord himself. 

You turned a corner and immediately noticed the change in light. Instead of the bright white, the lights shined a deep red. Even though you had enough adrenaline in your body to kill a horse, you followed the lights. The walls were made of windows, so you could see space. Because of the lights reflecting off the glass, it made the stars appear red. It was nice to see something you always observed so different. You stayed there for a couple moments, admiring the lighting. You then walked into the room at the end of this hall. You physically cover your mouth with your hand when you lay eyes on him. He was in a bacta tank, completely submerged with serval tubes connected to him. There wasn’t a single part of his skin that wasn’t scared. It was shocking to see his amputations, you never realized. He was floating peacefully in the water, jerking or twitching every once in a while. Even though his eyes were closed, you could see how visible the bags under his eyes were. Perhaps this was the only place he felt true peace. You walked closer to the tank, standing so close that you could see your reflection. It wasn’t until then that you realized you were crying. His eyebrows were furrowed and his movements were becoming more frequent. This normally would have singled you to retreat back to your bed however, all you could think about was why they were keeping him alive. Who would put someone through such pain in order to maintain power? You now understand the power Lord Vader must possess. Such power that Palpatine was willing to go this far in order to keep Vader’s abilities and powers. You rested your hand and forehead on the class and closed your eyes. 

“For one day you will be engulfed in harmoniousness, the same way you are submerged in your torment,” you whispered into the glass. When you opened your eyes, Vader’s glowing eyes were cutting right through the glass. Your heart drops into your stomach and you run back to your chamber.

#darth vader #darth vader x reader #darth vader x you #darth vader x y/n #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #anakin fanfic #darth vader fanfiction

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 50 - Red Dawn

Summary: A tense car ride is full of twists and turns. Josie gets an upsetting message. Craig softens and he and Jo seem to bond as they share another long talk. A phone call leaves Jo with more questions than answers.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, anxiety, drinking,

Chapter characters: Luke, Josie, Craig, Lee

Chapter word count: 7,953

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

Salem, Massachusetts

March 22, 2022

The tedious drive back to Salem seemed like an eternity and it was deafly quiet, except for the cat-like purr of Luke's Charger. As soothing as the subtle sound was, it still couldn't calm the seething tension between you and the law abiding bad boy that consistently chewed on his thumb nail, for it was much too close for comfort in the compacted side by side space.

But as the cruising car entered Essex county, your focus then went to the mile long monster that lied up ahead. The Salem Harbor Bay bridge that you had recently drove over with Orlando with no choice, for time had been of the essence to get to Dave and this time, your reaction was not much different as your anxiety began to rise, but at least that time, you were in the driver seat. You had control and had someone with you that you trusted and felt safe with and that got you through it. Now, you were literally bound by your wrists and at the mercy of a man who's personality was all over the place. Hot, cold, gentle, savage. It was mood swing madness and you had been stupid enough to wake the lion.

The no speaking agreement was now over for you as you became desperate. "Can you please go another way?"

Luke's tone was cold and his words were straight to the point. "Nope. Freeway. Nowhere to turn around. This way is faster. The sooner I get you out of my car and my sight, the better."

You supposed you couldn't blame his anger after shoving him like you did. You were angry with yourself too, for look where it had landed you. In cuffs and facing prison time for assaulting a cop. Jesus, how were you going to get out of this one? You hated to admit it but Luke was probably right. Gerry couldn't do anything for you. Not without jeopardizing his job and his morals, but...it didn't mean he wouldn't try and you had to hold out hope for that, for if anyone could find some loophole to free you, it was your ex-fiance. You also knew that his guilt over his drunken one-nighter with your sister would give him the extra incentive, not to mention, he still loved you and now you were the one who felt guilty for even thinking of using that against him. BUT, you had the same issue you recently had with Dave. Gerry was M.I.A. and now with that added onto the Brobdingnagian bridge rapidly approaching, your nerves might just send you into a code blue.

Seconds before the wheels thumped over the divide from stable ground to an abyss of lung filling liquid, Luke couldn't help but notice your fear through his random side eyed glances at you as your body stiffened up, your breathing ceased and your eyes clenched shut. He pretended not to notice as he stared straight ahead and tried not to care but deep below the hardened shell of a man, the Grinch's small heart grew 3 sizes that day.

"What's going on Jo?"

"Just shut up and drive. Faster would be great." you muttered, eyes still closed.

"Can't. There's a truck in front of me and I can't pass. Double lines."

Your left eye peeked at Luke. "Oh my god mister holier than thou. Trying to make up for the shitty things you've done by being a model citizen now? What happened to the skillful driver who perfectly whipped my Monte Carlo around every turn in town like he was Luke Duke in the General Lee trying to outrun Rosco P. Coltrane?'

"But Bo always drove the majority of the time."

"Yeah I know that! I just thought it was more fitting to say Luke since that's your name and your hair is dark like his."

"True I suppose. I didn't care for Bo anyways. I don't like blonde hair."

There was silence as both of your eyes were now open and glaring at him as he stared straight ahead with that curled smug smirk of his.

You then raised a smart ass brow. "So that's why you cuffed and stuffed me."

Luke's eyes swung right over to yours and now you were giving the smug smirk.

"I cuffed you because that blonde hair of yours caused you to do something extremely stupid. Now, I thought we weren't talking?"

Your lips pursed and your eyes slitted. "We're NOT! So just hurry up and get us over this bridge already."

"We've been over it for the past 30 seconds."

"What?"

You straightened up in your seat and looked around to see that you were now on a rural road surrounded by forestry.

"Hmmph." you marveled as you burrowed back into your heated leather seat. "Guess I was distracted."

Luke grinned as he glanced at you. "Exactly. It usually does the trick."

"Wait, so...you only engaged in conversation with me to distract me from my fear??"

"Yep and it worked like a charm. Guess I' m not such a bad guy after all."

"Says you."

His eyes snapped to you as he grimaced. "Why do you hate me so much?"

"Is that supposed to be a rhetorical question??? Can you please just STOP talking now??"

"Whatever." he mumbled and sped up.

Not even a minute passed and Luke was speaking again. "So...you're afraid of bridges huh? Why's that?"

Rolling your eyes, you sighed and continued to gaze out the window as you reluctantly replied.

"I'm not afraid of bridges. I'm afraid of heights. There's a difference."

"So, more so, you're afraid of falling really."

"Well duhhhh...and falling into what lies beneath it. All the weight of that water, just pulling me down further and further into it's ice cold depths where there's nothing but darkness and it fills my lungs as my panic forces me to suck it in, trying to breathe."

"Or...you could always swim."

Your eyes lowered as you became quiet and began fidgeting with your fingers.

As Luke looked at you, awaiting your usual mordant riposte, he quickly realized why you hadn't.

"You...you can't swim?"

"Does this even matter? Why can't you just leave me alone and quietly revel in my misery? I got my just deserves. But hey, if you do happen to find a heartbeat under that cold and austere armor, could you not mention this to my mother for the time being? This is the last thing she needs right now."

You wriggled your hips in the skintight seatbelt so you could turn towards the window to hide the oncoming tears of shame and once Luke couldn't see you, they poured out of your eyes like a waterfall. What you didn't consider was that he could see your emotional reflection in the glass as you silently sobbed.

5 minutes of faint intermittent whimpers and sniffles were unwillingly heard loud and clear by Luke. As he came to a stop at a red light, he looked over at you and that's when his own anxiety got the better of him.

Seeing you all vulnerable and huddled against the door like a child sent a stinging twinge of empathy through his heart and made him question if what he was doing was right, even if you did break the law, for he had goaded you and not only that, your anger was justified about Lee. He wasn't going to tell you that though or the fact that he spent many nights weeping and beating himself up over what happened between him and his once upon a time good friend. It was extremely hard for him to speak about just as it was for Lee, for Luke knew it was all of his own fault by intentionally knocking over the first domino, he just never knew the chain of events would lead up to what it did. What he did know is that someday, you would know the ugly truth.

As Luke neared the road that led straight into downtown Salem, the guilt trip he was on forced him to abruptly stop and turn around.

As he pulled to the side of the road and parked, you were already sitting straight up with wet and wildly confused eyes.

"What are you doing? The police station is the other way?"

"I'm not going there. Give me your hands."

"What??"

"Jo, just give me your hands before I change my mind."

As you slowly and unsurely swayed your hands in his direction, he grabbed them, startling you as he vigorously unlocked the cuffs, then yanked your seatbelt off.

"There. Go on. Get out of here."

You sat speechless for a moment, staring at him as he stared out of his window, chewing his thumb nail once again.

"You...you're letting me go...just like that??"

"Did I not just take the cuffs off and tell you to go?"

"Ok but...here? You want me to walk? It's at least another mile to get back to my apartment."

"Can't you just thank me and get out?"

"Why won't you look at me and WHY are you doing this?"

"God damn it." he grumbled and side eyed you. "Why are you such a pain in the ass??!! Just fucking go!"

"Not until you tell me why you changed your mind and are freeing me into the wild like some caged bird??!!"

His palms slapped over his face and then he roughly dragged them down as he groaned in frustration.

"If I tell you, will you fly away???"

"Depends on what the answer is."

"Holy fucking hel..." he began as his fuming eyes met yours, but abruptly paused when he saw the remnants of your tears, then popped the glove box open, ripped a tissue out and held it in front of you as he continued, refusing to look at you once again.

"It's what you said about your mum. You're right. She don't need this. I spoke with her briefly last night and she was quite distraught about Megan so, I just feel with all her grief over one daughter, she don't need the added stress from another."

"So you're telling me you're doing this for my mom??"

"You sound like that's incredibly hard to believe."

"I don't know what to believe from you anymore Luke. One minute, you're this sweet and caring man that seems to have a heart, like the one who once came to my mom's house and comforted me through an anxiety attack and even defended me against my sister and stopped me from strangling her, WHICH ironically I was doing for you with Landy only 24 hours prior when you morphed into robot Arnie the freaking terminator...and the next minute, you're back to being human again, helping me back there on the bridge and now you're claiming to let me go out of sympathy for my mom."

You sat back in a huff, realizing that Lee was behaving the exact same way and you were at a crossroads, literally, on what to do anymore about either of these messed up men.

Luke sighed and softened up a bit. "Look Jo. I don't know what else to say. I pushed you over the edge, waving a red flag at you. If I hadn't done that, I don't think we would be sitting here right now."

And so you softened up a bit too. "Yeah well, I pretty much came at you sideways and got you all riled up."

Luke chuckled and shook his head, then looked right at you with a disbelieving smile.

"What?" you asked, returning a half smile as your eyes curiously tried to figure him out.

"You. You're so afraid of all these things that are bigger than you and here I am, at least 3 times your size, yet you weren't afraid to shove me on my ass. I'm not sure what shocks me more. The fact that you did it or the fact that you were even able to do it. I admire that fire in you Jo. Don't ever let anyone try to put it out. With that said though, use that fire on those other than authority. If it were anyone other than myself or Gerry, you'd be at the station right now being booked as we speak."

You gasped. "Oh god, speaking of, I better call Dave and tell him because I guarantee he's already on his way to bail me out and you'll be busted. I mean, it's the least I can do so you don't lose your job over me."

Luke sat quietly stunned as you made the call, telling Dave to turn around and asking him to keep what he knew under wraps.

"There. He won't say anything. I really hope you are going to lay off of him now."

"As long as these ferry tickets he gave me and the ferryman's words all coincide, he should be good. Thank you Jo and... for the record, I wouldn't have just left you out here. I would have let you sweat for about 5 minutes and then came back." Luke teased with the usual curled grin, then put the car in drive.

Your riposte came out of left field and definitely struck a nerve. "Thanks for sparing me from being another victim of love em and leave em Luke."

Luke gritted his teeth, appalled by knowing that either Orlando or Lee had told you about his notorious moniker of his younger days that he had long forgotten about and wanted to keep it that way.

"This joy ride is over. It's time for you to go home and...about Lee. Just stop asking me. It's his story to tell. Put your seatbelt on."

"It's not just his story when you're involved."

"Wasting...your...breath." he firmly certified and slid a cd in, hoping to shut you up.

You buckled your belt then crossed your arms and scoffed as you sank back into the seat. When a song came on, Luke cranked it up and began mumbling the words as he tapped his fingers upon the wheel and both the singing and the choice of music had your eyes gaping at him with an severely raised brow.

"There'll be no strings to bind your hands..." he began and then snickered as he glanced at you. "How fitting eh?"

"Seriously? You have a Juice Newton cd? Why am I not all that surprised."

"You're mocking me when you clearly know who she is?"

"Nope. Not at all. It's just that the night you drove my car, your choice of music was quite different and frankly much better."

"Oh, you mean Radar Love. Yeah well it was fitting for the occasion just like this one because now here we are with you, a cheery oh angel of the morning." he razzed and then beamed a snarky smile full of teeth.

Shaking your head, you heavily sighed and looked away, trying to ignore the overgrown infant beside you, but that quickly became impossible when he began crooning out the chorus, which you knew was solely just to annoy you.

"JUST CALL ME ANGEL OF THE MORNING BABY! JUST TOUCH MY CHEEK BEFORE YOU LEAVE ME BABY! Then slowly turn away...from meeeee."

"Whad'ya think? Next American Idol winner?" he gloated and howled on with his karaoke session, which if you were to be honest, Luke had a damn good set of pipes but you wouldn't dare tell him that because then he would certainly never shut up.

"Goblin king, take this baby away from me!" you irrationally jeered, then flung your head back against the seat and closed your eyes to try and zone him out, hoping he would take the hint to leave you alone, but you should have known better than that.

Luke's speedy riposte was a breath stealing punch to the gut and you had pretty much had set yourself up for it.

"Oooo ouch. That's rich coming from you. You know Jo, you should really be careful what you wish for since children seem to go missing when you're around."

Just as your eyes snapped open from the sting of his tongue, Luke was pulling up in front of your apartment and low and behold, Craig was outside speaking with what appeared to be a gardener.

"What a coinkydink. Daddy dearest in the flesh. So, does he know that Blaise was right within his reach that night and you knew and didn't...."

"He knows alright! I..I told him yesterday and now, I guess I'll be moving back in with my mom."

"Oh? Why not move in with Lee? You're basically at his place and up his arse all the time anyways aren't you?"

"Now you're the one wasting their breath. We're done here Luke. And if I were you, I'd get out of here before Craig sees you. Besides me, you're not exactly his favorite person."

"Not worried in the least."

As you opened the door, Luke touched your shoulder. "Hey Jo."

"What now??"

"Just be careful around him ok? You're probably better off to get away from him."

"And that's rich coming from YOU." you argued and got out.

Before you could close the door, Luke had more to say.

"Oh and Jo."

"Oh my god, what Luke??"

"Don't let the door hit you in that cute ass."

You shot a death glare at the derogative detective, then slammed the door and heard the blacked out window roll down.

With an arrogant wink, Luke put on a pair of mirrored sunglasses and attempted his best terminator voice. "I'll be bock."

Your eyes rolled so hard, it made you dizzy. "Ughhhh!"

As you stormed off, he revved the engine and sped off which then alerted Craig to your arrival. The last thing you wanted was another confrontation, especially with your rightfully pissed and soon to be ex-landlord, so you kept your head down and moved quickly, feeling his eyes upon you the entire time as you trekked up the sidewalk and into the building, but he never said a word.

You were now safe inside your apartment, all alone to finally gather and process all of your scattered thoughts, but first, you needed to call your mom and see how Megan was.

Slipping off your coat, you let it fall to the floor and went straight to the fridge for some wine, not caring that it was only 10 in the morning, the same time Craig had been drinking yesterday that you hypocritically gave him a lecture about. As you sat down on your bed with your full glass and turned your phone screen on, there was a text from Lee.

When you opened it and read his woeful words, your heart dropped down to your stomach as if you were falling.

Lee always expressed himself with such endearing words from his heart, but sometimes, he let poetry and music speak for him and this time, it was lyrics from a song you knew.

"I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met. I don't know what I'm supposed to do haunted by the ghost of you. Take me back to the night we met when the night was full of terrors and your eyes were filled with tears. When you had not touched me yet. Take me back to the night we met and then I can tell myself what the hell I'm supposed to do. And then I can tell myself not to ride along with you."

Your heart began to pound, for Lee was basically telling you he wished he could go back to that day in the hospital and never visit your room and that meant you never would have found his bracelet under your bed and took it to his house where your love story all began. You knew he wasn't trying to hurt you. He was just being honest about how he was feeling, but it still hurt. It hurt immensely.

You didn't reply. You didn't even know what to say to that, so you just picked up your wine and let the entire contents of the glass roll down your throat as you fought back the burning tears.

Desperately trying to distract yourself, you called your mom. She told you Megan was doing well but was still too groggy to speak. She also told you that she saw Lee that morning when she came down for coffee. He was on the phone with someone, seemingly upset, so she respectfully kept her distance but she couldn't help overhearing his scolding tone to the unlucky recipient. He spoke about his father's one month of passing and that he was going to his grave to pay his respects after attending the evening mass and told the other person that they should be going too, then Lee abruptly hung up and stormed out. You knew instantly it had to be Gordon and had something to do with the farm dispute between the two bitter brothers.

You told your mom you would be there later to sit with Megan so she could go home, eat and shower. When you hung up, you then nervously wondered if you should still go to the cemetery too, like you and Lee had planned, for if you saw him, you might not be able to walk away again.

Undecided, you got up to begin packing up some things since Craig had given you till the end of the month to move out and that was now only 7 days away. Luke's words haunted you about moving in with Lee as you sorted through your clothes. Yes, you were there all the time and everything was perfect in that area. You were so happy there with him. You would have been happy anywhere with him because Lee was home to you.

Your distraction tactic of keeping busy was failing miserably and it was quickly blown to bits when you were going through clothes you hadn't laundered yet and found a shirt of Lee's that you wore home a few mornings ago. And if that wasn't gut wrenching enough, it was still saturated in his Drakkar cologne and all you could do was scrunch it up against your nose and inhale his intoxicating essence as you laid down and cried your exhausted eyes to sleep.

Meanwhile, Craig was on his way up to your apartment to give you back your deposit and as he approached your door, he raised his hand to knock, but humbly lowered it when he could hear your muffled laments from within. Whatever you were going through, he felt that he should not add to it and it aggravated him that he even cared. Was any of it due to how he had treated you?, for he just witnessed you had rushed to avoid him at all costs or was it because of the depraved detective he had come to despise?, solely because he was Ethan's brother. Craig's street smarts told him Luke was still a red flag, no matter what surname he took on to disassociate himself with the flyblown Bloom blood and if Luke became a threat to you as Ethan had, he would handle him too. Regardless of what was ailing you, Craig decided to leave you alone for the time being and slipped the check under the door, then left, feeling rather disheartened over making you leave.

3 hours later.

You awoke in the same position that you fell asleep in, still tightly clutching Lee's shirt against you and now, not only did his sweet succulent scent seep from your pores, it was also imbedded in your purple satin sheets. You had to get rid of it. ASAP.

The bed was torn apart as you ripped the sheets from it and threw them in the basket along with the perpetrator, Lee's guilty shirt and then headed to the door to take them all down to the laundry room which is when you discovered the check laying on the floor.

Upon picking it up, the amount floored you, for it was hundreds more than what you had given Craig and attached on the back was a sticky note, scribbled in red ink with incredibly perfect penmanship for a man.

Craig certainly seemed to be on the wealthy side but this was too much and was clearly not about your clothes. It was his guilt over kicking you out and you weren't about to accept a payoff apology, especially when he didn't even have anything to be sorry about. You were the reason his 4 year old daughter was missing, even when you weren't the one who snatched her.

Exasperated over that and everything else, you hurried downstairs and packed the washer full of clothes along with an undetermined amount of soap while sobbing the entire time, then went back up to cry some more in the shower, a shower that was cut short by a burst of water as cold as the Atlantic and rust as red as blood....just like what happened to Dave. AND...you had the same reaction as he did.

Gasping and frantically rubbing your eyes, you huddled in the corner waiting for your sight and the water to clear. What was happening?? You did not believe that to be a coincidence all in a matter of 8 hours at two far away different locations, especially when that had never happened in your shower before. Was it some kind of sign, more so an omen or was it merely a plumbing issue like Dave believed his was?

Now that you were all primed and primped for the day, you resumed your packing while debating on calling Craig about his demonic shower needing an exorcist and to come get his money, or...you could just simply shove it back under his door with your own note attached so you didn't have to interact with him. Option 2 seemed best.

You scrawled out a note on the back of his and reattached it to the check, then quietly creeped down the hall to his studio where all was silent inside. Hoping he wasn't in there, you bent down and slipped it under the door, cringing at loud the sound was. Just as you stood up to tiptoe off undetected, footsteps swiftly approached the door.

Spinning around with a gasp, you rushed off only to freeze solid at his shout from directly within the door.

"Just Josie. Come on in!"

With a gulp, you hesitated then slowly made your way back to the door and walked in. There he stood, dressed in all black attire as usual and wickedly grinning while holding your check.

He then turned it over and began reading your note out loud in a trenchant, yet amused tone.

"Thank you but no thank you. My outfit only cost twenty bucks at a thrift shop."

"Well, if that's so." he continued, "then you obviously like deals and that's what this is. A hell of a bargain actually."

"Craig, the added amount is almost as much as one months rent. All you needed to give me was my deposit."

"I was trying to apologize for my wine induced behavior and the harsh things I said to you and a simple "I'm sorry" just didn't seem to cut it."

"You don't owe me an apology Craig. I deserved all of it and the paint bath too."

"You were only trying to help my drunk ass up and even after the first failed attempt that ruined your clothing, you still tried again. And no, you didn't deserve my spontaneous misguided anger. You didn't kidnap my child and you certainly couldn't have known that it was going to happen."

"How could I have not?? I witnesses Elizabeth drop her off at Angel's in a panic over Ethan harassing her about paternity. I should have tried a hell of a lot harder to reach you, end of story... and for that, I will forever be so damn sorry, but as you said, those words just don't seem to cut it. I..I pray that you find Blaise safe, sound and soon. I really do and I will do whatever I can to help make that happen and make things right for you and her. Now, I have to go finish packing. Your apology is accepted and please just keep the money."

"Alright." Craig agreed with astonished disappointment all over his face as he watched you walk out.

His agreement was short lived though and he chased after you, squeezing in your door just before you turned to close it.

"Craig, what the..."

"Just hear me out. Please?"

"Do I even have a choice since you barged right in?"

"Do you want me to leave?"

"Ok fine, but whatever you have to say, you'll have to say it while watching me pack. I have a lot to do today."

"Fair enough. I guess I'll start with Jason. Are we even now?"

"Even?? Craig, I swear I didn't use Blaise to get back at you for..."

"No no no. Jo, I know you didn't and I'm sorry I ever said that. What I meant was, well...if I forgive you, can you forgive me for not telling you your brother was alive? I mean, you were pretty rabid mad that day. Just a little bit scary." he teased with a smile.

You chuckled as you thought of what you just did to Luke. "Yeah umm...I guess I too had spontaneous misguided anger. It was meant for Jason, not you. I know you were just trying to keep him safe and you did. You saved his life, so how can I not forgive you?"

"Sweet. So we're square now. Well, except for one thing."

Craig walked over to your suitcase and began tearing your clothes out of it.

"What are you doing??"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm unpacking your clothes."

"What...wait...why?? Put those back!"

"I will not. I don't want you to leave. I kinda like you a little bit if I'm honest AND I think you kinda like it here and maybe even me too and..."

He held up a long blue dress and placed it against his brawny body. "And oooh wow. Smokin hot."

"Give me that!" you barked and grabbed it, but Craig laughed and wouldn't let go.

"Nope. Not until you agree to stay." he demanded as you both were now playing tug of war...until the dress split right down the middle.

"Oh, well THAT'S great. It's all yours!" you huffed and plopped down on the edge of the bed.

Craig sat down too and slowly handed you the ripped remnants.

"Sorry." he whispered.

You couldn't even be mad, especially when he had the shameful expression of dog who got busted for chewing up a pair of shoes. Instead, you did what you were becoming a pro at lately. Broke down crying with your face buried in your hands.

"Whoaaa, hey now sweetheart. What's this??"

"Everything!" you squeaked and then rambled on. "My sister was hurt really bad and is in the hospital. She could have, would have died if she hadn't been found and I know Ethan did it, and I was almost arrested today for what you described as my rabid madness and Jason took off with Britt because of your creepy ass father and Lee, he is...I don't even know anymore with that and then everyone's showers are spraying blood and..."

"Alright slowwww down and breathe love. Let's start with the psycho scene. Showers are spraying blood??"

"Yes, mine and Dave's. Well, he said it was rust but with all this ghost shit, I don't know what to think."

"Ghosts??"

"Long story. Is your shower doing that?"

"No...and what did you do to almost land yourself behind bars?"

You mumbled your answer in shame. "I...assaulted a cop."

Craig's eyes popped wide open as he released a titter out of is grinning lips. "Oh how I would have loved to have had a front row seat to that event. What a little baddy you are. Remind me to never piss you off."

"Not funny." you sniffled.

"Ok, maybe not then, but you're obviously not in jail. So, how'd you get out of that mess? Oh wait, was it your ex-fiance cop?"

"Let's just skip this part ok? I shouldn't have mentioned it."

Considering Craig saw Luke drop you off and how fired up you both seemed, he knew it was him you spoke of, but per your request, he would drop it and the overwhelming desire to take the little piggy to market...for now.

"Yeah cops aren't exactly my favorite subject either. Ok so...what's going on with your sister? Ethan attacked her?"

"It certainly appears that way but she hasn't been alert enough to finger him. I'm going to the hospital later to see if she's talking, but I just know it was him. I think he did it because she told Luke that she thinks Ethan took Blaise because he thinks he is her father or maybe he did it to scare me because he hates me and wants Lee all to himself."

"That measly inbred maggot. I should have just taken care of that problem when..."

Craig stopped himself but, it was too late.

"When? Does that have something to do with what you said yesterday? About something you did for me involving him??"

Craig seemed stunned and he was. "I...said that??"

"Yes..I...I just forgot with all that was going on. Craig, what did you mean?"

"Jo, I was quite sauced yesterday remember? I tend to say a lot of things when I drink. What...exactly...did I say?" he probed with an curious brow so he could figure out if he had to tell you what he knew about Ethan and Lee.

"You said you protected me from him but never said why or how."

Craig made sure that his explanation wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the entire truth because he felt you didn't need to know Lee was still Ethan's husband during a meltdown.

"Ohhh...that. Yes, well...I...I saw him once and I basically told him to stay away from you or he'd be fish food." he paraphrased as his heart began to beat again.

"You did that for me?"

Craig suddenly felt awkward. Not in a bad way, but more in a "too close for comfort" kind of way, so he gave a logical answer instead of admitting he had taken a sweet fancy to you, which was the last thing he wanted. He had vowed to himself after Elizabeth's destruction that he would never allow himself to become close to another woman ever again.

"Well...you're my best friend's little sister, so, you know. What's important to Jason is important to me."

"Well thank you and well... I wish you HAD fed Ethan to a mosh pit of sharks, still ALIVE and baited in a pool of his own blood and then let me watch so I could hear his screeching screams and the satisfying crunch of his bones as the angry aquatic vampires with a thousand razor sharp teeth chomped him to death in a splashing feeding frenzy of pure diabolical rage."

"Yeeesh. Easy there Annie Wilkes. Tell me how you really feel, minus the Stephen King synopsis. Horrifying image."

"Arrrgh. Jason was supposed to have taken care of him by now and for saying that, I feel like such a fucking hypocrite for giving him and Lee such a hard time about Liz when she was no better than Ethan."

"And I married the black widow. Even had a kid with her, or so I thought. Creator of life, destroyer of mine. "

'"So did Lee basically. She fooled everyone, EVEN Ethan. God Craig, how could she do that to her own son??? That little boy was my nephew and now Ethan has your daughter and I know he's not just going to forget about Lee. So much keeps happening. No wonder I ended up in the hospital."

"I...I heard about that and...I wanted to maybe send you some flowers or come visit but...I..I didn't think my presence would have been appropriate, you know, just being your landlord and all and well...there's the little tidbit of my primary profession as well that I'm sure Lee isn't too fond of. Anywhoooo...I'm really glad you're ok. You're...ok..right?"

"For the most part yeah. Just gotta keep my iron intake up and stress levels down, which you can see is damn near impossible with the life I'm stuck in."

"You're only stuck if you choose to be."

"It doesn't feel like a choice anymore, even when I try to...ugh, it doesn't even matter."

Craig's ocean-like eyes were consoling as his hand went to your cheek. "Hey, it does matter. What else is bothering you? I have really good listening ears like that of a faithful family dog, only much less hair and a strong but soft shoulder to lean on and even comforting arms if you recall."

"I don't know. Like, for one thing, I'm supposed to hate my sister after all the horrible shit she's done to me and yet, I'm having a hard time hating her after what happened. Like, why...why do I care about people that don't deserve it???"

"Because you have a good heart which can sometimes be a curse really. You're supposed to be able to trust the people closest to you and when they go and give you a reason not to, it's a total mind fuck. It's hard to let them go even when you know it's what's best for you. I get it Jo."

"What I don't get is why I'm not good enough for the truth. I'm always being lied to. It's become nothing but a pattern and how am I supposed to trust someone when I don't know what they're holding back?"

"Ok first of all, you are good enough and if someone doesn't see that, then they are the ones not good enough and second of all, why do I feel this is not about your sister?"

"I appreciate what you're trying to do Craig, but...it doesn't matter."

"It does matter because you're clearly not happy. Tears don't lie. Are...you happy?"

Your eyes fell. "No. No I'm not. I'm miserable."

"Me too. Why don't you stay. We can be miserable neighbors together and drink wine every day and night to the point of inebriation, creating terrible art as a hobby while being covered in a rainbow of paint. You know, kind of like I already do? It's actually kinda fun and therapeutic. A little bit of good trouble..per se. I could use some inspiration as you well know."

You giggled. "Right...because we would actually be the artwork. How inspiring."

"Exactly! Except you'd be a firework. Oh, and you still owe me a viewing of your own masterpieces. So...whad'ya say?"

Craig got down on one knee and took your hand as he gave you a pathetic puppy face.

"Will you be my neighbor?"

"Oh my god you're such a nerd. Get up." you chortled and stood up.

"Well, I've been called much worse. Things I cannot even pronounce. You don't want to know, trust me. Sooooo, is that a yes?"

"I'll think about it."

"YES!" he jeered like an old lady at a bingo game winning the jackpot.

"So now, I'm really sorry but I need to get going. Thank you Craig...for listening and for the advice. It was nice. I want you to know I'm thinking of Blaise everyday and if I can help, I will. You'll never convince me that it wasn't my fault."

In the blink of an eye, Craig became all serious as he placed his hands on your arms. "Alright but, before I go, I need you to listen to me. Don't be letting your guilt cause you to do something dangerous. You let me handle this ok?? I don't want anything happening to you. Let me know what you decide on the apartment and...I'm really glad you're ok Jo and I...I hope you will stay. I like having you around."

He softly smiled and headed to the door, then turned back around.

"Oh and...I'm also glad you don't hate me."

"Ditto." you smiled. "Talk soon."

Craig left and you felt terrible for him. The formidable mafia man, always full of quirky humor wasn't so tough on the inside and was clearly lonely, but even so, you had to do what was best for you and if you stayed, would it really be a good idea? Had you known when you first moved in that Craig was one of Sonny's men and Jason's bff, you most likely would have ran away as fast and as far as you could. On the other hand, he could protect you and he wanted to and you felt safe around him. BUT, that didn't mean you would be. Things could always go wrong, especially in his world, which was now your world. Although, hadn't it always been your world because of Jason? And things always went wrong then, no matter where you were. Even your own brother couldn't keep you safe.

In your confliction, you knew you may still need to leave on a temporary basis because of your sister. No one knew yet what happened to her or where Ethan was, so she could still be in danger and that put your mom in danger as well with Megan living with her.

As you carried on with packing the rest of the one suitcase for the time being, once again you were interrupted. This time by the cordless phone ringing that Lee had talked you into getting for extra ways of communication. You decided to let the answering machine get it because you were in a hurry to get to the hospital, but when Lee's hypnotizing voice was heard, you stood frozen in time.

"Hey sweet girl. I tried your cell but...I don't know, it must be on silent or maybe you just don't want to talk to me. I wish you would. I'm sorry about my text. I didn't mean it in the way you must think. If you're there, could you please pick up? I'd really love to hear your voice."

He paused and waited a few moments, then continued.

"Ok, well, I...I'll just say what I need to say and leave you alone. Jo, I know I've said this so many times and it just sounds so meaningless, but I mean it, with every ounce of my being. I'm so sorry baby. For all of this. For all I have put you through. It's only been a single day and I miss you in ways that there are no words for. You are a mental and physical ache. A longing woven deep into my DNA and I...I don't know how to live like this. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I'm nothing without you. I'm inside out. I merely exist in this soulless shell and because I know you exist, there's no going back for me. There will never be anyone else for me but you. No one else could ever do. The heart wants what it wants and mine wants you and I knew it. I knew you were the right one from the get go and I still know it because the word "forever" does not sound like enough time."

As your heart was being torn in two and devoured by his agony, you walked over to the phone and picked it up, letting your finger hover over the call button, but you couldn't bring yourself to answer, so you just kept listening to his unintentional torture.

"I know I have no one else to blame but myself. I know I'm broken. We were both broken. By life. By others. By our own serious dysfunctions, but we finally found each other after a decade of near misses. We were so close to each other all that time, yet so far apart and when destiny finally stepped in and we finally came together like the sun and moon during a total eclipse, all of the jagged edges of our broken pieces fit together like a puzzle, as if all that time, we were being broken for that purpose, to be a perfect fit for each other. But now I feel like I don't fit anywhere at all. Not anymore. Life goes on around me as i sit here and watch the boats sail by on the bay and I feel like I'm just a spectator, watching from the sidelines. You were...are my life. You are where I belong. You are my purpose, my reason. God Jo. Without you, all I want to do is drown my sorrows away and Lord knows I've tried, but even then, a sea full of whiskey couldn't intoxicate me as much as a drop of you. Because of you, I believe in love and fairytales and soulmates and everything that is magic. I followed the signs because you showed them to me. Just tell me it's not too late. Don't give up on me. I want to tell you everything and if I can bring myself to do that, maybe then you'll understand. I guess I've wrote a novel here and I should go. I still wish you would come today...to the cemetery. I'll be there around 4. If you don't come, it's ok. I will understand. Ok well..."

There was a pause and then he finished as his voice became very shaky. "I...I love you Miss Massachusetts. God I love you."

Lee quickly hung up and sat down. He had too. The 3 Red Bulls he downed earlier paired with the threat of an oncoming panic attack had him jittery, weak and breathless.

"Lee wait!" you shouted as you punched the red button, but there was nothing but a dial tone.

Should you call him back? It would be so much easier than speaking to him in person because he had this wicked way of breaking you down and getting what he wanted from you that no one else had ever possessed, but of course he could say the same thing about you. Now the real question was, should you go? Lee clearly needed you and you were worried about him. You could hear it in his voice, the fear, the destitution and desperation...the love. And just because you and he were having problems didn't mean you would abandon him, but were you strong enough to uphold your boundaries in his presence? The mere sight of him was like some invisible magic in itself. You felt so guilty because he was fighting like hell for you and you were keeping him at arms length and just running away. Fight or flight? That was the all out question now and you knew exactly who to go to for the answers. Someone who had been through it all. Your mother.

@redeemer46

#lee pace #lee pace fanfiction #code blue #jolee #love stories #dark stories #dark fiction #luke evans #craig parker #Youtube

[rite4fun]

firefly

another fic based on a song,, definitely not going to be everyone’s cup of tea but i’m a bit of a masochist and loveeee a good angsty fic now and again!! if you got any ideas on what i should write next, don’t be shy, send a message, open to many things; smutty, angsty, fluffy.. anything really :) (once again.. see an error, no ya don’t)

the only warning i got, is don’t read if you have a sensitive heart <3

••

although night has fallen, the breeze is still humid around the pair that lay pressed side by side on the damp ground of the quarry.

the thin blanket they lay upon doing nothing to protect their clothing but neither seem to mind as they gaze up at the open sky, lustrous stars scattered across the midnight abyss.

“do you ever think about what happens after you die?” her voice is soft, a sweet melody that accompanies the rustling of leaves and crushing waves of water a few feet away.

“nah” his response equally as hushed but less like a song and more like a disgruntled muffle.

“ever?” she turns her head to look at the man beside her, his side profile illuminated by the moonlight.

“dun’ need too” his words are definitive, leaving no room for any further questioning.

she adjusts her head back to the empty space above, the slight swish of the water against the bank tickling her ears everytime the wind blows.

“maybe.. maybe we get to choose what we come back as.. i’d be a cat.. oh! maybe a firefly!” she excitedly gasps, a smile stretching across her lips.

“why tha hell would ya wan’ ta come back as an insect?” incredulously fills his question as his head whips to look at her.

she meets his gaze, her smile softening at the quizzical expression he wears, “have you ever been sad when you have seen one?”

and taking in her words, he realizes the undeniable resemblance she holds to a firefly. similar in their relationship with humans, she too brings a lively spirit to any room she enters - to any person she encounters. no one can resist the natural ray of light that bubbles from within, bursting at the seams and bringing every bit of life back to what it used feel like with a simple shine of her smile or riveting laughter.

it was like the universe knew they needed her, needed that ever building optimism and confidence she seemed to never run out of in this new world.

••

light pours into the room from the windows, a soft glow casting over the unconscious figure in bed. daryls shaggy brown hair sprawled messily over the white pillow case as the dark blue covers pooled around his hips leaving his sunkissed bare chest exposed to the cool morning air.

his body stirs as his consciousness rises, the silence of the beginning of a new day washing over every fiber of his being. a refreshing contrast to the ugly world that lurks beyond the walls.

daryl reaches an arm out to the opposite side of the bed, searching for the warmth of another body. the lack thereof is accompanied with emptiness among the cold sheets, leaving an unnerved feeling in the seekers chest.

with a sudden gasp, he sits up in a panic. sleepy blue eyes squinting in the luminous room as they search the open space for the missing presence. the more time passes, the larger the anxiety grows within the already empty cavity that lies in his chest.

his heart thuds painfully, a hand rubbing over it as he throws his legs over the side of the bed, feet landing on the chilly flooring. before he can throw caution to the wind and fully thrust himself into a full on manic streak, the door across from him opens.

a familiar figure stepping into the natural lit room and daryl finds himself finally able to breathe at the sight of her.

“oh.. well good morning sunshine!” his sudden alertness just as surprising to her - who had slipped from the bed as he lay dead to the world, snores having left his mouth as his mind finally finds a deep resting period. “what’s wrong?”

blue eyes glare from under the curtain of messy bangs, an evident hint of annoyance filling the once relaxed ambience room.

“ya weren’t in bed..” a frown settles upon his lips in complete contrast to the upturned amused smile that appears on her own.

“even though you refuse to acknowledge it, i volunteered to go on the next run,” her body sways closer, daryl forced to tilt his head up to keep eye contact. his eyes narrow at the glowing halo the shining sun seems to create around her head.

“the run i told ya not to go on?”

she hums in confirmation, “rick’s been planning it for days. solid strategy and the place seems promising”

her words fall flat to his ears, a million and one scenarios filtering through his mind as they often do when she steps outside the safety of alexandrias’ walls. she’s every bit capable of handling herself but it does nothing to ease his fears of just one slip up and shit hitting the fan in a split second for his whole world to crumble.

actually, he’d rather not think about it.

“or.. ya could stay here with me” his hands reach out, fingers easily slipping through the loops of her jeans to pull her even closer.

“cute” her fingers reach up to pinch his nose playfully, his nose scrunching up at the ticklish feeling her touch leaves, “but you promised aaron that you would finally make another recruiting mission”

it’s been a minute since daryl had stepped far outside the walls, their last trip lasted near three weeks, returning with only one person. aaron called for a dry spell, deciding that maybe their help wasn’t needed outside the walls right now but inside.

daryl isn’t one to settle for too long and he’d find himself taking daily hunts outside the walls just to keep a seldom piece of mind, but he’d recently found that he didn’t particularly mind if he was forced to stay inside the house if her presence was assisting.

a couple months have passed now and daryl still feels like he’ll never get enough of her.

her hand lifts to brush the long bangs from his vision, revealing her favorite shade of blue. the simple graze of her fingertips against his forehead sends a riveting chill through his whole body - his breath hiccuping, eyelashes fluttering before shutting heavily.

gaining the strength to open them, he finds her now standing at the bottom of the steps, slipping her boots on. the touch of hers, now just a ghost feeling as his body physically aches for it longer.

“duty calls, dixon” she winks before walking up the steps and out the basement door.

••

“did you ever think about staying?” leaves crunch loudly under her feet in the otherwise desolate forest.

“where?” he doesn’t have the heart to tell her to be quiet with all the noise her miss-matched steps make. he was finding himself more often than not seeking out her company especially in times like now where the search of a twelve year old girl remained urgent and weighing heavily on his shoulders.

“in the cdc..” her eyes gaze over the woods that surround them, although they have stated they have more cover here, she still finds it unnerving to see the many hidden spots a person - a walker - could be. “even for just a second?”

“hell no” he stops, looking over his shoulder at her, “why? did ya want to?”

she shrugs, eyes still wandering their whereabouts, “thought about it..”

“why?” he asks in bewilderment, turning his entire figure to face her, forcing her attention to his intimidating frame that towers over her.

“just.. sometimes i think i’m not meant to be here long..” she shifts her footing, looking away from his sharp blue glare, “not sure i’m built for this new world”

“‘nd why’s tha’?” frustration creeping into his bones.

“just a feeling, i guess..” she’s regretting asking him such a question and now opening up to him as she can feel the crushing irritation roll off him in waves.

“well..” he roughly scratches at his chin, “yer here so yer jus’ gonna hav’ta deal with it” he turns away, ready to get back to their search and rescue. hopefully forget this whole meaningless conversation.

“why do you care?” the question is ridiculous, she knows it too as the minute they met, they just clicked. he found himself rather comforted by her exuberant personality - a contrast to the dull world - and she had found a sense of safety within him.

“why ya suddenly so negative?” he rushes her, his curiousity piqued at her startling pessimism.

“i’m not! i-i just think-“ she scrambles to grasp her words, she hadn’t meant it to sound so daunting.

“yer gonna be fine” his words leaving no room for her to doubt or dispute.

“you can’t promise that” she shakes her head, shoulders curving in.

“i have n i will. we’ll find sophia n we’ll find some place ta settle. it ain’t gonna end like this, not for us” his words are final and despite the slight lashing, she can’t help but feel soothed by them.

he’d be damned if one more person gave up, most of all her whose light always shined brighter than most.

••

daryl stumbles out the same door several minutes later, following the delicious smell coming from the kitchen.

a slight disappointed feeling fills his stomach when her figure isn’t in there, a place she’d normally be humming some random tune as she danced around.

instead, the humming is from his fellow friend carol and although he typically doesn’t mind her company, he couldn’t deny the overwhelming urge to rush out the door and find the one his body craves most.

carol senses his presence, turning around as her eyes sweep down his person caustiously, “morning, how are you feeling?”

“mornin’” he squints his eyes at her filtering gaze, “‘m fine”

carol nods slowly, setting a plate of food infront of him before turning back to the stove silently.

the air feels heavier than normal between them, there is something off but daryl can’t put his finger on it. not one to press, he decides to let it go, if carol needed to speak to him about something, she would.

as he looks at the plate of food, he realizes he has no appetite instead he finds himself looking through the windows, trying to catch a glimpse of her but it is like she’s vanished and that similar feeling he had this morning when he couldn’t find her begins opening again in his chest.

the abrupt squeak of a chair before it’s tumbling to the floor in rapid succession has carol spinning around to face him. he stands haphazardly next to the fallen chair, chest heaving in the silence.

carol takes small wary steps in his direction, leaning down to pick up the chair and settling it upright. she eyes him again, searching the surroundings for the thing or person that sent him into a tizzy but there’s nothing.

“hey.. you okay?” carol softly asks, her motions slow and tone quiet in hopes of not disturbing whatever frenzy daryl suddenly seems to be in. she steps closer, enough to reach a hand out and set it up on his arm. his body jerks roughly, eyes flashing to meet carols, “come on.. sit back down”

carol gently motions for him to sit again but he doesn’t move. his heart has snuck up to lodge in his throat, creating a sharp lump when he attempts to swallow the nonexistent saliva in his otherwise dry mouth. he isn’t sure why he suddenly feels like the world is crushing on his chest or why he feels the need to run until his legs ache and his breathing burns as he tries to catch it. his mind is running but not a single thought sticks except what the hell is happening.

••

“hiya stranger!” she approaches him, her eyes scanning his new set up.

“wha’ da ya want?” he looks up as he puts up some finishing touches of his camp.

“just checking up on the neighbors.. you know, since you’ve moved away” she pesters as she steps further into the area.

“dun’ know wha’ ya talkin’ bout” he denies and turns away, hoping if he ignores her, she’d leave.

“you do” her voice closer and when he looks over his shoulder, he finds her settling on a log near the fire he had just started. her eyes flicker up and meet his, patting the spot next to her, “sit”

he could easily kick her out, yell- cause a big scene so she’ll go running back to everyone else.. but he finds that he can’t- correct term won’t because he genuinely wants her here. it’s an infuriating feeling sometimes.

he sits anyway, plopping carelessly into the spot next to her. no one speaks for a couple minutes, the sounds of nature encompasses the empty space as the fire crackles infront of them.

“no one blames you, you know? you did everything and more to find sophia, pushed harder than anyone on this land..“ her arms settle around her legs, pulling them closer to her chest, “carol is lucky you were willing to continue looking even though everyone else wanted to give up.”

“not lucky enough..” he grunts, hand rubbing over his chest where an ache begins to stir eveytime he thinks of the little girl who died alone and terrified in the woods, if only he looked harder.

“no.. maybe not. but she’s thankful.” even not looking at him, she can sense his disagreement, “she is! they all are, we are incredibly lucky to have someone so willing to do anything despite the odds.” she glances at the group campsite, only a sliver of light visible from the distance that he put between them and himself, “you shouldn’t pull away.. they need you. all of them.” utter disbelief gracing his person as he scoffs, “what? they do! they need your strength, your wit, your drive..” she stands abruptly, ready to make the trip back to her own tent, having felt she got everything she needed to off her chest plus some, “you’re every bit as important to this group than you think..”

“wha’ bout ya?” his timid voice makes her stop in her tracks.

“hm?” she tilts her head, her body still close enough that he can see the flicker of the fire reflecting in them, his stomach flips at the sight.

“y-ya said they need me.. wha’ bout ya?” the eye contact is intense and he finds himself taking a deep breath as if it will lessen the heat of it.

but she’s the first one to break it, taking a glance in the direction she was headed before looking down and toeing at the dirt, “maybe, uh.. when you’re ready to join us again.. there’s space next to my tent for you to set up- if you want” her words are rushed, almost bashful and he can’t tell if the pink of her cheeks burn from the heat of the flames or his gaze.

she doesn’t have to wait long for an answer when the next day, coming back from a day of gun training, she finds him setting up his tent in the empty space next to hers.

both sharing an equally coy smile.

••

by the time his head catches up to reality, he finds himself now outside, sitting on the porch swing alone. the vivacious sounds of the community invades his ears, his eyes following the many movements that come from the members who take advantage of the beautiful day. only a couple houses down, that same familiar figure exits from a home, bounding down the front steps and striding down the sidewalk. the sight of her takes his breath away simultaneously as it lifts that weight from his shoulders.

sensing his intense gaze, she looks over her shoulder, silky hair moving fluidly down her back at the motion. her pink lips lifting into a sweet smile as she lifts a hand to wave at his still figure before turning around and continuing her journey down the street.

daryl finds himself going to make the move of following her, hoping it’d quell the ever-building ball of anxiety in his chest as she creates more distance between them. he doesn’t make it far, just barely lifting his body from the swing before the front door is opening and carol is stepping out, a cup of water in one hand and the abandoned plate of food in the other.

she settles next to him, slipping the cup into his hand. in his disconcertment, the sudden acknowledgement that he has limbs that function becomes evident in the way his fingers grip the glass tightly in apprehension.

“i’m sure aaron will understand if you don’t go today..” carol finally breaks the silence, placing the plate on her lap and staring out into the street.

it’s unsettling the way she speaks to him, although their friendship has grown enough that being vulnerable infront of each other was welcomed, it was like she was holding something back. it was beginning to become frustrating to daryl as tensions rise more, he knows there is something there, he can feel a part of his brain has shut a door of information he feels like he should know.

daryl invisions the mentally shut door with bright yellow caution tape creating an X over it and no matter how curious he felt, he found himself not being able to open it.

“‘m fine” he grunts as he brings the cup up to his dry mouth.

that same desire earlier of crawling back into bed and wallowing in the covers with another warm body vanished, if she was outside the walls - daryl would be too.

“then atleast have some breakfast,” carol thrusts the plate into view, his stomach churning unpleasantly at the sight.

“not hungry..” turning his body to face away from the food, he sips at the water to crush the near unbearable urge to vomit.

“you should eat if you plan to go with aaron, you’ll need the energy” carol pushes more verbally but physically she sits back against the porch swing, her eyes casting over the back of his person.

daryl can’t stand an overbearer.. well except one. the only one he’ll tolerate with such nonsense now stands at the corner of the road. she’s further than before, forcing his eyes to squint as if it will better his sight. she’s got a bag over her shoulder as she conversates with someone infront of her.

the sunlight beams over her, casting an even brighter glow on her skin. it’s impossible to not look at her whenever she’s near, a true beauty that warrants all attention wherever she goes.

and goes, she does.. again. parting ways with whoever she was speaking with and disappearing around the bend, out of his sight.

don’t get him wrong, daryl loves a good chase but this has become increasingly tedious. she’s so close, yet so far - a stone’s throw away but still out of reach.

he can’t take it anymore as he heaves his body from the porch swing, leaving carols’ to be jostled by the sudden movement. her hands reaching out steady herself and the rejected plate of food as she watches him move disorderly, staring off down the empty road for a moment longer..

then he’s moving, throwing open the front door hastily. carol is quick to follow, calling out to him as she surveys the sporadic way in which he throws his crossbow over his body and mumbling to himself as he rummages through his pack.

“i think you should stay in today” daryl freezes his rash ministrations at carols’ voice, riveting sharp blue eyes peaking through his messy bangs.

“wha’ is yer problem?” carol is taken back by such notion, taking in the defensive way in which he stands - hands gripping his bag and holding it purposefully against himself.

“i-i don’t have a problem daryl.. i just think you should cancel today” she stands in the open doorway, blocking his way and whether it’s intentional or not, it makes him feel caged in. an itch crawls it’s way under his skin and he needs to get out now before he does something he’ll regret.

“i told ya, ‘m fine” he shoulders his pack, “now, ‘m leavin’.. wanna catch up ta say goodbye”

carol is hesitant to move but she can see the way in which he grips the strap of his bag - knuckles nearly white as he fights an imaginary battle against himself. his fight or flight mode activated by their conversation, there’s days she pushes but she can’t today because among the agitated gaze that sets in his eyes is the fearful look that covers his face. such vulnerability that he only shows time to time and one that breaks carols heart everytime.

she steps away from the doorway, allowing daryl to push through and down the steps, his last words finally catching up to her, “you’re gonna say goodbye to rick?”

it isn’t unusual to bid farewell to a group run, this new world left little to no promises to anyone but carol has never seen daryl so rushed and panicked to say goodbye to someone.

daryl has just reached the bottom step as he takes in her ridiculous question. his words coming out heavily sarcastic, “ya gonna send him off with a song n maybe even a kiss”

he shakes his head in disbelief as he stomps to his motorcycle. not bothering to settle his belongings along the bike and instead hastily throwing a leg over and starting the engine. a wash of relief settling cooly over his skin at the roar of the motor and building vibrations beneath his body.

••

“would you rather be burned or buried when you die?” she speaks louder than the monstrous growls that travel through the fences a couple feet away.

“why ya always on ‘bout death, woman?” she giggles at the genuinely preturbed tone he uses, it always shocks her how quick she can catch him off guard in comparison to his usual mellow demeanor.

“you see the world we live in? not exactly a guaranteed place for the living..” her voice falls short at the end, losing her words somewhere in the dirt that she digs in. her gloved hands sprinkling in some seeds before piling the soil on top and patting it down.

repeating the process in another area of ground, she reaches up and swipes an arm over her forehead. even though it’s morning, the georgia sun still bears down against the pair, her skin already beginning to glisten with a layer of sweat.

“i told ya, ya dun’ hav’ ta worry about tha’” her head shoots up to face the man infront of her, he wasn’t big on gardening but he liked spending any free time with her- even if it meant being knee deep in the sodding earth, “‘bout.. dyin’.. i mean. least not while ‘m here” he continues when confusion covers her flushed face, seeming to have forgotten the promise he had made to her before.

the sentiment of his words are sweet - familar and she wants to believe them but as she looks to the rattling of fences to her right, she can’t bring herself fall short of reality, “shouldn’t promise things like that..”

“i mean it” the absolute tone along with the clear certainty that covers his face makes her smile softly, “who knows.. maybe yer’ll be the last man standin’”

the heroic idea isn’t as appealing as he tries to play it out to be, quite frankly it holds more of a harrowing threat. one filled with loss and loneliness, one she would rather not think about as she tries to bury the thoughts along with the seeds she plants.

“i always liked the idea of a tree pod burial..” she answers her own question from before, “would be cool to come back as a tree” her little joke is a hit and the man across from her scoffs out a laugh as he shakes his head.

“yer ridiculous” the two share a smile before continuing their manual work.

she redirects her attention back on planting the many seeds she has left while he stays struck still on the prospect that she’s thought of her death before - something he’d rather not fathom - even to her perferred burial.

despite her previous dismissal at his words, he would infact continue to keep the promise that came from his affectionate remark and the one before that. if there was anyone in this world that deserved to beat this new world, it had to be her.

and he’d do anything to make that happen.

••

he glides down the street to the front gate, taking in the recruitment car and two figures standing near it. he rolls up behind the car, eyes flashing in disappointment as he notices the missing vehicles to his right.

“didn’t think you’d come!” eric and aaron stride closer, speaking over the loud engine of his bike.

“they left already?” confusion falls over the pairs’ faces, “rick and them?”

“oh.. yeah!” aaron nods, “rick wanted to get out early so they had as much sunlight as possible”

daryl takes a second to digest the words because he can’t believe she didn’t say goodbye. he understood the urgency to hit the road, he knows the disadvantage they had against the dead with the lack of light but.. his heart still sits dejectedly in his chest.

“daryl?” he hadn’t realized his head had fallen forward until he lifts it heavily to meet erics’ eyes, “you okay?”

he can see the concern in both their features, the same unpleasant worry over his wellbeing showcasing in their cautious manner. daryl is getting real sick of everyone treating him like he is a glass doll.

“should hit the road too, if we, uh, wan’ ta be back by sundown” he nods his head towards the walls, hopping off his bike and attaching his crossbow and bag securely.

he keeps himself busy with adjusting his belongings that he misses the shared look between the couple infront of him but they make for no more conversation.

once aaron has settled into his own equipped vehicle, daryl watches as eric leans over the open window. clearly a romantic farewell for aaron as they laugh, it’s every bit as obnoxious as ones he’d receive when he left her behind. her voice always sweetly asking for one more kiss and clinging to any body part she could.

he’d never been a fan of pda before but he never could deny her. he also couldn’t help the flare of jealousy everytime he caught wandering eyes over her figure, only to be quelled when they would catch sight of the many ways he’d claimed her and he equally hers.

the burning in his chest grows as he thinks about her, somewhere outside these walls without his affections. the itch grows under his skin, irritation filling his body as he watches the pair share sweet sentiments.

he honks his horn, the sudden sound making them jump along with the watch guards. he plays it off, atleast he hopes the pull of his lips look more like a playful smile and less like a painful grimace.

it’s enough to have them sharing one last kiss before eric steps back from the car. the guards up the tower motion for the all clear, another pulling open the gate. daryl passively throws a nod in erics direction when he passes him as he continues to ride through the gate.

••

“the bright side is we’re back together!” her cheerful statement a cover for the fear she had endured for those few days she remained alone after the fall of the prison. the heart-wrenching pain she felt wandering the woods, searching for the people she found a family in. “we’ll find something better, i don’t know about anybody else but those cells gave me the creeps!”

and despite everything, the loss of their home, the separation, the cannibals- they couldn’t help but laugh, a laughter filled with disbelief and relief because they were infact still together. still alive.

to others, they probably looked like maniacs, laughing and hugging one another in the middle of a road, the sky caking a dark set of thunderous clouds above them with the threat of pouring rain but to them.. it meant they were still living.

he pulls her close, shoving his face into her hair as he holds her tightly to his chest. giggles errupting from her pink lips at the crushing grip.

“gotta let her breathe man, she’s the only light we have left.. gotta keep her around” ricks’ tone is filled with humor but his statement paved way for the truth.

if one of them ever needed a bump of enlightenment, she was the one they seeked out. her optimism lit a fire that burned within each of them, sometimes they just needed that boost of energy she never seemed short of to keep going.

••

it seems this recruitment trip will end in similar fashion to the previous ones: a bust.

“i say we end early, stop by that mini mart we passed and then go on home.. sound good?” aaron stared down at the map laid atop the hood of the car, they had ventured even further than they originally had organized. they really only had two choices now, do what he previously stated or travel even furthur out but they didn’t really plan on overstaying anywhere so as it seems, the first option sounded more appealing. “daryl?”

“hm?” he had been pacing on the side of the road after their previous conversation of their whereabouts.

aaron had noticed the whole trip how out of it the other male seemed to be, locked up in some mental battle. they’d be lucky on walkers, coming across small groups and the occasional loner - nothing they couldn’t handle.

“that sound okay? I think we’d be pushing it if we kept going, better we go home and plan a few days trip than risk it all today” aaron folds up the map as daryl continues to pace, teeth nibbling on the skin of his thumb.

“ya, we could stop by tha’ mini mart we passed before headin’ back” daryl looks to aaron for confirmation who only nods in confusion as if he didn’t just suggest the same thing seconds ago. he watches the way daryls’ usually skilled hands scramble over his belongings as if his mind has yet to catch up with his movements, repeating motions he had already made.

he can only hope that daryl has just enough mental clarity to get them through the last bit of this trip so they can make it home safely.

aaron leads the way back to the abandoned mini mart they had passed, keeping a mindful eye on the motorcycle behind him.

always cautious with just the building around the corner, aaron pulls onto the side of the road and daryl pulls up next to him a bit furthur into the woods, concealing his bike within the wilderness’ cover of bushes. they stay hidden in the thicket of trees, coming up on the backside of the mini mart, hoping that if someone was here, they’d catch them blindsided.

daryl takes the lead, eyes sweeping across the open back alley. he signals to aaron the all clear and they sync their steps, one covering the front and the other watching their backs until they reach the building.

pressing themselves flat to the brick wall, on opposite ends of the only door that’s available for access into the building in the back. daryl lifts a hand to jiggle the doorknob roughly then pressing his ear to the door. he is met with silence so with one final sweep of the otherwise quiet alley, daryl shares another nod with aaron who grips the doorknob as his counterpart raises his weapon. in silent conversation, the door is swung open to reveal an empty room, clear of walkers or live beings.

aaron holds the door as daryl checks every corner of the small room and once cleared, he shuts it behind them, leaving them in complete darkness. their next movements are quick when whipping out their flashlights.

the first room is a storage room, boxes upon boxes labeled of papers or containers. the next room they come up equally as empty, although a break room it contains nothing but a fridge that leaks a rotten smell. seeing their way out of it, their met with a hallway that splits in two directions.

the right has four closed doors while the left has only one so daryl makes a motion towards it, aaron following closely behind. the door swings open to a small kitchen, trashed but empty of walkers as their lights cast over the room. they move further in until they reach a cased opening, both walking through and finding a food case that separates them from the main lobby. they keep their steps quiet, flashing their lights over the room once to confirm they had finally made it before looking infront of them.

the food case holds what would have been fresh food but now resides it rotten below them. both of them shuffle behind the counter silently, daryl leaning over to flash his light at the closet rack across from him. his eyes following the light as it reveals bags of chips left unharmed, they’d all be stale but hope builds in his chest at the potential of more salvagable food.

he reaches out to nudge aaron, nodding his head in the direction of the chips as both their lights flash over the rack and they share a similar look of gratification.

maybe their trip wasn’t a bust after all and they could bring home a real treat for everyone when they empty this place.

but alas, like many things in this new world, nothing is ever that easy anymore because not a second later the familar groaning sounds of a walker makes itself known, stumbling from around the rack and towards the counter. easy enough, daryl grips it and stabs a knife in its head before he shoves it back. maybe a bit too roughly as it collapses into a display, taking every bit of it down with a resounding bang.

the pair freeze, ears ringing in the ominous silence before it’s followed by multiple ghastly moans. their lights flash around as the walkers reveal themselves and begin to crowd the counter, forcing them to move back.

“we can’t take them all, we have to go!” aaron shouts over the ever growing sounds as daryl attempts to kill as many as he can, thrusting his knife in one before moving out of reach of the grabby hands. a walker pushes through on one side, advancing into the space they reside in and cornering them to one side, “we gotta go, now!”

aaron pulls at daryl before both are jumping over the opposite end of the counter, dashing down an aisle and weaving into another in the darkness. aaron holds the front well, stabbing any walkers that cross his path while daryl throws whatever shelves or displays down behind him to block and hinder the dead so they can make a quick escape.

“there! it’s an exit door!” aaron flashes his light a few feet ahead, grunting as he kicks one walker back and stabs another before finishing off the previous one. daryl chances a glance ahead, finding the same door before he focuses on keeping a decent distance between them and the growing crowd following them.

aaron makes a dash ahead for the exit, shoving the shelf that blocked it and pushing the door open, his eyes squint, arm coming up defensively at the bright gleam of light that filters through the door and casting clearance on the scene inside.

daryl finally breaks through an aisle when the distinct yell of his name steals his attention from the billow of light that glows from the exit door. aaron lifts his gun, killing the dead that stand in daryls way of reaching safety, the echo of gunshots would surely attract more walkers but he is hoping by the time they show up, him and daryl would be miles away from here.

daryl is so close, only a few feet away from where aaron stands when the same distant yell reaches his ears again. his head looks in the direction it seems to emanate from, a flash of white light, followed by the familar figure he so badly missed this morning, dashing around a shelf. his brain stutters, steps matching with staggering steps as he tries to comprehend the idea of her being here- let alone if that was her and- questions upon unanswered questions filter through his mind but he wastes no time in diverting his direction towards where he last saw her.

he’ll be damned if he left her here in a walker infested mini mart, he’ll berate her later.

“daryl!” aaron screams, firing shots at the few walkers that stumble towards him while others follow the other man back into the darkness. there’s no second guessing in this new world so aaron quickly finds himself letting go of the door as he darts after the other man, “shit!”

daryl can’t seem to catch up, always a couple steps behind as he stumbles in the dark while he tracks the gleaming ball of light that seems to follow her. he calls out to her, demanding she stop and wait for him but she doesn’t listen, maybe she can’t hear? he makes to yell again but as he flashes his light in the direction she seemingly disappeared in, she’s gone.

he lost her.

his mind shifts gears into overdrive, frantically searching around in circles with his flashlight, eyes flicking in every direction as he tries to determine just where she may have escaped. having made it to the front of the store, he scans down every aisle, walkers stumbling down most of them but he pays them no mind as he seeks out the one he came running after.

his one track mind causes him to lose sight of his surroundings, unaware of the walker that creeps up on him from behind. his head falls forward as his ears ring at the sound of a gunshot and as he whips around, he finally notices the fallen walker and his savior who stands above it, gun clutched in their hand.

“i told you it’s time to go!” red in the face with frustration, aaron turns away from daryl and begins unblocking the front doors, layers upon layers of blockage that he shoves away to reveal the chains that lock around the handles, “there’s chains daryl!”

pulling an arrow from a walkers head, daryl throw his pack off and tosses it in aarons direction, “gotta’ hatchet in there!”

together they work, one taking out the walkers that drive closer to them and the other fighting the shackles that lock them in this place of demise.

“daryl!” the shout of his name - one much clearer than the others earlier - has him turning around, the door now opened and it’s radiant light blinding him for a moment, sensitive blue eyes squinting but still- he grabs the hand that reaches out to him and pulls him through the doors.

the wind howls through his ears as his feet pound heavily against the black tarmac. his chest heaves as he pants, his attempts of catching his breath useless as he loses it just as fast as he gains it.

finding safety in the great distance they’ve put between them and the shit show they were in, both pairs of feet slow until they come to a complete stop - dropping everything but themselves to the road.

daryl barely finds himself recuperating before his body is abruptly shoved, the exhaustion of running leaving his body tired and easily conforming to such movement with many steps back as he tries to find his footing again.

“what the fuck were you thinking?!” aaron shouts at him, “were you trying to get yourself killed?!”

steady on his feet now, his attention falls back in the direction they’ve just come from. the breath of fresh air bringing clarity to senses as he rethinks the close call, then reality hitting him as he realizes there was infact no her but instead some conjured up neurotic vision of his.

he shakes his head, a palm coming to cover his face in disbelief. he nearly got them killed over a hallucination, daryl felt like he was going crazy and yet he felt a sudden need to get back. he had to see her, make sure she was okay. maybe it was a sign, he thinks. maybe things really did go south like he thought it would because he wasn’t there to protect her.

“i-i gotta get back” it’s the only thing he can get out, a heavy wave of anxiety drilling into him. daryl reaches down to grab his bag and crossbow, walking into the woods and back towards the direction of their abandoned vehicles.

“no- wait!” aaron grips his shoulder, forcing him to look at him, “what was that?! we had a clear exit!”

daryl understands the anger, the frustration that equates to fear at the near death experience he put them in but right now, he has more important things.. like getting back home and finding her, making sure she was every bit as okay as she was this morning when she stepped out that bathroom, glowing from head to toe.

“man i don’ owe ya nothin’!” he swings his arm, shoving the other mans hand off him as he diverts back to his original pace and course. despite the leaves that crunch sharply under his boots and the space his rapid steps put between them, he can still hear the muttered words that spill from aarons mouth.

“i told carol and rick you weren’t ready..”

daryl whips his body towards aaron, “wha’ the hell ya mean by tha’? wha’ shit ya been talkin’ with carol n rick?”

aarons’ pentience eyes travel over daryls figure, taking in the man before him. he shakes his head before continuing to walk, “nothing.. let’s go”

daryl returns his gesture from before, gripping his shoulder as aaron passes by him, forcing him to stop his motion, “is’ not nothin’, tell me wha’ the hell y’all been sayin’ bout me!”

aaron takes a deep breath, exhaustion clear in his tone as he speaks, “thought you wanted to go home?”

daryls’ forced to fight an internal crisis of pushing more or just letting it go, he chooses the latter, opting to press for more information later once his sights set on her and the knowledge that she’s made it back unscathed is visible then- he’ll rage until someone tells him what the fuck the gossip is about.

despite his final verdict of the situation, the swell of anger still sits tightly in his chest. enough that as he passes aaron, he harshly throws his shoulder into the other mans’ as he makes his way back through the dense woods.

••

“i think we’ll be good here” she pipes up from the makeshift bed they lay upon the floor.

“yea?” he grunts.

“mhm.. could be a good home.. for a long time” his heart skips when her eyes flicker to meet his, “settle down finally..” the warmth in her words make his stomach squirm.

“with me?” insecurity in his tone.

“who else?” she shakes her head in disbelief, bringing a hand to cup his cheek, allowing a thumb to caress the skin of his cheekbone before shrugging, “maybe it’s time to think of the future.. our future hm?”

he is speechless as his hand comes up to cover the one she has on his face, holding it before bringing it to his lips, kissing her fingertips softly. the feather-like touch making her laugh quietly, a smile spreading on his face at the happiness that emits from her.

they had a future. she wants a future. with him.

••

the sun’s just beginning to set as daryl finds himself impatiently slipping through the first sliver of space his bike can fit through when arriving to the gates of alexandria. his eyes catching sight of the returned vehicles - a visual confirmation that the group run has made it back - as he races down the streets to his home.

if the thundering of his bike isn’t enough to reveal his presence, his bounding steps up the stairs are, leaving the occupants that sit inside his house more than ready to face him. atleast it should, yet the two faces that stare back at him in his kitchen are no less than startled.

quite frankly, they were the last two people he wanted to see considering the idle talk that aaron so kindly disclosed to him earlier.

“hey.. didn’t expect you back so early!” carol speaks with faux cheerfulness, a clear indicator that something’s wrong, that and the transparent flicker of concern on ricks face.

“wha’ happened?” daryl wants no more bullshit, this game that everyone seems to be playing with him today has caused him enough irritation and confusion to last him a lifetime, “go on!”

the silence is deafening, the pair infront of him turning to each other - a soundless conversation - before pivoting back to him, fish mouthed and all as if trying to find the words or maybe there isn’t any.. either way it pisses daryl off more.

he adjusts his stance, rubbing a hand down his face before throwing it towards them in frustration, “jus’ tell me where she is?”

and the room freezes, literally and figuratively. while no one moves physically, a sudden chill settles over him and he rubs at his arms as the goosebumps appear over them. bewilderement makes up his face as he stares back at the pair before him who seem frozen in time.

“wh- who?” carol is the one to speak up, words wary and meek. rick seemingly caught up in his own mind as he drags his own hand over his growing beard roughly, a look of discomfort taking over his features.

“dun’ play fuckin’ games, ya know who ‘m talkin’ bout! she went on the run with ya today rick! where is she!?” he hadn’t even noticed his pulse rising, a wave of anger coursing through his veins: red hot and flushing over his skin causing him further irritation. shoulders rolling back and his chest puffing out, his menacing demeanor a threat to anyone who won’t give him an answer, at this point he doesn’t care if it’s his family- someone is going to tell him what the fuck is going on whether they like it or not.

“dar-“ rick begins to speak but is quickly interrupted.

“she’s still out…” carol steps around the island, hypervigilant of the man infront of her, “they got back early and she wanted to hunt while the sun was still up.. why don’t you rest and we’ll let you know when she gets back?”

it’s all daryl needs to hear, a where and he’ll be there. always.

just on the horizon, sits the bright orange sun, leaving the sky colored in a dark blue with pinkish clouds. the gentle breeze of warm air ghosting over the community, a peaceful wave of harmony found in their otherwise dark reality.

but none of it matters to daryl as he bolts out the house and towards his bike, the hasty calls of his name bouncing off his back. he’s got his gear still hooked as he straddles the seat and all it takes is a flick of a switch for his engine to start.

he’s just moved the kickstand up, preparing to roll out when a hand reaches out to grip his handle bars, forcing his attention on the owner.

“don’t do this brother..” ricks’ voice is filled with emotion as he stares into his eyes, an attempt to convey something to him without verbally saying it.

“let go man..” fury is all daryl can explain what he feels, red alert alarms blaring throughout his brain and causing mayhem in every vincity of his body - furthering his irritation levels.

“daryl, let’s just go inside and wait” carol croons at him and an unwavering pressure of rage boils down then out.

“get the fuck off!” daryl crushes ricks hand in his as he attempts to shove him back, his voice level making carol step back in fear and all the commotion bringing unwanted attention from the residences that roam the street. the stares are just as aggravating, pity and comminsertion on everyone’s face as they look on the scene.

he goes to make another break but two sets of hands reach out to grab either him or the bike and all he can do is try and fight them off. to him, their voices are muddled and their motions slow but daryl still finds it difficult to keep up. a sudden surge of exhaustion taking over him at everything that he had and still is enduring since this day started.

a pit in his stomach opening as tears build in the back of his eyes, his attempts of getting them to just stop seem futile but he still tries tirelessly.

“daryl!” a golden voice reaches his ears through the sounds of his heart pounding, his head sweeping to the owner, “she’s here”

the hands of rick and carol hovering but having stopped all motions as they watch his chest heave with his watery deep breaths and slow blinking eyes. he seems to take in maggies’ words before he makes for getting off the bike, leaving it to fall if it had not been for ricks grip on the handle bars.

his steps seem almost indifferent as if his mind has yet to come up with anything solid to grasp and instead willing to go wherever, so long as he doesn’t have to endure whatever hell rick and carol were putting him through.

he matches his footing to maggies as he follows behind her, right left right left right left right left right left righ-

he stumbles right into her back, muttering an apology as he lifts his head, a simple movement that suddenly feels so heavy as he stares at the ground before him.

“‘s this some sick joke?” his body faces away from the dirt and intersecting pieces of wood staked into it, “wha’ game y’all playin’ at? this yer idea of fun?”

his back is swallowed up by a massive cold chill, spreading sharply throughout his body yet a layer of sweat lingers over the same areas. his heart thuds painfully in his chest and when he goes to inhale a refreshing breath of air to clear the burning sensation, he finds himself unable to, his throat blocked by the sudden need to scream, cry, something to release the pent up emotions he didn’t even know existed.

but as his body trembles there, back turned in repudiation and facing his family, who seemingly have gathered along the way- he finds himself standing at that metaphorical door.

the one holding back some torturous truth that his mind locked up to protect his heart.

••

“you okay?” maggie settles next to her on the porch.

“hm, yeah. just don’t want to forget this..” this as in their family, who spread over the expanse of the streets of alexandria. laughter and chatter among the group as they bask in the glory of safety.

“oh we’ll have plenty of this that the memories will soon overlap, we’ll even be beggin’ to get away from each other” maggie nudges her with a playful smile before returning to glenns side who stands in group conversation a few steps away.

there’s an itchy feeling on her shoulder, a nagging reminder of her limited time.

“ya okay?” lost in thought, she missed the sound of the front door behind her opening and the heavy familar steps.

“why’s everyone keep asking me that?” she looks up at him, watching the way he clumsily settles next to her.

“well, ya are ova here, alone..”

“says you” her eyes flick to the door he just came from.

“was thirsty” he lifts the ice cold lemonade in his hand in her direction before taking a sip.

“mhm…” she rolls her eyes playfully, her knee nudging his and jostling his body. she wraps her arms around her legs, resting her cheek on her knees as she takes in the joyus scene before her. rick and michonne play with little judith, carl having found kids his age to bond with, maggie and glenn cuddle together as they speak to carol. their newfound family: abraham, rosita, eugene, tara, noah, sasha, gabriel- among the masses of this place they can finally call a home. it’s everything she has ever wanted for them, everything they have ever deserved in this cold wicked world.

so despite the never-ending pain that erupts from within, coursing through her veins and digging into her aching bones: she can’t help but feel euphoric.

she sighs in contentment, “you’ll be okay..”

“hm?” he leans closer, glancing at the sudden calmness that seems to settle into her person: an unspoken acceptation to her fate.

she turns her head to face him, eyes glazed over and to any watchful eye, it’d seem she was blissed out in happiness over the scene before her but reality was, she was satisfied to know he’d be safe within these walls.. he’d have his family to protect him, to help him continue to conquer this new world.

even without her there.

confusion riddens his face, an arm wrapping around her back and settling around her hips, pulling her body closer to his as he mumbles comfortly into her hair, “we’ll be okay”

with her face hidden in his neck, she allows herself to mourn the loss of her future- their future. shedding small tears as she rubs a hand over his chest, tracing small hearts over where his own rest.

the calls of their names have them pulling apart, their family looking on with glee as they gesture for them to join them. with a final kiss pressed to her head, he stands and reaches a hand out, her small one swallowed in his tight grip as he pulls her to join the liven group that greet them with open arms.

the stars above stand no chance to the beaming smile that covers her face, the last bit of her light brightening before it completely burns out.

••

“daryl-“

“yer lying” unshed tears rim his eyes, threatening to fall as he shakes his head at rick who returns the gesture.

“we’re not..” rick moves closer as daryl moves back with every step, his head continuing to shake as if it will rid the idea out of the universe’s existence.

daryl has to sweep his eyes across every person infront of him, searching for just one small implication that they were making some horrible joke but all of them share similar expressions to him: agonizing unshed tears accompanied by their trembling figures.

it’s gut-wrenching watching them, he has to tear his gaze away to keep from crumbling to the earth but maybe he doesn’t have too and instead it will swallow him up.

“i-i saw her this mornin’.. sh-she was here” his body stiffens at the sharp cries that seem to leave someone, his hands clenching in pulses as if it will help keep himself together.

“you didn’t, daryl” rick fights to stay on top of diminishing any potential reasoning to his friends delusions, he had to be the one because everyone else couldn’t.

“wha-“ he gasps, “i-“ his hands reach up to grip his hair roughly, “please..” and finally looking to rick, his brother, his leader, his last resort of denial.

but all he gets is a head shake before rick has to deter his eye sight away from the excuriating pain that settles into daryls’ eyes as that imaginary door finally opens.

“no no no no” daryls vision becomes impaired by the blurry of tears, his body finally giving up and collapsing into the earths soil. he can feel arms around him, multiple holding him anywhere they can as if it will piece together the chipped part of his heart that lays six feet below him.

it’s like he can still hear her laughter, can see her sweet smile, feel her warmth and it hurts more than he can handle at the realization that it’s been days since he truly did- his anguished wails ripping from the bottom of his heart and echoing into the world beyond.

he feels sick but the heart-wrenching sobs don’t stop, hiccuping breath after breath, searching for relief in the grim depths of agony. it’s useless.

the world must think so too as the day turns into night, casting the sky in an endless navy blue, the clouds low and hiding any forms of light as if the universe punished itself for ridding itselfs of its brightest star.

he’d give anything to go back to this morning, during that grace period of peace where she still existed. where his chest didn’t ache as it felt like his heart was tearing into two.

there’s an end to it all, somewhere in the darkness the tormented cries lessen but the devastating pain resides within them- sitting heavily along their shoulders as they grip tightly to one another as their rock; their strength breaks.

she’d always remind him how important he is to the group, how loved and needed his presence is. comparing him to glue and praising his durability to continue, not knowing that she was every bit as responsible for helping him be that.

he wanted to keep pushing if it meant she was there too. standing next to his person and giving him a perfect visual of how worth it living can be.

daryl isn’t sure he can be that anymore.

not when his searing heart is torn apart and buried beneath his body, no warmth to be found.

“look..” maggies emotion riddled voice rattles in the stagnant air and where his face had been buried in his arms, he lifts it, blinking rapidly as he focuses on what the others see: a single firefly.

flickering brightly in the absence of light and being the confirmation they all knew meant that she was there, she could see them, could hear their cries and that it was all going to be okay.

they’d be okay.

daryl would be okay.

because she was okay.

••

the celestial clock rings dusk, the light from the lamp casting a soft halo glow over her head, “why didn’t ya tell me?” his hand brushes her hair back, pressing multiple kisses to her feverish skin.

“wasn’t anything to be done, hey..” she grips his hand, a comforting gesture for the continuous tears that stream down his cheeks, “you’ll be okay”

“no-“

“you will. you have too, they’ll need you” her eyes cast into the other room where their family waits, having said their goodbyes but disappearing for the hard part, “gotta remind them that there is light at the end of all tunnels”

he shakes his head in despair, “should be you..”

“i’ll be there, in every light.. shining the brightest whenever you guys need me. your very own firefly to guide you” she smiles through the pinching fire that drives in her veins, leaving her whole body aflame.

“i-i dun’ think i can..”

“you can, my strength” her grip is weak, eyelashes fluttering before settling tiredlessly on him. the corners of her mouth twitching upwards, “may- maybe you’ll be the last man standing”

he doesn’t get the chance to let her know that he too, finds the idea to be just as daunting but he’d face it.

for her, his firefly.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead #norman reedus #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon x reader fic #rite4fun #heavy angst #romantic

[lilacthebooklover]

For the ask thing

9

Oh! Yours came in right after I finished answering another request for 9 heheh, looks like I'll just have to find another piece..

9) With characters I love

Travelling within the void is an odd experience, Eternal Sugar must admit. There’s a sense of weightlessness; she’s walking on air, more drifting than anything else. She shifts within the darkness, makes to move a certain way and finds herself floating in that direction. It’s helpful, not having to deal with inconveniences such as gravity when she’s already exhausted. “Shadow Milk Cookie!” She calls out, voice soft and breathy as another yawn escapes her. She blinks bleary eyes, trying again. “Shadow Milk!” She does hope he isn’t on the Dark Side of the Moon, still pining after his Hero. It would be awfully inconvenient to have to wait for him to return after all of this effort. Eternal Sugar, like the rest of the Beasts, could probably access it herself if she tried hard enough. Only Dark Magic was capable of catalysing the chaos they had created upon falling, so she’s well-acquainted with it by now. Still, she’s always been far more finely attuned to Dessert Magic, and the Dark Side of the Moon is hardly her field of expertise. Shadow Milk is the one who’s studied it, who knows its intricacies, who succumbed to its overwhelming hold first. He hadn’t taken well to discovering the truth about their kind. Eternal Sugar reminds herself to refrain from mentioning the witches once she finds him. Shadow Milk has gone on and on about his continuous deception of Pure Vanilla Cookie within that space-like abyss. Eternal Sugar wonders how devastated the Hero had been upon finding out he’d been susceptible to such tricks. In a way, she pities him. Like them, he had not chosen to hold such excessive power; it had been bestowed upon him in a glorious halo of saccharine falsities, any aspect of its past omitted from his knowledge as he was told to protect Earthbread. In another way, she resents him. It is not his power, not really, and once they are free he will still view them as nothing more than Beasts, despite their oh so very similar origins. He has yet to fall into the tempting grasp of indulgence. From all that she’s heard, he cares little for his own wellbeing, far too sacrificial for his own good– or that of his kingdom. Shadow Milk will try to take him down with them, Eternal Sugar knows. She’s still not entirely certain how he feels about his successor. Some days, he rants and raves about the injustice and misuse of his stolen power. Others, he mutters under his breath about how the cookie makes no sense, a hint of insanity tinging his words as he puzzles obsessively over how Pure Vanilla Cookie has managed to remain such an unfaltering symbol of good even after everything he’s seen and done.  But what intrigues Eternal Sugar the most is Shadow Milk’s sharp smiles, the amusement that glints in his eyes whenever he mentions the Hero. Shadow Milk values entertainment as much as he does control, and it appears that Pure Vanilla provides quite an intriguing source of it. Shadow Milk has taken the time to observe him to the highest degree, unpicking everything that makes his other half tick.

Eternal Sugar my beloved.. Pure Vanilla my beloved... Shadow Milk my beloved.... They're my scrunklies <3

#i hope this will quench your writing thirst >:D #writing ask game #thanks for participting!! #ask game #cookie run kingdom #eternal sugar cookie #shadow milk cookie #pure vanilla cookie #crk #crk fanfic #cookie run #cr kingdom #fallen heroes #crk fallen heroes #pureshadow #vanilla milkshake #shadowvanilla #thmemm..

[spctrsgf]

speechless

(part two to Irrevocably)

summary: Din realizes he loves you &lt;3, and now you figure that out.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: language, the reader has at least shoulder length hair, Din being a nervous lil cinnamon roll cus we all know he would if he liked someone

a/n: hehe i am so so sorry for not answering but here is part two for those who asked!

You grumbled, shifting more into the soft blanket as you shivered. You don’t remember the planet you were on being this cold, and it was really making it hard to sleep at the moment. You frowned and shifted slightly, sighing when you felt the leather seat beneath you.

You simmered in the moment with your eyes closed a bit longer, not ready to leap back into reality just yet. Reality meant no Din and facing all your feelings that surrounded him, and reality meant another grueling day finishing up the Crest, none of which you were ready for. You were content on being cold a bit longer, curling even further into the blanket.

You processed the information soon after, peeling your eyes open to peer down at you body. A navy blanket hung from your shoulders, balled into your fists and barely reaching your calves. You released the fabric so that it cascaded down over your legs fully, and sighed into the warmth.

Your gaze rose to the frosted windows of the cockpit. The abundance of light reached your sight, and you realized you were in hyperspace. You watched the space fly by, enraptured. You didn’t think you’d ever get over the way the stars blended into streaks when hitting light speed or the sereneness of the dark matter that surrounded specks of burning light.

“Well, that explains the temperature.” You mumbled a few seconds after you had the thought, now letting your head fall back onto the leather seat.

Your brain felt drowsy, but it soon connected two and two. “Din.” The word was out of your mouth before you realized it, barely above a whispered prayer. You were prompted to scramble out of your seat and the cockpit, not even registering the occupied driver seat. You wandered through the hull, only finding the Kid sleeping soundly in his hammock.

“Din?” You called carefully into the silence again, careful not to startle him if he were to be sleeping or in a awkward place. You went to go open the hatch when you realized you were in space and that would eject you into the airless abyss. You carefully inched yourself away from the deadly red button.

He had to be here somewhere. Either that, or someone else launched the ship. Could you have done that while you were asleep? You weren’t sure, but you were seriously considering it as you clambered back up the ladder. You wandered back into your seat, blanket pulled over yourself again.

Your head tilted to Din’s empty seat in the cockpit, allowing yourself to conjure up an idea of him, sitting long and tall in it. You figured he’d sit with his legs crossed, silently observing the world around him with an articulate eye. It was so real, you were proud of your drowsy brain for conjuring such an image.

You peeled your eyes away, deciding to try and turn the ship around to go back and get Din. You were halfway through sitting down when you realized there was someone in the seat. You nearly screamed, but stopped yourself when you met the glint of your Mandalorian’s beskar encasing his thigh.

So he was on the ship after all. You felt like a ton of weight had been lifted off your shoulders: he was here. You stood up straight again and pulled your hands from where they hovered over the controls, venturing back to your seat. You tried to close your eyes and get some more shut eye, but you just couldn’t keep them closed.

He was here.

He was right there, barely three feet away. It’d been four days. You were so done with him being gone, you missed him too much to keep your eyes closed for any sort of rest. Whenever you closed them, thoughts of the beskar, his perfect stances, and his voice hit you like a laser to the gut. He was worth the insomnia. He was worth all the emotions you felt in his absence. Your eyes opened and you let yourself trail your eyes up from the tips of his chaffed, dirty work boots to the curve of his jaw.

His… unmasked jaw?

Your hands flew to cover your eyes, letting out a sharp, high pitched squeal. You heard Din shake himself awake, pulling out his blaster to meet your face. Your hands flew again, this time coming to either side of your head in fear. “It’s me!,” You squeaked, eyes casted downwards. “It’s just me!” Din sighed in relief, dropping his hand. “Thank the Maker it’s just you.” His voice sounded different unfiltered, it was like honey. Addicting.

“Din? Your helmet?” Your eyes were still glued to his chestplate.

“Ah.” He made no move to grab his helmet, just flexed his hands.

You frowned. “Um? Whats going on? Do you want me to leave?”

His head shook violently in the corner of your eye. “No, no! I just- um-“

Your breath caught when the realization hit you. “Do you want me to… to-“

“Well, thats the thing,” he rung his gloved hands, the nervousness radiated off of him in clear yet surprising waves. “I kind of can’t say yes? You’re kind of stuck with me for life if you decide to look, and if you dont want to I’ll have to go bathe in the waters on Mandalore? So technically its your choice so I really cant say and I want you to choose-“

Your head had never shot up so fast.

“Ow!” You cried, rubbing the back of your neck. Din staggered forward in worry, turning you so he could check for any type of external damage. “Din,” you laughed, slightly embarrassed. “I’m fine.”

He huffed, rubbing your skin. “I’m just checking.”

“Relax, worry wart. I moved too fast, that’s all.”

“Eager, are we now?” He let out a puff of air that tickled your neck.

You smiled at the return of his confident swagger. “Cocky, are we now?”

He rolled his eyes and stepped back from you again.

You turned almost sloth-like, a wicked grin on your face as you teased him. His fingers were twisted together again in anticipation, creasing the leather of his gloves. Your eyes leveled with his own, letting you drink in the rich chocolate brown that they were. You shivered involuntarily at the intensity of being able to stare at his eyes, the notion being just a dream before. His eyes were slightly glassy but they softened as he took your unfiltered eyes, a new experience for him as well. His raw gaze felt as if it was going to swallow you whole and you swore you would never get tired of it.

You tore your gaze away from his mesmerizing eyes to fall onto his nose, crafted by the Maker above, you were sure. His cheekbones were soon explored by your soft gaze, followed by the strong curve of his jawline. You admired two day old beard and mustache, instantly falling in love with the few patchy bits. You finally met his hair, a floppy mess of rich, dark brown curls that had scattered from his quick escape from sleep.

By the time you met his gaze again, a goofy sort of grin had been permanently embroidered on your face and you felt like Din was the only light in this dark, dark universe. You held his eyes with your own, your normal squeamishness with eye contact fading quickly. How could you possibly look away from him now that you could see him fully, absorb him in his truest form? How could you look away when he let you in after so many years of shutting everyone out?

His own lips lifted into a grin as he took in yours, his shoulders slumping in relief. You realized then that you had probably left him on a ledge of anticipation, so you tried to compile a sentence. Even the simple task of thinking was hard under his smile, that stupid perfect smile. “I- wow.” You managed out, the best you could do. He laughed, the sound bubbling out of him generously. You imprinted the sound on the back of your brain, vowing to never forget it. “That amazing, huh?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, that amazing.”

He fidgeted with his vambrace. “Well, I’m glad I wasn’t a total disappointment.”

“Hey,” you stepped closer, nearly six inches away. “Whats that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing, its- nothing.” He shook his head and relit his smile.

You frowned, but chose to let the subject go. Sort of. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. I think you look absolutely stunning. You saw me: I could barely get three words out.”

He nodded. “Only time I’ve ever seen you speechless, I think.”

You smiled fondly, resting a hand on his chest plate as if you could feel the strong heart beating beneath it. “I have a feeling it’ll be a regular thing, tin can, so get used to it.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at the nickname, but played along. “Yeah, well I guess I’ll have to fill the silence you leave then, sweet girl.”

And that would bring the ‘speechless’ count up to two, Din noted.

#i love din djarin so much #my lil cinnamon roll #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

[theteasetwrites]

Merciless Beauty

Chapter 3: The Wound Is Quick and Keen

❧ Pairing: Knight Daryl Dixon x Princess Reader ❧ Era: Medieval fantasy AU ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing, scary situation, violence and gore, references to death and traumatic situations (including child abuse) ❧ Word Count: 6.6k

❧ Before You Read...

❧ Glossary

❧ In This Chapter: Sir Daryl escorts you outside the walls of Alexandria for the first time, and though the excursion is mostly pleasant, it is rife with danger. A close call leads the two of you to a secluded cottage that only Daryl knows of, where a bond begins to grow.

❧ A/N: The princess is free! Well, kind of. She is so cute I love her. And Daryl... UGH. Literally the best. I don't have much to say about this part, but I wanna give a quick shoutout to all my friends who have been beta-reading this series! @weretheones @finalgirlrick @darylspissslit @devnmon @purple-witch-23 @littlelovingideas @spncupcake thanks so much friends!! I appreciate you<3 Also pls check out their work because they also write TWD stuff and it's amazing

The long, dark, sepulchral tunnel seemed at once cavernous and claustrophobic, with the light of the knight’s torch only illuminating a few feet ahead, but the feeling of a much wider expanse of darkness, in which shadows that may or may not have really been there lurked within the blackest corners. It was no small wonder they had been not-so-lovingly dubbed The Tombs. 

Though you were sure nothing was behind you, it felt as though an unseen entity stalked you, stepping on your heels despite no real physical weight overcoming you. There were always rumors around court about these tunnels, how they were haunted by the souls of those who perished in the first struggle against the Dead, but you tried not to pay mind to those rumors. After all, that would mean your own mother haunted these dank, miserable passages, and that was a fate worse than death, you thought.

But Daryl knew this tunnel now, having made sure the path was clear and snuck his horse out to meet you at the end of the underpass just an hour before. Still, you found yourself not straying more than a foot from him, his broad, cloaked back becoming a strange source of comfort to you in this abyss of darkness. 

“You’re sure there are no dead ones in here?” you whispered. “It smells of… death.”

“I went through here twice… No walkers.”

“Walkers?”

“Dead ones.”

Oh. A colloquial term. 

Silence settled in again, with only the echoes of globs of water dripping onto the rough cobbled stone to fill the eerie space where words had provided some relief. In that silence, your anxiousness caught up with you―what if Elizabeth’s lie fell through? She’d informed the guards not to disturb you in your chambers, that you had fallen ill and needed rest. She left strict instructions not to check on you, for fear of contagion. And with your father out of town, there shouldn’t have been any chance for disturbances. Even so, the only thing more terrifying than this tunnel was the idea of having less freedom than you already did. Being confined to your bedchamber for the rest of your life, surely, would’ve been the punishment if the king discovered your escape. He wasn’t a cruel man, but his overbearing nature could inadvertently lead to such a cruel decision. 

When a horse’s neigh startled you from your thoughts, you stumbled forward to cling to the knight’s upper arm, which flexed and stiffened in response to your sudden movement. Your chest pressed firmly against his back, he felt you briefly shiver in fear, though as your senses came back to you, you chided yourself for your jumpiness. 

“S-sorry, Sir Daryl.”

If he wasn’t caught in a rather serious situation, he might’ve let his internal amusement at your persistent formality manifest itself in the form of a chuckle, but he only huffed instead. “Just Daryl.”

Blinking hard, you loosened your grip on his arm, reluctantly pulling yourself away. He seemed to radiate warmth, and this tunnel was so cold and frightening. “Sorry. Daryl.”

He peered over his shoulder to speak again. “Stop sayin’ sorry.”

With a sniffle, you nodded your head. “Sor―” You stopped yourself. “All right.”

The further you traveled, the louder the sounds of Daryl’s horse, which provided some comfort now. It meant you were getting closer to getting out of here, and closer to fresh air.

At the end of the tunnel, Daryl placed his torch in the iron sconce hanging on the wall of a modest wooden door, with a thick bar placed across to prevent the Dead (or alive) from getting in. There stood the knight’s horse, too, hardly visible in the blackness that matched his sleek, shiny coat. From what you could see, though, the horse was beautiful, with a long crimped mane of ebony and a long forelock draping messily, yet gracefully, over his eyes. Upon each leg was a slight feathering, just above his hooves, nearly cloaking them. 

“What a beautiful horse.” As he lifted the bar with a huff, he looked your way to see your hands caressing the animal’s neck, and his black nose buried in the loose tendrils of your hair. “Oh!” you laughed. “Friendly, too. What’s his name?”

Daryl wiped the sweat from his brow as he spoke bluntly. “Phantom.”

“Oh.” You sounded a little disappointed. “Well, that’s not a very friendly name for such a friendly horse.”

The knight scoffed as he took the horse’s reigns. “He ain’t friendly. He’s a warhorse.”

He didn’t expect such a look of excited curiosity to form upon your face. “Oh, a destrier? How grand.”

With one hand guiding the horse towards the door, the other unlatching the final lock, Daryl looked back at you. You could see a sliver of bright light pouring in through the thin line where the door was beginning to open. Of course, you’d seen light before, but not like this, not from this direction. Somehow, it was different. 

“You wanna stand around talkin’ about horses all day or you wanna go outside?”

The last thing you wanted to do was spend more time inside this rotten intestine of a tunnel. “Lead the way, Sir―I mean, Daryl.”

Trying to avoid the inevitable smirk that formed on his face, he pushed the door open further, slowly guiding Phantom into the light of day, which allowed the horse’s coat to shine an almost reddish chestnut tone. 

But the horse’s beauty was momentarily eclipsed by the magnificent glade of silver birch trees before you, a simple dirt path diverging through the forest. You’d seen these trees from high above, and from a great distance, outside your window, but never had you seen them so close, so almost within reach. Many times you’d reached your hand out, imagining you could touch the trees, but now, there was nothing standing between you and that forest. 

As you stepped forward, you relished in the feeling of dirt and leaves underfoot. You’d felt the ground before, in the garden and the courtyard, but this was something different, something new. In fact, you wanted to feel it on your bare skin, the closeness of the earth. 

While Daryl busied himself with readying the horse’s saddle, you were stripping yourself of your brown leather shoes, letting one bare foot take your first step as you worked on removing the other shoe. 

The knight looked wide-eyed at you, your feet now sinking into the dirt beneath you. “What the hell are you doin’?”

To his surprise, you let out a sing-song laugh as you took several more steps towards the forest. With your head down, your hair draping all around the sides of your face, you were focused on the movements of your feet, as if you could feel the sensation through your eyes. 

“I used to run around barefoot as a child,” you said, lifting your face to his. He was greeted by a wide, toothy grin, the likes of which he hadn’t seen upon your face. He’d seen the joyful expression upon your face when he offered to escort you outside the walls, but this was something else entirely, accompanied by bright, carefree eyes that captured the glow of the sunlight streaming down to consume the last of the early morning mist. “It’s just not the same in the courtyard at the castle.”

Your attention peeled away from the knight as you took in the trees all around you, tall and magnificent, surely hundreds of years old. The stories these trees could tell, the things they’d seen—you’d hoped that their knowledge would make up for your lack of it for the past ten years. If you couldn’t have seen such things, at least they had.

Absentmindedly, you meandered towards the trees, your arms outstretching the closer you got as you prepared to touch them. Daryl could only look on in slightly amused confusion at your wonderment for such mundane objects of nature, but he had to remember, it’d been a long time since you’d seen these things out in the wilds, outside of the manicured gardens and meticulously trimmed botanicals found within the walls of the castle to which you were confined. Still, the little laughs and sweet giggles that bubbled up from within you were undeniably delightful. 

But Daryl couldn’t let you spend all day admiring a silver birch tree. He hopped upon Phantom and instructed the beast forward, until a blackness swallowed your peripheral vision. As you blinked your attention towards the knight, his hand now outstretched to you, you noticed your shoes had been stuffed carefully inside the saddlebag near his thigh. 

“C’mon,” he said with a nod of his head. “There’s more than this.”

Your bare feet skipped delicately through waves upon waves of tall white beardtongue, the petals of which occasionally tickled your bare thighs when they got caught inside your gown. You had to admit the feeling gave you a rush so strong that you skipped faster through the meadow, careful not to trample over any of the wildflowers.

Daryl’s presence was a comfort to you, him standing at the edge of the meadow with Phantom’s reins in his hand, and your velvet teal cloak draped over the crook of his elbow as he watched dutifully. Though no walkers had come across your path yet, he worried most about the poor, soft soles of your feet being marred by the elements. These thoughts were always immediately dismissed, though, as his job wasn’t to fret over your cleanliness, but your life.

“Oh, Daryl!” you called out, alerting him a bit too well as he instinctively grasped for the hilt of the greatsword strapped to his belt. He huffed when he raised his eyes to see you entranced by the pale blue spotted butterfly resting upon your hand. “Look!”

Again, you let out a sweet laughter, the cadence of which tickled the knight’s spine like a feather being dragged languidly over each vertebra. With the tiny, delicate creature flapping its wings upon your hand, he admired your gentleness, how sweet your eyes turned when gazing upon the beautiful butterfly. It was strange—he’d been out here with you for almost two hours, and yet no walkers or bandits had crossed your path. It was almost as if your purity somehow deterred those things, those horrible things that plagued this land. Indeed, he’d never seen the world like this before, so much happier and sweeter than it had once been. Perhaps you didn’t need this world, but this world needed you. No, of course not. That was silly, he told himself, shaking his head to rid himself of his own thoughts. No one woman could change the world just by existing in it.

“Oh,” you sighed in a bittersweet tone. The butterfly flew away, your eyes following it for as long as it could before it disappeared beyond the hill. 

Don’t be sad, princess, he found himself thinking, his own heart seeming to sink a little when your eyes turned just a little soft with sorrow. Please don’t be sad. 

“Well,” you sighed again, your voice getting louder as you approached him, your hands lifting your gown just enough to allow you to step high over the tall flowers. As if by instinct, his eyes trailed to your bare ankles, then your calves, your knees, and just a sliver of your soft thighs… 

Stop looking, that rational voice in his head commanded. But the improper, unabashed voice replied, But, oh, milady… What fine legs you have.

“This meadow is beautiful, but there must be more to see.” You took your cloak from him to swing it around your shoulders and clasp it around your neck, then circled around the horse to retrieve your shoes from its saddle. “Where are we going next?”

Daryl thought for a moment, but his immediate attention was directed towards the gracefulness of your movements, the way your fingers curled through Phantom’s forelock and tickled underneath his chin, and the way you nuzzled your nose against his… How gentle the warhorse was, as if you had some soothing effect upon him. 

If Daryl was a superstitious man, he’d say you worked some kind of womanly magic upon your surroundings, wooing him and his horse and even the Dead. If he was a cruel man, he’d accuse you of being a witch, demanding to see if you bore the Devil’s mark or if you sank in water. Of course, he didn’t believe in sorcery or witches or Satan, but he did believe you had worked some kind of spell on him, one of a more corporeal nature. 

“Daryl?”

He cleared his throat as his senses came back to him. “Yes, I, um… I know of a lake nearby. Would that, um, suit you, your highness?” He tried to speak in his best chivalric tone, though he knew not why. He never cared much for that before, until right this moment, and it seemed almost against his will. Maybe witches were real, afterall. Still, he wasn’t about to rid himself of this warm, ticklish feeling in the pit of his stomach, even if it was the work of the Devil. 

A sweet, beautiful, kind agent of the Devil.

“A lake would be lovely,” you replied. 

At length, you walked alongside Daryl, who let you guide Phantom this time. You’d insisted upon walking to the lake, giving the poor horse a break from carrying the weight of the two of you. It was no disappointment to the knight, who found that he quite liked spending more time with you, prolonging his time outside the walls to hold your cloak as you frolicked or to kneel and let you hold onto his strong shoulder as you brushed the dirt off your feet. It almost sickened him how much he relished in being of service to you. 

And it was such a beautiful day, the perfect day for you to see the outside world. In your fascination, you were rendered quiet, turning in every direction to catch with your eyes every bird or deer or squirrel or insect that crossed your path. The woods were serene, too, much brighter and free of any pestilence that your father had so ominously warned you of. 

Indeed, you wondered where the Dead were. It seemed too good to be true, considering the horrible memories you had of that night your mother died, of seeing her getting pulled into a swarm of walkers as she reached her hand out to you, calling for you. You still remembered how you struggled to reach for her, your fingers just grazing her trembling hand before you were yanked away by a guard. 

Of course, you knew there was no way you could’ve saved her. Her neck and arms were already being feasted upon, spurts of blood shooting out and sprinkling in crimson globs upon your tear-stained cheeks, while her screams were increasingly drowned by the sound of her flesh tearing from her bones. When her body was taken in completely by the hoard, you heard one last scream—No, please, no!

As this memory inflicted itself upon you, the feeling akin to a knife in the chest, you stopped in your tracks, staring blankly at the vision before you that seemed to have crawled out of your head. Between the trees ahead of you, five or six of the dead lumbered clumsily over sticks and stones towards you. 

When the knight pushed you behind him, drawing his sword, you studied the appearances of the dead men with shock. They wore clothes just like any commoner, one even wearing a blacksmith’s apron, another wearing a simple white linen coif upon her head, not unlike the ones you owned, except yours weren’t caked in dried blood, but the similarity was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Dar-Daryl…” Your voice faltered as you backed away, your hands clinging tight to the reins on the horse. “What do we do?”

It hadn’t occurred to him that you didn’t know the first thing about walkers, how to kill them, how to avoid them. He should’ve told you. He planned on telling you, but he got… distracted. So distracted he’d forgotten of the Dead’s existence altogether.

“Just stay behind me,” he said. “If one comes at you, you run.”

Run? Run where? I do not know these woods… 

“All right.”

He held his sword with both hands, and you wondered how on Earth he could hold such a large thing, no doubt made of fine, heavy steel. He must’ve had a great deal of strength, not to mention the heavy armor he would carry in battle. Indeed, he was broad and seemed hearty enough to withstand almost anything. 

A sparkle of sunlight reflected off the silver blade as it sliced through a walker’s neck, severing the head in one fluid motion that caused you to gasp in horror at the sight. 

But Daryl moved so fluidly, with such ease and intensity. Every stroke was purposeful, and every kick and turn and step was made with confidence. As you watched in combined terror and amazement, you realized that he really was a great knight. His chivalry left much to be desired, but you could tell why he achieved his status as knight. Soon, the walkers were all headless, and he got to work plunging the blade of his sword directly into the creature’s severed heads, which appeared to still be alive. 

You leaned forward in awe, curious about how the heads could still be alive when severed from the body. 

But your thoughts ceased when a cold hand wrapped around your ankle, pulling you with great strength down to the forest floor. You came down with a yelp, both from the startling action and the feeling of your ankle twisting in an unnatural manner, creating an awful pain that traveled all the way up to the top of your head to send you nearly passing out.

But the lone, legless walker kept you awake, yanking at your leg with its teeth gnashing horribly, creating a terrible clicking sound with each attempt to take a bite of you.

You pulled away, kicking at the thing’s forehead to get it away from you, but it was relentless, and soon set its sights on your neck as its disgusting, rotting body began to climb up your torso, its mouth dripping foul blood over your surcote as you gasped and panted and screamed in fear.

In the distance, you heard the loud whinnying of Phantom, then the sound of his hooves against the dirt, getting further and further away. 

All this happened in a matter of milliseconds, with the knight moving quickly to tear the dead man away from you, throwing its growling body several feet away from you. With a grunt, he swung his greatsword overhead, bringing it down to slice the creature’s head vertically with a horrid squelch. 

The thing fell back in its final state of death, allowing Daryl to sheath his bloodied sword and hurry over to you, his gloved hands feeling all over your arms and legs and torso. Your eyes widened at the touches, how brazenly he handled you with his strong, filthy hands. 

“You bit?” he asked.

Oh. 

He kept feeling you, lifting your dress to examine your calves with a stoicism and seriousness you wouldn’t have expected from a man with his hands all over you. But then, this was a serious situation. Get your mind out of the gutter, you chided yourself. 

“N-no, I’m fine…” Dizzied from the sudden fall, you raised your hand to your forehead, then stroked it through your now wild hair. As you became aware of your body once again, you realized the dull ache surrounding your right ankle. “Oh, my… my ankle. It hurts.”

He lifted your gown again to examine your ankle, the skin around it inflamed and swollen, and it was angled rather sharply inwards. A grimace contorted the knight’s face. “Sprained,” he said. He knew that well, having seen the very minor injury many times in battle. Of course, if the worst injury one received was a sprained ankle, that was a blessing. 

As his hands cradled you underneath the underarms to lift you, he peered behind his shoulder with a deep huff. “Damn horse,” he cursed. 

Struggling to help lift yourself with your good leg, you realized, too, that the horse had run off in the midst of the chaos. “Oh, no! How are we going to—Oh!”

You felt caught in a whirlwind as the knight somehow slung you over his shoulder, his arm wrapped around the backs of your legs to hold you in place as he began to walk, not wasting any time to catch up to the horse. 

“What are you doing?!” you cried out in confusion. Your sight was momentarily shrouded in darkness as your face was buried in the wool of his cloak, but you lifted your head to see the ground moving beneath dizzyingly as you bounced against his back. “Are you… carrying me?”

“Gotta catch up to Phantom… Ain’t gettin’ anywhere very fast with you limpin’.” He punctuated his sentence with a strained grunt, then stopped briefly to bounce you until you were more securely draped over his broad shoulder. 

“How do you know where he went?”

“There’s a cottage not far from here. He knows to go there.” That, and he could track the horse’s trail quite easily. 

You remained quiet for a while, until he hitched you up again. “You know,” you remarked, “this is not how you carry a princess. A rather large sack of potatoes, yes, but not a princess.”

He tried to hinder his laughter. It was difficult. 

“How did you find this place?” you asked, sat upon a dusty old floor pillow beside the warm, burning hearth.

The cottage was small, just one room. You’d never seen such a modest home, with straw blanketing the dirt floor and a small hole in the roof to allow the smoke from the hearth to escape, with only one small window to let in a tiny stream of afternoon light. 

You watched Daryl crush some mix of pungent herbs, water, and oil with a mortar and pestle, his hair hanging like chocolate colored silken drapes over his concentrated face. 

He looked up for a moment, his hooded eyes peeking out between those brunette strands of hair. He chewed his lip, eying your swollen ankle. The guilt hadn’t stopped washing over him since it happened. How could he be so negligent to let you get hurt? 

“I, uh… Found it a long time ago, when the plague broke out.” With the herbs crushed into an oily paste, he carried the stone mortar over to you, kneeling down to lift your ankle onto his thigh. You watched curiously as his fingers scooped up a glob of the slightly purple-toned concoction, then spread the paste over your swollen ankle. “Was fighting the Dead,” he continued as he rubbed more of the coarse cream over your skin. “A swarm cornered me here. Wasn’t much safer, though… An old man and his wife, but the old man had turned, was just about to take a bite of the woman, but I put him down.”

He noticed your shiver, then crossed the room to quickly procure a thick woolen blanket from the small straw bed. 

“Here.” He draped the warm fabric over your shoulders. “Sorry it’s not much.”

“It’s quite all right… What happened to the old lady?” 

He shook his head as he returned to his treatment of your wound. “She was already bit. I was too late… Cared for ‘er as long as I could, but no one knew back then that even just one bite means you’re dead. The fever killed ‘er… And then, I didn’t know she’d turn, too. Found out real quick that’s how it spreads, and that you gotta kill the brain.” He gestured accordingly to his own head. “And now this place is mine, I guess.”

“I thought you lived on your lord’s fief?” you asked. “You live here?”

He used his teeth to rip a piece of cotton gauze from its roll, then lifted your ankle from its place on his leg to wrap it and conceal the herbal remedy. “I travel between,” he said simply. “Stayin’ in one place never suited me.”

To an extent, you understood that. Though you always valued your home, you’d been stuck in one place for so long that it became less of a home and more of a hostage situation. “You must value your freedom,” you remarked. “Tell me, what did you put on my ankle?”

He scoffed through an ever-so-slight, crooked smirk. “You ask many questions, princess.”

A rosy pink blush bloomed upon your cheeks, accompanied by a gentle heat that wasn’t just radiating from the nearby flame of the hearth. “Well,” you said, straightening your back as his words reminded you of your status, “I think I’m entitled to know what kind of remedy you’ve applied to my wound, knight.”

He gently replaced your skirt over your ankles as he spoke, listing the ingredients. “Arnica, witch hazel, lavender… All good for pain and swelling.”

“Oh? You’re skilled in herbalism?”

“Another question…”

You tilted your head in faux offense at the observation. “I’m entitled to ask whatever questions I wish, knight.”

With a huff, he leaned back to scoot himself onto his own pillow, then kicked off his heavy leather boots. “I wouldn’t say ‘skilled’,” he replied at length. “Just… somethin’ I had to learn.”

Curiosity made you raise an eyebrow at that, and your prying was certainly nowhere near its end. “Why?”

Any other person had asked him this many questions about himself, he might’ve lost his nerve and said some rather vulgar things, but you were a lady. More than that, you were a princess. More than that, you were… something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He knew you were beautiful, of course. He had eyes. There was more that drew him to you, that made him care what you thought of him and made him care about you. 

Despite his usual tendency to become frustrated at this kind of questioning, he couldn’t bring himself to feel agitated at all. In fact, he felt at ease, like he wanted to tell you about himself. Somehow, that look in your eyes told him you weren’t just asking because it seemed the proper thing to do—you were asking him these things because you cared to know about him. No one had cared in that way before. Maybe the duke came close, but he didn’t have this effect on the knight. It was unique to you, this wave of earnestness and openness. For such a closed-off man, he found it very hard to keep his guard up much longer. 

Still, he wondered, if he let his guard down too far, could he stop himself from scaring you away? You were a sensitive thing, he’d realized. You were innocent, too. The things he’d seen and done would surely frighten you, chase you away from him when he’d only just begun to grow fond of you in some strange way. The more you knew about him, the more you’d find him repulsive, he thought. And yet, it was still so tempting. 

“Left home when I was sixteen,” he said. “Had to learn how to take care of myself. Well, learned most of that when I was...” He had to stop himself, his lips hanging open slightly in midair. If he kept going, he might’ve revealed too much, how “pathetic” his life had been. Surely you wouldn’t understand. You’d think he was trying to earn your pity, but all he wanted, as he looked into your eyes and melted into them like they were two pools of warm liquid honey, was to know that you cared about the words that struggled to will themselves into existence. Those soft, warm eyes would prove successful in swallowing him whole, into an abyss of unabashed honesty. Why was he bearing his soul? What good would it do? He didn’t know. In fact, he was sure it would only cause you to look down upon him, but he was wise enough to know that no one before had ever really asked about these things. No one before had ever cared like this. That was why he was hesitant—it was simply uncharted territory. But, then again, everything about you was uncharted territory, and if you asked, it must’ve meant you cared.

“When I was a child, my mother died,” he said. “My father couldn’t handle it… Turned to the bottle, became a lousy sot.” He swallowed hard as a bit of bile came to rise in his throat. He wasn’t sure what came over him—except, well, he’d never spoken these words out loud before. Certainly not in front of a princess. You didn’t stop him, though. In fact, you held a soft gaze, encouraging him with your pleading eyes for him to continue, not with pity, but with sympathy. How strange, you opened him up with just your kind, understanding face. “He, uh, would hurt me… Enough to break skin.” He gestured loosely towards the leftover salve. “This stuff would help with the bruises. Needed other things for the cuts, but I know all of it. Helps in war, too.”

Understanding his hesitancy to speak more about his childhood, you inquired about that—war. Perhaps it wasn’t a much more cheerful subject, but there was something you’d been wondering about since you first met the mysterious knight. 

“War… Is that how you got your scar?”

It took him a moment to register your question, as he had so many scars now, it was hard to keep track of them all, but you gestured your finger to point towards his face, and he cursed himself for not thinking of the long red stripe running down over his left eye, At times, you yourself had forgotten it was there, its pigment blending in with the tone of his tanned skin in certain lights, but it had intrigued you since you first saw him. 

“It’s a battle scar,” he answered. “Yeah…” 

“I read that battle scars are honorable to knights.”

“They are,” he responded quickly, as if defending himself, despite a lack of anything to really defend. But his tone soon shifted as he processed your words. “You… read about knights?”

Swallowing hard, you averted your gaze to try to find some respite from the embarrassment of admitting that you found his kind to be fascinating. To say you read about knights would be an understatement. Your father housed an impressive collection of literature in his cabinet, many of which you’d secretly take to the solar and read by candlelight in the wee hours of the morning when a particularly restless sleep became too much to bear. Among those books were the most popular chivalric romances—The Knight’s Tale, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Le Morte d’Arthur, Erec and Enide, Sir Eglamour of Artois… Daryl wasn’t like any of those knights, though. He was… better, you decided. He was real.

“I do,” you spoke shakily. “I—I… know a bit.” You never stuttered. Why were you stuttering? Eugene had all but trained you out of the habit in your public speaking lessons. He hadn’t prepared you for the intensity of Sir Daryl’s gaze, how it reduced your poise to a shiver. And yet still, you were the most poised woman he ever met. 

In fact, he didn’t notice your stuttering at all. It was hard to let anything distract him from every word you said, every open and close of your plush lips that were made glossy and smooth from suet and marjoram, with just a touch of red wine to paint a delicious tint across the plump skin. The musky amber scent of civet oil mingled with the floral marjoram to tickle his nose so heavenly, even from this distance. Each movement of your lips only carried the scent further, like it was floating on angel’s wings to him, and only him. For a brief, anxious moment, he pondered upon the taste, and the texture… How his lips would feel against yours. 

Lust is a sin, he told himself, despite having not paid a visit to a chapel since his knighthood. Still, a knight should respect the laws of God. Like all the knights in the stories you read, he was beginning to face temptation. 

With a quiet huff, he yanked himself from his intrusive thoughts to face you with a slight smirk. “I guess you’re fond of Sir Lancelot?” he asked. 

Not at all, you thought. I am more fond of Sir Daryl. 

It was twilight when you arrived back at the castle, slipping through the Tombs and coming out into the gloomy dungeons in the dark underbelly of the keep. To distract the guards that stood near your chambers, Daryl alerted them to a “walker that must’ve slipped through the walls,” but used the opportunity to sneak you into your room. 

The knight ushered you in the room with a frantically waving hand. With a slight limp from your injury, you stumbled in laughing. Giddy, that was the only way to describe it. You were giddy from adrenaline, and felt a surge of fiery energy flow through you like a match being struck. Indeed, the whole day had been exhilarating, though terrifying at points. Ultimately, it was everything you’d dreamed it would be, and more. 

And you couldn’t help but admit that it felt wonderful to break the rules, to do something reckless for once. You were a little afraid it would become an addictive habit, but it was worth it. To see the things you saw, to behold new landscapes and to feel unburdened by the oppressive walls of that old gray castle… Oh, it was a wonderful feeling.

You couldn’t contain your excitement much longer—when the heavy wooden doors closed with a quiet clack of the latch, you opened your arms to rush towards the knight with an exuberant, but hushed, “We did it!”

His eyes widened as he felt your warm, soft arms around his torso, his chest pressed against yours so close that he could feel your swift heartbeat pounding against your ribcage. Whatever overcame you, it must’ve been born of your excitement, and he couldn’t hide the fact that he was excited, too. For what, he did not know. The day was over, his task was complete. He’d taken you outside the kingdom, allowed you to do as you please as he kept a watchful eye, keeping you safe from harm… Well, there were some slip-ups, but he was successful in his mission. 

Perhaps he was excited because he, too, felt the adrenaline rush, the excursion having been the most treacherous crime he’d ever committed, and he’d committed a few. Petty theft and a few drunken brawls, to be specific, but you’d never know that. Not as long as he could help it. 

Despite his hands and arms floating awkwardly around the curves of your waist, he didn’t dare touch you. There was an innate desire to, of course, but it wouldn’t be right. None of this was right, in truth, but there was no going back now, and he didn’t want to go back. He didn’t regret a thing, and that scared him a little bit. How on Earth could that scare him? Nothing scared him. His own feelings baffled him, especially when that musky amber scent came back with a succulent vengeance to assault his senses with the most indulgent perfume he’d ever had the pleasure of falling victim to. For a moment, he closed his eyes, taking in a quiet, deep inhale. That was the closest he could let himself get to doing anything he might’ve been wanting to do.

When you realized he wasn’t holding you back, you pulled away from the stoic man. Clarity returned to replace the intoxication of the adrenaline, and you cleared your throat to change the atmosphere back to that of knight and princess, not acquaintances of equal standing.

“Thank you, Sir Daryl,” you said. He winced for a moment at the title, having gotten a little accustomed to the simple name upon your lilted voice. Now, it was formal again, direct yet gentle. It still sounded beautiful, the way you spoke, but it was different. Only now, he noticed that it softened even more, as if your words were resting on downy pillows that filled with increasingly plush goose feathers each time you spoke to him. “Today was the best day of my life.”

Quite frankly, he found that very hard to believe. So hard to believe, in fact, that he let out a puff of air between lips that formed a wry smile. “What’re you talkin’ about, woman?”

“Woman?”

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes… What I mean to say is, what you’ve done for me today was what I’ve wanted for so long, and now I feel as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Thank you.”

A pregnant silence hung in the air between you before you turned to cross the room over to your vanity, where your jewelry casket sat. You rummaged through to once again procure his payment. 

“No, your highness,” spoke the knight, his steps getting heavy as he approached you from behind. “I told you, I can’t accept that.”

You turned to face him with a smile, and a glimmering ruby brooch encrusted in silver filigree, characterized by delicate, swirling arabesques. “Nonsense,” you replied. “Please, knight. It would please me so for you to take this… And, there’s always more… For next time.”

Raising his eyes from the gem in your hand, he searched your gaze for earnestness. Indeed, you looked not unlike you had that night you begged him. You had that desperation in your eyes, that lust for freedom and exploration. The difference was, there was now a smile upon your face. That was even more tempting for him. A smile like that was dangerous, as he was sure you could just about convince him of anything. 

“Next time?”

“Yes, next time my father is gone. Of course, if you’re agreeable to it.”

Agreeable to it? Your beauty was intoxicating, and exposure to it was like radiation—surely no good for him in the long run. That all being said, there was something tempting about the danger of it all, the wrongness. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, not since before he was bound by the laws of chivalry. It was wrong of him to do this with you, but it had an effect like theriac; it was both an antidote and an addiction. 

With a hefty huff, he took the jewel from your hand, stuffing it into the simple embroidered chaneries hanging from his belt. 

That night, he agreed to another excursion, whenever that might be. Now, he seemed to be officially at your every beck and call, waiting for the signal to come and rescue you from your entrapment. In a way, he himself had become trapped, a chaperon condemned to serve you until your whims ebbed and flowed away from him and his outside world that he knew so well. It wasn’t this in itself that frightened him, though—it was the fact that when he thought of the next time he’d have to be your escort, subject to your will, he smiled. This realization of his devotion to you made the subconscious depths of his mind aware of one important thing: you weren’t just any princess, you were his princess.

~

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Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader insert #daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus x female reader #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus x you #norman reedus x y/n #norman reedus x reader insert #merciless beauty series #theteasetwrites fanfiction

[arcane-abomination]

I recommend reading my blog on Void Magick before this one. As it explains the basics of Void that will not be covered here. This may cause some readers to be a little lost.

Leviathan’s Guidance

This information on the void was presented to me when I descended into a deep gnosis to make contact with lord Leviathan. He taught me the construction of the void and helped me to understand its makeup a little better. This seemed to be the missing piece I’ve heard many people talk about when traversing the void. And while it still holds truth that the void’s appearance is reflected in the individuals own perspective, it’s still important to understand the general structure of this vastly mysterious space.

I have taken the liberty to attribute my own terminology to each part that was shown to me in an attempt to bring further understanding and much easier categorization to the plains themselves, but you’re free to disregard these terms if they don’t suit you. In all there are 3, categorized by the upper, middle and lower spaces represented by the colors White, Grey, and Black. Now, please take note that these colors are rather arbitrary in the long run as each level presents itself uniquely to the individual. These are simply the product of my own journey, what appeared to me and thus how I label and associate the structure of the void that I experienced.

The Atherial Plain

We begin in the upper level I call the Atherial plain. Aptly named because it’s associated with the color white. While in this plain it appeared to me as though I was walking in the sky. It was bright, with clouds beneath me and around me. And all manner of things hung in the air, moving and shining without constitution or purpose. At least none that I could see. Stars, planets, comets, orbs, and a multitude of other items and creatures to unique to accurately convey in words, shimmering and shifting endlessly. There was no rest here, no silence. There was noise, endless whispers in the wind, music in the distance, and the random bustle of the many object’s collisions with one another. It was beautiful but intense. An energy compelling me to take action, not to wait or calculate. Just simply do without thought or meaning. This is the realm of everything and all things. Of motion, sound & fullness.

The Abyssal Plain

Or next stop is the lowest level, I call the Abyssal plain. You descend downwards into this place, into the vastness of an empty space. The association here is the color black, and all manner of silence, quiet contemplation, and letting go completely hang in the air. Energy here compells you to empt yourself of all things, and simply wait. All around me was blackness, a deep black that went beyond the understanding of simple darkness. Beneath my feet was an ink-colored ocean. Still, and calm, but full of power and strength laying in wait. It was from this ocean that lord Leviathan arose and greeted me, teaching me of the void’s structure. You see, like most people, it was this realm I came to first, like most people do. In fact it was the only real I had ever come to, until my work with Leviathan began.

It seems most of us who work with the void descend down into the abyss and the reason for this is simple. As mortal beings our subconscious has been taught that when we go up we come down. Gravity is always pulling at us. So, when we enter into the void, we can unconsciously descend, especially when we are overwhelmed with the intensity the void can bring. Once inside that comfortable place of familiarity it can be hard to ascend, especially since naturally speaking, falling down is easier than climbing up.

All in all, the energy of this realm beckoned me to listen, to wait, and patiently calculate my next move. It’s a plain completely opposite of its upper Aetherial counterpart. A realm of Stillness, Silence, and emptiness.

The Echo Plain

This was the final plain I visited, named the Echo plain, represented as the color Grey. It’s a special plain, a space full of liminal energy from the overlapping of the upper and lower plains. It was the most intense of the three, resembling a foggy wasteland with the faint light of the Atherial floating high above and the deep darkness of the abyss far below. The ground was as reflective as a mirror yet as clear as a window, that rippled like water wherever I took step. It was a confusing place, a space at which energy contradicted itself. It wanted me in motion and stillness, silent and loud, empty and full all at once. I felt like I was being pulled apart and smooshed together at the same time. It was confusing and overwhelming, but then…in a single moment, all the pieces fell into place.

Before me stood a group of creatures. Both beautiful and hideous all at once. I understood almost immediately what they were. Epithets…epithets of myself. Bits and pieces of who I was represented before me in kind. Some smiled warmly, some grimaced, and others showed no emotions at all. We did not speak to one another…we didn’t need to. But it was from that brief acknowledgment that I understood. This was the realm of reflection. A space where the conscious and subconscious became one, echos of one being existing in symbolic detachment from itself. None of us looked the same and yet we were. All knowing and understanding yet complete strangers to each other.

This is the space of contemplation and action. A realm in which one could truly reach into themselves and strengthen, build, heal, and empower in every way imaginable. A space not many seemed to know existed. Ascending and descending past it in their journeys through the void. It’s a testament to our need to learn quickly, and our unfocused and often misplaced goals. Sometimes we need to stop and look inward, to truly meet ourselves head on.

In Conclusion

The void is a wonderfully powerful and mysterious place. How these realms look to you and what you feel will ultimately be tied to your own perspective. How one sees the void isn’t always how another does. The lower realm may appear white to some instead of black. What makes it the abyss is not its color but it’s emptiness. How one acknowledges and uses that emptiness is always going to be unique to them.

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