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geeks-universe · 2 months ago

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Daryl Dixon x Reader

[I started this a while back. I’ve actually recently rewrote something with a similar but different concept, which I’ll be continuing.]

You didn’t know much of who you were.

You knew your name- or at least you assumed it was your name- and you knew that you had a mission

You just couldn’t remember what the mission was.

You had come to realize that you’d been a fighter of some kind. At least, that was the assumption you made when you had successfully fought your way through a herd of the undead entirely on muscle memory.

It’d been two weeks since you woke up, if you were counting accurately.

Two weeks since you pulled the IVs from your arms and began walking on your own two feet.

You’d been in some underground facility then. It was a shady, government-type but you weren’t entirely sure why you’d been there.

They had a decent sized armory though, and a very familiar looking jumpsuit.

It was light, durable, and fit you near perfectly- a far better option then the sorry excuse for a medical gown you wore.

After you escaped, you ran into some people claiming they had a nice camp, a setup not too far out of Atlanta.

You’d joined them warily, and had kept to yourself nearly the entire time. The supplies you had from the armory of the facility was either on your person or in a bag you stashed in your tent. You had quite the collection of firearms, but you preferred to stick to the two short swords that hung on either side of your waist, the sleek knife tucked into your boot, the pistol sheathed in a holster on your thigh, or the Barrett M82 slung across your back. (The fact you could so easily identify the weapons in your arsenal was another sign you must’ve been a fighter. Your best guess was military.) There was also the matter of the retractable blade concealed on the vambraces you wore, but you tried to keep quiet about those. Better to have a weapon when you really need one then to tell all of your secrets.

And that was how you found yourself sitting on a rooftop, listening to the cat calls of one Merle Dixon as you were leaned over the ledge, your sights on the road below.

“Lay off it, Dixon,” Morales muttered, his gaze gently sliding to you.

None of them really knew how to treat you or interact with you. You were a wild card, something they didn’t really have any information on. When you’d volunteered for the run, most of them had been surprised.

They thought you were either dead set on keeping to yourself, or another lonely, broken soul the world created, just waiting for death.

Truth was, you really didn’t know what to expect of yourself either. You could fight, you knew that now, so you wanted to.

You wanted to help people. You weren’t sure why, but it felt like the right thing to do.

It felt like you were being true to yourself.

Whoever that was.

“I think the lady can speak for herself,” the eldest Dixon brother argued. “Ain’t that right, sweet little thang. You can work that mouth of yours.”

He was trying to get a rise out of you, as he often did with the other members. You weren’t sure if it was a game to him or just his way of coping with the world going to shit, but you paid it no mind. His words weren’t your concern.

Instead, you were focused on the two men roaming the streets like they were one of the dead.

Rick had introduced himself in the form of cuffing Dixon to the roof. Though you didn’t know him, he hadn’t given you a reason to be hostile towards him. So you’d said nothing when the cop proposed his plan.

“How’s it looking down there?” T-Dog asked.

He’d been a friend to you. Others were a bit put off by how quiet you’d been, but not T-Dog. He always checked in on you, made sure to talk to you.

“The rain is going to wash away their disguises,” you stated, voice calm and calculated despite what you were saying.

“So we’re doomed, is what you’re saying?” T-Dog inquired, peering over the edge to see what he could.

“Not exactly,” you answered, waiting for the walkers to start snapping at them.

You had enough bullets to cover them, and a silencer was on the end of your rifle so it wouldn’t attract anymore attention.

A breath in, a breath out.

Glenn was starting to panic, you could see it in the way his eyes moved. Rick seemed to be a titch more calm, but he began to notice the way the walkers around him were beginning to really take their time.

All it took was for one of the walkers to growl before the men began running. You were quick, dropping the first few that surrounded them.

The ones behind them were deadly, but the ones beside them were the biggest threat.

You were careful, precise.

Killing seemed to come far easier to you than what could be considered normal. The bodies were falling around the men, faster than they could come. They would be safe to execute the plan as long as they continued moving forward.

Rick shot a glance in your direction, offering a nod of thanks as he and Glenn ran off in the direction of the van.

Morales whistled lowly beside you.

“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

You pulled your eye from the scope, slinging the rifle over your shoulder so you would have better mobility.

“I don’t know,” you answered, and if they had questions, they kept them to themselves. “Time to go.”

You grabbed an extra pack you’d thrown on the ground earlier. It had supplies you’d scavenged, nothing more than a myriad of canned foods but it was a start.

“Hey, you can’t leave me here like this!” Merle yelled, pulling at the cuff around his wrist.

You tilted your head in T-Dog’s direction.

“He’ll get you out, we’ll be downstairs waiting,” you informed the man.

He seemed satisfied with your answer, a nod of thanks, or perhaps it was recognition. You weren’t leaving him.

“Be quick, I’ll clear the way,” you told them, leaving the door open behind you as you took to the stairs.

The walkers were just beginning to break into the store as you made it down, their sights set on you.

You uncliped the gun from your side, taking down the first line of them before you.

Still, there were too many for you to take alone. Unconsciously, your fingers clasped the pendant hanging from your neck.

You weren’t sure if it was significant or not, but it had been one of the few items in a tote with your name on it at the lab.

It made you feel like you had a purpose, a mission, you just couldn’t remember what it was…

“(Y/N)!” Morales shouted to you, catching your attention as a walker managed to slip between you and your path to freedom.

You shoved past it, pulling your gun up to put it against the undead’s temple as you moved. It was hitting the ground by the time you were jumping into the van.

That was another hint of who you were before.

Your movements were elegant- graceful, even. Your body knew what it was doing, had practiced technique before clearly.

T-Dog was behind you, but you noted that Merle wasn’t.

You didn’t even need to voice your question, the guilty look in T-Dog’s eye was answer enough. Though, you knew the man well enough to know he wouldn’t just leave somebody. Something had gone wrong.

“I’ll go back,” you decided, ready to hop back out into the building the dead were overtaking before an arm snaked around your waist, pulling you away.

The doors were shut, barring your only exit from the van.

“I dropped the key,” T-Dog explained, tightening his grip on you.

“Then let me go back,” you bargained, nudging his arm off of you.

You weren’t someone who enjoyed being touched.

“Nobody is going back,” Rick spoke authoritatively from the driver’s seat, his cerulean eyes bearing into yours through the rear view mirror. “Not yet.”

You held his gaze for just a moment before nodding resolutely.

He wasn’t a bad man. He’d let you go back.

“I chained the doors,” T-Dog commented after a minute of silence. “The geeks can’t get to him.”

You looked to your friend. He looked guilty, worried. Not the expressions of a killer.

“I’ll get him back, don’t worry,” you soothed, your voice light.

He sighed out a breath, and for a while all that could be heard was the gentle lull of the motor. You leaned your head back against the side of the van, not particularly disturbed by the slight jostles at every bump.

Exhaustion was finally starting to catch up to you, and against better judgement, you closed your eyes just for a moment.

That was when the images surfaced.

There were too many popping up at once, cluttering your conscience with snippets of seemingly random scenes. One was cobblestone, another a golden sphere.

The one that stood out the most was a woman. She looked similar to you, though perhaps a bit older. Her nose just a titch thinner, her eyes a tad sharper. There was a distinctive scar running from her temple down the length of her cheekbone. You couldn’t help but wonder how you knew her.

Perhaps she was your sister, or maybe even your mother.

Once you opened your eyes, the image was lost to errant thoughts and worries. T-Dog had one eye closed, while the other was trained on you. Concern was evident in his gaze, but he didn’t communicate it verbally.

A small upturn of one corner of your mouth was all you were able to offer.

“This is it,” Morales said, gesturing towards the entrance to the quarry.

You gave the sheriff a quick once over. There was an innocence to him, in a way. Almost like he was unaccustomed to the hardships of the current world. Though, to be fair, so were many of the others in your group. He had a hard set to his brow though, determination fierce in his stance. What it was for, you couldn’t be certain, but you could wager a guess it had something to do with the faraway look he’d gotten on the drive.

“Come on,” T-Dog ushered you out of the back of the van. “We should talk to Daryl.”

You inclined your head the slightest bit as you jumped out.

“I can tell him,” you offered, your voice monotonous as you made eye contact with T-Dog.

He hesitated, and you could tell by his body language he wanted to accept. But, T-Dog had a sort of honor most people didn’t. He shook his head, and you knew his own morals just wouldn’t let him pass the burden of his own mistakes.

“At least let me come with you,” you stated, not giving him a chance to deny your request as you made your way towards the camp.

Shane narrowed his eyes towards you, almost as if to ask a question. At your shrug, he didn’t bother, letting you walk past. Since your arrival at the camp, you’d found a quick ally in Shane. He appreciated your assistance, and depended on your skills.

The whole of the camp had gathered for your arrival, and you received a few gentle smiles as you walked through them. Though they’d never expressed it, you knew that your presence could be a little unsettling for a few of them.

“Where’s Daryl?” You inquired, asking Dale as he typically knew where everyone in the camp was.

That, and he was another of the few who made an effort to befriend you.

“He’s hunting still,” the older man answered you, slinging his rifle around while he conversed.

You grimaced, looking towards the woods the resident hunter typically preferred.

“I’ll find him,” you informed the man, knowing it helped ease his stress when he knew where everyone was.

He cared for the group members, including you. Knowing that, you always tried to reassure him where you could.

“What’s happening with the new guy?” Dale muttered, and you had a feeling it wasn’t necessarily directed towards you.

You turned to watch the scene unfold before you. Lori and Carl were observing the new man- Rick- like they’d seen a ghost. Shane looked just as haunted, though there was something else in his eyes.

They embraced, and you found a smile tugging at your lips.

So little good came out of the world now, it was nice to see a family come together.

You left the scene shortly after, giving Dale a little wave as you dismissed yourself.

Daryl probably wouldn’t mind your company, as you were one of the only people he’d ever let go hunting with him (save his brother). Though, that probably mostly stemmed from your talent with a rifle and not from him enjoying your company.

To be fair, he did talk to you far more than he did the others. That wasn’t really saying much, considering he still only said a few sentences.

The woods wasn’t a particularly safe place if you couldn’t take care of yourself, so the others usually steered clear of it.

A part of you worried for your group. Many of the members didn’t know how to shoot or to fight or even to handle a weapon. That was essential in the world you found yourselves in, and you hoped they’d learn.

You’d even be willing to teach them, if they wanted. You’re sure Shane would be too.

Your steps were light, practiced even. It seemed stealth came rather natural to you, and not for the first time you wondered how that came to be. Maybe you were a spy?

That brought a gentle smile to your lips as you spotted a walker stumbling towards a slow deer. Upon closer inspection, you could see the blood along the deer’s coat. It’d been shot, an arrow reflecting embedded deep in its middle. Not a deadly shot, not yet anyway.

You whistled, getting the attention of the shambling walker. It turned towards you, stumbling forward with an open jaw. It was intuitional, the way your body moved. One second you were static, the next you’d unsheathed your knife and sent the blade through the walker’s head. The weapon was back in its holster by the next beat of your heart, and the walker hit the ground by the time you were five steps away.

“Thought that damn deer got away,” Daryl mumbled, an arrow flying past to finish the weakened, unstable creature.

“Good thing it didn’t.”

He eyed the walker you put down, then you. You offered a half-smile, nodding at the deer.

“Nice job.”

He breathed out a scoff, retrieving his arrows from the carcass. Despite the few times you’d complimented him on his achievements, he didn’t ever really acknowledge it. He couldn’t quite hide everything though. You noticed the reddish hue on his cheeks, which he did his best to conceal by leaning over the deer.

“Wasn’t nothin’,” he muttered, more than aware of the heat crawling up his neck.

You were pretty. Far too pretty for the apocalypse. And certainly too pretty for him.

That didn’t seem to stop you though.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon imagine #twd imagine

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geeks-universe · 2 months ago

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Gale Dekarios x Reader [can be read as Tav, but left unnamed]

Mostly left with little/vague description with the exception of tattoos.

The once great Gale of Waterdeep, chosen of Mystra, reduced to wildly grasping for help from some unseen savior, praying they had good intentions.

The sputtering of the Weave that enveloped him calmed, a strange- dare he say foreign- magic swelling in the air, caressing his skin with the same curiosity he regarded it with. His hero gave him little time to contemplate though, forcing him from the admittedly cramped in-between and into the overly-bright, but blessedly open world below.

The enthusiasm of his savior was a bit too zealous, however, only granting him a fraction of a second of relief, before his body barreled forward, straddling the hero beneath him.

And oh, what a sight.

He wasn’t sure what to expect of the one who’d stopped to save him, hadn’t really the time for it, either. The woman sat beneath him was certainly a surprise.

Gale had seen a goddess in the throes of pleasure, had coaxed glorious images most mortals wouldn’t dare to dream of from his patron deity, yet he’d never seen an image more divine than the human beneath him.

Perhaps she wasn’t human at all?

Her lips- plush, full, and a delightful pink that resembled a flower- were parted in surprise. She had high cheekbones and a sharp jaw, skin aureate with the sun. White lines formed around her eyes, some sort of concentric rune etched into the planes of her face.

It was her eyes that drew him in though.

The color of her eyes seemed to glow from within, a phenomena he’d never seen permanent. What was causing the glow?

“Um, hello,” she mumbled awkwardly, dainty hands hovering delicately above his hips.

Oh gods, her voice.

It was soft, but commanding- smooth, even- like the first wash of sunrise on a new day, filling the cold, dark earth with a warmth it had long been without.

“Hello,” he breathed, before realizing exactly how he was perched. He jumped to his feet quickly, despite the protest of his knees, and pulled her up just as fast.

Instead of dropping her hand, he shook it with vigor, introducing himself.

“I’m Gale,” he paused, perhaps for dramatic effect, “of Waterdeep.”

There was a brief furrow of her brows, the smallest flicker of confusion, before she smoothed it away.

“Apologies, I’m usually better at that.”

“At introductions?” She teased, a lilting laugh forming in her throat.

Stars above, she had to be a succubus. Or an Aasimar. Something divine, or something wicked.

“At magic,” he corrected, flexing his fingers against hers. There was potent energy humming beneath the warmth of her skin, an endless ocean of it, that the orb in his chest hungrily throbbed for.

Surely, it was the days without sustenance that pulsed against his mind, overwhelming him with arcane potentiality. No mortal could hold the torrent of magic brimming from within.

“I’ve never been one to judge another for their introductory abilities nor their magical ones, and I won’t start now.”

And just like that, Gale was enveloped into the fold of the small, albeit growing, group of tadpole infected individuals.

The strangely divine woman, he’d learned, was the de facto leader, seemingly the most charismatically adept and neutral party. There was some skepticism on his part, born of his natural curiosity, but watching her interact with the scavengers posted outside of the abandoned temple- and subsequently dissuading them from what was sure to be a surprisingly rough battle for the recently roused group- instilled him with enough confidence to follow her lead.

After all, he had his own problems to worry about, and allowing someone else the responsibilities of leadership cleared up time for him to search for items capable of sating his eternal hunger. Was he wrong for hiding the true nature of his being? Perhaps.

But, as his eyes shifted around the fire of their recently erected camp, he decided that secrets were not few and far between for this group.

“Go to hell.” He muttered as the bright eyed leader finished speaking to the shifty pale elf and the sneering half-elf, making her way over to him by the only source of light in their little corner of the world.

“Is that your usual greeting or did all the talk of tadpoles earlier bother you that much?”

It was clearly supposed to be cheeky, but exhaustion was heavy on her person. They’d had to fight their way through a small group of looters, and while normally it wouldn’t have been an issue, it seemed that the newest addition in his brain was sapping a great deal of his own strength, a sentiment echoed by his companions.

“Just musing,” he corrected, turning to face her fully, engaging in a conversation he’d been wanting to have since she pulled him from that portal. “Just this morning- devils, the hells, mindflayers- they were all pages on a book, a story to stimulate the mind on a dreary afternoon.”

She hummed, though whether it was in acknowledgment or agreement, he wasn’t quite sure. When Shadowheart had mentioned the hells earlier, she’d been particularly interested, asking a number of questions on the nature of the wretched place they’d been transported to. The curiosity had fallen away, however, when Astarion had met her with suspicion, disbelief at her naïveté on a subject that had been used to frighten children for ages. Surely, she’d heard the stories too.

“Perhaps we’ll have better luck tomorrow, in finding a cure for these unwelcome guests.”

He tapped his temple, drawing her attention to his face, and subsequently his eyes. The orb in his chest pounded in response to her gaze, to the magic that radiated from the depth of her being.

What was she?

“I’d settle for a map,” she mused, arms crossing over her chest.

They were all in various states of undress, the armor adorning their bodies gone, instead leaving the inner layers of it. It was a shoddy replacement for actual sleepwear, but until they could find something more suitable, it would have to do.

They’d scrounged together supplies for tents, a small slice of privacy. Their leader had not bothered with one of her own, curious enough. Instead, she’d placed the old bedroll she found by the fire, intent on lounging beneath the stars.

“May our fortunes improve with the rising of the sun, then.”

A slow smile stretched on her lips, one he was all too eager to return.

“It’s no wonder Shadowheart thought to warn me of wizards,” she teased. “Your charm and optimism are certainly a terrifying combo.”

“Charm?” He preened a little, satisfied that she found him endearing.

Many people outside of the academic circles of wizards found them a bit stuffy at best, and downright nefarious at worst. Shadowheart was right to be wary, if a little hypocritical.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon.”

There was such a lightness in her voice, a laugh waiting to bubble out. If he were any less perceptive, he’d believe her to be joyful, but Gale was a man who knew agony, knew desolation, as if it were an old friend- and this woman before him, the one who was quick to smile, and even faster to offer aid- looked intimately familiar with that pain.

“Compliments are never unwelcome, I assure you.”

The conversation was light, idle chatter between strangers who were carefully prodding into each other’s personalities, trying to deepen the connection.

His companion sat atop her scavenged bedroll, holding her hands out towards the fire for warmth. It was a curious thing, the way she watched the flames lick the wood, as if studying the movements.

“Are you studied in magic?”

The sudden question seemed to startle her, causing her head to snap up in shock. He’d deduced that she had to be a paladin of some sort, though to which god he couldn’t be too sure. He hadn’t seen any smites- divine or otherwise- but the glow of her eyes could only be from some sort of oath, if not from her own nature. (Which, as far as he could tell, was decidedly human.)

“Not any magic you practice,” she assured him, a bit forlornly.

“Which god do you channel from, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Again, what should’ve been a rather basic question caused the smallest furrow of her brow and her nose to crinkle up. It was as adorable as it was perplexing.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

There was an elongated pause, a brief moment where the crackling of the fire and the distant footsteps of their roguish friend could be heard, before he clarified.

“You’re a paladin, are you not?”

His eyes were drawn to the sword at her hip. It was a finely crafted weapon, one she’d had with her when she was abducted by the mindflayers. The magic exuding from the blade seemed odd- different, even. Still, the craftsmanship of such a decorated sword couldn’t be ignored. It was clear that it was an important artifact.

Her hand wrapped around the brown leather bindings of the grip protectively, the sharp edges of the skull engraved in the hilt pressing uncomfortably into her forearm. She didn’t notice, trained by extensive practice with the blade to ignore it.

“No,” she answered simply, carefully.

The end of a conversation.

No other words were exchanged that night, and few throughout the next days. He talked to her when he could, engaged in some banter with his companions, but the curiosity of time grew between them, as they wondered why they hadn’t yet sprouted tentacles.

He’d watched her fight too, trying to determine exactly what she was and the importance of the sword she was attached to. He’d also seen no indication of the magic she was supposedly adept with, but he knew she must possess some, if only through the gnawing hunger of the orb anytime she drew close.

Ah yes, the orb.

That was another matter he’d been avoiding, but the uncomfortable twitch of muscles around his shoulders and chest told him he could no longer. They’d only just made it through the eerie swamp after a particular horrid run in, and then brutal fight, with a hag.

Besides, his wary gaze was steadfast on Astarion’s back, watching it shake with a haughty laugh at something she had said, he wasn’t the only one that had a dangerous secret. Their pale friend was actually a vampire spawn. The thought didn’t really fill Gale with joy, but she had accepted the information in stride.

The first opportunity for privacy, he’d take his companion aside and explain his need for magical trinkets. Not the whole truth, but certainly a start.

More of a warning than Astarion had given her, at any rate. She’d been awoken to his fangs at her neck, apparently. Then, not even a day after, they’d discovered a monster hunter who was chasing said vampire. The battle that ensued wasn’t particularly challenging, but the implication of it didn’t sit well.

Mindflayers were not the only threat.

Not that they’d ever assumed the goblins lurking in the woods were friendly, but to realize they were actively being hunted was a distressing thought.

#gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x tav #gale dekarios imagine #bg3 imagine

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geeks-universe · 2 months ago

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An All Might x Reader WIP [it’s part of the Supergirl!Reader universe so it starts with young!All Might]

Just FYI this is still a x reader story, even though Toshi refers to reader as Kent in this. There will be no given first name, but the last name is Kent due to the reader having a background that is a mashup of Superman and Supergirl.

All Might cursed himself for weeks for not getting your number at the park.

He’d meant to, had tried to ask you, before he lost his nerve and you were walking away, your hips swaying with each step.

Damn it all, he had to stop thinking of you this way.

It was damn near impossible, though.

Every encounter he had with you after, even in the throes of battle, he couldn’t help but notice something.

One day it was how your skirt rode up just a little higher when you first pushed off into the sky. Another day it was how you were possibly the only person in the world who’d be able to squash his head like a damn melon with your thighs and- Jesus Fuck- that image stunned him long enough to allow a villain to get a momentary jump on him.

It didn’t help that you weren’t only physically attractive.

If it’d been how you looked, he could’ve brushed it off. Or, maybe he’d tried to initiate a one night stand, even if he did feel a little pervy considering it with someone over a decade his junior.

No, you were also the kindest, bravest, most intelligent person he’d ever met. There wasn’t a single negative thing he could associate with you, and his mind was slowly killing him with the idea that he might be feeling something real for you.

It was preposterous, right? For him to fall in… in- what? love?- with your flustered smiles and sweet words?

No.

He was the Symbol of Peace.

It was a crush, nothing more. Time would definitely make him forget it.

At least, that’s what he told himself as he watched an interview of you the next day, listening intently to your answers on your love life, and over analyzing every micro expression for some kind of sign you were in a relationship.

That was wtorturoushen he realized he most definitely needed a small break, some reprieve from his thoughts. He was just working too much. That had to be it.

So, when his agency received an invitation from another hero agency in regards to a beach party, he was more than happy to accept the invite.

He was one of the first people to arrive, and after the initial influx of greetings from the heroes, he was happy to discover the beach was devoid of civilian life. Clearly, the hero agency had reserved the entire beach, cautious to keep what should be a relaxing evening from becoming a publicity stunt.

He’d been in the process of meeting a new hero- Titus, he thought- when the young, muscular brunette whistled lowly.

“Looks like Supergirl got the invite,” he murmured appreciatively.

Toshinori’s head snapped in the direction of the hero’s eyes, his heart pounding as he opened and closed his mouth a few times.

There you were, standing proud with a confidence he’d only seen present in your person when you were kicking ass. Your bikini was small and did you really have to show off all of that tantalizing skin?

The sun, slowly on its descent beneath the horizon, cast your body in a brilliant, golden glow. A pair of sunglasses rested atop your head, your hair a bit messy from the salt water. Drips of water trailed down your legs and chest, sliding between your cleavage in a path Toshinori wished to follow with his tongue. A golden necklace was nestled between your breasts, twinkling with the light of the sun.

His mouth was watering, and he knew damn well he was staring, but so were two-thirds of the heroes on the beach.

“Man, what I wouldn’t give to be that necklace right now.”

If Toshinori happened to clap his hand a little forcefully on the young hero’s back, who could blame him?

The kid got the message though, and quickly averted his eyes. Toshi, ever the hypocrite, couldn’t tear his gaze away for another few minutes, not until the swing of your hips disappeared beneath the roaring waves.

“Some break,” Toshi whispered to himself, running his hand down the length of his face.

Why did the universe insist on torturing him?

First that yellow sundress, now a little yellow bikini? What was it with you and that color? Besides the fact that you looked like the personification of friggin sunshine with it on.

Okay, calm down. Look away. Focus on something else.

And he did just that. For the next forty-five minutes he was able to occupy himself with something other than you.

First it was the food- an illustrious, smoky spread that tasted divine.

Then, he’d participated in a friendly game of beach volleyball. (He used absolutely the right amount of force on that ball, even if he did accidentally pop it and end the game early.)

Just as he’d been sure that he’d successfully taken the break he so desperately needed, his eyes had slid to the shoreline, landing perfectly on a yellow-clad body with a pink mixed drink pressed to your lips. It really wasn’t fair that you were able to look that perfect.

Before he could stop himself, or even think twice about his decision, he was ambling his way through the sand to your resting place.

You noticed when he was only a few short feet from your position, the smile on your lips positively beautiful. The sun had clearly brightened your mood and skin, illuminating your natural beauty even more so.

“Yagi!”

He sputtered at the sound of his name. Never had he thought it could sound so sinful, even if it was just a sweet greeting from a friend.

“I’m glad you could join!”

Your sincerity struck a chord deep in his heart. Yes, people were always excited to see All Might, but with you it felt like you couldn’t wait to speak to him.

“I am too,” he admitted honestly, berating himself for even thinking he needed a break from you.

Even if it all amounted to nothing, even if he did care for you, it wouldn’t matter. First and foremost, you were a friend. He wouldn’t sacrifice that friendship for his own inappropriate thoughts.

“Here, take a seat,” you tapped the sand by your thigh, prompting him to sit beside you.

He was sure more than a few stares were cast toward the unexpected couple, but he couldn’t be bothered to wave them off. It was far more interesting to see where this conversation would lead.

“I haven’t been on a beach since college,” you admitted, swirling the straw of your drink thoughtfully.

“College?”

Toshinori propped his knees up, resting his arms loosely around his legs. His attention was entirely yours to command, and by the way you were looking at him, it felt if yours was the same way.

“UCLA for journalism.”

“Los Angeles!”

The thought that you’d spent time in the same city he did had him grinning from ear to ear. Despite the tragedy that led to his time in America, he’d cherished all that he learned. It wasn’t everyday people got to expand their worldview by visiting another country, especially one on the other side of the world.

“I always forget that you spent time in California,” you teased, resting your head against your palm. “I was only there for a couple of years with…”

It wasn’t difficult to miss the quiet pain that flashed in your eyes, but he’d noticed it, as well as the uncomfortable shift of your shoulders.

“With?” He echoed, curiosity beating back his manners.

“Uh, my fiancé.” You explained.

Fiancé.

How could one word send such a torrent of emotions through his system? You weren’t interested in him. You’d never been interested in him. This whole time you must’ve thought him a creep, someone who spent far too much time trying to engage in conversation with you when you just wanted to go home to your lover.

“Oh, you have-“

“Had,” you corrected quickly, squeezing your eyes shut. “We broke up a while ago, before…”

The vague gesture could’ve only been referring to Japan as a whole. Relief left him in the form of a sigh. You didn’t have anyone.

“Why?”

Again, he cursed his own rudeness. There was an obvious tension in your body, and despite it, he still wanted more information. Not that he really needed it, obviously the man was an idiot if he’d let you walk away.

“I never told him I was an-“

You paused, fear on your expression briefly.

“Hero… that I was a hero!” You exclaimed quickly, straightening your back as if a reminder to yourself to not be so relaxed.

“That explains the glasses,” he answered his own question with a smile.

You shook your head, however.

“Those were a gift from my sister,” you explained, tapping your brow. “I have x-ray vision, but I can’t see through lead. They help me control it better.”

“Woah.”

Seriously, it seemed like you got more powerful by the day. What else could you do? He’d always been dodgy when asked about his quirk, but you weren’t any better.

“Yeah,” you drawled, fingers sliding through the sand nervously. “What about you, big guy? Where are you from?”

“Tokyo, actually,” he replied. “You’re from Los Angeles, then?”

“Nah,” you denied, shaking your head. “I’m from Kr- Kansas.”

He didn’t miss the slip up in your words, but he wasn’t willing to push just yet. The push and pull of the tides swelled between you, the soft breeze swirling that sweet vanilla scent that clung to you. It was pleasant, how comfortable he was just talking to you. There wasn’t often time in his life to make real friends, and he was slowly coming to appreciate your presence.

“I think I’m going to head home,” you murmured after a long silence.

Your gaze was on the horizon, where the first of the stars were just beginning to twinkle in the darkened sky. He remembered your words then, how you often watched the world above.

“Before you go,” he found himself speaking before he could stop himself. “I, well, I- uh, if you want… I think… I wanted to give you my n-number.”

Your cheeks flooded with a bright red, a nervous smile worrying your lips. As quickly as the burst of confidence at your earlier conversation came, already it had disappeared, false bravado crumbling into a very cute flustered nod.

“O-oh, yeah,” you finished lamely, holding out your phone to him with trembling hands.

He took it, grasping it with a reverence he wasn’t quite sure a cell phone had experienced before. It didn’t matter though, as he entered his contact name as: Yagi ^.^ .

His fingers danced around the keyboard nervously, accidentally clicking the wrong numbers more than once before he was able to successfully type his contact information in. A deep breath forced himself from his lungs as he handed it back to you, noting the small curve of your lips as you stared at the name.

“It was nice to talk to you, Yagi.”

He returned your smile, bowing his head as he got to his feet.

“Likewise, Kent.”

He held a hand out, his arm flexing when you grasped it. Even if you were more than capable of standing on your own, he still tugged you upward. Your hands remained intertwined for a moment beyond what was acceptable, the crash of waves going mute as he stared into your eyes.

“Until next time.”

He could hear the hesitation in your voice, feel it in the way your fingers flexed against him, before releasing. Yet, you still pulled away, gathering up your few belongings and walking back to the parking lot.

Until next time.

#all might x you #all might x reader #yagi toshinori x reader #yagi toshinori x you #mha imagine #mha x reader

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geeks-universe · 2 months ago

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Daryl Dixon x Reader [SPN crossover, reader was raised by Bobby but not blood related]

That was before. Now…

“Please work,” you muttered, holding the necklace Bobby had gifted you on your ninth birthday with an iron grip.

It was a simple thing: a gold chain with a black tourmaline crystal. The jagged cut of the crystal was etched with a deep, single line carving of suíl- the eye. It was meant to be a conduit for your power, a way to focus it so that you could cast more intentionally.

Your power was expansive, your natural talent unmatched, but when it came to intentional casting, as opposed to reactive, you struggled. Especially now.

“Find her.” You whispered. Pleaded.

You could feel that thread of power in your chest, the one that would pull, pull, pull, until it snapped and a torrent of energy would rush through. It’d been second nature once upon a time, your hand lifting to defend the people you loved without a second thought.

This little girl would be no different.

“Come on,” you huffed, the muscles in your arm straining with the force you held the conduit with.

It was no use though.

No trickle of power.

No twinge of a cord.

“Fuck,” you shouted, taking your frustration out on a nearby unsuspecting mushroom.

Maybe if you’d paid more attention to Sam’s lessons in witchcraft and the importance of herbalism you would know if the aforementioned shroom could be used in some sort of spell to find Sophia. It wasn’t like you knew the world was going to end. You would’ve at least grabbed a Grimoire. Maybe a Witchcraft for Dummies.

“No luck?”

The sudden voice caught you by surprise, your hands rising instinctually. Even then, you could feel the faintest twang of power.

“Witchcraft is about intention, Bean.” Bobby said sagely over his tower of mismatched books, some old enough to belong in museums. “Your emotions can help, but they can also bite you in the ass faster than a snake in the grass.”

“Daryl,” you let out a sigh, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “I didn’t find anything.”

He watched you curiously for a second. The others appreciated your ability to handle weaponry, and the way you seemed so unafraid of the dead, even at the start of everything. Daryl, however, seemed to clock the way you didn’t always immediately reach for a weapon, like you were expecting the walkers to just suddenly combust.

Which, to be fair, you kind of were. Elemental magic had always been the most natural form of power for you. Sure, you’d been able to cast spells and perform rituals when required, but at the base of your magic was a roaring storm, the howl of the elements.

“Me neither,” he admitted, disappointment in the rough grumble of his chest. “Figured we could circle back tomorrow, take the Eastern side of the ridge.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, slipping your necklace back over your head. “Let’s walk the creek back, see if maybe she took shelter there.”

Daryl grunted his confirmation, taking the lead with his crossbow in hand. The silence between you was comfortable. Daryl was the quiet sort, never really wanting to speak up during what he considered “useless chatter”. Before Sophia had gone missing, you would engage in long, mostly one-sided talks with Daryl.

He never really seemed to mind, and you desperately sought out human connection. It was all that kept you from letting the anger consume you.

That, and Bobby had reminded you time and time again when you were growing up that you could talk a brick wall to death. Lovingly, of course.

Now that you were focused on finding her, and Daryl was the only other person that was going out every single day with you, you’d let the silence permeate your search.

Sometimes you’d split up, just short distances and nothing far enough to risk you getting lost. You’d find her. You didn’t allow yourself to believe anything else.

(If only you could focus, just for long enough to trace her location. You’d done it many times in the past to find Sam and Dean. There was no reason you couldn’t do it again.)

“Did ya used to hunt?”

Daryl asked the question so suddenly you nearly didn’t answer, too lost in your own inner turmoil. Then, you were taken aback by the wording.

“Yeah, something like that,” you laughed, amused by something he didn’t understand.

Still, the smile on your lips was enough of a consolation for potentially saying something foolish. He wasn’t entirely sure how to interact with you most days. Even at his peak asshole behavior, you’d been stubbornly sunny, like the world hadn’t ended gruesomely.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon imagine #twd imagine #yes it’s a spn crossover #yes Bobby calls the reader bean #I’m not even a little sorry #I love him

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geeks-universe · 2 months ago

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I’m going to post some WIPs in hopes that it’ll give me some motivation to finish them. Some are closer to being done than others. 🫡

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geeks-universe · 2 months ago

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I started writing a Daryl Dixon x Reader fic with these really cool concept I thought of and now I’ve been obsessively writing for it

#daryl dixon x reader

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geeks-universe · 2 months ago

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Gonna lock myself in my office and force myself to write today

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geeks-universe · 3 months ago

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I’m down to writing like a few sentences a day rn, this school/work wombo combo is crushing my spirit 💀

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geeks-universe · 3 months ago

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Sorry for the delay on the drabbles, I’ve been chipping away at them but work made me get behind on school, without giving me time off to catch back up 💀

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geeks-universe · 3 months ago

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I’m still working on drabbles, just had a little hiccup at work 💀

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geeks-universe · 3 months ago

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Hii, may I request an wade wilson x reader fanfic with prompt #15

Absolutely!!!

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geeks-universe · 3 months ago

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All Might would be lying if he said he wasn’t often in the nurse’s room.

It seemed like he couldn’t even breathe without having to visit Recovery Girl for something. And, if it wasn’t him, it was his successor. Together, the two of them made up about eighty percent of her traffic.

Not that she’d ever complain.

Well…

She did complain. Lots of times.

But, she meant it in the most loving way possible, and not in a way that would push him into neglecting seeing her out of shame for the scolding he’d get.

He was a bit dejected when he found himself walking to her little corner of UA once again. The pain in his scar was starting to flare up, and his class would be starting soon. He needed the extra boost to make it through his classes as the Symbol of Peace, and not the shell of the man.

Toshinori sighed, taking a seat on one of the empty beds. He was the only one in the room as he waited rather impatiently for Recovery Girl to return.

She didn’t keep him waiting long.

A flurry of movement caught his eye as the nurse ran into the room, only for him to realize it wasn’t his friend. His brow furrowed as he examined you.

You were young. Not so young that you’d be a student, but still decades younger than him. He didn’t recognize you, despite the fact that he’d familiarized himself with all of UA’s staff. Though, now that he thought about it, Nedzu had asked him a few days prior about revealing the secret of his weakness to a new staff member.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, running your hand through your hair. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting!”

Cute.

That was his first thought.

Then, he immediately redacted the thought, not wanting to seem like some old creep hitting on a coworker who also happened to be far younger than him.

Still, the way you smiled breathlessly was cute.

Dammit.

“It’s okay,” he assured you, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Anyways,” you turned to face him fully, taking a seat very close to him.

Even though your distance was professional, his heart raced at your proximity. Your smile was so bright it lit up the whole room.

“What’s up?”

He swallowed.

“Oh, um, I-I well…”

He struggled to find the right words- or any words, for that matter. Your gentle laughter interrupted his foolish attempts, and the sound was music to his ears. Red blossomed on his cheeks.

“You’re All Might, yeah?”

He hesitated, almost wishing he could deny it. Instead, he nodded, defeated.

“Recovery Girl told me you stopped by a lot,” you explained flippantly, fiddling with the clipboard that sat in your lap. “And the student, uh, Midoriya, I think?”

“Where is she?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Am I not good enough?” You stuck your tongue out playfully.

His heart stuttered in his chest, and he desperately prayed you didn’t have a quirk that let you see that sort of thing.

“I- no, I’m sorry, she usually helps when I have pain.”

There.

He got through a sentence.

Your hand hovered over the scar that haunted him every day. He stopped breathing, watching you with wide eyes.

“She told me,” you offered in explanation, pulling your hand away. Air released itself from his lungs.

“I’m afraid I can’t heal you with a kiss, but I can give you some medicine.”

He was forever thankful that you turned your back to him. The brief image of you pressing your lips against his scar, so gently, intent on bringing reprieve from the pain, if only for a moment, was enough to nearly drop him to his knees.

It’d been such a long time since he’d let himself indulge in any sort of pleasure, and the innocent, yet playful, looks you were giving him had him running towards a new outlet.

“This should do the trick,” you proclaimed, a small orange bottle in your hand, that rattled as you moved back into his proximity. “Once every 6 hours, as needed.”

He meant to acknowledge you, but he was barely able to even wrap his fingers around the bottle before he was running from the room. The confused, slightly amused, look photographed on your face as he left made him curse himself over and over as he made a beeline for the staff room.

The room itself was mostly empty, save the occasional teacher locked in a battle with paperwork. Nobody paid him much mind though, except Midnight, who was slinking towards him rather mischievously.

“What’s got you all riled up?”

She had been beyond bored all day, and without any other excitement, she jumped at the opportunity of the first whiff of entertainment.

“Nothing.” Toshinori cleared his throat, setting the medication on the table in front of him. After a few seconds of careful consideration, he spoke again. “Did you know we have a new nurse?”

That caused the woman to perk up. She nodded enthusiastically, tapping her fingers along the smooth wood of the table.

“I met her this morning,” Nemuri confirmed, humming her approval. “Smart girl.”

At the intrigued look on the older man’s face, and the way he unconsciously leaned in at the new information, a plan formed in her mind. She had never once seen the famous All Might seem so affected by anyone, especially not romantically.

“And a little bit sexy.”

He blanched, and though he tried to play it off, the red painting his cheeks were more telling than anything he said.

“I got her number, probably going to try to bring her to our weekly outings on Friday.”

It was an open-ended statement, one Nemuri had hoped would prompt the number one hero to consider his attendance this week. It wasn’t uncommon for him to join the rest of the staff for their rendezvous each Friday, but it also wasn’t uncommon for him to mutter a half-hearted excuse and be noticeably absent.

“Where did you plan on going this weekend?” It was a tentative question posed by the blonde, and though there was a clear hesitance in it, there was also a definitive curiosity.

She really didn’t expect it to be this easy.

“I added you to the group chat for a reason,” Nemuri sighed dramatically, not really annoyed with him. He was a busy man, and as such, she’d placed it upon her shoulders to try and force him to relax to some degree lest the world of heroes and villains chew him up and spit him out.

The man at least had the audacity to look sheepish.

“Lucky’s, on Main,” she reminded him.

“Are we talking about Friday?” Hizashi sing-songed, his voice momentarily drawing attention, before the other staff members grumbled to themselves and carried on with their work.

“We are,” Nemuri confirmed, a wide smile pulling at her lips as she looked up at her long time friend. “Toshinori is going to be joining us.”

“I didn’t-”

“Hell yeah!” Hizashi nodded his head enthusiastically, clapping his hand against Toshinori’s back. “The new nurse is going to be there too, and I don’t know if you’ve seen her, but…”

Hizashi let out a low whistle, and the appreciation in his gaze caused Toshi to frown. The thought of his interaction with you was something common, and, well, not special, pulled his mood down a fair bit.

While Hizashi was none the wiser, Nemuri picked up on the sudden swing in joviality rather quickly. She quirked a perfectly sculpted brow, leveling her friend with an unamused stare.

“Zashi, you are not going to be drooling over my potential new friend all night.”

He shrugged unapologetically, conceding only when Nemuri pouted.

“Alright, alright, she’s off limits. You got it, boss.” The look Hizashi shared with Toshi went over the older man’s head. He was trying to convey something with the waggle of his eyebrows, but he couldn’t possibly conceive what.

And just like that, the tension was broken and the conversation returned to normal.

Toshinori kept thoughts of your interaction in the back of his mind, reminiscing on them when he was alone, but not allowing them to pervade his introspection through the rest of the week.

He avoided the nurse’s office too.

Partly because he didn’t want to make a fool of himself, and partly because the medicine you prescribed to him seemed to be working better than he expected. Maybe that was your quirk? He wanted to ask the other staff members about you, but he was being steadfastly tight-lipped when it came to any discussion of your person, especially when Nemuri would shoot him a knowing look anytime your name was brought up in conversation.

Friday came all too early, and Toshi had half a mind to cancel when his phone began buzzing with notifications from the group chat.

He scrolled through them idly, tugging at the collar of his white t-shirt a bit uncomfortably. Nemuri had not-so-subtly suggested that he wear something tighter fitting, and while he didn’t want to take her advice, he couldn’t help but follow it anyway. She was far better at understanding what people liked, and even though he tried to convince himself he didn’t really care what you thought of him, it didn’t work.

Most of the other staff members were talking about when they were going to be arriving and how they were getting there, but one message in particular stood out.

Unknown: Nemuri promised dancing, so I better not be disappointed.

It was you, had to be, as he had everyone else’s number saved in his phone. His heart beat a little faster, the familiar uneasiness pumping through his veins.

He should cancel.

He should really, really cancel.

If it weren’t for the fact that he was quite certain Midnight would actually murder him, he probably would have.

Alas, some incredible feat of strength had possessed him the entire drive to Lucky’s, and even further into the main entrance.

He nearly puffed out a breath of relief when he saw the familiar faces of his coworkers. You weren’t there yet, and he found himself able to relax for just a minute to adjust to the new environment.

It was a nightclub, but not one super high energy. There were enough tables and chairs that only the people dancing were standing up. The place was busy, but not overcrowded, and the dim lights still provided enough illumination to properly see.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show after all,” Nemuri offered as a greeting, a sly smirk on her features.

All Might took a seat at the large table they'd reserved just for them, placing his hands awkwardly in the space in front of himself.

Aizawa, who looked like he was sleeping, popped his head up long enough to slide a drink in the aforementioned place.

“You’re going to need it,” he grunted, dropping his head again.

Toshi blinked, tentatively reaching for the drink. He had never been a large fan of drinking, even less so after the injury. Still, he sipped at it, curiously swirling the bitter flavor in his mouth.

“Yo, yo, yo, look who I found!” Hizashi’s voice was louder than the music, his expression cocky as he held his hands open in flair.

Beside him stood you, your cheeks a little red as you tucked hair behind your ear. At UA you had been wearing standard, baggy scrubs. Here, however, you were wearing a tiny black dress that showed off the expanse of your legs. It fell to mid thigh, and the adjective “cute” that Toshinori had associated with you earlier was entirely wrong. You were…

He swallowed thickly, an unfamiliar tug in his stomach alerting him to a desire he’d buried deep long ago.

He was drinking up every bit of skin you had on display, and when he finally managed to respectfully avert his gaze, he met the suggestive gaze of Midnight.

Deciding to take Aizawa’s advice, he swallowed a large gulp of the offered drink, staring a hole into the table in front of him.

Nemuri wasn’t one to let a look that sinful be ignored however, and she gave you her sweetest smile.

“Sit by me!” She suggested frantically, gesturing you over to the seat directly by her, which just so happened to also be by Toshinori.

The air seemed to grow warmer with your presence as you occupied the previously empty seat.

“Sorry I’m late, guess I just lost track of time.”

Nemuri waved off your apology with a smile.

“Hizashi can get us drinks, I need a new one anyways.” The sound hero looked like he was about to protest, but then decided against it and walked towards the bar. “Everyone,” she introduced, “This is (Y/N). She’s a nurse.”

There were small greetings exchanged as you wriggled in your seat a little. “Thank you, but I’m not a nurse.”

That sparked some confusion.

“But you were in the…”

Toshi turned to you, nearly regretting it the moment he did. Were your eyes always so soulful, or was he just studying them very intently?

“I work with Recovery Girl,” you affirmed, assuring him that he hadn’t got medication from some random person, and you were in fact qualified to do so. “I’m a biochemist.”

“Oh,” Toshinori replied dumbly, not quite sure how to respond.

Keeping his gaze on you was even more difficult, and he turned away nervously.

“Toshinori went to college in America too,” Nemuri spoke for him, ignoring the heat that had crept up his cheeks.

That woman had really done her research.

“Yeah?“ You prompted, giving the man in question your full attention. He fought the anxiety in his chest as he maintained eye contact. “How’d you like it?”

“I loved it,” he admitted shyly, flicking his gaze to Nemuri often almost as assurance that he was engaging in conversation properly.

The smile she returned could only be described as prideful.

“I bet you got into all sorts of crazy adventures,” you enthused, resting your head on your fist as you prepared to hear whatever story he would tell.

Toshinori didn’t disappoint.

Once he started talking, reminiscing, he got more excited, more theatrical. Story after story he regaled a lifetime of adventure, and whenever he would ask about you, you would politely defer back to him.

Before he knew it, the bartender was yelling last call.

Your cheeks were a pretty red, tinted from the consumption of alcohol that you’d been steadily sipping on through the night. He had swapped after one drink, no longer needing the courage it offered once he found his rhythm.

Now, though, with the rest of the UA faculty long since retiring, and faced with the reality it was just the two of you, blood curdling fear settled in his bones. This was not, and had never been, his element.

The terror must have shown in his eyes however, as you murmured a soft, “Walk me home?”

Your eyes glistened beneath the length of your lashes, a premeditated pout forming on your wetted lips, as if there were a chance he could deny you anything.

He nodded mutely, trying to get words out, yet not able to form a sentence. His reply was enthusiastic enough for you, as you linked your arm in his and began walking, surprisingly steady despite the liquor.

“I’m glad you showed up,” you interrupted the silence, your voice cutting through him more than the crisp air.

“Nemuri said you don’t always come to these.” You explained further at his quirked brow.

“Not always, no,” he confirmed, finally able to find his voice.

It was difficult for him to concentrate on much past the warm, gentle grip of your hand. Each accidental bump of your body set his on fire.

#toshinori yagi x you #toshinori yagi x reader #all might x reader #all might x you #all might imagine #just a little blurb #don’t mind me

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