#the greatest failure would be to leave you alone again at the end

[ky-landfill]

Some angsty pit withdrawal Jason and batfam? 🤲

“Dad…?” I’m here, Jay.

#jason todd #bruce wayne #pit withdrawal #chronic illness #:( #the greatest failure would be to leave you alone again at the end #lazarus pit withdrawal illness #now serving: angst #SORRY #nga mihi <3 #prompt response #whumptober2023 #day 10

[derrickwildsun]

The obsession with wanting "consequences" to TOTK's ending are infuriating and shallow. (Massive TOTK Spoilers ahead)

"Why did they have to change Zelda back?"

Because her kingdom NEEDS her. Everyone, not just Link, is fighting together to get her back. NPCs tell you about things she did in between BOTW and TOTK to help them, stressing her importance as a leader. One of the schoolchildren waits outside her house every day in anticipation of her return. Speaking of which, Zelda was able to take her nerdy interests and love of learning and channel that love into bringing improvements to Hyrule via establishing a school and a research team. The kingdom is worse off without her. The title "Tears of the Kingdom" is important because the tears are Zelda's, and she IS the kingdom since she's all that's left of the royal family. It's kind of like the story of the Fisher King: the King is the land, and if the King is sick/ailing, so too is the land.

The main theme of the game is community. Director Hidemaro Fujibayashi had this to say about the game's core theme:

Everyone working together to push back the forces of evil and save their homeland. It's emphasized that Link (and many of the characters, especially the sages) can't do the job alone; he needs help. This even extends to the ending. Link's Recall wouldn't have been sufficient to change Zelda back; Rauru and Sonia amplify his power the same way Sonia and Zelda amplified Rauru's light beam in the Gerudo Invasion memory. Likewise, Rauru and Sonia couldn't bring Zelda back because Link had the necessary ingredient: a motive in the form of his love for Zelda. Just like how Zelda found the necessary motive to unlock her powers and save Link in BOTW, so too does Link accomplish the same in TOTK.

Leaving Zelda as a dragon would have contradicted her character development in BOTW, which amounted to her learning to move past her failure and loss from the Calamity. She also, um, can't figure out "what kind of person she's going to be and what she is going to say" if she's a dragon. The end of her arc amounts to her taking up the role of leadership and restoring her kingdom with the help of Link, the sages, et al. Again, the theme of community, connections, and working together to overcome obstacles.

"Why couldn't she come back with dragon features?"

Sonia explains that Recall recalls an object's memory, meaning the only result of the Literal Triforce of Link, Sonia, and Rauru using an amplified Recall on Zeldragon was to return her to the state she was before she ate the stone. This is why her stone is tied around her neck at the end. She couldn't have leftover dragon parts because she was never a dragon to begin with. Also, the greatest loss one could suffer from becoming a dragon is, as emphasized by Mineru, the loss of self, not the body.

"Why does Link get his old arm back?"

The amplified Recall restored it. Also, thematically, it works better for Link to grab hold of Zelda's hand with the hand with which he initially failed to grab her at the start of the game.

"Changing Zelda back nullifies her sacrifice."

No, it doesn't. She fully accepted she would never change back. She wasn't thinking about the possibility of Link saving her because as far as she knew that was impossible; she made her decision out of love for her kingdom and Link. In the end, she succeeded in her mission (as did Link). If she made the sacrifice with the assumption Link would save her, then I could see this argument holding water. But Link was never going to give up on her because he LOVES her. Even she's in disbelief at having changed back (and very thankful because now she's home). In the secret ending, she says, "I never thought I would stand in this place again." We feel the weight of her sacrifice in the final memory, and the ending provides an emotional release because we the player repay her for all she did to help us and because she more than proved her heroism. I liken it to the ending of Pinocchio (1940) wherein the Blue Fairy changes Pinocchio into a real boy as a reward for giving his life to save Geppetto's.

"Her not remembering being a dragon is a copout."

Mineru explains very clearly that becoming a dragon means losing one's self. You lose all your memories and indentity; you cease to be the person you were. So, yes, she wouldn't remember being a dragon flying around for centuries. But you know what she would remember because it happened before she lost all sense of self?

Though not outright stated, it's clear from the character animation that Zelda was in immense pain as the transformation began to take effect. Also, you can tell she was absolutely terrified in that moment. She knew what she was doing was necessary to save her kingdom, but she's thinking, "Shit, these are my last few seconds before I lose myself forever. I'll never see my loved ones again: Link, Purah, Robbie, Riju, Sidon, the schoolchildren in Hateno, etc. And I'm doing this all on a MASSIVE gamble and act of faith that Link will find me, reclaim the Master Sword, and destroy the Demon King." That's not the kind of traumatic event you'd easily forget. She'll probably be contemplating "Wow, if Link hadn't been so determined, I wouldn't be here now and that would have been my last moment alive," for some time. And no, you don't need to see her suffering psychological effects in-game; that's best left up to the viewer's imagination; there's only so much story they can cram into the game before it's overstuffed.

"Why did Rauru and Sonia come back to restore Zelda?"

Because they loved her, and Zelda loved them. From the moment Zelda met them, they promised to find a way to return her home to reunite with Link. They have an emotional (and familial) connection to her. By helping Link restore her, they're extending a final act of love to the princess they adore so much. It's a beautiful sendoff to them, because unlike Zelda's biological parents (Zelda's mother died when she was six, and Rhoam was too busy being a king to actually be a father to her), they were able to provide for and help her on her journey. It would have been a mistake to not bring them back to wrap up that plot point.

I think a lot of nerds suffer from Cinema Sins/TV Tropes brain: only able to deal in the most literal without any room for meaning. "Punishing" Zelda for her sacrifice wouldn't have added anything to her arc, as the whole point of her character isn't to be a stoic symbol for her people to mindlessly obey. The game deals in second chances, not just for Zelda obviously but also for Link. Link gets a second chance at the end to catch Zelda to make up for not catching her at the beginning; that's parallel storytelling with actual deliberate meaning behind it. Otherwise, the story amounts to, "He fucked up and there's nothing he can do about it." Remember that much like Zelda, Link had enormous pressure placed on him from a young age. He was expected to carry his duties out lest the entire kingdom be DOOMED FOREVER. But with TOTK's ending, he can realize that he doesn't have to worry about that pressure since no one's forcing it on him anymore. He can shape his own destiny and bounce back from a mistake; he doesn't have to lose Zelda forever.

I've already explained that the power Link, Sonia, and Rauru use is just an amplified Recall, but technical explanations aside, it's mainly the sort of scene that's driven more by emotions than by "logic." A good example of a scene that relies on the emotions of the story to carry it is the climax of Disney's Dumbo (1941). Animation critic/historian Michael Barrier writes:

If you're the sort of person who questions why Dumbo is able to fly without the "magic feather" or how Dorothy Gale goes home just by clicking her heels and repeating the mantra "There's no place like home," you probably shouldn't be watching movies.

Special thanks to @avalypuff, @blueskittlesart, @thecagedsong, @aquaticpal, and @nolongerapileofashprobably for their posts on the subject; all of you made some excellent insights on the ending and how it ties in with the game's themes. I'll go ahead and link to said posts for further reference:

#princess zelda #totk spoilers #zelda totk #tears of the kingdom #the legend of zelda #nerds please stop learning media literacy from cinema sins and tv tropes #this post took a lot out of me #but i had to get it off my chest #a darker sadder ending would not have worked thematically

[darkdevasofdestruction]

When the Wild Wind Blows ~ Negan Smith x Reader

Summary: A little after Lucille’s death, Negan finds a lone woman who asks to become his companion for the sake of survival the newly-arrived apocalypse. Together, they brave many challenges and their bond tightens, until a hoard separates them for an indefinite amount of time. With both thinking the other dead, they find new groups... Until they find each other once again, in the the midst of war.

They were supposed to go on for the rest of their lives. Isn’t that what they vowed to each other when they got married? That they will be forever together, until death do ‘em part? They should have changed that stupid vow. Something like - Even after death takes ‘em, or something. Anything! Anything that will ensure Lucille doesn’t leave him. He was so angry that she left him like that.

Negan sigh, stroking his bat as he looked into the small fire with dead eyes. He never imagined his life would end up like this. He never imagined his wife, his Lucille, the love of his life... Would die.

He was a prick. A shit head. He cheated on her multiple times, with her best friend no less. He deserved all the worst thing to happen to him - Divine punishment? By fire be purged... Was that how it went? Maybe. He deserved all that. 

But Lucille didn’t deserve all the pain she went through.

She didn’t deserve all the agony HE put her through... The supposed loyal, loving husband... Who was nothing more than an irresponsible piece of shit deadbeat husband who wasted his life away cheating and playing video games. He was the biggest failure in this world, and yet, despite everything, Lucille still stuck by his side, as if he was the one hurt, not her.

He didn’t deserve an angel like her, and he’ll never meet anyone like her ever again.

The news of her terminal diagnostic killed him much before this walker Apocalypse even started... But if these dead fuckers would have just stayed in their graves, his Lucille would have had a chance of survival. Go do her chemo and radiotherapy at the hospital, maybe do the surgery... Everything that needed to be done. And he would be there with her through it all. He knew the nasty side effects of the therapy - He wasn’t going to abandon her again. He mistreated her once - Greatest mistake of his life - But being met with the fatality of the situation, he couldn’t imagine his life going on without her. 

There was no life without Lucille.

‘Please don’t leave me like this  ♡‘ she wrote multiple times on the walls, before killing herself in bed, not before forgetting to keep herself bound and head covered, so she wouldn’t end up hurting him.

‘Please don’t leave me like this  ♡‘ she wanted him to destroy her dead body, to make sure she doesn’t end up as some disfigured dead shell of her former self, going around and killing people who have every chance of living.

‘Please don’t leave me like this  ♡‘ even in death, she wanted him to live... Even without her... Live for her as well.

‘Please don’t leave me like this  ♡‘ even watching him from Heaven, Lucille was cursing him to a life without her body in his arms, without her sweet voice calling out his name, and her hands roaming through his hair... Her honey laugh whenever he’d crack some of his stupid jokes...

‘Please don’t leave me like this  ♡‘ ... I would never leave you... But Lucille... What about me...? Now it is me, who is all alone, in this vast world... What reason is there to live anymore? There is no life without you... Lucille... Come back to me, please... I miss you so much... I love you so much...

Lucille...

Please don’t leave me like this.

It was always the Sun setting, and the Moon rising up on the sky and the Stars twinkling brightly that it reminded him of all the woes that his shattered heart was feeling. He was so absorbed in his own wallowing and sorrows... It was already a whole month passing, yet the pain didn’t diminish in the slightest. He was so preoccupied with his self-pitying, that he didn’t hear the soft rustle of the bushes, nor the light steps made onto the small twigs and the dead, crunching leaves.

It took a few approaching noises to make him finally snap his lethargic gaze up from the crackling of the burning wood, only to hear the faintest gasp. The was a figure there, hiding behind a tree - How silly. Negan narrowed his eyes to get a better look at the silhouette failing to pathetically to hide behind a tree far slimmer than her own body... But by the way the woman was peeking like a child, and the way her very long hair was swaying with the breeze out of the hiding spot... She must have been very aware of her position.

“Come out. I can see you.” he called out to her, but she merely leaned more to the side. “I know.” her voice sounded timid, yet somehow, it held some kind of... What was it... Defiance? No - He was a teacher, he knew what defiance meant when kids got bratty. It was a sort of confidence that she held, despite her fear of approaching him, almost like a wild animal, starving and seeing food for the first time. “If you know, why are you still hiding?” he asked, propping his bat to the ground and leaning his jaw on the handle. “I’m watching you.” she explained, not budging. “Watching me?” Negan asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “What for? Are you some Myers-level stalker? I’m no babysitter, I assure you... But I did teach kids before. Does that count?” he barked a laugh. “I don’t have a knife. Or a mask. Sorry to ruin your fantasy.” she huffed. “I’m trying to assess whether or not I should approach you.” “And what has your... Assessing concluded?” the corner of his mouth twitched upwards - For once, his mind was being distracted with something other than despair and misery. “... Inconclusive.” she muttered. “I could be dangerous, y’know? I have a bat - And it has barbed wire wrapped around it. One single hit, and you’d be dead. Care to re-assess?” he chuckled, almost villainously. “You have a weapon to defend yourself against walkers and other human enemies alike. Others have machetes. Some have guns... Machine guns... Rifles. Everyone has a weapon. You’re not special.” though her words sounded snarky and insulting, her tone was calm and sincere - She was just awfully blunt, despite how much she looked like a scared little baby fawn. Hilarious. “Do you?” the man was met with silence. “I guess not.” “Whether I tell you or not, I’d still be putting myself to a disadvantage by confirming information about myself. I don’t want to compromise my position.” she explained strategically. “You’re already at a disadvantage. I could both outrun and overpower you. There’s little a weapon would do to aid you.” the girl remained quiet a bit more. “Why did you approach me?” “I...” there goes that previously shy demeanour. “I want to join your group.” “There’s no group to join, darling, sorry to disappoint. Just lil’ ol’ me.” she still nodded. “That’s fine too. Anything is better than being alone.” her declaration stung Negan’s heart bitterly.  “Ain’t wrong with that one.” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “Aren’t you afraid I’d kill you?” she hung her head. “Come closer, let me have a better look at you.” it only made her hide back behind the tree completely. “Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you away like that.” she still didn’t budge. “I won’t hurt you.” “Will you let me join you?” she asked again, still not unveiling herself properly. “Fine, yeah, sure. Like you said - Ain’t so great being alone. Trust me, I’d know.” “Promise.” she sounded demanding, almost harsh even. “Promise? Ha! How childish of you!” he laughed once again, but he noticed the girl didn’t move at all. “What, you really want me to promise? That’s silly. I could easily break the promise anyway, nothing is keeping me from doing that.” still no move. “Why do you want me to promise so badly anyway?” “Because if you promise, then I have a reason to trust you - Then, if you betray me, it means that you broke your promise - Thus, it isn’t my fault that I trusted you, but your fault for being a jerk and breaking your promise to me.” Negan remained quiet for a few seconds, even unable to blink. Though he found some reason behind her words, they sounded like something the little girls he used to teach would say. It seemed to Negan that, with no means of defending herself, and finding him somewhat reasonable, this was her only means of surviving. How adorable. “You’re not really all that smart, are you?” he found himself asking, though without much thinking. “No - In fact, I am smart. I used to be a doctor, I worked hard, studied a lot. I was actually pretty good. Graduated among the top 50 or something. From an academic point of view, I am smart, and I know that. From a wisdom side, I, also, consider myself pretty smart, based on how everyone would come to me for advice.” Negan never expected such a calculated refuting. “But this isn’t the world we were brought up in. No amount of strategy games, apocalypse movies or rational, logical ideas can really guarantee you 100% survival chances.” she voice lowered. “I’m a frail, lone woman, also weaponless and with awful orientation skills. What chances do you think I have to live, even if I make all the stereotypically smart choices? There’s only so much I can run, hide, and live on air alone. The only smart choice I have left is to find someone who still has his humanity intact, at least to some degree, and find a way to stick by their side.” Negan sighed and nodded his head before he waved his hand at her to come over. “Fine, I promise I won’t hurt you. You can join me, do what you want.” how could he doom a young woman to her death by doing something as cruel as rejecting to protect her? He already let the most important person in his life down... Was this his chance to redemption? Was this a sign from Lucille, to keep on going?

Slowly, the young woman snapped her head left and right cautiously, before carefully stepping towards the man - Still weary at first, but she ended up towering over the fire awkwardly. Did she... Did she need some kind of invitation to sit down?  No, wait - From the way her eyes were flickering on high alert to each and every inch of his little camp, she was scanning every little thing - That, and she genuinely seemed socially awkward.

“Thanks.” she muttered. Quickly, Negan extended his hand, showing a seat for her to take, on the stump opposite of his log. She sat down, huddling by the fire. Now, Negan could get a better look at her. Her beautiful, long hair was a mess, but somehow, it worked, giving her a wild beauty look. She had no make up, save for the dirt and sweat caked on her skin and clothes for being away from home for so long. Her clothes were comfortable, but somewhat chic - A pair of jeans, nice on the leg, but not skinny - And she had some kind of charm, hanging from the loops on the waist. She had a simple black shirt and a cardigan over it - It was pretty long, and she used the sleeves to cover her hands entirely. But despite the casual yet still pretty elegant outfit, Negan spotted golden jewellery gracing her neck, fingers and wrists. Golden, with black gems. Did she use to be rich? Or did she just like dolling herself up? Was she on a date when all hell broke loose? 

There was a long silence, with Negan staring uncomfortably long at the girl, and her staring back, a sour look on her face. “I don’t appreciate being stared at. Please stop.” Negan smirked at her. “Can’t blame a man for looking at a pretty woman, can you?” “Yes, I can, and I will. You’re being creepy.” she deadpanned, making the man laugh more. “You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you, doll?” he found himself leaning forward, towards the fire. “Y/N.” she said. “My name is Y/N. Call me that.” though she wasn’t using a demanding, ordering tone, he still felt somehow inclined to do as she said. “Y/N. What a pretty name for a pretty girl.” Negan watched with amusement as she sighed in exasperation. “I haven’t taken a bath in over a month. I’m filthy, and I’m pretty sure that, if walkers could smell, they would all hoard over to tear me apart. No need to continue this whole gimmick of yours, it’s ridiculous and you’re making me uncomfortable.” she ran a hand through her hair, cringing a bit through the tangles. “Have you always been such a joyful presence in your group of friends?” he snarked her, though light hearted. Y/N looked down at the fire, silent. She attempted to open her mouth to speak a few times, before stopping herself. “You never told me your name.” she evaded that question - Did she feel attacked? Or did he hit a sensitive note with that question? “Negan. Name’s Negan.” she nodded at him. He realised that she would often take a few seconds to come up with her answers. Was she always so deeply calculated and serious? She needed to lighten up a bit.

Or maybe this strictly rational and straight woman got send by Lucille, to combat his overly leisure self? Was this a lesson that he had to learn from? “I wasn’t a party person. I’m not the kind to let loose and act like a fool. I know how to have fun - My kind of fun - But I know my limits and where I draw the line.” she shrugged simply. “I get it. I get it, don’t worry. I won’t do that, so you can... Take a step back and chill out a bit. I’ve got this beautiful babe here with me - As dangerous as she’s beautiful, ain’t she? - And she’s gonna keep us both safe. Don’t worry about a thing~!” he raised his bat and patted it on his palm - For a split second, he could see her body tense as she gulped, straightening her back, trying to mask her fear. “That’s... Good. But we’ll need to find some more weapons pretty soon. And other supplies.” as if on cue, her stomach rumbled. Y/N’s eyes widened, before hugging herself and hanging her head down, no doubt blushing in embarrassment. For such a strict and unbending woman, she was easy to embarrass. How cute. Negan grinned at her, before taking some food and throwing it at her. “Must’ve been a while since you last ate, huh?” her hands were trembling softly, holding the food. “Go ahead. I’m giving it to you. Eat. You need to help me scavenge for supplies tomorrow, right?” “Th-Thanks...” she muttered. “Three days.” she said, slowly digging into the food - Small bites, to trick her brain into thinking her stomach is full. “It’s not that long... Sorry for that.” “Don’t apologise, chill a bit.” her hair was getting in the way, and no matter what she did, it would keep draping over her hair like a curtain. It was hilarious, but it was clearly uncomfortable. Negan wanted to laugh at her misfortune - But then, he remembered the little thing that he still had in his pocket. Long before Lucille found out about her cancer, she had the most beautiful, long, blonde hair, and whenever she’d be at home, she’d tie it up. Negan reached into his pants’ pocket and retrieved a black hair tie. It was really, the only thing he had left from Lucille. 

‘Please don’t leave me like this  ♡‘ don’t worry Lucille. Even if your body isn’t here anymore, you’re still the same kind, helpful soul that you’ve always been. “Here.” stealing a kiss to the hair tie as soon as the woman before him wasn’t looking, he handed the tie for her to take. She looked in awe at him and his kindness, no doubt. “Can’t be fun, eating more dirty hair than food. You’ll end up spitting fur balls like a cat.” “...Thanks...” she muttered, bashfully taking the tie and tying back her hair, revealing her beautiful, yet incredibly exhausted looking visage. She must be dying for a good sleep. What has she gone through, he wondered. “You really don’t need to do me so much good. I have nothing to give you back.” “I’m not asking for anything in return.” he reassured her in a calmer voice. “You must be tired. Go sleep. I’ll keep watch.” Y/N looked at him with a skeptical look. “What, you think I’m going to bash your skull in while you’re sleeping? At least it won’t hurt. Quick death. Better me than those fucks, right?” “No... It’s not that. It’s just... You’ve already been kind enough to me. I should stay watch.” Negan looked her in the eyes for a brief moment - Despite how exhausted she looked and how dirty her face was, her eyes still had a spark of life, and a very beautiful shade.  “Don’t fret so much.” he muttered under his breath.

Y/N looked down and gulped the bit of bread and returned the remaining food to its rightful owner. She looked so awkward, Negan almost felt compelled to laugh at her, but he restrained himself. Instead, he patted her shoulder, urging her to come over and sit on the log, rest her head on his arm and sleep.

It felt uncomfortable for her, truly, but it was far better than laying on the dirty, cold, hard ground to sleep, or tying herself up on a branch and hoping she won’t fall off and end up walker food... Or a pinata. Albeit with a lethargic pace, Y/N ended up complying without another word, and unsurprisingly, as soon as she placed her head on his shoulder, Y/N fell asleep. Poor girl, Negan thought, watching her reach out her hands and gripping his arm, almost as if afraid he’d run away and abandon her, break his promise to her. She looked so vulnerable and afraid, now more than when she was awake. Judging from the way her chest was heaving up and down with ample, rapid motions, and how her fingers and arm joints would occasionally twitch, it was evident she was still very much alert.

Don’t worry, Y/N. I already abandoned someone like you before. I won’t do that again.

Without realising, Negan’s hand found itself caressing her hair slowly, but in a way, he almost felt as though he was trying to calm and sooth himelf, not her. He missed the feeling of touching Lucille’s hair, whenever she’d want to indulge herself, and she nuzzled herself to his side, expecting some pampering. If only things didn’t go to shit so quickly...

Lost in thoughts, the man didn’t hear the sound of twigs breaking - It was a mistake that he had already done once, and though it ended with an inoffensive party member, this time, he will learn that the biggest monsters aren’t the walkers, but the humans themselves.

Y/N jolted up as if electrocuted, and shuffled her feet away from Negan, looking around with wide, alert eyes, to spot the danger incoming. When he tried to speak, she immediately shushed him down. That’s when she saw a woman, afraid, running from the thicket, towards them. She was screaming for help, saying that there were two men trying to assault her or something. Negan was going to tell her to come over, to be protected - Surely, with Lucille in his hands, he could take down two stupid punks, right? Oh, how he hated stupid fuckers like those guys, thinking they could do whatever they want, especially now, in a lawless world.

To his surprise, however, Y/N, who was in a similar situation not long before, stopped the woman from approaching, and even threatened her. Her voice was harsh and awful, it shocked Negan. He was sure she would want to protect someone vulnerable and innocent, just like her.

From the deeper forest, two men, one with a knife, the other, a machete, came down like the huns, ready to chop them down into pieces and eat them for lunch. With great fear on her face, the victim ran towards them - But Y/N immediately threw a well-aimed jab at her face, making her fall down to the ground. “Y/N, what are you doing, she’s the victim!” he asked, looking with concern at her. “She’s as much of a fairy as those guys are. Get your weapon ready, they’re coming.” Y/N warned him - But he was stunned. How could a woman running away from those brutes be evil? The guy with the machete ran towards Y/N. “Well, well, lookie here~ Not only one, but TWO pretty girls to claim tonight~! What a great bounty, ‘aight, bro?” the two had ugly, crude laughs. With no warning, Negan watched in awe as Y/N chopped at his arm with her palm, before she threw a straight uppercut at his jaw, making him stumble backwards. Giving him no time to waste, she ducked down under his weapon arm and clung onto it, breaking the joint and stealing the weapon before decapitating the man. “WHAT THE FUCK?! J-JOHNNY?! Y-YOU FUCKING WHORE, YOU KILLED HIM! I’LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS!” like a blind bull, the other offender rushed towards Y/N, and as he tried to slice at her face, she threw herself to the ground, rolling to his feet to trip him - As he stumbled on his feet, and Y/N made him fall on his stomach - She threw herself down on his back and broke his neck, making him fall limp. “I’ll be damned.” Negan grumbled to himself, completely mesmerised by the way a small, frail woman such as Y/N could pull off such neat and accurate combat moves. But unfortunately for him, that was his downfall - Not even once did he expect the victim to actually be one of the culprits, as Y/N so rightfully deduced, and before he knew it, the blonde woman dared touch HIS Lucille, and hold her with shaky hands and threaten him. “DON’T COME ANY CLOSER! Y-YOU! YOU MONSTER! YOU KILLED THEM! YOU KILLED THEM BOTH - MY BROTHERS! YOU KILLED THEM!” her voice now sounded so revenge-driven and awful, only to shake like a leaf as soon as she noticed Y/N raise to her feet, covered in the blood of her victims, a knife in one hand, and a machete in the other. “You think someone like you can take that guy down? You can’t even hold the bat. You’re useless - Not only that, you’re useless AND evil. Playing the victim just to bait us... It’s been two months since the Apocalypse started. I’ve seen them all. You’re just a pathetic little girl, that’s what you are. You have made the wrong move. You’re going to die now.” Y/N approached the two with a menacingly slow pace. “Don’t worry, Negan. I’ll protect you.” “STAY BACK! I-I’LL KILL HIM! I SWEAR I WILL!” the blonde shrieked her lungs out, her grip on the bat tightening to the point her skin looked bleach white. “Nah, girl, I don’t think you will.” at once, the man got ahold of his darling weapon and easily wrestled it out of her grip. “You know what they say - Goodnight America.” with one swift move, Negan bashed her skull in, her brains and blood spraying all over the camp. Negan grinned victoriously, as Y/N only scoffed, letting the weapons fall to the ground, her body following soon after. “That was a fiiiine fight you had, doll.” Negan chuckled, kicking the dead woman’s body away. “Didn’t think you had it in ya.” “I... I learnt some MMA. Before all this happened. I, uh... I had to.” she said, trying to even out her breathing. “Had to? What in the world would prompt you to learn MMA, of all things?” he barked in shock and amusement. “...A situation quite like this.” his smile fell immediately. “I know more theory than actual techniques, really. But I practiced Aikido, Silat and Systema. Well... You can make the argument that Aikido and Systema are mostly the same, just that one is Japanese and the other is Russian. But they’re pretty good for my frame. I can at least defend myself, even against jerks with weapons.” though her legs were shaking like two flowers in the spring breeze, she managed to get up and make her way to the fire. “I guess... Even bad things can lead to good ones... If you can even call it that.” “Don’t worry, doll, I won’t make that mistake again.” Negan reassured her, reaching out his hand to wipe away the blood from her face. “How’d you know she was in on it?” “... I didn’t. I just don’t trust anyone.” she mumbled.  “You trust me.” Negan refuted. “You promised.” she said solemnly. “Promises meant nothing before, and they mean even less now.” he argued, but she simply shrugged her shoulders. “Why do you trust me?” “Because you said so.” she said simply.  “That’s not a reason.” Negan gave her a half-smile. “...I told you, didn’t I? I can’t be alone. I’ll die. You’re the only one I have left. Whether you kill me or not, it doesn’t matter. I just don’t want to be alone anymore.” she explained, albeit reticent. “So... It’s not survival you care about, but not being lonely, huh?” she nodded. “Ha. Silly girl.” he snorted, only to see the dead face she had on her face. She almost seemed about to cry. She was too close to her breaking point, he realised. “...You’re not alone anymore.”

With a sigh, Negan felt Lucille slip from his grasp, as his arms wrapped around her body, pulling her into a tight embrace. He could feel he trembling, and her breathing had gotten ragged and uneven. “Go ahead and cry. You must’ve been through a lot. Cry all you want - Get it out of your system. It’ll help you sleep tonight. And in the morning, we can go get supplies and what not.” he reassured her, and at once, she heard the faintest, broken sob, as she buried her head in his chest. Negan guided her back to the log so her weakened legs wouldn’t give out, and he patted her hair, his chin resting on top of her head. He looked down at Lucille - Was this the right thing to do? He wasn’t moving on from her... He still loved Lucille so much... So, so much... He didn’t want to make her jealous anymore... But he was just reassuring a scared, lonely woman, right? Nothing wrong in doing that, considering the terrifying situation they’re in. “I promise I won’t leave you alone, Y/N.” 

Lucille... You will have to forgive me. I’m so lonely... I can’t function properly without you... But I’m so, so lonely without you...  Did you send Y/N to keep me company? To right the wrongs I’ve done to you? Is this my redemption? 

“You act all tough and strong, but you’re really just a little crybaby, Y/N.” Negan muttered in her hair. “But that’s fine. You’re a woman. It’s the man’s job to protect you against monsters of all kind.” what she was feeling, he couldn’t know, and probably never will. But it was fine. He failed his wife once, disregarding her feelings. He won’t make the same mistake again. He let a woman sully her hands, her soul, all to protect him. No more. He was going to be the deadbeat failure of a husband no more. 

Negan is here.

As promised, he allowed her to sleep for as long as she needed, up to the point that she woke up naturally, and felt refreshed. Maybe, at least a little bit. He remembers those studies that claimed a lost night of sleep can be solved with a week of proper amount of sleep - But they couldn’t afford such luxury anymore. Together, they travelled aimlessly through the abandoned city, wondering at how quickly a place can turn so... Dilapidated, as if it hasn’t been inhabited in centuries.

Too many close calls, too many walkers, and far too many dangers. It was dangerous being just two people, but it would have been just as dangerous in a bigger group also. But it was fine - They could live on and thrive together pretty well. They were even able to eat once every two days, and drink good water. 

Weeks passed by weirdly fast - Or at least, they thought those were weeks, not months, based on the amount of times they fell asleep, and remembered to count. Surely, they must have missed a few times, there was only so much they could do, and even the daily routine they tried so hard to cling onto, the last string of hope that kept them associated to humanity, to their old life - Even that was close to breaking.

But the more nights passed, the more conversations at the roasting fire they had. It was the time Negan loved the most, and really, just about the only thing that gave him any joy whatsoever anymore. Even the pain of being torn apart from the love of his life so violently seemed to ameliorate bit by bit, all thanks to the conversations he had with this woman. Somehow, he kept him grounded to real life, and had him going on without any thought of giving up.

Here and there, they talked about their lives before this all happened. Negan felt absolutely humiliated. Not only was he the biggest dead beat in the world, but hearing the woman speak of her hard work and all the sacrifices she’s made to get to the top and achieve the career of her dreams, it felt motivational, but also fatalistic and depressing. All her life, she’s done nothing but study and work, for that one day, when she finds a partner, they can travel the world together and live a beautiful, happy life.

It reminded him of himself with Lucille in a way. He should have worked hard and provided for her too. He should have made her life a beautiful dream, not a nightmare. Should have spoiled her with all the most luxurious gifts, and brought her to all the lush, exotic vacation trips. Alas... All he did was play video games all day. What a pitiful, useless excuse for a man he is.

No, he has to do better. Be better.

Still, no matter how much they talked about their lives, neither of them dared touch the topic of their private life. Family, partner... Nothing. It’s as if they both knew it was such a sensitive topic that they were afraid to touch upon it.

“Hey, Negan, come over. Let’s check this one out.” Y/N motioned for the man to come over as soon as she was able to find a way inside the abandoned house. It still looked decent and fairly well kept, even from the outside. 

The two slowly crept inside - It was rather clean, save for some accumulated dust, and with a single walker inhabiting the home, they decided to make it their temporary residence, for as long as they could, at least. The small house even had running water - Was this a miracle?

Stashed away in the basement, they found a ton of canned food rations, and even water and alcohol of all kinds. They hit the jackpot. After eating some, Y/N went first to take a long and very welcomed bath while Negan stood watch, then they reversed the roles. Thankfully, they even had some nice clothes left behind by the old owners of the house. Fresh as a daisy.

After securing the perimeter, the two sat down in the living room, as per the ritual of having conversations by the fire, yet now, they chatted over a glass of wine and whiskey specifically. The quiet didn’t last long between the two, as Negan, as always, was the one to speak up first. “So, you’re not looking for anyone? No family, no friends - Nothing?” Y/N shook her head. “Come on, really? I don’t believe you.” “Believe what you want.” she shrugged. “I never really had friends. I mean... One of them was an online friend, across the ocean. We’ve never met. The other, well... She was too busy with her own family. We kinda lost touch after a while. It was all me.” he didn’t miss the bitter tone that rolled off her tongue. “Okay, fine, I get that. I didn’t have either. But what about your boyfriend?” she shook her head. “What, didn’t make it?” she shook her head.  “I didn’t have any.” Negan was speechless. “I didn’t want to waste my time on good for nothing men.” that sentence alone seemed to shoot a poisoned arrow through his heart. “In the end... I was wrong in wanting someone good for myself. It’s pitiful.” she scoffed. “What’s the point in working so hard, if you end up miserable anyway?” was this how Lucille felt, having him as her husband? A good for nothing, worthless excuse of a man? She deserved better than this. “N’aww, don’t say that, doll. You’re a fine lady. Beautiful, smart, diligent. Incredibly bad at social interacting.” Y/N let out an amused scoff.  “And what has that helped me with?” Negan remained quiet. “It was just me and my parents, and my dog... But thankfully, my dog died last year. Didn’t have to put the poor old lady through this mess. Mum died of cancer, dad followed soon after, from a broken heart. Left me all alone.” Y/N sighed. “It sucks, you know. You see how much your mum and dad loved each other, but you can’t find someone like that. It’s stupid.” she gulped down the whole wine glass in one go. Negan had his head down - This whole talk turned far more somber than expected. She’s lost as much as he did, and more.  “Lucille was my wife.” he admitted. “She was... The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Smart, charming, charismatic, funny, kind, understanding. Everything anyone could ask for.” he stroked the bat lovingly, flashes of his wife’s smile flashing before his eyes. “She... Was diagnosed with cancer too, a little before the world went to shit. Used to go bring her chemo bags, and wigs in bright colours of all kinds. She was always so cheerful.” after a few seconds of silence, Negan gulped. “On the last run, I found her dead in her bed. She had killed herself. Didn’t want to be a liability to me, as she put it. Silly woman. She was too good for me. She deserved better.” “She loved you, Negan. It doesn’t matter whether she deserved better or not. If you felt she deserved better, you should have done better. But she stayed by your side. She loved you for who you are. You two were happy together. And it’s evident, how much you still love her, even now.” Negan couldn’t help but let out an amused breath - He didn’t have the heart to point out that he cheated on the love of his life and caused her immense misery, when she needed him the most. He couldn’t shatter her dreams of a love written in the stars... Nor did he want to be reminded of the shit mistakes he did. “Well, aren’t you the romantic one.” he tried to divert the conversation to her, rather than himself. “Whatever men you dated in the past, must have been really happy. Poor bastards, didn’t live up to the expectations. Pathetic.” “...I’d... Rather not... Talk about that.” the way her fingers clutched tightly the wine glass, and the grimace on her face, made Negan thing that she didn’t have pink experiences. Life ain’t always sunshine and daisies, even for the nicest of people. “I... Need another drink. Do you want some more whiskey too?” Y/N got up, picking the two glasses after his approval nod, and waltzed into the kitchen. 

From back at the living room, the loud noise of glass breaking echoed. “Negan? You okay?” Y/N called out, pouring the booze and walking back towards the cozy room. There, instead of finding her companion sprawled over the couch, she instead found him kneeling on the ground, blood leaking down his forehead, and a man was holding a gun to his head. “...Oh.” Negan could see the terrified look in her eyes. She really was afraid of men, wasn’t she? Rightfully so. Men are monsters - He knew that best, after all. “Behind you!” he called out - but it was too late. The other culprit had been waiting just around the corner, and his arms wrapped tightly around her body, immobilizing her. The two glasses shattered to the ground as she struggled and clawed her way out, but it was to no avail. No amount of combat techniques could prepare her for getting clinched like that.  “Hahaha, look what fine bounty! Who’d have thought!” the one holding her said, knife to her throat, so deep into her skin that droplets of red inked her down to her shirt, staining everything in its path. “Kill that fucker, and when you’re done, come join the fun.” “NO!” Y/N shouted desperately. “Don’t kill him! P-Please, don’t kill him!” she heaved, careful not to get her neck sliced even more. “I-I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll even show you all our ration, a-and tell you supply centers around the place that haven’t been raided! Just please, don’t kill him!” Both men laughed, ugly, nasty grins on their faces. “Aww, how cute! Lil’ bitch thinks she can order us around~! Ain’t that adorable?” one of them said. “He yo’ husband or what?” neither of the victims said anything. “Haaa, he sure is her lil’ fucktoy! Well! If you love him so much... Might as well give him a little present. We give you a lil’ bastard child, and he gets to hear your sweet little cries. Oh, he’s gonna LOVE it!”  “You speak too much, man. I’ll keep watch. Just go get it over with. Send the bitch over when you’re done. I want her little lover boy to watch as I fuck his pretty, little girl, over and over again.” that one continued with the nasty speech for so long that Negan was sure he could see Y/N fainting, just a little.

Y/N’s struggling came to an end, after the one holding her punched her face hard enough to tame her down, and with one hand buried deep in her hair, he threw her out of the room, and onto the ground, then straddled her waist, bringing her wrists together and binding them with a burning rope, in front of her body. With his knife, he split her shirt in two, followed by the last piece of fabric covering her chest. “I always had a thing for blood, y’know. Red suits you well, pretty bird. Now sing for me a sweet thrill, loud enough for that guy to hear you.”

In his attempt to remove her pants, clumsy as he was, he had to put down the knife and use both hands - It was the perfect opportunity for her to throw her arms around his neck, and using the legs around his waist to shift positions, enough to use the rope and hands to strangle him to death. As he was struggling to breath, Y/N started screaming and pretending to sob - It was the perfect cover, as her breathing was heavy, and her voice broken anyway. When finally, the assailant was unconscious, Y/N quickly took the knife and shoved it in his skull. She then looked down at herself, and though embarrassment was too light a word for the way she was presenting herself, she took off her jeans and hid the knife in the sleeve of her long cardigan, keeping her hands tied.

Meekly, she tripped over her feet, stumbling pitifully, painfully, all an act. Tears were running continuously down her face, and her expression was outright horrified and hopeless. “Awww, look at you! This look suits you better, y’know. C’mon now, get on your knees. Show me what you do to this man to keep him staying with you.” the nasty words the fucker was saying almost went unheard by Negan - All he could focus on was the broken state of the woman he swore to protect, yet failed once again. Once again, he lets down the only person that matters in his life anymore. Lucille was gone... And now... Y/N... He thought they would be safe here, in this house. He let his guard down. He was caught off guard. He couldn’t win with his bat against a gun. 

There was nothing that Negan hated more than men taking advantage of women - He wanted to strangle the life out of this fucker. No, even better. Beat him to death. Bash his skull in. Make him suffer. Rip his dick off and shove his balls down his throat. Anything, for revenge. Anything, to save Y/N from this suffering.

He watched her slowly approaching, her head lowering before the man holding him hostage. Her whole body was trembling violently, but she didn’t go down. She just stood there, so very close to him. “Come on, bitch, get down.” the fucker quickly undid the button of his jeans and zipped them down, then put his hand on her head, gripping a tight fistful of her messy hair, no doubt trying to push her down - But she lunged forward. With a hidden weapon, she stabbed her assailant in the stomach, wide enough to spill his guts out, as if it was a dishonored samurai committing seppuku, only to have his head stabbed also.

“They’re... Really... Not that smart...” Y/N scoffed, stumbling backward and awkwardly cutting the rope holding her wrists together. “Damn, it left burns.” she muttered, staring down at her red, pained skin. As if remembering about his existence, Y/N shifted her gleaming eyes at Negan. “Are you hurt?” she asked, noticing the bound hands, and crouching to liberate him also. “Sorry it took so long. That guy took longer to suffocate than I imagined.” she muttered, turning around, knife slipping from her grasp. “Don’t ask ME if I’m hurt -- Y/N, what the hell, I --” Negan got up to his feet, and looked down at the broken woman standing in front of him. “I’m fine.” she cut him off. “It’s... Not the first time... I’ve dealt with this.” she shrugged, though she tried to appear unbothered, it didn’t work much. “Only this time, I was able to retaliate before anything could happen.” the implication made his head swim, but he had to keep himself grounded and act accordingly. It wasn’t he who needed comfort and help, but her. Though he protected her against hoards of walkers on end... It was still the humans that he couldn’t get a handle on.

Things really had to change, and fast, before another incident such as this happens again. “Come ‘ere, doll. Ain’t no way I’m letting a pretty princess like yourself walk around this dirty house like that.” Negan spoke light-hearted, as he picked her up bridal style... Just like he did to Lucille when he carried her home after their wedding... And he brought her to her room, carefully placing her on the bed. He couldn’t help but steal a glance at her eyes - Wide, surprised, and wet from the tears she spilled. If only he could make any reason that could make her cry disappear. He hated seeing her upset. He wanted to see her smile only. She had a beautiful smile.

Negan opened the wardrobe wide and threw some clothes at her, before going to the bathroom to take the medical kit and wet some towels to take care of her wounds. “It’s... Not that big of a deal, really. You... You don’t... Need to.” she bashfully looked away - She looked so adorable, with those large clothes swallowing her whole. “Stop worrying so much over silly things, doll.” he flashed her one of those charming, dazzling smiles of his. “It’s the least I can do after you’ve saved me. Again.” he said. “I’m pretty shit at keeping you safe, huh. You’d do much better without me.” “Shut up.” she gritted her teeth. “Don’t say that.” she warned. “I don’t...” she hesitated for a little. “I don’t want to go out there, alone. Not again.” “Oh, I’m not complaining about that, doll. In fact, it works well for me, I’d say. Great company is always welcomed.” he didn’t dare try to joke about how pretty she was anymore - Not after the course of filth those two spewed her way. She must have cringed into eternity. Even now, it was obvious how uncomfortable his touch felt. She was going to awkward-herself into an early grave. Still, he couldn’t quite understand why she wouldn’t loosen up around him. Maybe that’s just how she was. Always stern and strict, always cold and guarded, and bound by some impossibly strict personal rules. But it was fine. He liked her just the way she was.  “Uh... Thanks.” she nodded. “I... Also... Like your companionship.” Negan couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re really shit at chatting, y’know that, right?” Y/N nodded pitifully. “But that’s fine. Nothing wrong with that. I’m sociable enough for the both of us. Keep being yourself, and I’ll deal with everything else around, a’ight?” Y/N gave him a small smile, cringing a bit at the stinging sensation of the antiseptic touching her neck wound. “Alright, Negan. I trust your word.” she spoke in a whispery tone. “...Hey, Negan?” she timidly called out his name, as he watched him put the med kit away.  “Yeah, doll?” “Uhm... D-Do you, uhm...” Y/N gulped, her gaze down on the ground. “Do you think that I could... That I could... W-Well...” “Don’t be so afraid of asking me for something, Y/N. I’m not the big bad wolf. I won’t bite you.” he urged her to speak. “Can I sleep with you tonight?” she finally blurted out, surprising the man with her uncharacteristic request. “I... I can’t sleep at night. At all. I keep waking up as soon as I’ve fallen asleep. I have nightmares and panic attacks and... I just... I’m afraid to stay by myself.” so honest, Negan was speechless. The lack of response made Y/N clear her throat. “Sorry, forget I asked, that was childish. You can go sleep now. Goodnight, Negan.” Y/N wanted to claw her face from embarrassment, but finally the man saved her from doing just that. “No, no - Doll, it’s not childish. We’re in hell. Everyone is afraid. I get ya. I’m afraid too, you know? But it’s fine. We’ve got each other, right?” he extended his hand for her to take. With great reticence, Y/N gingerly placed her hand over his, and was guided to his room. After the proper invitation, Y/N went to settle on the large bed, glued to the corner of the room, and huddled against the wall. “Most people fight over the edge-half of the bed.” “I never liked that half. I never felt safe. I could never sleep properly.” she admitted. “Took a while to get used to a bed in the middle of the room, with no protective wall next to it. It was awful.” “So this is a thing from before Hell, huh?” Y/N nodded in shame. “S’okay, don’t be so ashamed of that. Nobody likes being alone, after all. Besides, there’s many fears that lone women have to live with. Can’t blame ya, especially after what just happened.” Negan discarded his jacket on the chair and sat on the edge of the bed. “But you don’t have to fear anymore. For better or for worse, Negan’s here, and I won’t let anyone hurt you again, okay, Y/N?” “...Yeah. That’s right.” she smiled gratefully at him, watching him lay down in bed, before extending his arm towards her, and he looked at her somewhat expectingly, but she had no idea why.  “Come over. I’ll play with your hair. I know you like it.” he urged her. “I’ll even throw a lil’ song for you. Or a story. How’s that sound?” “Skip the story, it will keep me awake. But remember it tomorrow, for coffee.” she dragged herself over, trying not to let her tachycardia known. “Wouldn’t mind the song though.” she said, already feeling her lashes fall onto each other from drowsiness, as his hand worked magic caressing her hair. “Now that’s more like it.” his low chuckle vibrating in his chest sent rumbles to her senses. It was such a soothing resonance, his voice was addicting and so calming. She felt so safe, listening to him, that she had no idea when the song ended, or when it even started, for she fell into a deep, restful sleep. And Negan couldn’t help but watch, her face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, her smaller hand still clutching onto his shirt for reassurance that he wouldn’t just disappear.

Would Lucille be disappointed in him, for moving on so quickly? He’ll still love her - To the end of his existence, and back, so she needn’t be jealous. He’d never cheat again. But... She wasn’t there with him anymore. Y/N was. And Y/N was a good woman. Surely, Lucille would be happy that he was able to find someone that could mend together with perfect sutures his broken heart. Someone that is as broken as he is, just, in different ways. Lucille wouldn’t hate him, would she? Not for this. He deserves all her wrath for all the wrongs he’s done to her - But not for this. He needed this, as much as a man lost in the desert needed a drop of water. It wasn’t easy, attempting to make a move on Y/N without scaring her away. She was like a limping dear, or a starving fox - Wanting to approach, but too afraid to, though she masked it well enough with that proper etiquette facade of hers.

Whether she wanted him as a lover or not, her mere presence was enough, at least. He felt content, even like this. It was fine. It was perfect, just like this. During the day, they’d scavenge around for supplies, and at night, they’d chat until they felt sleepy - And then, they’d go sleep - Together also, now.

But Y/N seemed to have quite the agitated sleep - Was she having a nightmare, Negan wondered. His arms tightened around her body, hoping that, whatever scary thing she was dreaming of, will just disappear, or that at least he will appear there, her knight in shining armor, to rescue her. Instead of calming down, however, small, soft sobs could be heard for just a brief time, before Y/N jolted up with a cry of anguish. Though the room was dark, her trembling outline was shined on by the moonlight. She looked so fragile, so small... So hopeless. 

And then, with desperation, she jumped off and lunged for the bathroom door. Negan could hear the frantic sound of vomiting. Whatever it was she had dreamt of must have caused her great distress. “Doll? May I come in?” he knocked on the half-opened door, but instead of words, he heard a thump, as if she fell to the ground, and more sobs. Though uninvited, Negan opened the door properly, and slowly knelt by her side. “Oh, doll, what the hell did you dream of to make you this afraid?” his voice was uncharacteristically soft and soothing, in a low undertone, to attempt and calm her down. “Talk to me, Y/N.” with careful moves, Negan gathered the woman into his arms and cradled her to his chest, holding her tightly and kissing her hair. “Talk to me.” “I-I... I... I dreamt that y-you... That you left. S-Said that you hate me. C-Can’t... Can’t stand me... Anymore. I-I don’t w-want you to hate me. Or leave me. Please don’t leave me... Not like this... Please don’t leave me like this, Negan.” at once, his body stiffened, and flashes of the painted walls of his house went before his very eyes. Though the connotation was entirely different from what his Lucille meant when she wrote that, those words pained him no less. “I would never leave the person I love so much, Y/N.” he said that to Lucille once, and now, he said it to Y/N. Though the timing couldn’t be any worse, there was no other way he knew how to reassure her - And frankly, he did want to voice his feelings, once and for all, whatever may happen. After all, it wasn’t a lie, he did grow to love Y/N. Though she would never replace Lucille - She didn’t have to. Lucille had her own special spot in his heart, and Y/N has her own. She’s not a replacement, she’s a woman that Negan grew so very fond of. He’s made enough mistakes throughout his life, and he took his wife for granted for far too long a time. He would not make that mistake again. “Do you hear me, Y/N? I won’t leave you. I promise. And even if something happens and we’re separated - Just call out my name, okay? Call out my name, and I’ll be there for you, and I’ll say - Negan’s here! And you’ll flash me that pretty smile of yours, and will run to give me a hug, and say how much you missed me. How’s that sound?” he could feel her sniffling soften out, unlike her fingers, which clutched down even harder on the thin material of his pyjama shirt.  “Y-You... You really love... Someone like me? But I’m pathetic.” her voice was barely above a whisper, yet just enough to convey the brokenness of her heart. “Now, missy, I’ll have you know, I don’t really appreciate people speaking ill of the people I love.” he warned her.  The soft sound of an amused exhale made Negan’s heart make a leap. “You really mean it? You promise you do?” “Trust my words, doll. I never lied to you, and I don’t intend to start now.” carefully laxing his grip on her body, his hands found themselves cupping her face, and wiping away the streaming tears. “I’m not going to leave you alone. I love you, doll.” he leaned down, capturing her lips with his own, in a gentle, loving kiss. Somehow, it felt that, this kiss, the feelings behind it, they all made the dystopian world outside disappear altogether, and normality was back in place. Nothing bad could happen to them - They were protected by a divine aura - or something. “I love you so much, Negan.” she pulled him back into an embrace, and though she didn’t speak loud and clear, as his own declaration, her whispering the confession so dearly into his ear, somehow made it even more intimate.

If only things could remain as innocent and beautiful - It wasn’t possible though. Nobody was safe from the Apocalypse, from the misery and suffering of the world. Less than a month they spent in that house, before a hoard of walkers overrun the area, and Y/N and Negan had to run away, in split directions. They had set a meeting point, back at their spot. Barely a day after being away from each other, Negan returned to the small camp close to the street, and he waited for a whole night also, only to curse loudly and destroy an already broken car with his bat - He had just remembered her shit orientation in space. She could be 10 meters away from this place, and she’d end up going in the opposite direction. Silly girl, how will she survive all by herself out there?! She didn’t even have her cardigan with her, due to the speed with which they had to leave. It was going to get cold soon, and she’ll freeze the night away. How will she survive all alone out there? People and walkers alone were a huge threat, and she behaved like a wounded wild animal. She can’t stay alone. Not her. Not his Y/N. Not his doll. “Y/N!!! DOLL, IT’S NEGAN! COME HERE! NEGAN’S HERE, BABE!!” but no matter how much he tried to call out for her, she just didn’t appear.

Three days passed, and there was no trace of Y/N. Negan was becoming desperate. Y/N must have died by now... Still, if she somehow finds this place, he will leave the zipper hoodie he was wearing underneath his leather jacket. Hopefully, it will be her who finds it, not some other fucker... Or worse, a walker. 

He had to get back out there and live. He promised Lucille, and he promised Y/N too, that no matter what, he will live and carry on, no matter how much it hurt, leaving behind not one, but two women that he grew to love so much. His heart was mended once, only to become ripped and mauled into microscopic pieces once again. Damn it, he shouldn’t have allowed himself to fall in love so easily. Just three months together, and he falls so hard for her... Damn it, doll. Please don’t be dead.

Almost three years passed, and the old Negan was nowhere to be seen - Instead, the boy that was once a highschool bully had returned, and Negan was now the leader of the Saviours, six hundred people, scattered around several outposts. He had lieutenants, he had a right hand, and not enough ‘wives’. On the off-chance that he makes the mistake of accidentally remembering his real past wives, Lucille and Y/N, the idea that some women that are nothing but some pretty faces to warm his bed felt almost uncomfortable. But it was fine. He had no more room for suffering in his body - Killing and fucking was all he had left in this fucked up world. Maybe cursing too - But Y/N always cringed when he’d curse or yell, so he kept himself at bay... For as much as he could.

Now, he didn’t care about anything anymore. Nothing matter, except for his own survival, and the longevity of his group of Saviours. He dominated every community around, and he was the supreme leader, the Caesar at the Colosseum.

For the longest time, there was nobody who dared contest his rule - Almost three whole years, he was the King of the Jungle, overruling even the mighty Lion - Hell, he was above even Zeus himself - And then, those pesky fuckers came over and killed a bunch of his people - Innocent, normal people too, all that while they were asleep. Bullshit. As if he was going to leave that unpunished. Those fuckers were going to pay, tenfold. A hundredfold, at least. Fifty-six of his own people were dead. There will be hell to pay.

That night, Rick’s group was walking through the woods, holding Maggie’s exhausted, sick, and very pregnant body, only to get caught in a trap. From all over the the forest, ominous whistles echoed eerily, creeping them out, alerting them of the enemies they’ve walked into. They had to run the hell away from there before they got caught.

But it was far too late for an escape... They were caught by tens and tens... Or maybe there were a hundred people there, surrounding them? All of them with weapons of all kinds, and even cars. They were forced to give up their weapons, and got to their knees - From other cars, Glenn, Michonne and Daryl, all beaten up, were thrown to the ground also. This ugly guy with a rat instead of a moustache, the one who ordered them around, knocked on the RV and invited someone to come out, as if he was welcoming the Celebrity of the Night, the Guest of Honour, to walk down the red carpet and have his picture taken, in the spotlight.

Negan stepped out - The Man of the Night was ready to instill his revenge on the fuckers who dared cross his path and defy his ultimate authority. To think all of this happened to Rick’s group, because they tried to get to the Hilltop, find a doctor to medicate poor Maggie... Rick looked around, counting the people, only to realise - One of them was missing. Maybe she escaped? Hopefully, she did. At least her - Though, with all of them trapped here, there was little she could do by herself. Or, perhaps she could go and be welcomed, all by herself, to either Alexandria, or the Hilltop. Maybe even the Kingdom? Oceanside? Any community worked.

“Pissed your pants yet?” the man with the bat asked, with a sarcastic, dry chuckle. He meant business. He was a true threat, merely with his presence alone. No doubt, he was the leader of the Survivors, Rick realised quickly. They were screwed. “Boy, do I have a feeling we’re getting close.” he said, finally stepping into the light. He was tall, and well built. Rick knew, even if he were to brawl with him, he’d be at a disadvantage. “Yep.” the man walked across the line the eleven of them made. “Gonna be Pee-Pee-Pants City here real soon.” was he going to bash them all down with that bat of his? “Which one of you pricks is the leader?” he asked.  Simon immediately pointed his nasty, crooked finger at the ex-policeman. “It’s that guy. He’s the one.”  “Hi.” Negan looked down at Rick, lazily stepping in front of him. “You’re Rick, right?” rhetorical, as always. “I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people, for killing my people - You killed MORE of my people! NOT cool! Nooot cool! You have no idea how NOT cool that shit is. But! I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly.” Rick gulped in fear, looking up at the enemy. “Yeah. You’re SO gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes.” he grinned. “Yes, you are~♪.” he said, in a singy voice. “You see, Rick - Whatever you do, no matter what - You don’t mess with the new world order. New world order is this, and it’s really, very simple - So, even if you’re stupid, which you very may well be, you can understand it. You ready? Here it goes, pay attention.” Negan lowered his bat, pointing the end of it to his face, raising it slightly. “Give me your shit, or I will kill you.” he removed the bat, and smiled. “Today was Career Day. We invested a lot, so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me - That’s your job.” Rick couldn’t help but look up, frightened, not for his life, but everyone else’s - Especially Carl’s. “Now, I know there is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow... But swallow it, you most certainly will. You ruled the roost. you built something. You thought you were safe - I get it - But, the word is out. You... Are NOT safe. Not even close. In fact - You are pegged. More pegged, if you don’t do what I want, and what I want is half your shit. And if that’s too much, you can make, find or steal more, and it’ll even out, sooner or later. “ this fucking bastard spoke too much, for what he was worth. “This - Is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So, if someone knocks on your door, you let us in.” he chuckled. “We OWN that door.” he stated. “You try to stop us, and we will knock it down. You understand?” nobody dared utter even a shaky breath. “What? No answer?” Negan comically approached Rick, his hand to his ear. “You don’t really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished now, did you?” all at once, everyone’s hearts stopped beating. “I don’t want to kill you, people - Just want to make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me. You CAN’T do that if you’re dead, now, can you?” surely, it can’t be that simple, can it? “I’m not growing a garden... But! You KILLED my people. A whole damn lot of them - More than I’m comfortable with! And for that, you’re gonna pay... So now... I’m gonna beat the holy hell out of one of you.” the resolution had finally come to light. “This - Is Lucille. And SHE is AWESOME.” Negan showed off his bat. “All~ this. ALL this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honour.”

Negan walked from one light to the other, visualising the victims. One of the women was close to crying, and her health looked to be in poor condition. She couldn’t even stay still, kneeling on the ground. The other, a military man, looked up at him with tough, defiant eyes. Intriguing. Then, came a boy with a cowboy had and a bandage over one side of his face. He crouched in front of him, and though the kid tried to stay cool, the fear was obvious on his face. When he went back to look at the crying woman, the Asian had an emotional outburst - It was hilariously pathetic - But he was benevolent! Negan was going to let that one slide, for free! And he had even more fun, pointing his bat back at the kid, once he realised that was Rick’s kid, of all things!

“JUST STOP IT!” Rick growled pitifully.  “HEY! Do NOT make me kill the little, future serial killer. Don’t make it easy on me! I got to pick SOMEBODY! Everybody’s at the table, waiting for me to order.” he started whistling, going back and forth, looking at the people. “I simply cannot decide!” he chuckled. “But I got an idea!” and he started pointing his bat at each and every one of those people. “Eenie- Meenie, Miney, Mo” he’d linger just enough to make everyone have small heart attacks. Seeing them crying, shivering, trembling, desperate, hopeless or even hopeful that they may escape the attack, that another will take the death for them. Something, anything.

People were SO tragic.

“Anybody moves, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we’ll start.” Negan ordered, finally picking his unfortunate target. “You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry - Hell, you’re ALL gonna be doing that.” everyone shrieked in horror, watching the victim take the first hit to the head, with all of the enemy’s might. “Oh, ho, wowieee, look at ya, taking it like a champ!” One more, and another, and many, many more, until Abraham’s head was nothing but perfectly minced mush. Everyone was in complete disbelief at the terror they’d just witnessed - It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. It didn’t make sense. Abraham - Dead? No way. Negan stopped destroying the already dead remains that became nothing but a stain of blood on the pebbled ground, and went around, taunting everyone with his bloody bat. Surely, there remained some hanging scraps of Abraham, still dangling from the barbed wire. The last bit of their friend, and it was on the monster’s weapon, no less. “LOOK AT IT!” Negan laughed, watching with sadistic pleasure as Rosita was trembling and sobbing violently - only to stumble backwards, punched in the face by the redneck who was once wrapped in a blanket. He watched as Daryl was being wrestled down by his own people, like an angry, raging bull, and he crouched down, grabbing a fistful of the idiot’s hair. It was the time for another divine punishment. He warned them once - He did, he was nice! He even gave them a freebie! But not anymore. No exceptions. Because of Dixon’s angry outburst, they were, once again, in the free line of fire.

Before he could get a good look at those pathetic fuckers kneeling before him, and choosing another victim, a shrill shriek, feminine, resounded desperately somewhere through the forest. Rick stiffened. Damn it, why now, of all times? Couldn’t she choose a better time to find their location? What’s the use of being directionally impaired, if you’re gonna find the group at the worst possible time ever?

“What was that?” Negan asked, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “Another... Friend of yours? Did we miss one?” he chuckled, crouching down by Rick’s side - The Policeman was speechless. Though he remained silent, the sound of echoing bullets was getting closer to their location, and rapid footsteps were getting right in the enemy’s trap, like a butterfly caught in the spider’s web. “That was a woman, alright. I know a woman screaming when I hear one.” Negan pointed out. “She pretty?” he smirked. “She your girlfriend, maybe? Is that why you’re quiet?”

As he signaled for Dwight and another one of his bigass brutes to get in position and grab the surprise guest, he heard the rapid breathing - She must have been running for a while now. “Rick!! Hoard -- Hoard coming! They’re coming, Rick!” a hoard, coming over? Good information. Perhaps he might just spare this one, for the sake of her own stupidity. She came over willingly, after all.  “RUN, IT’S A TRAP!” Rick yelled back at her, but it was far to late - The hulking man grabbed her, earning a squeak of surprise - She was held up in the air, only to be forcefully thrown to the ground. “NEGAN!” her soft voice sounded raw as she called out that name, as though she was expecting some kind of God to come over and magically save her. Negan, she said. How did she know that name? 

The party watched their friend’s body roll to the ground, still for a few second, only to unexpectedly jump, and with a masterfully planned trip, she brought down the big guy, and when faced with Dwight’s crossbow, she had her hands up in a sign she gave up, only for them to realise that she had waited for the big guy to get up and rush to her, so that she could swiftly side-stepped the crossbow, get behind Dwight and force him to shoot his ally’s shoulder, while she put a knife to his neck, using him as the perfect human shield.

Negan’s eyes widened in shock and delight, and he whistled, impressed by the woman’s feat. He even applauded. “Well, I’ll be damned! What a masterful performance! I’m impressed - Really, I am! A woman, taking down two of my men like that, with nothing but her bare arms? Ha! I want you for a bodyguard, ma’am! In fact - You remind me of someone very dear to me, y’know? She could pull badass stunts like that.” he then turned to Rick. “Where’d you find such a fine woman, Rick? Were you the one who taught her to say my name like that~?” “Rick... Wh-What’s going on?” unlike the strength and prowess she displayed, her voice was unexpectedly quivering and broken... And awfully familiar. “I’ll tell you what happened, doll - If you let me get a good look at your pretty face. I mean - Not that I can really see you, you know, but I’ve just got this feeling that you’re a real doll, but that messy, big ass hair of yours is getting in the way of my admiring.” Negan chuckled, swinging Lucille around in circle-motions, only to hear the woman gasp, and the knife fell out of her hand. Negan stopped in his tracks, confused by her sudden moment of weakness - Not only that, she even allowed Dwight to get out of her grasp. “Lucille...? Negan...?” the woman spoke out those names, and Negan froze, his mouth slightly agape - Now it all made sense. That large, dirty blue hoodie she was wearing, the one that almost completely swallowed her whole - It was the hoodie that he left for her, years ago. “Y/N...? Now way!” slowly, the woman lifted the hair to reveal her face - It wasn’t as dirty as the first time he met her, but she was just as exhausted, and even more scared, if it was possible. “That’s right - Negan’s here, doll!” he let his bloody weapon hit the ground, extending his arms, and at once, Y/N ran to him, throwing herself into his embrace. “I thought you were dead - This can’t be... Are you, really?! You’re alive?! I’m not dead, am I? Or dreaming?” with a kiss, he shushed her down. “Did that feel real to you, hun?” her blush was still as adorable as always. No doubt, even after so long, she hadn’t gotten over that extreme embarrassment of hers. No matter, it was all fine. She was back. Y/N was really back. “Y-Yeah... B-But, Negan - What’s going on? I-I don’t understand what’s going on.” with one hand, he wiped away the stray tears falling down her pretty face, only to turn her around and hug her from behind, making her see the group. “Were you with them, Y/N?” he rested his chin on her head, and he felt the small motions of a nod. “Y-Yeah. A few weeks after we lost each other, I... I found Rick’s group, and they were nice enough to take me in. Been staying with them ever since.” she explained, confused as why was everyone in such despair. Then, she saw the large splatter of blood, and the familiar, ravished clothes laying there. “N-Negan... Wh-What’s that...?” “That, my dear, used to be one of your group. Too bad - He was a real man, that one. Muscles and all. Took a real one for the team. Or maybe six. Or seven. Or more. I lost count after a while.” he felt her body stiffen up. “Don’t be too upset, now, Y/N - You were the one who taught me how to kill people, weren’t you? Three years ago, when all shit hit the fan? Remember that night, with those guys attacking us? You said - Killing people is fine, as long as you’re defending yourself. And I did just that!” he placed a kiss on her temple. “You see - Rick’s group here - I mean, you might know about it already - But, Rick’s group killed not one, not two, not three - But fifty-six people. MY people. So - Of course, I took that as an act of war, and instilled my revenge. But you know me, Y/N, I’m a merciful man. I only took the life of one of them.” “B-But... There must be a mistake! Everyone - Everyone here... They’re good people! It must be a misunderstanding! Please, let’s not fight each other anymore!” she tried to beg him, only to feel everyone’s eyes fixated on her. “Rick’s people killed my people, doll. And I sent a few others to kill them - But Rick’s group killed them too, and a bunch more! I can’t let that slide unpunished. But it’s fine, really, it is. I want them to work for me now, and they can’t work if they’re dead, right?” Negan explained, chuckling darkly in her ear. “...No way...” she gasped in disbelief. “That means - You’re with the Saviours?” “No, doll, I’m not WITH the Saviours. I am their leader. Of all six hundred of them. More or less. I lost count, and so did Simon. They keep dying, or appearing, now, more than anything, thanks to Rick’s decision of decimating my men.” Negan shot the policeman a triumphant smirk. “...I’ve missed a lot in three years, haven’t I?” she frowned, crestfallen at the realisation. Negan couldn’t help but grin wider, twirling her around, this time, to look at him. He was the supreme leader now, and he was proudly and efficiently responsible for hundreds of lives. He wasn’t that deadbeat fuck anymore. He needn’t protection anymore. He was Negan, and he was out for blood. This was the real Negan. “S-So... You’ve killed Abraham. You said just one of them had to die. Now, what?” “Were you playing us all along?” the unexpected rough voice of Daryl Dixon made Y/N’s head snap at him, her expression was shocked, Negan realised. “Wh-What?! How can you say that - Of course not! I thought he was dead! I have been loyal to the group all this time, I-I’ve gone through all that with you - How can you accuse me of something so awful?!” she was pissed. “Cozying up to the guy who just made porridge out of our friend - And you call yourself loyal to the group?” he sneered at her. “And what would you have me do?! I don’t know what happened - I don’t even know what you guys did, I don’t really know anything, do I?” she refuted immediately. “Abraham’s death is on you, Y/N.” without any warning, the redneck jolted up and grabbed ahold of her hoodie - He tried to attack her, in an impulsive act of revenge, but Negan punched him down easily, while his other lackeys wrestled him down to the ground. “Wait, hooold the fuck up a second - Doesn’t this situation look... Familiar? Hey, Rick, is that what they call a Deja-vu? Well! Excuse the fuck out of my French, but this is sooo fucked up from y’all. You see - I was willing to let even that second outburst slide - After all, Rick, you DID care for my sweet, precious Y/N when I couldn’t, y’know? She means the world to me. I was willing to call that one a mistake too. Buuut ~ ♪! Unfortunately, third time’s the charm. I can’t allow anyone to harm my sweet Y/N. So~ ♪ Y/N, look away and cover your ears. I don’t want you to see more of this.” he gently moved her away. “Back to it.” without any warning or moment of preparation, Negan smashed Glenn’s head. Negan stole a look back at Y/N, and he noticed her whimpering. He felt bad, having to make her be a witness to all this - Alas, nothing could be done, and he completely destroyed the Asian’s head, letting out all the rage, frustration and any existent negative emotions that were bubbling in his heart. “Let’s go home, doll. You must want to take a loooong, warm bath and change into some fresh clothes. Get some good damn food, drink something. Just like old times.” Negan slung his arm around her shoulders, bringing her towards the RV, motioning for Simon to take over and leave those guys be, but neither could ignore the cries and sobs, nor the accusations of betrayal shot her way. Negan just brought her closer to his side and helped her up in the car.

Y/N barely had any power to speak - Instead, she just cuddled into Negan’s side, trying to wipe away the images of blood and gore that her old friends had become... All by the hand of the man she loved so much.

As promised, Negan had someone draw her a nice bath and got her a comfy set of clothes. By the time she was done, she threw herself on the bed, and Negan came over with a tray full of nicely cooked food for her. “You spoil me.” she chuckled breathlessly. “Only the best for my princess.” he gave her a side-smile, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching her eat. “Your hair’s still as much of a mess as before.” Y/N stopped eating. She felt guilty, for some reason. “Forgive me. I lost the tie you gave me.” she muttered. “I... Had a close call once. This guy, he... He grabbed me by the hair. Tried to, well... It doesn’t matter. But I cut my hair with my knife to escape, then killed him too. My hair was... So short and uneven. It was weird. I tried looking for it again, but it was lost in the swamp, so... Yeah. Sorry.” she explained, placing the food back on the tray. “N’aww, s’all cool, doll, don’t worry so much. It was just some hair tie I had around randomly.” he waved his hand at her dismissively. “It was the only thing you had left of your wife.” she muttered. “I know. It wasn’t difficult to figure out. So... Yeah. Sorry, again.” she gulped. “As smart as always.” Negan smirked. “God, I missed you.” he chuckled, still in disbelief that she’s alive. “What’s been going on - Since we parted, I mean.” he looked down for a little, before looking back at her. “Were you alone for long?” She hesitated. “I... Found my way to our spot. After a week. Pathetic, I know. I knew you waited for me... Thanks for the hoodie, by the way. It was very useful, especially during the winter.” she smiled weakly. “So... I went on the road. Two weeks... Or maybe more? I don’t know - But I found Rick and his group. They had just escaped a huge hoard of walkers from the farm they were living at. Many months, we were just on the road. It was... It was awful.” she muttered. “We found a prison. Made a few inmate friends. But it was awful... Not living there, no - Living there was really good actually. It’s just... So many bad guys terrorized us.” she shuddered. “The guy you killed... Glenn... His wife... She used to have two little sisters. Sweet little girls, innocent and giggly.” the woman bit her lip hard. “There was this old guy, a prisoner. He was creepy... Gave me bad vibes, but the women didn’t believe me. Said he was always helpful to them. He... He killed them. He- He decapitated the little girls, Negan! He was crazy!” she said, before she properly removed the hair from her face, showing a nasty scar around her neck. “Almost got me too. Nasty old man. Rick broke his hand, beating him almost to death. Maggie killed him as revenge, in the end.” she shuddered. “It never healed. Ugly scar will never leave.” she muttered pitifully. “Ugly scar, you say? What’s that nonsense.” Negan scoffed. “You’re as beautiful as I remember. You survived. You’re back here, with me. That’s all that matters.” he scolded her, before he pushed the tray a little to the side, getting a better seat on the bed and patting his lap. The way her cheeks flushed was so endearing and adorable, he couldn’t resist. “Come on, doll, don’t be shy. I want to get a better look at my beautiful girl.” reticent and timid, Y/N crawled on his lap, as his arms pulled her against his chest, a kiss on her forehead. “Go on. Negan’s here, no need to be afraid anymore.” he said, his kiss trailing down to her neck, going all the way across the white line that marked her skin. He could feel the soft vibrations of her giggle, as his stubble dragging along the thin, sensitive skin of her neck got tickled involuntarily. It only made Negan grip her body, as he playfully teased her more, just to hear those sweet sounds of hers. He hated hearing her cry all the time. He wanted to only ever see her smile and hear that lovely laugh of hers. “...I called out your name, you know.” through her giggles, the little statement felt so nostalgic and melancholic, that it made Negan stop and slowly retract, to get a better look at her. His heart sunk a little - He had promised to keep her safe so many times... He promised he’d be there whenever she’d call out for him. In that aspect, he failed her. Again. “Every time I was in danger, I called out for you. You never came... I’m not blaming you! I just... I don’t know why I did that. Maybe I just... I just hoped that... Maybe, somehow... You would come out of nowhere.” she admitted - Negan couldn’t help but smile at her - Damn, was she good. “Just like today, huh?” he couldn’t help but feel so smug - Even after three years, the instinct of calling out to him for protection, despite it being her, the protector, most of the time - It was the most endearing thing that Negan’s heard in his entire life. “That was really embarrassing, y’know?” she mumbled, looking away. “But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. What’s done is done. After all... After three years of calling out for you... You’re finally here. You’re not dead. I can’t believe you’re not dead. I-I... I don’t really know how to... I don’t know how to express properly what I’m feeling. I’m tragic at everything that doesn’t involve my body outright threatening to self-implode from fear - It’s always been this way. So... Even if it’s embarrassing as hell... I just want you to know that, you being alive... It’s the happiest I’ve ever been.” Negan couldn’t contain the ever growing grin on his face - Hell, he even had to shift his gaze away from that innocent, adorable face of hers, all bashful and shit - He dragged his hand down his face, ruffled away at his beard, all to stop the childish giddiness he was feeling. He couldn’t. “It’s been three years. It’s insane how much different our lives have been. You’ve been thriving and adapting so, so very well. You created a community... A whole community, and you’re their leader! Hundreds of them! You’ve become so strong and confident, and everyone’s relying on you. You’re so cool, you know? I wish I was there to see all this.” she sighed lowly. “Instead... I was on the run for months, and when we finally found a nice place to settle at the prison, I almost get killed a few times. A few of us got kidnapped too, by the psycho leader of another community - Called himself the Governor. He cut off Rick’s hand. He... He tortured and raped Michonne for days. I and Glenn were locked away in the room nearby, to hear everything. I don’t even want to imagine what he’d have done to me, if Michonne hadn’t pissed him off by biting his ear off.” she shuddered. “Bunch of us died because of him. A few of us almost died from a bad flu. It was awful. I think I was delirious for a few days too. Then, we get caught by a group of cannibals, of all things. More of us died again.” her eyes were gleaming with forming tears. “All of this... All of this... Three years... All by their side... And I get called a - A traitor. Why? I don’t get it. Am I really that bad? But even if I am - What have I done? Is it because I knew you, at the very beginning of the Apocalypse? Is that all? That sounds like a kinder garden reason, doesn’t it? But maybe it’s not me who’s wrong. Maybe it’s them. I can’t be a bad person for knowing you, can I? I can’t help loving you. It just happened.” Negan kissed her to shut up. “It’s been three god damn long, fucking years, doll. The man I was, and the man I am now - We’re different. Whatever those fuckers accuse you of, doesn’t matter. In the end, Negan’s here for you doll, a’ight? I’ve gotcha.” he kissed her again. “Besides - I  was supposed to be the one who talks too much, wasn’t I? When you speak so much, you’re usually afraid or overthinking or some stupid shit like that. That won’t do anymore, doll! No more silly thoughts around me! My pretty girl won’t be upset anymore. She’ll be safe here, among friends. I’ll make sure of that.” Y/N gave him an amused smirk. “Will your wives also take care of me? I should let you know, I got proposed to, in the prison. Twice. Both times, by women. One of them, in fact, wanted to marry me AND Rick and his wife. But you never did ask me out, did you?” her cheeky grin made him laugh, only to shove his hand in the pocket of his pants, but his fist was closed, as he looked at it with a leisure, dazzling grin.  “Well, love, ‘bout damn fucking time I change that, don’t you think?” opening his fist, he revealed a pretty ring. Nothing too flashy, but it sported her favourite colour scheme. “Used to be, you wore lots of pretty jewellery. Looked damn fine on you. Whatever fucker dared take them away from you, better wish he died, otherwise, I’ll fucking bash his head against the wall - But that only means I get to bring more gifts for my lovely girl.” Negan looked at her flabbergast expression - What begun as a joke, turned into an actual proposal, and it was such a hearfelt and very Negan-style one. He couldn’t help but feel his heart beat faster, watching the blush deepen on her face, and the way her beautiful eyes darted around, as if her brain had shortcircuited trying to come up with a proper response for it. With no better answer, she said just a single word. “Yes.” “Now that’s what I love to hear!” he laughed mirthfully, gingerly picking her hand and slipping the ring down her finger, only to place a small kiss on the back of her hand, and on the inside of her wrist. “If I’d known you were alive, they wouldn’t have existed. I gave them the option, to live a good life by my side, or work their place here, like the rest of the people. Can’t imagine any of those would rather give up their luxuries, even if that meant leaving their partners, y’know.” he let out a disapproving tut noise. “But you, Y/N. You’ll always be my lovely Y/N.” he said, pulling her flush against his chest. “Fuck those guys - They can’t appreciate you as you deserve. And fuck the world too - Fuck everyone else even. I’ll make sure you don’t have too see any of those dead fucks again, and like hell will I allow any threat to get anywhere close to you.” he declared boldly. “It’s been us, against everything, from the very beginning, and that’s how I intend to continue it, until this fucking mess finally ends.” “And if it doesn’t?” she asked timidly. “Well, love, I’d say I’ve still a good couple of years ahead of me to enjoy, with you by my side. What do you say? We’re not getting old, are we?” he chuckled, mimicking the forming grin on her face. She felt light, and happy - She was brightening up the whole room, and Negan’s heart, along with it. “Sounds about right to me.”

As the Sun was setting, and the Moon was out once more, Negan brought his dear wife up, and led her to the living room, lit up by candles. A radio was there, and he put a cassette on ; A bitter-sweet love song played. It was ‘When the Wild Wind Blows’ by Iron Maiden, the tale of a husband and wife who form a suicide pact, as they watch the end of the world sweep on them, from their fallout shelter. Unexpectedly fitting for their situation, but beautifully tragic, no less. The two held each other, as they swung and danced the night away, with Negan softly singing the lyrics, in that soothing, velvety voice of his, that never failed to lit afire every nerve in her body.

Negan held Y/N in his arms, her head against his chest - Surely, she could feel the way his heart beat to the rhythm of her own drum, but it was fine. He loved Y/N. It was perfectly fine.

For a few seconds, in his euphoric daze, an apparition flashed before his very eyes, freezing him on the spot - It was Lucille, and she was smiling at him, just like the good, old times. She offered him a nod, and then she disappeared.  Was this her way of forgiving him for all his wrong-doing? Was this her way of giving him the blessing of actually moving on, and truly falling in love with a new wife?  Was she going to erase all the nightmares that he had been plagued with?

Negan looked down at the beloved woman looking so comfortable in his arms, and he kissed her hair. “I love you, Y/N.” and finally, Negan didn’t feel guilty for having feelings for another woman anymore. “I love you.”

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead imagine #negan smith #negan smith x reader #negan imagine #negan smith imagine #negan x reader #negan

[airas-story]

The Ice

Stephen stepped out onto the ice, slowly and carefully, listening for any warning creaks.

It felt solid beneath him—an illusion, always an illusion—and he kept moving, slowly but surely toward the middle of the lake.

He felt alone, isolated on this frozen lake, surrounded by trees whose leaves had fallen and were now covered in a layer of frost and snow.

His breath came out in gusts of white, too fast and too quickly, a sign that he was not as composed as he wanted to be.

For a moment the ice seemed to creak beneath him and the cloak fluttered, as though moments away from pulling Stephen away and to the safety of the lake’s bank.

“No,” he told them, quiet but firm. “I have to do this.”

The cloak went tight around his shoulders, a firm embrace to protect Stephen from the cold.

It was a failed attempt. The icy cold inside his chest was far worse than the cold of the wind that nipped at him.

The dream—nightmare—the past few nights haunted him. It had been brought on by a rip between their dimension and the nightmare realm. The rip had been repaired, but that didn’t make the dream any easier to bear, now that it had been stirred up again.

It was an old nightmare, one that he’d thought he’d left behind years ago, as age and time had scarred the rip in his heart.

He closed his eyes and he saw the nightmare again.

Stephen, Donna whispered, the sound as chilling as an arctic wind. Her face was pale and her lips blue from where they’d frozen. Her eyes were empty, so very, very empty. Why didn’t you save me?

He swallowed. I tried, he thought. I tried. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry it—I—wasn’t enough.

It was the first and greatest failure of his life. The first real one, the one that had lit the fire beneath him that had demanded excellence, perfection, that had demanded that he never fail again.

Because the first failure had almost killed him.

Now, now he’d failed so many, interminable times, that his old fears felt almost laughable. Almost.

Because this? This was something he’d never be able to laugh about.

He reached the middle of the lake, and for a moment he could see them spinning around him. It was him and Donna, playing tag on the ice. She’d been it and he’d been racing away from her. He could hear them echoing like ghosts in his ears. Laughing.

The memory was visceral. A part of him thought that if he reached out he could catch her as she raced past him, that he could pull her close and keep her safe.

But he couldn’t, the figures running past him were nothing more than memories, and the laughter he could hear echoing in his ears was nothing more than his heart’s own haunting.

He’d been laughing when the ice had cracked. Had been laughing when she’d fallen through the ice.

It had been years before he’d laughed again.

He knelt slowly, could feel the cold of the ice against his knees where it seeped through the fabric of his pants.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He was talking to a ghost, a phantom from years past who couldn’t hear him, would never hear him. “I miss you,” he added. Because it was true, because after all these years it had to be said, because after all this time he had to let her go.

For a moment he could imagine her in front of him, eyes warm and smile so real it ached. There was never anything to forgive, the haunting whispered. I love you.

Stephen held onto it as though it were real.

He wondered what sort of woman Donna would have become. She had always been so brave, so fearless. She had lived bright and vivaciously. She had loved so fiercely.

The world was a darker place than it could have been, without her in it.

He didn’t know how long he knelt there, trying to put to rest the grief, trying to let go of the nightmare.

Donna was gone.

Stephen remained.

A shiver ran down his spine. It took effort to move, to push himself back to his feet.

In the end, the cloak helped him make it to his feet. He let out a heavy breath, watching the cloud of white disperse into the air.

The sun was starting to go down, Stephen noted as he stared up at the sky. How long had he been out here? The cold seemed to have penetrated through to the deepest layers of him. The wind nipped at his skin, his lips chapped, his cheeks frozen.

He made the slow trek off of the ice, listening once again for the cracks of the ice beneath him. The ice creaked, a low moan. The cloak flared again as though to lift him to safety, but it was unnecessary. The ice held firm beneath him.

Still, the cloak seemed to be pushing for him to move more quickly. To make his way off the ice.

He stepped onto the bank, firm ground beneath him and the cloak seemed to slump in relief.

“It wasn’t that scary,” Stephen murmured to the cloak gently. “It’s just ice.”

It was more than that, it was so much more than that. Both he and the cloak knew it, but Stephen wouldn’t put it to words, and the cloak couldn’t.

He turned away from the ice and felt the nightmare haunting him fade. Perhaps not gone, perhaps never gone. But for a moment, there was peace.

#stephen strange #fic #donna strange #nightmares #kind of weird writing a non IronStrange #I'll be back on my IronStrange train soon

[fellthemarvelous]

Let's talk about Maggie and Aziraphale

Once again, I am just screenshotting my tweets and posting them here because I have more to say and Twitter's platform doesn't let me talk long enough uninterrupted.

Make way for more unhinged meta!

I cannot get this idea out of my head, and before you tell me that I'm crazy, just listen. Okay?

I think Aziraphale looks at Edinburgh as his Greatest Failure™️ because humanity and Crowley both paid the price for Aziraphale's mistake. It was a night that shook Aziraphale's confidence in himself, and it was a clear turning point for his understanding of shades of grey. He learned a valuable lesson at a horrific cost.

There is no possible way he has forgiven himself for Edinburgh.

When you are supposed to be the epitome of good, every single failure that carries any sort of weight sticks with you for the rest of your life because of the overwhelming guilt that comes with it. As someone who struggles with Catholic guilt...

Trust me. I know what I'm talking about.

Why does Maggie have a connection to a pub called the Resurrectionist, located in Edinburgh not far from the Gabriel statue in the cemetery where Wee Morag died and Crowley was sucked down into Hell? The Resurrectionist representing both Jesus Christ and Mr. Dalrymple.

Why does Aziraphale insist on taking the Bentley to Edinburgh with him?

He's scared to go back, and he's not risking Crowley's life again by bringing him along, but he takes the Bentley because it's an extension of Crowley, it makes him feel safe, and neither Heaven or Hell care for material objects and won't end up separating them again. It's a lifeline to Crowley while he's doing something without him and ensuring that Crowley won't be able to jump in and save him at the last minute if things go wrong.

He's scared to go back but he was getting extra copies of Every Day from one particular location nowhere near his bookshop before he even heard Jim singing it in the bookshop. And all of this ended up bringing him back to the statue of Gabriel where it all went wrong the first time Aziraphale and Crowley went to that cemetery together.

But I think the connection to Maggie is Elspeth. I keep going back and forth between her and Wee Morag, but Elspeth currently makes the most sense to me. I briefly wrote about the idea of lost souls and second chances here, but I'm still on the fence about it.

We don't know what Elspeth did with Aziraphale's money, but we know it was enough to turn her life around. We don't know who Maggie's great-great-grandmother is, but she has been keeping a little corner of the bookshop to "sell records" for Mr. Fell since the 1920s.

But if you look at the record art for Maggie's bookshop, some of them include all their tracks on the cover and they are telling actual stories. I've talked about Maggie's record shop before on this post. I'm still not sure what I believe, but the idea of it being Aziraphale's personal records keeps sticking with me. He's been around for a long time and there is a lot to keep up with.

Why is it so important to him that Maggie gets to dance with Nina? He told Nina he threw the ball so she would see that Maggie is in love with her, the same way he was going to use it to tell Crowley he loved him, but he was so delighted to see Maggie and Nina dance together.

And Aziraphale's love for Maggie isn't one-sided because she stays behind to help him even though she's up against something more powerful than herself. She refuses to leave him alone. She might be annoyed that he was interfering in her love life, but he's always been good to her and is probably the closest thing to family she has (we only ever see Crowley, Aziraphale and Nina talk to her).

She said she "had" brothers. Past tense. She stands up to Shax because she's no longer scared of...something. Nina tells Shax that Maggie is the bravest person she knows. Maggie comes up with the idea to spray the demons with the fire extinguishers. It might have been silly but it proves that humans are ready to fight back using whatever tools we have at our disposal.

Why didn't we know of her existence in season 1? We saw Maggie's chattering nun die onscreen. Was she one of Adam's additions to Aziraphale's bookshop? Where did she come from? Does Adam remember her face from when he was an infant? Sister Mary Loquacious (formerly) told Aziraphale and Crowley that the nuns had been very good at keeping records, but they all burned in the fire.

But Adam got a very good look at the faces of Sister Mary Loquacious and Sister Theresa Garrulous. He was an infant but he was still the son of Satan.

So is Maggie an Adam creation? Is she somehow related to Elspeth's existence? Why is she so important to Aziraphale?

#good omens #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #maggie and nina #elspeth and wee morag #chattering nuns

[dyvimwhitehart]

there is no other version of this story

They were never going to let him go with her. They were never going to let anyone go with her. The prophecy says it’s her, and her alone.

or,

The Wizard and Dyvim Whitehart are forced to part ways at the end of the Kondha Desert, right before entering The Hive.

READ ON A03 FOR ADDITIONAL COMMENTS.

She should have seen this coming.

Still, the whirring and clanking of the Solar Arc— now at full power— initially makes her think she’s misheard. Emperor Yoshihito (or rather, his golden apparition) keeps a level face despite the slight snark in his tone.

“The Hive is not the place for your friend, Dyvim Whitehart. His courage is without measure, but this is a task for Wizards, yes?”

There’s a pause that implies he wants some kind of verbal confirmation from her. Amber’s brows furrow, grip on her wand tightening. Her jaw sets as she forces herself to hold her tongue. The Emperor continues giving what are undoubtedly important instructions, but this has evoked a rare moment of distraction in her.

When he says Dyvim’s name in that tone of voice, what is he insinuating?

On paper, Yoshihito’s words are kind. Nothing he’s said is necessarily untrue. But the Council has always showed up at the most inopportune times, their visits jarring enough that Amber almost wishes they’d just let her take matters fully into her own hands. There’s very little they’ve aided in from so far away that she wouldn’t have been able to figure out on the ground. And from that lofty vantage point, safe and comfortable in Ambrose’s well-lit Wizard City tower, they doubt Dyvim’s ability?

Where were they when Fort Rachias had to be stormed? Where were they when the meat-eaters of the Kondha Desert bared their teeth? Where were they when she crash-landed through the broken spiral door of an unknown world dubbed the heart of darkness, forced to fend for herself?

A Council of some of the greatest forces, both magical and political, in the Spiral claimed they could do near-nothing for her in Khrysalis, only for their slack to be picked up by a single, war-torn knight?

She remembers rushing into the Last Wood to escape Queen Sabina’s guards and being met with Diego. He’d seen it all, what they thought was Dyvim’s death included… and all he’d had to say was I know the path is hard.

She could’ve told him that.

Covered in pollen and mud, laying on the singed forest floor, speedrunning yet another loss, another failure— she could’ve told him that!

It brings the anger she’s been trying to keep in check bubbling to the surface. But that anger feels selfish and misplaced at a time like this. Morganthe is a mere portal away and she’s seething over her mentors.

Amber’s mind wanders to Dyvim standing somewhere outside the door, waiting to see her again.

She should have seen this coming. They were never going to let him go with her. They were never going to let anyone go with her. The prophecy says it’s her, and her alone.

It seems letting her guard down has made her foolish enough to forget that.

“Wizard? Do you hear me?”

Amber’s attention snaps back to the Emperor. He can tell she hasn’t been listening and repeats himself. A grand portal has appeared beside him. As usual, it’s all happening too fast and she’s required to roll with it.

“Use this portal to take you to the Atramental Gate. Diego is waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I’m just going to step outside and say goodbye to Dyvim. He’ll want to know I’m closing in on Morganthe. And that he won’t be able to travel there with me,”  

Yoshihito exhales heavily. “I’m afraid I must send you on your way now. We cannot afford to waste time,”

“Waste time?” she parrots. “It wouldn’t be a waste. He’s come all this way with me when no one else would. If I can’t take him to The Hive with me, the least I can do is tell him that to his face. He won’t leave the desert without confirmation that I’ve succeeded here,”

Titans forbid she die in The Hive, in the Shadow Queen’s webby grip. His well-wishes would not carry her far enough over the threshold of death to put her at rest. She’d be cursed to wander the pits of the Arachna sanctum; a lost spirit begging to remedy some unfinished business.

She hadn’t taken their exchange outside seriously enough. She’d fallen into the trap of comfort his presence provided her with and assured herself she’d see him again beyond the trials of the Solar Arc.

“This is a time-sensitive quest. The Council can only appear here for so long, especially when so close to the Shadow. If you do not go now, Diego will be unable to aid you,”

I could do it without him, she wants to say. But if she snaps, the Spiral snaps with her.

“I understand, Your Majesty.”

With what feels like blocks of lead weighing down her boots, Amber takes a step past the Emperor and toward the Atramental Gate portal. It thrums with a power familiar to her. It’s just another point of no return.

Learned discipline keeps her from turning her head back toward the desert. She is dutiful and precise, yes, but also a natural isolato. The combined power of Necromancy and Shadowmancy now under her belt further banishes her to a life of lonely roads and occasional allies. Her head and heart wage a separate war within her, the latter’s army begging her not to regret letting Dyvim in. Or leaving him behind.

“Wizard,” the Emperor says. “I will ensure Dyvim Whitehart returns to Bastion, to continue his good work there.”

She nods.

She knows better, now, than to momentarily believe the Council would grant her a moment of grace. The thought doesn’t even cross her mind.

Perhaps it’s for the better. Now, she can focus on her mission without any distractions. Dyvim brings out the big-heart in her, the thing she’s been forced to bury deep in order to shoulder so much of the Spiral’s suffering. When she does good deeds, it’s almost mechanical. When she receives praise, it’s like playing music for a headstone. But when he makes her laugh, she forgets she’s part of some grand plan beyond being by his side.

“Be safe,”

Do they care if she lives or dies beyond what doom it would spell for the Spiral? Who would miss the Azure Shining One of Song, and who would miss Amber?

She steps through the portal before she has the chance to become more person than prophecy.

She makes a mental note to survive not just for the sake of the Spiral, but for the sake of seeing him again.

----

He’s under the impression that it’ll take hours to finish what needs to be done within the Solar Arc. The sheer power of the place is enough to nearly knock him off his feet, but Dyvim stands strong at his post by the rock outcropping beyond the Barbarian camp.

There isn’t a doubt in his mind that she’ll be able to find her way back to him whenever she’s completed her… training, or whatever it is she’s doing. He’ll wait for an hour or so longer and then trek back across the deep desert to the Hopper camp before dusk falls. Hopefully, the good deeds they’ve done for Queen Jade-Eye are enough to starve off her subjects. If not, he won’t hesitate to raise his sword against them.

It’s strange being here. The Kondha Desert is the stuff of legend to someone who hails from across the Starfall Sea. It’s a harsh, tormented place— the beige opposite of his beloved Last Wood. Still, he reminds himself there was once a time where trees sprouted in this place and Hoppers didn’t have to ration their water. In comparison to this place, the Last Wood is lucky. It’s the Last Wood for a reason.

He remembers hearing murmurs among other Burrowers after waking up from his poison-induced nap about saplings being planted in the Burn, hoping to regrow the Last Wood. The noble Spellbinder is much too humble to brag about such a thing. It warms his heart regardless and leaves him wondering if they could bring green back to the desert too, in the aftermath of all this.

Dyvim lifts a foot, marveling at the sandy print left beneath it. Who would’ve guessed he’d make it this far?

Him, a simple Burrower Knight, on the fast-track to taking down the Shadow Queen. To avenging his ancestors, his people. The ones who never lived during a period of hope such as this.

A low hum begins to reverberate through the area. Dyvim immediately turns to the Solar Arc, suspecting some sort of shift. What he’s met with instead is a spirit of sorts, yellow-gold in color and looking nothing like any native of Khrysalis he’s ever seen, he immediately reaches for his weapon.

“Stay back!” he orders. To his dismay, confusion saturates his voice. He levels himself out before continuing. “State your business here,”

Perhaps it’s a mirage. Perhaps this valley really is cursed, and the entities are here to drive him back. Or maybe he’s gotten too close to the Arc and this is one of its guardians. Or, he’s severely dehydrated.

Then, the mirage speaks to him.

“Dyvim Whitehart,”

His voice is low and collected. Dyvim’s ears twitch, gaze focused on the apparition no matter how deeply he wants to look back toward the Arc’s entrance.

“How do you know my name, spirit?”

“I am no spirit. I am a projection from elsewhere in the Spiral, a member of the Council of Light sent to aid the Wizard.”

Dyvim sheathes his weapon, but keeps his hand on the hilt just in case.

The Spellbinder has mentioned the Council to him a few times, albeit always briefly. He’s always gotten the impression that she felt slightly abandoned by them. Looking over this figure now, he realizes there is a bitter taste in his mouth as well on her behalf.

“Forgive my forcefulness, then. What brings you here now? How may I be of help?” There’s a brief spark of worry in him, and his eyes widen. “Your champion is currently within the Solar Arc. Is everything alright?”

The councilmember stays just as serene. It’s difficult to make him out against the dust of the desert, but at the very least, his expression stays the same.

“The Wizard has completed the trials of the Solar Arc and opened a portal to the Atramental Gate outside of The Hive’s entrance. I was inside assisting her and am here to tell you she is well.”

“Really? What wonderful news! I didn’t doubt her for a second,” He removes his hand from his sword. “The Atramental Gate is back toward the entrance of the desert. Could you let her know that I’ll meet her there by morning? With the help of the Hoppers, I’ll be able to cross faster,”

“This is not all I have to tell you. While I speak for the entire Council of Light when I say we are grateful for your bravery and loyalty to the Wizard, we cannot allow you to follow her further.”

A gust of wind blows, but Dyvim stands his ground. “I don’t understand. The last place she should be on her lonesome is the heart of darkness!”

The Solar Arc he understood. He is no student of magic, nor would he benefit from the teachings within. But The Hive? The Shadow Palace? Both places of dark magic, yes, but legendary battles as well? If he could storm Fort Rachias, he could do this as well.

“This is for your safety as well as hers, Dyvim Whiteheart—”

“Nonsense! You have no tie to me. This is about your prophecy, isn’t it? The one that said she had to come to this world alone? The one that says she alone will dispel the Shadow Queen?”

“Well, if you would allow me to finish. Yes. We cannot risk jeopardizing what was sung by the Lords of Night. You have been an invaluable ally to the Wizard, but from this point on, you would only distract her from her mission.”

His ears flatten somewhat, an exasperated sound escaping him. “What? That’s—”

“This is not a matter of debate. She has already left us, you see. Another Council member was waiting for her at the doors of The Hive. The best course of action going forward is to return to Bastion and continue the fight there. We are on the heels of the Shadow, after all.”

“It doesn’t have to be me! Please, just… just send someone with her. A Council member, even. Anyone,”

It’s not that he doesn’t believe she can take Morganthe down on her own. She could move entire worlds with the flick of her wrist, rewrite galaxies with the bat of an eye. It’s that she shouldn’t have to do so by herself. Not when there are so many others who could help her shoulder the weight. He knows his words are falling on deaf ears, but he can’t help it. Never one to beg for anything, Dyvim pleads.

He cannot go home knowing that he may never see her again.

But he must go home and serve his people.

“I am running out of time,” the councilmember says. “Allow me to grant you an easy return to Bastion for your heroics.” A beat. “It’s what she wanted you to do.”

Dyvim swallows down a dry breath before straightening up. “Have you a portal for me as well?”

The apparition begins to flicker and distort. Still, the councilmember within it nods, gesturing to a small whirlpool of magic beside him. Dyvim spares the Solar Arc— and the larger Kondha Desert— one last look before stepping inside.

In the blink of an eye, he ends up in what he knows is Sardonyx. The unmistakable sound of mantis chitter sounds off around him as the Fifth Column members keep up their valiant efforts. Just as he suspected, when he turns, he’s beside the portal that has been set up between the city and Silent Market. The Council of Light must’ve used up the majority of their power arguing with him, not that he gave them much of a choice.

He wastes no time heading back across the sea. The second portal spits him out in a body of water within Silent Market. Immediately, he catches the attention of Burrower merchants and Fifth Column members alike. It’s then that the exhaustion sinks in.

Dyvim waves away the curious eyes and ears, giving them short responses as he treks through to Bastion. He doesn’t know exactly who he’s looking for as he does so.

Or rather, he does— but she’s in The Hive. And he’s here. And she’s there. And he takes no reconciliation in his safety.

Eventually, Zaltanna finds him. He’s wandering around the base of the Broken Tower, trying to decide how to enter the throne room and break the news to King Mourningsword.

“Mouse!” her familiar voice rings out. He lifts his head and sees her jogging up the stone steps. “What are you doing back here!? Where’s the Spellbinder?”

“She’s still across the sea. They’ve sent her to The Hive,” his voice is still hoarse and stopped-up from the sand.

Or that’s what he’s choosing to believe.

Zaltanna chitters to herself, keeping her composure as she holds her scythe close. He’s come to recognize that as a sign that she’s deep in thought.

“Who’s they?”

“The almighty Council of Light. Now that she’s encroaching on the Shadow Queen, she must quest alone. Devoid of distractions,”

“That’s what they told you?” she cocks her head to the side.

“Yes, that’s what they told me.” There’s a moment of silence between them. They listen to the running water, both their minds occupied with what the inside of The Hive must look like. Dyvim breaks the silence with a sigh. “This could be the end, Zaltanna.”

Of the war.

Of the Spellbinder.

“She’ll succeed. She has to,” Zaltanna throws her scythe over her shoulder. “I’ve never met someone so gratingly stubborn,” She looks him up and down. “Well, aside from you. It’s no wonder you make a good team,”

He can recognize a bone thrown in his direction when he sees it. Dyvim offers her a small, strained smile.

“Perhaps,”

“I’ve never seen you directionless, Mouse. It’s disorienting to me. I’d like you to stop. Where is it that you need to go?”

He nods in the direction of the throne room. “I must inform the King. That way he can pass the news on to Queen Sabina and the Last Wood. I want all hands on deck,”

Zaltanna takes the first step forward. “I’ll accompany you there.”

“That’s kind of you, Zaltanna,”

She only hums in response. He’ll defrost her fully another day.

Dyvim straightens up as they ascend the steps to the throne room. It hadn’t taken a lot of effort to convince King Pyat to let him across the sea, but there’s still a degree of shame in returning like this. Each guard is surprised to see him, a domino of wide eyes that lead to the shocked face of his ruler.

“Dyvim?” he says, sitting up further on his throne. “Tell me, what news comes from the Kondha Desert? Where is the Spellbinder?”

He doesn’t have to glance at Zaltanna to know she’s watching him out of the corner of her eye. He takes a deep breath, mustering the strongest voice he can as he looks upon his king.

“I am here to report, your majesty, that the Wiz— Amber. That Amber is currently within The Hive and closing in on the Shadow Queen. Our war is about to be won.”

He has to believe that.

He has to make it sound believable.

#wizard101 #wizard101 fic #dyvim whitehart #wizzy fandom #wizard101 fanfiction #you ever get spurned so hard by some old cow you write a whole fic. well

[osovereign]

♚ ╼ ⟨ @iniquitousideals ⟩

“So, you’ve finally decided to come crawling back to me,”  Mithos advances toward Kratos slowly and -- given some time -- begins to circle him as a predator would its prey. Well, that wasn’t far off from the truth, was it? He despised humans, and the more Kratos was to hurt him, the closer he was to being thrown in with the lot of them. To never being trusted. To being despised. Once that was done, there was no going back.  It’s odd, as much as it had been claimed that he hated Kratos all this time, it still wasn’t the truth. He still held on to the tiniest shred of hope. One day, Kratos would believe in him. One day, he would stay. He would be his teacher again. He would be his father. He would believe in him.  “what happened this time? Did you not find what you were looking for? I’m beginning to think you enjoy toying with me, Kratos.”

         ❛     mithos i  ,   ❜ he needs to micromanage his words, kratos knew the consequences of having a tongue with to much bark and bite. the mannerisms of his first greatest delight, of his first greatest pride  and failure! circled him as a hunter did prey, as the strong did the weak. if tasked kratos could never stop writing aselia’s greatest epic about how its greatest savior became its villain, of how the supposed most holy city was filled with wild wicked creatures who resembled more daemon than human  he most of all. those whom lied as if it was a second skin upon their lips, a natural occurrence as telling the truth was to others.

even this age old man was akin to selling falsehoods as absolutes. talk about yourself, mask it as another. grasp death inside the grave you dug on-top your living corpse and watch as you fall deeper into your own darkness.  mentally, physically, emotionally, and perhaps some other fourth thing the half-elf kratos met, befriended, and cherished from four thousand years ago still lived buried underneath an aeons worth of distaste and hatred. lying had gotten him nowhere though. he needed to try a new approach, he wanted to do things differently this time. maybe... just maybe the wrongs of yesterday could be corrected and his makeshift found family could coexist with his blood. he needed it, desired it. craved it.  

     his strides ever confident, ever intimidating, ever fluid. he drops to his knees not far off from the blond man and absentmindedly fiddles with the sheath of his sword. physically, kratos made himself smaller but his spirit was that of a warrior, of a hero of yore. was it crawling back if he just wanted a piece of his heart back? it was not enough to follow another’s idealism and belief’s without question. he had learned this lesson the hard way ( full forced / full fledged genocide ): was it better to deceive or be deceived? he knew the answer, it didn’t even need to leave his lips.

        ❛     what i seek has long been found. i am simply trying to pick up the pieces as best a mere man can..   ❜ truth. honestly. even if it killed him, even if it led to the same conclusion. kratos would not know unless he tried and fuck, did this self loathing angel want to fucking try. ❛ stars could explode, aselia could cease to exist, and i may never correct all of my mistakes--  ❜ he pauses. licking his lips, palms digging crescent indents into his fists. ❛ but you, mithos: will never be a mistake to me. my most precious student, my friend. my first son. ❜

     the last words spoken on his tongue as a silent broken prayer. they’d had this talk a thousand times before. some ending in battle, all ending in seemingly betrayal. sometimes with yuan, but usually alone. if a higher being did exist and not one crafted of his own two hands then kratos had but one desire of it, one wish, one prayer: give him their happiness back.

#iniquitousideals #❛ ♚ verse: o the world you’ve curated is one of false ideals and false gods ┊ ⟨ cruxis seraphim ⟩ #❛ ♚ holy psalms flow from a ruined throat. ╼ ⟨ ic ⟩

[azurillturtle]

oc asks: not-so-nice edition

...all of them for risechan. :D

this is mean, least obvious anon to ever anon.

alone: takes being alone poorly. sulks and goes hunting someone to hang out with. do not leave her alone, disaster will ensue.

betrayal: depends on the AU. betrayed when yuuki eats her cake!!! traitor, only when she's the token party traitor in Tales AU (for good reasons!!!)

bound: depends on AU, probably has been captured for any of the ones involving violence. generally she is either heroically rescued or, in one notable instance, breaking herself and everyone else out puts her down the path to a Life Of (Mafia) Crime. scars would make sense but i haven't thought that deeply.

break: would break down if you took away her ayatan ;~; ...if she lost the two people she cares most about. and/or her pokemon. basically goes listless and quiet and won't speak to anyone or do anything. no one's seen her at her lowest because it won't happen thanks.

desire: she desires strawberry shortcake and everyone knows it. she would commit any crime short of murder.

failure: this one time she tripped and spilled her boba!!!

fear: dunno about greatest, but she doesn't like ghosts lol scream + run away + yell that yuuki put them in her presence again

future: worst possible future... mmmm losing aya and other friends (see: break). idol-specific, i guess there's the possibility of big scandal

ghost: she is haunted by yuuki's ghost pokemon ;-; (other than that, not much really. sometimes she's the one doing the haunting)

guilt: this one time she ate the last king pudding that tamaki was saving and got too scared to fess up to it

hate: hates bugs and spiders and ghosts and people who are bullies and also boys. what are boys. have i ever seen them. tsuuuuun.

heartbreak: looool she's too tsundere to have a relationship that ends badly. you have to really commit to get her affection level high enough in the first place.

hide: ...the dere I guess! mostly because it's super embarrassing. :x

hunt: she is unfortunately hunted down by people who inexplicably have romantic feelings for her and/or (idol) want her autograph. she's never on the alert and always taken by surprise.

mask: no literal or figurative mask except when (idol) going in disguise

midnight: kept up at night if worried about her friends, for whatever reason, or if something super embarrassing has happened that's playing on loop in her head. if she's up late and should be sleeping she's probably playing an otome game--

mistake: this one time she got distracted while making chocolate and added salt instead of sugar and it was ruined forever. no, she will never recover.

monster: she's... i don't think she's monstrous at all but sometimes she has monsters in her pocket. they are very cute.

nightmare: she'll dream that she is drowning in whipped cream and wake up screaming and tell aya about it in an attempt to convince her they should go for kakigoori today instead

pain: the worst pain she has ever felt was when aya took the last cookie without asking

secret: .........................her deepest secret is who she has a crush on

skin: mmm pretty comfortable in her own skin, but mostly because she doesn't really think about it. no monsters here! her usual method of dealing with things she doesn't like (including her own problems) is to ----------------> so!

torture: haven't thought about it but probably has been tortured in one of the darker AUs. would not torture anyone else.

wound: handles being wounded with whining and complaining and wobbly eyes. mostly physical wounds when she gets overexcited and trips and falls again. the worst wound was probably the salted chocolate incident i guess

#why'd you even bother sending this anon lol

[caes-funnyarc]

more oc stuff (again, if you know the original poster of these, do let me know !! i will add credit!!)

(these and one other that i'll post without credit were done far before i decided to post them, and therefore do not have credit. let me know if you know who posted these!)

TW for: body injury, abuse,

more oc stuff

-alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

🌸Dominic is extremely bad with being alone. He’s been alone very often (his adoptive parents both work), but it’s all down to his experience in the woods. He’s paranoid when he’s alone, examining the room for every exit, every way out, every incident. He itches at his skin, almost ripping at the seams in long periods of solitude from anxiety.

-betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

🌸Dominic was, of course, betrayed by his biological parents until he was 6. He almost died because of their betrayal. In Dominic’s hometown, he frequently ghosted people who trusted him. He has no explanation as to why. He just couldn’t stand to be relied on, or to rely on someone to care for him. He doesn’t struggle with this as much now, but he’s still a little reluctant.

-bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

🌸Never imprisoned, but definitely has been held against his will in school. He was around 8 years old. His nervous tendencies when being alone caused him to be held in the counselour’s office until his adoptive parents could come get him. He refused to stay still in the classroom, and then when his teacher grabbed him he began to scream. His parents enrolled him in a different school after this incident.

-break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

🌸Dominic would break down in many situations. The woods scare him so entirely that it consumes him. Dominic freezes in place, crying and on the floor. He gasps for breath, crying and trying to scream but nothing can come out. His adoptive parents have seen him at his lowest, as they found him in the woods. 

-desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

🌸Dominic wants to put his trust into someone. He is not at all open with this desire. It scares him to trust, but he so deeply wants to be loved entirely for who he is. He hates his own fear.

-failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

🌸Dominic’s greatest personal failure (in his own eyes) is his own fear. He feels that he’s locked away from the world. Romance doesn’t come easily to him, and he doesn’t experience things the way he feels most others do. He thinks that he has failed.

-fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

🌸Dominic fears abandonment. It kills him every moment he thinks about it. It generally makes him a huge people pleaser. He hides this fear away, as he’s afraid to inconvenience anyone. Even when he wants to beg people to stay and not leave him alone, he pushes it down and ends up found with scratches and in a state of constant paranoia. It takes a while to calm him down.

-future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

🌸He’s terrified of a future where he’ll be left again. By his parents, by his friends, by a potential lover, anyone. He’s so afraid. He knows it’s a possibility. That’s the worst part.

-ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

🌸One thing that haunts Dominic more than anything is an action from when he was 15. He was friends with a girl in freshman year. She eventually fell in love with him, and this scared him badly enough that he completely backed away and ghosted her. At that time, he was just transitioning. He was terrified of what would happen, should she get to know him. He feels awful every single day, but each time he dials her number, he can’t bring himself to press call.

-guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

🌸Many, many things. The incident with the girl eats him alive. He also feels terrible for all the times that he ran away from his problems.

-hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

🌸Dominic hates the way his biological parents haunt him through his life. He hates how when he looks in the mirror, he sees his father. In really bad episodes, he’s been known to shatter his mirrors.

-heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

🌸Dominic has been in only one relationship, when he was 13. It ended on good terms, but the guy simply lost feelings. Dominic was absolutely destroyed about it, seeing as it felt like he was being left behind.

-hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?

🌸Dominic hides his top surgery scars. He doesn’t want people to know that he isn’t how he was born. He loves himself and he’s happier for it, but he’s afraid that others will leave him because of it. He pushes down a lot of silly, small things about himself to make sure that he’ll still be loved.

-hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

🌸  Dominic is almost constantly alert. There are certain people that he finally feels like he can relax with. Whenever he’s alone, he is on constant guard. His paranoia hunts him every single day.

-mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

🌸Dominic tries to be passive, quiet, and unassuming. With certain people, though (particularly the one person he’s got romantic interest in), he can be loud, funny, and joking around. His natural self (that he isn’t repressing) is always energetic and all over the place. Eventually, he will drop his mask entirely. But now? He’s a coward.

-midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

🌸Dominic used to have frequent nightmares, where he’d be wandering in the woods for hours. He is obviously always anxious, and wakes up paranoid.

-mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

🌸The mistake with the girl when he was 15 scares him. All of the times he’s ran away kill him inside.

-monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?  

🌸Dominic sometimes wakes up in random places. Is it sleepwalking? Something else? He sure doesn’t know!

-nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

🌸Dominic keeps his nightmares (previously mentioned) to himself for a long, long time. He can’t help but contain it and never let anyone know. At some point, he gives up and breaks down to someone after he hasn’t slept for days. He cries and cries to them, telling them all about his nightmares and what he’s experiencing.

-pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?

🌸One of the worst pains was when he had to have his bones rebroken to heal properly by a doctor after he was found by his adoptive parents in the woods. He has a decently high pain tolerance, but things still get to him. 

-secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

🌸Dominic never wants anyone to find out that he isn’t “normal.” He hates the idea of being perceived as strange or odd, but can’t help having nervous breakdowns and behaviors. He goes to extreme extents to cover his anxiety and his tendencies. He reaches super far to cover his natural personality.

-skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

🌸Dominic loves his appearance now. To put it literally, though, it was a very long journey before he was comfortable with his body.

-torture: Has your OC ever been tortured? Would your OC ever torture someone else?

🌸He has only ever been mentally tortured by his father. (boombox incident.) He would only ever consider torture CONSENSUALLY with another person.

-wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

🌸 Dominic has mostly mental and emotional wounds. He handles physical wounds very well. Once, he entirely broke one of his legs after suffering a pretty bad fall. He just sat up, looked at the leg, and laughed. He does get help, though. This is commonplace for him. The worst wound he has EVER experienced is one that left a diagonal scar across his stomach. He suffered a deep cut there as a small child because of the incident in the woods. It was a curious animal which he tried to pet. It got scared and immediately slashed him. It is part of what put him in critical condition. 

#tw injury #tw bodily injury #tw broken bones #tw abuse #oc stuff #theo's oc #dominic dotty

[islndgurl777]

Not to give you so much homework but all of them for Ty and all of them for Mina. Please 💙

Putting this under a cut because it got long : /

Ps- you only got so much because I’ve been dealing with my-body-hates-me disease all day and this has distracted me next time I can’t guarantee I’ll do so many at once!

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

Ty- he’s used to being alone, it doesn’t bother him, but he does love hanging out with his siblings.

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

Ty- no

Mina- no, but that’s not to say she wouldn’t.

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

Ty- no

Mina- no

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

Ty- I think… he’s lost both his parents, and he hasn’t really processed pepper’s death yet so he could be very close to hitting rock bottom, and I think if he did he’d probably shut down.

Mina- Bea’s the only one alive who’s seen her at her lowest, and if she lost Bea, idek what she’d do. I, Crystal, would kill Kage though.

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

Ty- to be comfortable in his own skin and know who he is.

Mina- revenge.

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

Mina- in her eyes, not being fast enough. No

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

Ty- being abandoned, though he doesn’t realize that’s what it is.

Mina- heights. (lie)

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

Mina- watching Bea be murdered in front of her again. Yes and yes.

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

Ty- right now, the fact that his mom died in a completely unexpected way, with strangers

Mina- ask me again when you’ve gotten her tragic backstory and I will send you the fic I wrote.

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

Ty- he feels guilty for not being there for pepper to protect her when she died. So he’s going to protect the others to compensate

Mina- she doesn’t handle her guilt well.

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

Ty- has never hated anyone or anything his entire life

Mina- she hates the ones who’ve hurt her and she’s ready to do whatever it takes to get her revenge.

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

Ty- literally had not thought about it until right this second, but now that I have: he had a relationship that ended because they were incompatible. It wasn’t messy or mean, just not meant to be, and he’s still a little tender about it.

Mina- no, she doesn’t let anyone get that close.

hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?

Ty- has nothing to hide

hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

Ty- nothing

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

Ty- no, he’s a pretty honest guy. Except for when he lied about not being a vegetarian. He wants people to like him.

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

Ty- right now his anxieties might give him a restless night; if he’s up instead of sleeping he’d make up stories and tell them to Little Guy. That’s the kind of thing he’d do with his siblings when they were younger

Mina- what ifs keep her up. What if she’d done something differently? What if x happens to Bea? Etc. If she’s up in the middle of the night she’s pacing or she’s practicing with her mother’s weapon.

mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

Ty- ever trusting any of his siblings with his secrets, they are all blabbermouths.

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

Mina- doesn’t think of herself as monstrous, she sees herself as justified, but for sure some of the things she’s done and will/would do could be seen as monstrous.

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

Ty- his dad dying in front of him; he does not tell anyone about them. And now he’s got a nightmare where he’s searching for his mom but he can’t find her

Mina- watching Bea bleed out in front of her and Mina’s stuck in place and can’t help her and there’s the scent of blood and burning flesh and her eyes burn but she can’t look away from Bea but she can’t move and there’s the sound of a bolt cutting through the air and that’s when she wakes up in a cold sweat and sometimes she can still smell it and she throws up over the side of the bed.

pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?

Ty- he’s a big guy who grew up with a small family, he has bumped into and accidentally stepped on and broke so many things… he’s never been seriously injured though.

Mina- has a high pain tolerance. Worst pain was when she got shot a couple of times.

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

Mina- that deep down she really hates her goddess.

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

Ty- not very? It was weird for him to grow up so big in a family of people who are so small. He feels very out of place and it makes him really sad.

torture: Has your OC ever been tortured? Would your OC ever torture someone else?

Ty- no

Mina- yes

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

Ty- he handles it okay, but most of his wounds right now are emotional.

Mina- sucks it up, does what she can, and keeps on trucking forward. Worst pain was losing her mom.

#Mina #Ty #crystal plays dnd

[oneshotsandheadcanons]

Prompt List

"I will love you in this life, and the next, and the rest."

"We're better off as friends."

"I can't just leave my life to move halfway across the world for you."

"No matter how far apart we are, we'll always be together."

"If you walk out now, don't ever come back."

"Work Buddies by chance, friends by choice."

"Nothing could ever make me forget you."

"You left. You left me broken, and now I'm fixed, you wanna come back?"

"Why do I need anyone else, when I have you?"

"Oh you're back. Leave."

"Has anyone ever told you you're mean without coffee?"

"Before you show me that, we're not getting another pet."

"I came home to everything gone, including you."

"The only thing stopping your murder is the fact there's no Disney films in prison."

"If only I'd known you were weathering this storm alone."

"You're lying. You can't love me. No one can."

"Now that she/he's bored, you're back?"

"I want you to stay, but I know that's selfish. So go, I'll be okay."

"How in the world do you forget to tell someone you've been STABBED?"

"Why would I be here, if I didn't love you?"

"I got over you once and it hurt, I'm not prepared to do it again."

"I hate you, and I don't why I ever thought I loved you."

"I love everything about you, you're perfect."

"I'm done running."

"Are you here to kill me or kiss me? Both work."

"After everything I've done for you, this is the thanks I get?"

"Can you please explain how a trip to the store ended up with you in another COUNTRY?"

"You want me to save the world? You are my world, so let me save you."

"You were my greatest failure."

"A thousand lifetimes doesn't mean anything, if I'm not spending them with you."

"I don't need you to protect me, I can protect myself."

"Were you really just jealous of my sibling?"

"Clearly you don't trust me, so get out."

"You can't take back the choice you made. Now, you've got to deal with the consequences."

"I never knew what true happiness was until I met you."

#writing prompt #writing drabble #writing #drabble #prompt #prompt list

[darklordazalin]

Azalin Reviews Darklord Arantor

Darklord: Arantor Domain: Monadhan Domain Formation: Unknown Power Level:  💀💀💀⚫⚫ Source: Dragon Magazine 378 – Domain of Dread: Monadhan, The Traitor’s Hold (4e)

There are precious few dragons in these misty realms. Ebb, my shadow dragon friend, being one of the few. Arantor, a silver dragon, is another - another much less noteworthy dragon and nowhere near as majestic as Ebb. Arantor became the Darklord of Monadhan after he committed a murderous campaign against the Bael Turath Empire.

Arkhosia, a realm ruled by Dragonborn, was at war with the devilish Bael Turath Empire. In an attempt to solidify their war efforts, the Arkosians petitioned dragons for aid. Being the vain dolt that he is, Arantor pompously agreed to assist the dragonborn believing his heroic deeds would ensure his name was known, loved, and feared throughout the land.

The dragons were often used to take out fortifications that were difficult to reach by ground assault alone. Ridiculous. If you have dragons on your side, they’re best used to strike fear and awe in your enemies and constantly raid from the skies. That’s what Ebb and I occasionally enjoy doing whenever Vlad Drakov’s troops ‘invade’ Darkon. Anyway, one of Arantor’s assignments was to take out a military outpost located in an overgrown rain forest that the Arkosian army could not reach. Wanting to show off in front of his daughter and protégé, Imrissa, Arantor brought her along for the raid.

The two silver dragons easily struck down the outpost, raining their icy breath down upon the people and buildings without bias. Most would think something was off when such an assault was meant with no resistance, but Arantor is, quite frankly, an idiot. It wasn’t until their second pass overhead that Imrissa realized something was wrong and called her father’s attention to it. What they thought to be a military fortification maintained by soldiers was a small camp of children and elderly refugees.

Horrified by what they had wrought, Imrissa wished to return to Arkhosia at once and inform their people of the mistake. Arantor, on the other hand, feared how such an admission would tarnish his reputation, which, as far as he was concerned, was polished as finely as a new set of silver. Imrissa refused to keep the secret and for her transgression, Arantor killed her. To further ensure that none learned of his incompetence and betrayal, Arantor slaughtered what little remained of the refugees.

In his paranoia, Arantor did not return to Arkhosia and instead hid within the wilds of the land. He emerged every so often to take out a Bael Turath settlement or military encampment, no longer caring whether he slaughtered everyday citizens or soldiers and leaving no survivors in his wake. Eventually, someone must have survived to tell the tale of Arantor’s wraith, for a group of dragon slayers hunted him down and ended his miserable existence.

Of course, our tormentors would not let him go so easily. Upon his death, Arantor was made whole once more and found himself in the Domain of Monadhan – a small, jungle with an outpost that looks very much like the refugee camp he destroyed not so long ago. Forced to face his failure, Arantor attempted to find a way to escape his prison. He gave up barely before he made any progress and simply waited for death to take him once more. Some people are just quitters…Death did come to him, eventually in the form of old age. Still, our tormentors did not let him go.

Upon his death in Monadhan, Arantor became undead and where his heart once beat within his chest was a small silver dragon – his own daughter and greatest shame, Imrissa. Imrissa, like the constant beat of a heart, whispers all the names of the people Arantor has killed over the years. Over and over again driving the vain silver dragon into the pits of insanity. An insanity he acts out every so often as he attacks visions of his own daughter and illusions of the refugee settlement from so long ago.

It is said that the most ruthless traitors eventually find themselves in Monadhan and every single individual that lives within has betrayed someone. Not a place I would recommend making a friend in…I hear that Kas the Betrayer now resides there. If you’re unfamiliar with that name, well I will be reviewing Kas in the future, but for now you may simply know him as the vampire warlord who betrayed the lich Vecna as he was performing a complex ritual to ascend to godhood.

An undead dragon that’s not even considered a dracolich who ignores his rule over a land of betrayers? I would encourage Ebb to travel to Monadhan and show this dunderhead what a proper dragon is, but he doesn’t deserve to even look at her.

#arantor #monadhan #vain glorious dragon #silver dragon #darklord #azalin rex #darklordreviews #ravenloft #dnd

[starryfacedjerk]

BREAK DESIRE AND FAILURE FOR BOTH DATA AND KINGSLEY >:3

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

DATA- He's broken down a few times in his life already! But NOW, I think there's maybe TWO scenarios that would do him in now. ONE, would be if Pacifica decided to leave him. No matter what the reason, really. Loss is something Data still deals with horribly, despite it all. Which is why the other scenario would be in the case Kingsley died. Again. THAT BEING SAID, the reactions would go in the exact opposite ways. If he lost Pacifica, it'd be grief first, scorched earth second. He'd just slip back into power tripping, and probably proceed to ruin things for everyone else because he'd probably pull some shit with Kingsley and Toby. It's definitely probably going to end in the "Bottom Of The Ocean" scenario. Sorry. Now, if he lost KINGSLEY, then it'd be grief, as followed by, probably, an identity crisis. Data would be losing like. the last real connection he had to who he ever was. It would just completely fuck him up. He'd end up in a strange haze for a LONG time after. Kingsley was always the one to see him at his lowest, ironically enough. KINGSLEY- See, those keen in the know know the number one thing for HIM would be losing Cupid, ESPECIALLY forever. He could handle a breakup, but. If she DIED. You know how that turns out. He could hardly handle it for a temporary time, let alone having to lose her forever. Really, he's not as complicated as Data. It's just pure depression. Hardly responsive, hardly living, hardly anything. If he doesn't just waste away, then he's probably going for the drastic measure. NOW, EMOTIONALLY, Kingsley's worst is very hidden inside! But, physically. Data definitely has been the one to see him at his worst. And, he'll be the one to see it when the emotionally breaks out. It's only fair

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

DATA- He just wants to be normal again. Two hands, two eyes. None of this god shit. He wants to be normal. He doesn't talk about it, cause he figures there's no point. He's never gonna do the one thing that could give him what he wants, so it doesn't matter. He's stated that clearly enough. KINGSLEY- He wants to see his mom. He wants to know she's okay, and that she remembers him, that she misses him. He wants to take care of her again. He misses her so much. It's not something he talks about, but it's pretty obvious, when he does talk about his mom. He doesn't KNOW or THINK he can do anything to get this, but really, he would give anything. He just wants her to know he's okay.

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

DATA- Cody's death. He knows it was an accident, but still. Cody was just a kid. AND HE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THAT UNTIL IT WAS TOO LATE. UNTIL NULL INFORMED HIM THAT CODY LIED ABOUT HIS AGE, THAT HE DIDN'T KNOW EITHER. Either way, it fucking RUINED him. He hates birthdays now, as a result. ALL birthdays. Of course, Kingsley is the only one who knows about it. If TOBY knew, then Data would be dead, accident or not. Data knows this, so. Hush. KINGSLEY- Signing up for that damn study. This was his fault. All his fault. He should've just gotten a damn job. Why did he think it would be a good idea? He's so stupid. Fuck. All this bullshit, and for fucking what? He just knows he doomed himself and Data to hell. Data knows it too. Even if it was worth it... God. Was it?

#giggles :3 #here u go!!! #data #kingsley

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Picture by @animetrashmuffin

Hatake Yua

Note: A lot of this information has been brought together with the help of the wonderful @samuraiisms who is also the main reason for Yua being from the Land of Iron. Without them Yua would simply not exist in the way she currently does and for that I appreciate them forever <3 <3 <3

Character’s full name: (Minamoto) Hatake Yua

Character’s nickname: Silent Storm (Name she’s known by in the land of Shinobi)

Reason for nickname: During her fight against the seven deadly Swordsmen, Yua used their mist and her homeland advantage to silently rush through their ranks and attack each one of them one by one. 

Birth date: Aprill 11

Physical appearance

Age: 55 (Same age as Tsunade)

Weight: 160 Pounds

Height: 5’9”

Body build: Slim and muscular. In most clothing she looks like a stick, but when her arms and legs are showing you are able to see her muscles are toned. 

The shape of the face: triangle

Eye colour: Brown

Glasses or contacts: N/A

Skin tone: Pale white. 

Distinguishing marks: Mole on her chin, just under her mouth. Two deep scars come down across her face from the left side. 

Hair colour: Brown 

Type of hair: 2B (Wavey)

Hairstyle: Long hair that goes down her back, pulled up into a high pony tale. 

Physical disabilities:

Usual fashion of dress: Prefers higher-end clothing with green as her main colour. 

Personality

Good personality traits: Calm-headed, loyal, focused, quick-witted, kind. 

Bad personality traits: Sarcastic, sassy, blunt, uninterested in others

Mood character is most often in: thoughtful

Sense of humor: Dry and sarcastic

Character’s greatest joy in life: Finding a good place to read

Character’s greatest fear: Drowning and death

Why? When she was young Yua was exploring outside and walked out onto a frozen river. About half way across the ice under her broke and she plunged into the cold water. It was a passing citizen who happened to see her and saved her from a cold early death, but Yua was never able to step over frozen water again. 

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? The death of her family. Yua’s family is precious to her and losing them feels like being stabbed in the heart. 

Character is most at ease when: Alone reading a book

Most ill at ease when: Surrounded by multiple people

Enraged when: Someone is posing a threat to one of her precious people

Depressed or sad when: Unable to read for long periods of time or when her work keeps her away from family and friends.

Priorities: Family, friends and books

Life philosophy: There’s no such thing as too much training. 

Character’s soft spot: Mifune. Yua was never good at making friends with other’s until Mifune decided to befriend her, and she immediately became soft and protective of her Kohai. 

Is this soft spot obvious to others? Abolsultly. She’s constantly getting called out on it and her parents even debated arranging a marriage between them until Yua shut it down. 

Biggest regret: Leaving her homeland and not being able to save her husband from himself. 

Biggest accomplishment: Defeating the Seven deadly swordsmen in battle. 

Minor accomplishment: Beating Orochimaru in a Kenjutsu battle. 

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: Her inability to swim and her fear of death. 

Why? Yua prides herself on being calm and collected. For people to know that there is something in the world that could make her crumble into pieces feels undignified and pathetic. 

Goals

Drives and motivations: To be the strongest Samurai in her land. 

Immediate goals: Getting Yamato to open up to her.

Long term goals: Keeping her Son as safe as she can from the cold grip of death. 

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Any means necessary. Yua constantly trains because she knows her son is a capable shinobi, so if he needs her to protect him she needs to be in top condition. 

Past

Hometown: Land of Iron

Type of childhood: Rich Kid, privileged and protected. Yua had a lot of expectations placed on her because of her families status. While she was spoiled she was also under enormous pressure to be at the top of her game at all times. 

Pets: N/A

First memory: Her mom teaching her how to walk by laying out books in certain intervals in front of her, prompting Yua to walk forward so she could pick up a book and hold it up to her parents to read. 

Childhood hero: Her Parents and her Sensei. 

Dream job: Samurai

Present

Current location: Konoha

Currently living with: Living on her own (Or with Sakumo or Tsunade depending on the AU)

Occupation: Retired Samurai

Family

Mother: Minamoto Misaki

Relationship with her: Strained. No longer in contact

Father: Minamoto Haru

Relationship with him: Strained. No longer in contact. 

Spouse: Hatake Sakumo

Relationship with him/her: Close. Left her homeland to be with Sakumo as her parents did not approve of their union.

Children: Hatake Kakashi

Relationship with them: Close. Kakashi is Yua’s ‘Precious Scarecrow’. There is nothing she wouldn’t do for him, and although she struggles to show her affection as most parents would there’s no doubt in Kakashi’s mind of how much she loves him. 

Favorites

Color: Green

Food: Tamagoyaki

Literature: Romance novels

Form of entertainment: Books

Most prized possession: Her Wakazashi swords, given to her by her parents when she became recognized as a full-fledged Samurai. Also a small necklace that she wears at all times, given to her by a lover from her youth who had it delivered to her shortly before they perished due to an illness. 

Traits

pessimist

Introvert 

Daredevil 

Logical

methodical and neat

relaxing

Confident 

Animal lover

Self-perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: Confident in her abilities, Yua sees herself as accomplished, strong and intelligent. 

One word the character would use to describe self: Worthy

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? Her sense of humor

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? Her aversion to other people

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? Her eyes

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? Her smile

How does the character think others perceive him/her: She thinks they perceive her as cold and rude.

What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: If she could change anything Yua would make herself more personable and less likely to resort to sass when someone upsets her. 

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: Generally doesn’t bother with other people or form opinions about people until she knows them. 

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? No. 

Person character most hates: Orochimaru

Best friend(s): Tsunade and Jiraiya

Love interest(s): Sakumo and Tsunade

Person character goes to for advice: Her Sensei or her parents. She’ll only go to Tsunade when she leaves to move to Konoha

Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Mifune (Childhood), Kakashi (Son), Gai, Yamato, Sakura. 

Person character feels shy or awkward around: Her first lover, but after her death Yua came to the conclusion that being shy or awkward was a waste of her time and tried to avoid such feelings as often as possible

Person character openly admires: Her Sensei, Mifune and Tsunade

Person character secretly admires: Sakumo (for his kindness when he’s stuck in a world that expects him to be nothing but cruel)

Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Mifune

After story starts: Kakashi

#Hatake Yua #OC: Hatake Yua

[loneberry]

Again she goes out walking. She sees more and more clearly, precisely, what she wants to see. What she is reconstructing is the end of the world.

She sees herself—and this is what she really believes —in the same place, at the end, always, in the center of a triangular construction of which dawn, and the two of them, are the eternal sides: it is the moment when she has just become aware of that dawn, while they have not yet noticed it. She knows; they still do not. She is powerless to prevent them from knowing. And it begins all over again:

At that precise moment, some attempt—but what?— should have been made which was not. At that precise moment Lol is standing, completely undone, with no voice to cry out for help, with no convincing argument, with no proof of how unimportant the coming day was compared to that night, uprooted and borne from dawn toward that couple, her whole being filled with a chronic, hopeless feeling of panic. She is not God, she is no one.

She smiles, yes, she smiles at that remembered minute of her life. The naiveté of some eventual suffering, or even of some commonplace sadness, no longer plays a part in it. All that remains of that minute is time in all its purity, bone-white time.

And again it begins: the windows closed, sealed, the ball immured in its nocturnal light, would have contained all three of them, and they alone. Lol is positive of that: together they would have been saved from the advent of another day, of one more day at least.

What would have happened? Lol does not probe very deeply into the unknown into which this moment opens. She has no memory, not even an imaginary one, she has not the faintest notion of this unknown. But what she does believe is that she must enter it, that that was what she had to do, that it would always have meant, for her mind as well as her body, both their greatest pain and their greatest joy, so commingled as to be undefinable, a single entity but unnamable for lack of a word. I like to believe—since I love her—that if Lol is silent in her daily life it is because, for a split second, she believed that this word might exist. Since it does not, she remains silent. It would have been an absence-word, a hole-word, whose center would have been hollowed out into a hole, the kind of hole in which all other words would have been buried. It would have been impossible to utter it, but it would have been made to reverberate. Enormous, endless, an empty gong, it would have held back anyone who had wanted to leave, it would have convinced them of the impossible, it would have made them deaf to any other word save that one, in one fell swoop it would have defined the future and the moment themselves. By its absence, this word ruins all the others, it contaminates them, it is also the dead dog on the beach at high noon, this hole of flesh. How were other words found? Hand-me-downs from God knows how many love affairs like Lol Stein's, affairs nipped in the bud, trampled upon, and from massacres, oh! you've no idea how many there are, how many blood-stained failures are strewn along the horizon, piled up there, and, among them, this word, which does not exist, is none the less there: it awaits you just around the corner of language, it defies you—never having been used—to raise it, to make it arise from its kingdom, which is pierced on every side and through which flows the sea, the sand, the eternity of the ball in the cinema of Lol Stein.

—Marguerite Duras, The Ravishing of Lol Stein

#literature #marguerite duras #madness #the ravishing of lol stein #duras #language #absence #trauma #oceanic feeling #apocalypse #emptiness #repetition compulsion #memory #silence #aphasia

[cityandking]

need, spring & mic drop for bran and vesper!

thanks dear! // more oc asks

need: has your OC ever experienced desperation? how has it affected them? what do they do when something they need is out of their reach?

BRAN — she had a few rough years right after leaving home (major culture shift to go from firstborn daughter of a wealthy, favored mercantile family to absolutely no one) but I think the couple years between her mother's death and when she decided to run away were the worst. like everything that drove her to leave her home and her family behind was so much worse than anything else that came after, because no matter what, after she was free. to think she hasn't set foot in rivia in nine years. she's brutally single-minded when she needs something done, and has been ever since she was a girl. if anything, the past nine years have only made that more obvious.

VESPER — right when her magic manifested and all her expectations for her world and her future came crashing down around her ears, that was some pure awful desperation (and kit promising to keep her secret, trying to help her keep it hidden for a full year, there was something desperate there too, but kinder—at least she wasn't doing it alone). those few months on the run during the war too, and the earliest days of the inquisition, with everyone looking at her and terrified of what they'd do if she failed, that really sucked. really drove home that failure wasn't an option, and she proceeds to work herself into the ground for the next 2-4 years. go girl give us everything! no, everything. everything. (retirement is honestly a fucking blessing at the end of all that.) she's the sort of person who will wear herself down before asking anything of someone else, so if anything is out of her reach it's on her to get it, no matter the cost (she gets better at asking for help, eventually).

spring: what does your OC miss most? will they ever be reunited? how would they feel about that?

BRAN — the LUCKRUNNER BITCH WHERE IS IT. she misses her ship, her crew. she's gonna do whatever the fuck she has to in order to get it back!! I think, if she ever did get the luckrunner back (and her crew, don't forget her crew, who she can't believe for a minute would have mutinied and left her stranded), the only point of concern would be a worry about the party. after all, she did promise kestrel she'd keep them safe, and curse kestrel to the nine hells and back but branwen doesn't lightly break her promises. so she'd be conflicted about sailing off into the sunset or sticking with the small, stalwart group of revolutionaries who wormed their way into her heart.

VESPER — sometimes, in spite of herself, she misses the quiet of the circle—the long hours studying and the satisfaction of discovery, teaching, her students. her small, private room, an indulgence within the circle. watching the summer storms roll in off the waking sea. more than that, she misses the old family house, and the horses, and the hounds. she misses a time when everything was less maker-damned complicated. but you can never go back, and she can't unmake anything that happened, and there's no going back, only going onwards. (she misses kit. she was so so happy to see him again. the greatest kindness he ever gave her was refusing to let her go, but the second-greatest was that old childhood home and the horses and the hounds. all that time apart and he still understands her better than anyone else.)

mic drop: what accomplishment is your OC proudest of? do they brag about it, or are they more quiet?

BRAN — she's incandescently proud of her ship and her captaincy and her crew. she's proud of the name she's making for herself and will most certainly not shut up about it. she's going to be a story one way or another and if she has to tell it herself she damn well will.

VESPER — she's proud of others' accomplishments more than her own, but the inquisition is something she'll grudgingly accept her share of credit for. not for its military or its politics or its spycraft, but because its made change, good change and true change, and helped people, and that's all she could ask for at the outset. getting her to admit it—admit any pride—is like pulling teeth.

#ty!!!! #vesper #branwen #my girls my dear darling girls :') #memery