#ive got your soul brother!

[batcavescolony]

Gotta love Tommy Shepherd, he's got like four sets of parental figures that could care about him but he either feels awkward around them or they just apparently forgot he exists. Like the only semi ok adult in his life is Master Pandemonium, who he's taking care of but he at least interacts with him.

[lathrine]

im reading through Witcher: The Last Wish, and its been very fun with my mixed knowledge of 1/3rd of Witcher 3, four episodes of the show, and Blood Of Elves bc i know just enough to be confused at all times but also just enough to point at an upcoming scene and go "THE BUTCHER OF BLAVIKEN!!!!"

[bupia]

Serendipity: Chapter 1 - Papa Emeritus IV x Fem!Reader

Summary: On a Halloween night, you, along with Terzo and his family, head to the Ministry for an annual ball to celebrate this beloved day. On this occasion, you have the chance to meet Terzo's brothers, whom you've heard about for so long: Primo, Secondo, and most notably, the current Papa Emeritus, Copia.

Words: 7.811

A/N: Happy Halloween! After 30 days of The Ministry Kinktober, I thought it'd be fun to start a new series with Copia, this time casting him in the role of Papa Emeritus IV. I hope you all find it enjoyable.

Available on AO3

Chapter 2

Day 1: The Halloween ball.

Not too long ago, you had taken on the role of a nanny for Terzo's family, a job that might have seemed traditional but had turned into something quite extraordinary. It was a simple job, as you saw it, but it held a unique charm. You didn't need what people would call a "proper job." You had found an opportunity and embraced it with open arms.

Your life with Terzo, Angèle, and little Andras had begun when you first met them. The revelation that a Papa could marry and have children had initially surprised you, but as the months passed, you grew to understand why.

Terzo, was the former Papa Emeritus III, he had retired from his role but retained his title, akin to a seasoned veteran who continued to bear the honor of his past. He belonged to a unique religious group, far from the conventional churches that prayed to God and Saints. It was a Satanic Ministry.

Terzo had been apprehensive that you would run away upon learning the truth, but why would you? You saw no harm in their beliefs, and they were a joyful, healthy, and loving family. It was just one more facet of their lives, like an extra spice that enhanced the flavor of your experience, which may not have made much sense to outsiders, but to you, it was just an intriguing facet of their lives. You wouldn't judge them for it.

Over time, you had naturally learned more about their religion, not because they imposed it on you, but because you had an open mind and a willingness to listen. They always made sure you were comfortable with the information they shared, never pushing you into anything that might make you uncomfortable. However, what had truly piqued your interest was when you heard about the existence of Ghouls, and your excitement had reached peak levels when you finally met Dewdrop, one of the oldest Ghouls of the Ministry.

As you became closer to the family, Angèle shared pictures of their life in the Ministry, including images of Terzo's brothers. Primo, the eldest, had a commanding presence during his time as a Papa, but Angèle assured you he was a kind soul. Secondo, just three months older than Terzo, always wore an intimidating frown and had an impeccable sense of style.

And then, there was Copia, the current Papa Emeritus of the ministry and the new leader of Ghost. From the pictures Angèle showed you, Copia seemed to have it all. His handsome features and warm smile made your heart race, and the sight of him holding little Andras in a nursery photo nearly brought you to tears; it was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

But, circling back to the present, tonight was Halloween night, and you, Terzo, Angèle, and Andras were en route to the Ministry, all dressed in your costumes. The creative family had chosen to embody the Addams Family, while you, wanting to fit in somehow, had opted for a nun costume. In hindsight, it might not have been the best choice for a gathering at a satanic Ministry, but it was too late to change now.

As you got closer to the ministry, a wave of apprehension washed over you. You had grown accustomed to Terzo's family and their satanic customs, but tonight was different, and you weren't entirely sure what to expect, especially in the company of his brothers. In your heart, you knew your role was that of a nanny and nothing more. Yet, a part of you yearned to connect with the people you would meet tonight, especially since Terzo would be spending a week within the Ministry starting by today. He had explained that this was an opportunity to address some important matters with the clergy and to provide guidance to his brother, Copia, in his new role, alongside Primo and Secondo.

Also, you couldn't deny that you were feeling a bit nervous about meeting Copia in person. You hoped he lived up to the handsome figure he cut in the pictures Angèle had shared with you.

"We are almost there, Papa," Dewdrop's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, refocusing your attention on the road ahead. You glanced at the rearview mirror, where you could see Andras peacefully asleep in Angèle's arms. Terzo sat beside her, his hand resting gently on her leg. It was unusual for Terzo not to be the one behind the wheel, but tonight, given the formal nature of the ministry's event, Dewdrop had been assigned to chauffeur you all in one of the ministry's official cars.

A smile tugged at your lips as you admired the loving scene before you. Then, you turned your gaze to the Ghoul seated right beside you. "You didn't want to put on a costume for today, Dewdrop?" you asked playfully.

Dewdrop chuckled and replied, "I don't think I need one."

You couldn't help but giggle at his response. "Well, that's true. You are already in the Halloween spirit every day. I thought you would have convinced him to dress up as Lurch," you said as you turned your face to Terzo.

Terzo rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "Ho tentato," he said with a grin, "but he refused. Apparently, driving a car for us today is already pushing the boundaries of his Ghoul image."

Dewdrop nodded with a smirk. "I have to maintain my Ghoul dignity, Papa."

As the car made a slight turn, you laid eyes on an old building that resembled a church. It bore a striking resemblance to the other churches you had seen before, but there was something uniquely captivating about it. The building was grand, situated on a sprawling piece of land adorned with a beautiful garden. It left you in awe, and your eyes sparkled with amazement as you took in the sight.

The car continued its way until it came to a stop in front of the large building. A group of Ghouls, more than you were accustomed to, had gathered by the entrance and swiftly approached the car. This was the first time you had seen so many of them at once; you were typically only in the company of Dewdrop.

"We are here," Dewdrop announced.

"Grazie, Dewdrop, for bringing us here today."

The Ghouls opened the car doors for Terzo and Angèle, who wasted no time in stepping out. However, you remained seated inside, gazing forward. Dewdrop reached out and gently touched your arm.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired.

You shook your head. "No, I'm just a little nervous, I guess."

Dewdrop reassured you with a warm smile. "There's no need to be nervous. Everything will be fine. Come with me, and you'll be fine."

He opened his door, then walked to your side, opening your door as well. You took Andra's bag and stepped out, and he closed the door behind you. Dewdrop offered you his arm, and you took it gratefully, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.

Glancing over at Terzo and Angèle, who were already waiting by the front door, you and Dewdrop made your way to join them. Two of the Ghouls opened the grand entrance, allowing Terzo to enter first, followed by Angèle, who held Andras in her arms. You followed closely behind them, hand in arm with Dewdrop, taking in the vastness of the ministry. It exceeded your expectations in size and grandeur. The Halloween decorations added a whimsical touch to the solemn atmosphere, and the faint strains of music drifted to your ears from a distance. A sense of excitement and anticipation bubbled within you as you stepped further into the ministry, eager to immerse yourself in the evening's festivities.

"Dear," Angèle's voice reached your ear as you walked alongside Dewdrop.

"Yes, miss?" you responded, instinctively using a formal title.

"I already told you, you can call me by my name," Angèle chided gently. "Can you hold him for me?"

"I'm sorry, mi- Angèle," you corrected yourself and reached out to take Andras into your arms, handling him with care.

Terzo flashed you a warm smile, and they continued to make their way toward the music. You returned to Dewdrop's side, walking alongside him as the music grew louder, guiding you to a room with its doors wide open. A Ghoul approached and led the way, with Terzo and Angèle following closely behind.

"Papa Emeritus III, Terzo, and his beloved wife, Angèle, have arrived," the Ghoul announced at the door.

Terzo and Angèle entered the room, and you and Dewdrop followed suit. The sight that greeted you was nothing short of incredible. The room was filled with people, dancing, conversing, and enjoying themselves to the fullest. The colorful lights on the ceiling illuminated the space in a mesmerizing display. Halloween decorations adorned the room, and the lively disco music filled the air, creating an atmosphere that was positively infectious.

Dewdrop turned to you, placing his hand on your shoulder. "So, what do you think of all this?"

You couldn't contain your excitement as you looked around, taking in the grandeur of the event. "It's stunning! The ball is so grand, and there are so many people... I don't have words to describe it."

Dewdrop reached out and gently placed a hand on your lower back, leaning in closer to your ear. "I need to leave you now. I have to be around the ministry with the other Ghouls. Promise me you'll have fun, okay?"

You nodded, smiling at Dewdrop as he departed the room to attend to his duties. Your attention turned to Terzo and Angèle, who had moved farther away from you. Adjusting Andras in your arms as he began to wake up, you smiled down at the little one.

"Hello there, little one," you cooed, gently brushing your fingers across Andras's soft cheek. He responded with a radiant smile, accompanied by a symphony of baby sounds.

You made your way over to Terzo and his wife, who were standing near one of the tables adorned with a small paper sign that read "Papas." As you approached, someone came up behind you, and Terzo turned to face the newcomer.

"Fratello!" Terzo exclaimed, opening his arms and walking toward the person. "Where is your costume?"

Turning to see who it was, you found Secondo, one of Terzo's brothers, dressed in a very elegant dark green suit that emphasized all the curves and lines of his body, impeccably tailored to perfection. He exuded an air of sophistication and confidence. As he approached Terzo, they embraced warmly, and you couldn't help but notice how well Secondo carried himself in his stylish attire.

"I can't believe you didn't wear the costume I told you to," Terzo playfully chided as they pulled away.

"Terzo, I was not going to be Uncle Fester just because you asked me to," Secondo replied with a sigh.

"Why not, fratello? It would have been fun!" Terzo countered, clearly amused.

"Sì, for you, only," Secondo replied with a resigned tone. He then looked around and laid his eyes on you. "Oh, here he is! And who is this, signora?"

"She is our nanny," Angèle chimed in, going to your side and placing her hand on your back.

"It's nice to meet you formally, Papa," you said, extending your hand toward him, and he gallantly kissed the back of it.

"Il piacere è tutto mi," he replied with a charming smile, still holding your hand.

"Terzo!" another voice called from behind you, and you turned to see who it was.

"Primo!" Terzo exclaimed with a chuckle. "Fratello, hai lo spirito di Halloween! Sapevo che non mi avresti deluso!"

Indeed, Primo was dressed as Uncle Fester, and you couldn't help but stifle a giggle. He approached your group and hugged Terzo, just as Secondo had done earlier.

"See, fratello?" Terzo said, glancing at Secondo. "Primo has the Halloween spirit!"

"So you basically asked for the two of us to dress as Uncle Fester because you knew one of us would come as it?" Secondo asked, sounding somewhat annoyed.

"One of you was bound to do it," Terzo replied teasingly.

"Cretino," Secondo muttered in a sharp tone, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

"Secondo," Primo said with a disapproving look, then turned his gaze to you. "And who is this bella signora?"

"This is Andra's nanny, fratello," Terzo clarified.

Primo approached you with a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, bella," he said gently. "And it seems our piccolo demone is awake."

You smiled and nodded. "Nice to meet you too, Papa. And yes, Andras is quite awake and lively right now."

Primo extended his arms, and you handed Andras over to him. "Ciao piccolo," he greeted with a smile. "Il tuo zio preferito ti ha fatto mancare, mio piccolo demone."

"Zio preferito? You wish, fratello," Secondo chimed in as he approached Primo. He extended his hand toward Andras, who eagerly clasped one of his fingers with his tiny hand, letting out a sweet giggle. "See? He knows who his zio prefereito is. He's even smiling at me."

"Smiling at you?" Primo countered with playful banter. "The bambino is laughing at you."

The brothers exchanged amused glances, their competitive spirit lightening the mood as Andras enjoyed their attention. You briefly averted your eyes to take in the lively atmosphere of the Halloween ball. The joyous spirit in the room was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel like you belonged there.

"Where is Copia?" Angèle inquired.

As you heard his name, your attention snapped back to the conversation. Angèle now had Andras in her arms, and Terzo was pulling out a chair for her to sit next to him. Secondo and Primo were already seated, and you quickly made your way to sit beside Angèle, hanging Andra's bag on the chair.

"He's somewhere around, we haven't seen him since we got here," Secondo replied.

You listened attentively, feeling a bit disappointed. Would you not have the chance to meet Copia tonight? Was he not going to attend the Halloween ball? You consoled yourself with the thought that you would likely encounter him during your stay at the ministry.

Suddenly, someone approached you from the side, and you let out a loud scream of horror, causing Andras to start crying. The person was covered with a white sheet, and your eyes widened in terror as you clutched your chest, breathing heavily.

The person quickly removed the sheet, revealing Copia beneath it. "Ti ho spaventato? Mi dispiace, non era mia intenzione!"

Angèle got up from her seat with Andras still crying in her arms. You got up and rushed over to Angèle, who was trying to soothe the upset little one in her arms. You rushed to Andras' bag, located on your chair, and quickly retrieved his favorite plushie. Returning to Angèle, you presented it to Andras, attempting to comfort him, but it appeared to have little effect on his persistent crying.

Copia expressed his apologies, feeling genuinely remorseful for causing the commotion. "What have I done?" he said, addressing his brothers and Angèle.

"It's totally okay, it wasn't your fault," you reassured him, taking Andras into your arms.

"Terzo, please, give me his pacifier. It's in your blazer's pocket," Angèle requested.

Terzo promptly got up and retrieved the pacifier from his pocket, handing it to Angèle. She gently placed the pacifier in Andras' mouth, successfully calming him down. She then took him back into her arms, also reaching for Andra's bag, hanging on your chair.

"I'm going to step outside with him for a bit," Angèle announced. "I'll be right back."

As Angèle left the room with Andras, you took a deep breath, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden scare. A hand on your back sent shivers down your spine, and you turned to see Copia standing beside you. You turned your face to find Copia standing there, and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. He was even more striking in person, and you couldn't help but admire his presence. His voice was as charming as his appearance, and you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness in his presence.

"Are you okay?" he inquired, his concern evident in his voice.

In silence, you nodded, unable to find your voice as you continued to gaze at his captivating features. A smile graced his lips, and his hand gently squeezed your arm in a reassuring gesture.

"Bene, molto bene," he said, withdrawing his hand from your arm.

Copia offered a gentle smile, causing your cheeks to flush. He approached the table and pulled out your chair, signaling for you to sit down. You walked over to your chair and gracefully took your seat. Copia joined you, sitting right beside you, while Secondo audibly sighed and shook his head in response to the earlier playful banter.

"Secondo, non cominciare neanche," Primo warned him.

"Non stavo per dire niente," Secondo replied with a faint smirk.

Copia offered his sincere apologies. "Mi dispiace profondamente. I didn't mean to scare the signora, and I certainly didn't intend to frighten my own nipote."

"It's okay; it was my fault. I wasn't expecting it," you reassured him in a gentle tone.

Terzo chimed in with a bit of humor, "Please don't kill our nanny. She's the only one who's stayed with us. You have no idea how hard it is to find a nanny when you tell them about being a retired satanic Papa."

Copia turned his body toward you, placing his hand on your shoulder. "Again, mi dispiace profondamente. I didn't mean to... you know... kill you."

You chuckled nervously. "I hope... not?"

"No, I didn't mean to say it that way," he stammered. "I- I mean, I meant that I didn't want to scare you with my costume to the point where you'd... well, you know."

"Forse sarebbe meglio se smettessi di giustificarti, fratello," Secondo chimed in.

Your hand went to Copia's on your shoulder, and you held it delicately as you looked at him. "Papa, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it, and I know you don't want to, you know, kill me, even though you're a very scary ghost, right?"

"Oh!" he exclaimed, blushing slightly. "Sì, sì, I'm a scary ghost! Be careful, bella... sorella!" he said, straightening his body and trying to sound scary.

You made a frightened face and playfully let go of his hand. "Please, Papa, have mercy on me. I'm just a..." you furrowed your brows. "What did you call me again?"

"Sorella," he repeated, clarifying, "It's how we call the sisters, nuns, just like you tonight, in Italian."

You nodded and resumed your scary expression. "Please, Papa, I'm just a sorella today. I'm innocent!" you said, your tone with a hint like if you were truly scared by him.

Copia chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm going to have mercy today and not go after you to haunt you, but only this time."

"Oh, don't worry, Papa. You can come after me if you want," you said, leaning back in your chair.

Copia gasped, blushing deeply, and your eyes widened as you realized what you had just said. "I'm sorry, Papa. I meant that I'm not that scared, and I won't mind to be haunted, you see? I'm very... I have a lot of courage!"

Copia nodded, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. Quickly, he retrieved the sheet from the table and draped it over himself once more, hiding his face behind it. A silence sank between you two, and you felt like all of the brothers were looking straight at you. You couldn't feel more embarrassed than you did now.

"So, where is your costume, fratello?" Terzo asked, breaking the silence, his eyes playfully scanning Copia.

Copia, draped in a simple white sheet, spread his arms wide. "Eh, this is my costume," he declared.

Terzo couldn't help but chuckle. "No, this is just a sheet from the laundry room, probably. Come on, you two have no Halloween spirit," Terzo teased. "Only Primo followed my suggestion."

Secondo, looking dapper in his suit, shook his head in mock disapproval. "Terzo, if I dressed as you asked me, you'd have two Uncle Festers for your son."

Terzo laughed. "Wouldn't that be a sight?"

Curious, you turned to Copia, who stood beside you. "And what did Terzo ask you to dress as?"

Copia grinned mischievously. "Cousin Itt."

Secondo couldn't contain his laughter. "Cousin Itt!? Oh, fratello, I take back everything I said about your costume choices."

Copia leaned closer to you and whispered, "Still, Secondo didn't wear the costume Terzo picked out for him, coglione."

You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes locking onto his as you both shared a playful moment. The proximity and the fact that you could only see his eyes under the sheet added an unexpected intimacy to the situation. Your cheeks were flushed, and you wished you had a sheet to hide behind as well, but you couldn't tear your gaze away from his. However, your attention shifted as Angèle as you notices her returning to the table, though without Andras.

"Hello, what have I missed?" she inquired as she took her seat right next to Terzo, pressing a gentle peck on his lips.

"I due che stanno flirtando," Secondo chimed in, a playful grin on his face.

"Lasciali stare, Secondo," Primo interjected.

"Non stavamo flirtando!" Copia quickly defended himself.

"Sì, stavate flirtando con lei," Terzo said with a smirk on the corner of his lips. "Where's Andras, cara mia?" he asked.

"I put him to sleep; he's being watched by Dewdrop now," Angèle explained.

"Oh, miss, do you want me to go there?" you offered, preparing to get up.

"You don't have to, dear, only if you want," Angèle replied.

"I insist; it's my job," you said, rising from your seat.

"In that case, I would appreciate it."

"Of course, miss."

"Angèle," she corrected.

"Angèle," you repeated.

With that, you politely excused yourself from the table. Copia got up after you, gracefully removing the sheet from himself and placing it on the chair. He then turned his body to face you. His hair was a little messy, and you couldn't help but giggle slightly at the view, for some reason it was charming.

"Wait, may I go with you?" Copia asked. "I want to see my nepote, and I'm afraid you don't know where you are going to stay during the week."

You were taken aback by his gesture. "Oh, that's very... gentle of you," you said, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by his offer. "Thank you, Papa."

Copia extended his arm toward you, and you hesitated for a moment before deciding to take it. The two of you walked away from the table, making your way toward the door leading to the chambers. Side by side, you and Copia entered the corridor, leaving the lively Halloween party behind.

You took a deep breath, savoring the faint scent of his cologne as you did. It was a refreshing and almost mythical fragrance that captivated your senses. You smiled, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the experience. You didn't want to forget this scent; you wanted to keep it in your memory, as it made you feel even closer to him.

Turning your face to him, you noticed that his hair was still slightly messy. Hesitantly, you extended your hand, expecting him to react, but he remained still. Gently, you reached out and smoothed his hair, your touch light and delicate.

"Thank you for coming with me, Papa," you said, glancing up at him with a warm smile.

Copia returned your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, you don't have to thank me," he replied, his voice smooth and reassuring.

"I do," you insisted, gently squeezing his arm. "After all, this is one of your first parties as a Papa here at the ministry, right?" you inquired, a soft smile on your lips as you withdrew your hand from his hair.

Copia nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, sì, sì."

"So you are the principal attraction of tonight, Papa!" you teased playfully, your tone filled with light-heartedness.

Copia chuckled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "Eh... I must confess this is all new for me."

"Really? Is it different from when you were a Cardinal?" you inquired, genuinely curious about his experience.

"Not too much when it comes to responsibilities," he explained, his gaze focused ahead as he considered your question. "They've just escalated a little more, but I still do many of the things I used to do before."

"But how do you feel about being a Papa now?" you asked curiously, your eyes fixed on Copia.

"Eh... Honestly?" Copia began, hesitating for a moment. "I'm happy with it, but can you keep a secret?"

A sense of intrigue filled you, and you nodded with a reassuring smile. "All the secrets you feel like telling me."

He blushed deeply before opening up further. "I'm very scared."

"Scared? How? Why?" Your curiosity deepened.

"I'm too afraid that they will not like me as much as they liked Terzo, Secondo and Primo" Copia admitted, his vulnerability showing.

"Copia, you can't compare yourself with your brothers," you said gently, trying to ease his worries. "And if I were you, I wouldn't worry at all. They will love you."

"Do you think so?" Copia asked, his uncertainty still lingering.

"Oh, I don't think they will, I know they will," you replied with a reassuring smile, emphasizing your confidence in him.

Copia halted his steps, his inquisitive gaze locked onto yours. "Eh, how can you be so sure?" he asked.

You paused, choosing your words carefully. "Well, I can't speak for everyone, but from what I've gathered about you through my interactions and what Terzo has shared, you come across as a gentle, kind-hearted, and dedicated man. Terzo spoke highly of your love for this place and your unwavering commitment to reaching this position. If this is something you've wanted for a long time, Papa, then there's no reason to doubt yourself. Embrace it, and you'll excel in your role at the ministry."

Copia found himself at a loss for words, overwhelmed by your kind and comforting presence. Your eyes locked into each other, creating an intimate silence in the corridor. The distant music from the ball could still be heard. Copia raised his arm slightly, as if contemplating a gesture, but then he lowered it and offered a soft, appreciative smile.

The intensity of your gaze made his cheeks flush with a deep shade of red. If he were still in his costume, he was sure he'd feel exposed, as the heat in his cheeks was almost unbearable. He was thankful that at least his face was still adorned with paint. Especially because your warm eyes were still locked onto his.

"Grazie," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with gratitude. "I don't deserve your kind heart."

You returned his smile and offered a reassuring nod. "You'll do great, Papa. Just believe in yourself."

Your eyes remained locked again in a wordless connection for a brief yet meaningful moment before Copia resumed walking, with you following closely. You two kept walking with your arms entwined, the comfortable silence enveloping you both. The only sounds that filled the corridor were the rhythmic echoes of your footsteps and the distant melody of the music from the ball. You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of closeness and ease, and you tightened your grip on his arm, silently cherishing the moment.

"So, can I ask to know more about you?" Copia inquired, breaking the silence.

"Sure," you responded timidly. "What do you want to know, Papa?"

"How long have you been working for my brother?" he inquired.

You glanced at him. "I've been with him for some months now, almost a year."

He nodded thoughtfully. "And are you enjoying it?" he asked.

With a smile, you responded, "I am! Your brother is a very nice man, his wife is really sweet, and little Andras is amazing."

"If you don't mind to answer..." Copia's curiosity didn't wane as he inquired further, "How do you feel about our little lifestyle?"

"The Satanism?" you asked, seeking clarification, and he nodded in confirmation. "I don't mind it at all. I see no harm; it all looks very cheerful and great."

Copia's expression revealed a hint of surprise. "You don't feel scared being here surrounded by our unholy place?"

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. "No, not at all. The only thing that scared me here today was you."

He sighed, showing genuine remorse. "Eh, about that... I really didn't want to scare you, not at all."

"I know, Papa. You don't have to keep apologizing. I know you were just in your costume."

Copia nodded, appreciating your understanding. "Sì, it was just a costume, after all. But I'm glad you're not afraid of our unique surroundings, or of me."

You smiled warmly. "Honestly, I find it all quite fascinating."

Copia chuckled. "Fascinating? That's not a word I hear often in this context."

"Well, it's different, and different can be interesting," you explained.

"Just like your attire tonight," he said. "You chose a very unique costume for tonight," Copia observed, his eyes sweeping up and down your nun costume.

You glanced down at your outfit and replied, "Did I?"

"Sì, our siblings here also wear habits in their daily lives, but it's just a little bit different from yours. But don't worry, you are looking very beautiful as a sorella."

"Thank you, Papa," you laughed shyly.

Copia's compliment made you blush, and you couldn't help but feel flattered by his words. As the two of you continued down the corridor, you found yourself becoming more comfortable in his presence, enjoying his charming demeanor.

"May I ask one more question?" Copia inquired.

"You can ask all the questions you want, Papa," you replied.

Copia's cheeks took on a subtle flush as he chuckled with a hint of shyness, and he nodded. "Well, I just wanted to know your name. Would you tell me your name?"

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit bashful. As you shared your name with him, Copia's lips curved into a broad smile. He nodded and repeated your name in a soft, charming tone. Hearing him say your name felt like the highlight of your night. It had a different, special quality when spoken in his accent, and it made you feel even closer to him.

As you continued to walk down the corridors of the ministry, Copia's steps began to slow, hinting that you were nearing your destination. Finally, you and Copia reached the door to your temporary residence. Copia took the lead, positioning himself in front of you. With a gentle knock on the door, you both waited for a few moments. The door eventually swung open, revealing Dewdrop.

"Good evening, Papa," Dewdrop said. "How can I help you?"

"I came here with Andras' nanny and she will stay here with him until his parents come back," he said.

Dewdrop raised an eyebrow and looked past Copia at you. "Andra's nanny, huh?"

You couldn't help but laugh and replied, "Don't mock me, Dewdrop."

Dewdrop chuckled and said, "I'm not mocking!"

"You're free to return to your duties now," Copia said, his tone carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite decipher.

"Of course, Papa," Dewdrop said.

Dewdrop stepped aside, granting you and Copia access to the place. Copia made his first step, entering the chambers. However, as you moved to enter, Dewdrop unexpectedly held your hand, causing you to let out a surprised squeak. Copia turned his attention to Dewdrop and you.

"How was at the ball?" Dewdrop inquired.

"It was..." you hesitated for a moment. "fun."

"Fun?" Dewdrop leaned in closer, a teasing tone in his voice. "Why don't I believe that your 'fun' is real?"

"Because you like to mock me," you replied, playfully pouting.

Dewdrop chuckled and let go of your hand. "I'm not mocking you right now. I was just wondering if you had fun. But maybe we should talk..." he turned his gaze to Copia before continuing, "...tomorrow."

Copia observed your interaction with Dewdrop closely, a thoughtful expression on his face. You took a step into the chambers, with Copia staring at you. As you exchanged a small smile, you turned your attention back to Dewdrop, who remained outside the door. Copia positioned himself behind you, his eyes locking onto Dewdrop once more.

"Grazie, Dewdrop. We'll take it from here," he said.

Dewdrop gave a polite nod and closed the door behind you. You and Copia were now alone in there. You took a moment to look around, and your eyes widened in amazement. The room was much larger and more lavish than you had anticipated. Intricately designed works of art adorned the walls, and the color scheme was meticulously coordinated, creating an elegant and inviting ambiance that took you by surprise. You couldn't help but appreciate the attention to detail that had gone into decorating the room.

"Did you like it?" Copia inquired, gesturing for you to follow him further into the room.

"It's bigger than I expected," you admitted, glancing around in awe.

"It's going to be mine," he explained.

"Yours?" you questioned.

"Sì, this place was supposed to be mine for now, as it's the Papal apartment. However, I don't need this much space at the moment, so I thought it was better to give it to Terzo and his family, while I stay in my old chambers."

"Are you sure, Papa? I mean..."

"I'm completely sure, don't worry. Besides, my room has everything I need – a bed, a TV, my video game, and even my lava lamp," he said with a playful grin, noticing your intrigued expression.

"Did you say a lava lamp?" you asked, clearly fascinated. "I haven't seen one for so long!"

Copia's grin widened as he saw your excitement. "Sì. I find the shifting colors and blobs of lava oddly soothing."

"They are very... hypnotizing for sure," you said.

He laughed softly. "Let me show you to your room," Copia smiled warmly. "Follow me, cuoricina."

You nodded appreciatively as he led the way to your designated room. He extended his hand to open the door for you, and you acknowledged his gesture with another nod before stepping inside. As you entered the room, your eyes widened in astonishment. The room was decorated in warm, neutral colors, with a comfortable-looking bed, a small desk, and a window that overlooked the beautiful garden outside.

Copia gestured towards the room. "This will be your room during your stay," he explained. "Please, make yourself at home."

"Thank you, Papa," you replied with a grateful smile.

Eager to explore, you wandered around the room, but your curiosity drew you to the window. It was large and clear, and you pressed your hands against the cool glass, looking down at the vast garden below. Even in the darkness, the small lights scattered throughout the garden made it appear enchanting. As you gazed, a slight shiver ran down your spine, and your body tensed a bit as you felt Copia's warm hand on your lower back, his touch gentle and comforting.

"Did you like it?" he asked, his fingers gently rubbing your lower back.

As you turned your face towards him, your eyes met his. Copia's face was softly illuminated by the ambient light from outside the window, accentuating his handsome features. The moment felt like it stretched on for eternity, and you wished you could freeze time to continue gazing at him, to savor his touch a little longer. However, you couldn't just stand there in silence, no matter how much you wanted to.

Breaking the silence, you finally spoke, your voice trembling slightly, "I loved it."

"I think this room has the best view of them all," he whispered, his eyes fixed on you.

"I think you're right, Papa," you whispered back.

Copia withdrew his hand from your back and concealed both of his hands behind his back. He turned his attention to the garden, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. But you couldn't tear your gaze away from him. For someone associated with a satanic church, he appeared ethereal and bathed in an inexplicable grace, as if touched by a blessing rather than something sinful.

"So you are friend with Dewdrop?" Copia inquired, breaking the silence.

"Oh, well, I suppose we're friends of sorts," you replied. "He sometimes visits Terzo's house with ministry-related items.

"Eh! That's right," he nodded. "That makes sense."

You giggled, turning your body to face him. "He told me that he's one of the older ghouls here, and that's quite fascinating, to be honest."

"Fascinating?" he inquired.

"Yes, it's intriguing," you explained. "First, because he's been here for such a long time, and second, because he's also a Ghoul. I have no real understanding of what Ghouls are, but I have my theories."

Copia moved closer to you. "So, you find ghouls fascinating?"

"Yes, I do," you said with genuine curiosity. "I've always wondered where they come from."

Copia hesitated and then said, "I'm afraid I can't reveal that. It's a secret of the ministry."

You pouted and pleaded, "Really, Papa? You won't tell me?"

Copia couldn't resist your charm. He grinned playfully. "Well, alright. You see, when a Ghoul and a Ghoulette love each other..."

You burst into laughter, cutting him off. "Stop it! That's not how it happens!"

Copia chuckled at your reaction. "You're right, that's not how it happens, but I couldn't resist."

You playfully rolled your eyes, followed by a smile. "You're really not going to tell me, right?"

Copia shook his head regretfully. "I wish I could, trust me, but I can't."

"It's okay, Papa," you whispered, drawing nearer to him.

"Shall we head back to the party?" he suggested, his hand reaching for your hand.

"Uh... I can't, Papa. I need to stay here with Andras," you responded.

"Right! I completely forgot," he sighed. "I'm a lousy uncle."

"No, Papa, you're not," you reassured him. "I know you're an amazing uncle."

Copia's gaze remained locked with yours, and a brief silence hung in the air. He moved to say something, but just as he began to speak, the sound of Andras crying echoed from the room next door. Without hesitation, you swiftly exited the room and hurried into the adjacent one. There, you opened the door and approached the small crib. With gentle hands, you lifted Andras into your arms, comforting him as he cried.

With Andras in your arms, you gradually managed to calm him down, and his cries gradually transformed into soft, whimpering sounds. Copia watched the scene unfold from the doorway, his smile reflecting his appreciation for your comforting skills. It was a heartwarming moment as you continued to soothe the little one, both of you providing him with the care and attention he needed.

"Is he all right?" Copia asked as he walked over to you.

You turned to him with a reassuring smile. "Yes, he just needed a little attention. Babies can be quite sensitive, but they usually calm down with some care and comfort."

Copia nodded in agreement, his gaze shifting to Andras as he gently caressed the his head. "You're really good with him."

"I guess so," you replied, still holding Andras. "Are you awake to see your zio Copia?"

"Zio? Do you speak Italian?"

"Oh, not at all," you chuckled, gently rocking Andras. "But Terzo always talks about you three as his zio, so I just got used to it."

Copia chuckled at your response. "That's quite observant of you. Impressive."

"Thank you, Papa," you replied with a hint of pride.

Copia then extended his arms toward Andras. "So, before I go back to the party, can I hold my nepote a little bit?"

"Of course," you replied, gently passing Andras into Copia's waiting arms.

Copia's face lit up with a warm smile as he cradled Andras in his arms. The baby looked small and fragile in comparison to the tall and imposing figure of Copia, but there was a gentle tenderness in the way he held him. Copia's eyes were fixated on Andras, who gazed up at him with curious eyes. It was a heartwarming sight, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment as you watched the two of them together.

"You look well with him in your arms," you remarked, your gaze fixed on the bonding pair.

"Do I?" Copia giggled softly. "I always heard I had a way with kids."

"I think you do too," you said with sincerity, a smile gracing your lips.

As you took a step closer to Copia and Andras, you gently reached for the baby's hand, feeling his tiny fingers wrap around one of yours. Copia's eyes met yours, and there was an unspoken connection between you two. You both shared a smile, and in that moment, you realized that Copia's presence was even more captivating in person than in any photograph. The depth of his gaze and the warmth of his smile were something that couldn't be fully captured in pictures. You found yourself drawn to the genuine warmth and kindness in Copia's eyes.

However, the tender moment between you and Copia was suddenly interrupted by Andras's cries, breaking the connection you shared. Copia gently rocked the baby in his arms, trying to soothe him, while you reached out to touch Andras's tiny cheek, offering comfort and reassurance. Andras's cries filled the room, making it clear that he needed attention and care. Copia looked at you with a slightly apologetic smile as he continued his attempts to calm the baby.

"It seems like Andras prefers your company," Copia remarked, his voice filled with warmth as he tried to ease the baby's distress.

With that, Copia carefully handed Andras back to you, allowing you to resume your soothing efforts. You gently cradled Andras, who had started to show signs of drowsiness. You carefully walked over to the crib, and with a tender touch, you placed him back in it. Andras seemed to settle down once again, his eyelids growing heavier as he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Copia watched the scene with a soft smile. "Grazie for taking care of m- him," he said, his tone a little nervous.

You turned to him with a warm smile. "It's my pleasure, Papa. And also, my job."

Copia nodded, leaning closer to the crib to admire his sleeping nephew. His fingers gently brushed over Andras's tiny hand, and a warm smile played on his lips. "I should head back to the party. But can I walk you to your chambers?"

"Papa, I'm already here, my room is right next door," you chuckled, stepping closer to him.

"Eh! Sì, sì, my silly mistake, sì?" He chuckled, his eyes filled with amusement.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Papa!" you teased, playfully patting his arm. "Maybe my outfit is causing the confusion."

You reached for the veil of your nun costume, fingers deftly untangling the knot that held it in place. As you removed the costume piece, Copia's gaze briefly fell upon you, but he quickly averted his eyes, fixating on some unseen point in the room.

"Better now?" you asked.

Copia turned his gaze back to you, his eyes tracing your figure from head to toe. He took a deep breath and nodded. There was a hint of a word that he seemed to hold back. You giggled and decided to distract yourself by tucking Andras into his crib. After turning off a nearby lamp, you walked back towards Copia, stopping in front of him.

"Maybe I can walk you to the front door?" you offered, reaching for his shirt and adjusting it neatly around his neck.

Copia looked at your hand and then nodded thoughtfully. You both left Andras's room, quietly closing the door behind you. Walking together down the corridor, your footsteps produced a faint echo on the polished floors. Approaching the front door, you hesitated for a moment. You stopped in front of it and your hand hovered over the doorknob. You glanced at Copia, who seemed lost in his thoughts as he stared at you.

"Thank you again for accompanying me, Papa," you expressed, your voice sincere and appreciative.

Copia blinked as if snapping out of a reverie, his attention returning to you. "Oh, mi dispiace," he responded, his voice gentle. "I was momentarily lost in thought. You were saying?"

"I was thanking you," you reiterated, a faint smile on your lips. "For coming with me and for letting us stay in your Papal apartment."

Copia offered you a warm smile in return. "You're most welcome. It was a pleasure to be of assistance. I hope you and Andras have a pleasant night."

With that, Copia stepped through the open door into the corridor, and you leaned against the doorframe, your eyes fixed on his retreating figure. Copia turned his body back to you and paused for a moment, contemplating something. Slowly, he extended his hand toward you, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for yours, holding it.

"I hope you find your room comfortable. If there's anything you need or any questions you have, don't hesitate to ask me or any of the Ghouls. We're here to make your time at the ministry enjoyable If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask," he said with a reassuring tone. "And remember, you can always reach me."

Copia brought your hand closer to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of it. You nodded, blushing deeply at his words, and bit your lower lip, trying to contain your emotions. Taking a deep breath, you offered him a warm smile. As he released your hand, his lips lightly brushed against your skin, and you felt his grip tighten. Your breath caught in your throat, but you fought to maintain your composure.

“Of course, Papa. Have a great time at the party, and don’t scare anyone else with your costume," you playfully remarked.

Copia chuckled. “I’ll do my best. Arrivederci, bella sorella.”

“Arrivederci, Papa,” you replied as he turned to leave, heading back to the Halloween party.

Copia came to a sudden halt, turning his head to look back at you over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned and strolled down the corridor. As he gradually disappeared from your sight, you closed the door gently. Leaning against the door, you took a deep breath, your eyes closed, and you bit your lower lip slightly. There was no doubt about it – Copia was even more captivating in person than in the photos.

Grammar

Ho tentato: I tried

Fratello: Brother

Sì: Yes

Signora: Lady

Il piacere è tutto mio: The pleasure is all mine

Hai lo spirito di Halloween! Sapevo che non mi avresti deluso: You have the spirit of Halloween! I knew you wouldn't disappoint me!

Cretino: Idiot

Bella signora: Beautiful lady

Piccolo demone: Little demon

Ciao piccolo: Hello, little one

Il tuo zio preferito ti ha fatto mancare, mio piccolo demone: Your favorite uncle missed you, my little demon

Zio preferito: Favorite uncle

Bambino: Child

Ti ho spaventato? Mi dispiace, non era mia intenzione!: Did I scare you? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!

Bene, molto bene: Good, very good

Non cominciare neanche: Don't even start

Non stavo per dire niente: I wasn't going to say anything

Mi dispiace profondamente: I'm deeply sorry

Nepote: Nephew

Forse sarebbe meglio se smettessi di giustificarti, fratello: Maybe it would be best if you stop trying to justify yourself, brother

Coglione: Idiot

I due che stanno flirtando: The two of them flirting

Lasciali stare: Leave them alone

Non stavamo flirtando!: We weren't flirting!

Sì, stavate flirtando con lei: Yes, you were flirting with her

Cara mia: My dear

Grazie: Thank you

Cuoricina: Sweetheart

Mi dispiace: I'm sorry

Arrivederci: Goodbye

Taglist: @copiasslut @copiasprincipessa @enchantedbunny @haelithra @new-age-space-age @the-did-i-ask @sodoswitchimage @thesoundresoundsecho @fishwithtitz @nimbusghoul @da-rulahh @th4t-em0-k1d @citrusbunnies @copias-sewer-rat @reeeebeeee @ghostfangirlsweden @copiaspet6222 @lilylovesdew @quaildoodle @fluffysourpatch @terzossoapbar @x1nd1g0x @fantasticdeercollection

[titan-senpai]

The Pearl of my life

A/N; Since i'm taking a break of Neteyam i figured it was time to give Ao’nung more love <33 Okay no Angst this time , might make this into a mini series tho- ( I have an headcanon that if a na'vi asks a navi to be their mate they go on one knee kinda like proposing..and alot more buy yall are going to see it obvi loll) Maybe a few spelling mistakes loll

Ao’nung x Metkayina F pregnant reader

~ Y/N a Quiet girl who didnt like drama and avoided any drama and guy who asked for her hand… How did she end up with the Olo’eyktans son? You ask me lolll.

Years ago Ao’nung noticed a girl sitting by the water while his group laughed and played with a group of Kids.. That girl stood out. A lot of people knew her as the odd quiet one, But they did notice her beauty and so did a lot of young warriors.. but she rejected every one she came by.. till she finally faced Ao’nung years later… At age 15 they connected like soulmates even though Y/N didn't like to talk a lot to strangers. Surprisingly she was talkative and nice. She was just shy with new people.. but soon with the help of Ao’nung she started talking more.

years later Ao’nung asked for Y/N hand to be her mate..She said yes in a heartbeat… at 19~ let’s see how the lovely young couple is doing.

~Year 2174.. 

“Will You be my mate?” He asked Going down on one knee, holding her hand on his forehead, Closing his eyes, waiting for an Answer. “Oh.. Nung.. Yes..” Moving her hand to cup his face.

As he stood up Putting their foreheads together “Always..” Y/N smiled as tears fled down her cheeks.

The news broke through the clans even through some neighboring clans, “You sure you want him??” Lo’ak Laughed about it “Shush child I’m happy to have another daughter” Ronal patted Lo’ak on his shoulders ``it will be your turn soon” Y/N smiled Pointing at Tsireya and Lo’ak as they both blushed in union. “Who knows in the future but let’s focus on you two now shall we.” Tonowari said glaring at Lo’ak with a protective father look.

~A month later Ronal Convinced her son to mate with Y/N tonight.. The moon was perfect, everything was calculated by her and tonight was it. you were going to be his.. and he was going to be yours

Like the Omatcaya have the tree of voices the metkayina have a Cave of Voices, covered in Colorful corals and crystals, symbols on the inside of the cave with some glowing crystals.. as you made the bond for the first time everything felt new and it felt out of this world.. that was the night when 2 souls danced as 1 for the first time..

~9 Months passed quickly now holding a Baby navi boy that you just gave birth to 10 mins ago

ronal said hello to her first Grandson.. "He looks exacly like ao'nung when i had him.." She smiled waving her finger around so that he would hold her finger in his tiny hands " He is pretty cute, let's just hope he wont end up having his personality.." I smiled as she laughed at my comment "I'm sure he wont" as she stood up from the bed "I'll let him in now goodluck." She smiled opening the door "You can go see her now" before she could say anything Aonung flew by his mother to see his child. "Shush dont make so much noise." i placed a finger over my lips shushing him. as he gulpted and sat down next to me. "Meet your father.." I handed him over to Ao'nung helping him hold the baby.. " Hello there son, Ive been waiting for you for a while now.. cant believe how strong your mother is.." he said smiling as he played with him. soon the rest followed Tsireya,Tonowari, Roxto, and the sully's oh and aonung's now 4/5 year old baby brother Zani't ( Random name)

everyone said hello and had some time with the precious baby, but soon everyone left and it was just the 2 of you or should i say 3 of you "You got a name yet? " I smiled looking down at the baby peacefully sleeping in my arms "Ao'nung Jr?" He joked " I wil not call our child ao'nung Jr, No way " I slapped him on his neck "Ow-owh okay okay how about..Käioe?" "Käioe? I like it." i smiled as he kissed my cheek "Käioe it is"

"Our little family was finally starting..."

More of my avatar content?? check it out &lt;;33

[lunajay33]

Brother Trouble❤️‍🩹

Summary: You went out looking for formula with Glenn and Maggie and came across Merle, your boyfriends lost brother and things don’t go well

•Masterlist•

Ive been with the group since the start at the quarry, I first was drawn to Daryl but was always nervous to approach him when Merle was around but once he was gone me and Daryl grew to love each other and have been together ever since the incident at the CDC

“Let’s get Judith a toy, it’ll be good for her to play with something!” I said to Glenn as he went into the store

After we picked up what we needed we loaded it into the truck and we’re about to leave but I still had a basket in my hand

“Well hello, what are you all doing out here” I heard, turning to see Merle with a gun held up to us, making Maggie and Glenn to take out theirs and raise them

“Merle, you’re alive” Glenn stated

“Woah Woah Woah, Glenn and y/n good to see y’all, is Daryl still with ya, is he alive?” He asked as he lowered his gun

“He’s still alive”

“Can you take me to him”

“You stay here and we will tell him” Glenn said with his gun still held up

“Come on just take me to where you are”

“No like I said we will bring him here”

I could see the anger rise on Merle’s face and I knew there was trouble, it happens so fast, he pulled out a gun from his pants and shot, I ducked and when I looked up he hand his makeshift arm knife to Maggie’s throat

“Get in the car now or she dies” Merle said pushing his knife harder against Maggie

I dropped the basket and we all got in the truck and we drove off to god knows where

~~~~~~

We were all in esperante rooms, tied to a chair but I could hear everything, I could hear Glenn get beat to a pulp and Maggie crying then it was my turn when merle came in with the governor

“Now who do we have here?” The governor asked but I didn’t say a word, I wasn’t really one to talk much, maybe that’s why Daryl liked being around me but I knew from the pasted that merle hated it

“She not talk or something?” He asked merle

“Oh she talks, she just a freak that never speaks when spoken to” Merle said as he walked behind me and held his knife to my throat like he did Maggie

“Where is my brother huh?” He asked as he lightly slide the knife across my neck enough to draw blood

I still didn’t break, the prison was our home I couldn’t sell that out

“Untie her” the governor said and Merle was quick to cut the ropes and make me stand

“Now take off your clothes” he said and I was stunned

“No”

“Oh she does speak, you will take off all your clothes or your buddies in the next rooms will be dead by night fall” he said glaring into my soul

I felt sick but I couldn’t risk the lives of my family

I took off all my clothes with shaky hands and covered myself with my hands

“Do what you have to go get her to talk, I’ll be back later and you better have an answer” he said the Merle as he left the room

I looked at merle scared for my life

He was smirking and started to cut me all over my body, leaving blood drip all over my body, the pain was unbearable and he started hitting on me like he did to Glenn, after a while of this torture I was left on the floor feeling like a shell of a person

I still didn’t rat out or home and he left, I sat in the corner naked, bloody and bruised

I heard trouble in the room over and Maggie and Glenn crying then I heard Maggie tell them about the prison

I sighed but understood how hard it was for them

“Y/n! Are you okay?” I heard Maggie yell out

“Im fine” i answered back not wanting to stress them any further

I waited in that room for a while just praying Daryl would come and rescue me and make me feel alright again and that’s when I heard guns, and fighting

The door to my room was being kicked in and that when I saw him, my savior and my love

“Daryl” I sighed feeling relieved

He ran up to me with the others at the door

He looked so mad but his eyes showed hurt, sadness and concern

He took off his flannel and wrapped it around me

“Come on peach, we’re gonna get you home” he said as he lifted me up and supported me by holding my waist and helping me walk out

We followed the others and I tried to keep up even though I felt so weak

Bullets were flying and gun shots were all I heard, axel got hit but the rest of us got out

We got to the truck and I instantly passed out on Daryl’s lap knowing I was safe now

~The next day~

I woke up in mine and Daryl’s cell and tried sitting up but groaned at the pain, I looked down and I was all patched up and dressed in Daryl comfy clothes

“Daryl?” I called out and in a second he was next to the bed

“Hey peach, how’re ya feelin?” He asked as he brushed my hair back, just the feeling of him near me makes me feel better, but I still have that ache inside

“I’m fine”

“Don’t lie to me, how I found ya that’s not fine, what happened?”

“I’m not ready yet” I said looking away feeling guilty, I know I’m evil and sick with Merle but he was the only family Daryl had left and I felt so conflicted

“I’m here when yer ready my peach, now come on let’s get some food in ya” he said picking me up and bring me out to the eating area

~Few days Later~

I got up late still trying to deal with what happened and when I walked out to help Beth with Judith I saw Merle talking with the others

I felt my heart drop and I felt sick again but this time I physically got sick just from the thought of being near him

I ran to a near by bin and threw up, I felt a hand rub my back and I knew it was Daryl

“Ya alright?” He asked

“What is he doing here Daryl?” I asked as my voice quivered

“He left that place I couldn’t leave him out there”

“Y’all seem pretty chummy brother” Merle said from across the room

“Well ya they’ve been together for a long time” Beth stated

“This is yer bitch” he asked shocked

“Watch yer mouth” Daryl groaned glaring at him

“If I knew I wouldn’t ‘ave…..” he trailed off

“What? Wouldn’t ‘ave done what?” Daryl asked standing up

“The governor he….he made me do it”

“You’re lying, he left the room you could’ve just left me” I stated

Daryl looked between me and Merle and it clicked

“YOU DID THIS TO HER?” Daryl yelled

“Dumb bitch put up a fight I had to get answers” that’s when Daryl got up close to him completely vivid

I couldn’t stand being in here anymore, I snuck out the cell block and sat out side

I tried to get the memories out of my head but it just kept playing over in my head

“You know the governor did something similar to me when we were there” I heard next to me and it was Maggie

“I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to forget, I feel so dirty”

“I think you’ll feel better when you get this off your chest and tell Daryl” she says as she gets up and leaves being replaced by Daryl himself

“I wouldn’t have brought him here if I knew, I’m sorry peach, I hate that I wasn’t there earlier to save ya”

“I feel wrong, I feel so dirty and I don’t know if I’ll ever feel better again, what they made me do, what they did to me”

“What did he do peach?”

I sighed realizing I need to tell him

“They made me take off all my clothes, they said if I didn’t they’d kill Glenn and Maggie, then….Merle tortured me, cut me up until I was just blood, beat me until he got too tired, humiliated me and all the others saw me like that when you saved me, I just don’t wanna feel like this anymore” I said crying feeling Daryl pull me close

“I’ll never let anything happen to ya again, I’m s’ sorry, I’ll get rid of him immediately”

“You can’t kick out your brother Daryl, I don’t wanna hurt you by doing that” I said

“He ain’t my brother anymore after doing that to you, to my peach, all I care about is how yer feeling and can’t have that when he’s around, plus I’ll try and kill ‘im if I have to be near him knowing he hurt ya”

“I love you so much Daryl, more than anything” I said looking up at him

“Love ya too, yer my world and nothin’ll ever hurt ya again”

~~~~~~

Thanks for reading everyone lmk what you thought and leave suggestions for more walking dead imagines

[lvlyghost]

Call of Duty Headcanons: Vol I✨

How they’d react to their civilian s/o getting hurt

Pairings: John Price x Fem!Civilian!Reader

Tw: mentions of blood, angst(?, knife wound, price is sad. Laswell makes an appearance. Brief mention of Ghost bc 🥰. There’s probably more but I’m bad at this🧍🏻‍♀️

A/N: Heyyyy. So this is my first time writing something and posting it 👉🏻👈🏻 please bear with me and consider english is not my first language 🥹 corrections are appreciated ✨💃🏻I’ll be posting the rest in the upcoming days💕🌼 Enjoy!

Vol II✨ Vol III✨ Vol IV✨

The moment he had stepped in he knew something was wrong. The living room in complete darkness safe from the dim light coming from the lamp in your room. Door ajar.

He almost trembled at the utter sound of nothing.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the dead of the night, making his way to the bedroom you too shared.

Pushing the door open with more strength than he intended to, he saw you laying on the beige carpet, now stained with a deep red color tracing a path towards your body. As if someone had cut themselves by accident and left traces of blood behind.

“No, no, no, no, no.” His face contorted in pain.

Price had seen a fair amount of atrocities in his line of work. Bullet wounds, soldiers losing their limbs due to grenades. Lost brothers in every mission some of them dying on his watch. In his arms.

He crouched down, the absolute gruesome scene imprinted in his memory for the rest of his life. It wasn’t looking good yet he forced himself to breathe caressing your left cheek, trying to feel you. But your once warm body had gone pale and cold. His heart aches, like having his own soul being torn apart.

“Come on now, love. I’m here now.” John raked his eyes through your body until he found the wound. A few centimeters above your belly button. He froze for a second too long. A knife wound. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. It was inhumane. The amount of blood coming out from you. He placed one of his big hands to try to stop you from bleeding out. He had done it more times than he can remember. But never you. Just not you. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were good. Too good to be true. Too good for him. You were supposed to be safe from any bloody harm. He swore a silent oath that he’d look after his girl, he’d protect you even if it meant risking his own meaningless life. Tears began to prickle in the corner of his eyes. Jaw tightening. He has to be strong. But how? You’re his life force and now… why, why… why you.

“John.”

More blood comes spluttering from your mouth as you try to speak, say something to him. Tell him to not worry, that you’d be fine. It wasn’t that bad, was it? Your eyes were starting to close, your body losing life.

“Shh, love. Save your energy. Just… just, don’t close your eyes… keep ‘em on me okay? I’m getting you out of here now.

“Remember that trip to Florida we said we’d take when I got back? 1 hotel south beach?” A slow hum came from your red stained lips. “I got the tickets yesterday night. But I need you to be strong, eh?” He swallowed, hard. He was choking with his own emotions. There was a fire burning in his throat. She nodded, even through her watery eyes, even through the fear, she dared to believe. She believed that he would save her. And that was enough.

He’d call Laswell right away. Whatever this is, it wasn’t a random attack. His Captain instincts were screaming at him. John felt the presence of the person he trusted the most aside from Ghost, coming to stand by him. His eyes never once left your fragile body on the hospital bed. Looking vulnerable, small. Yet a fighter.

That’s my girl.

Price dreaded that if he left your side for a second you’d slip through his fingers. You’d be gone someplace he simply cannot follow.

“Made some calls.” Kate told him. John didn’t look at her, at first, he simply nodded ever so slightly. “We have reasons to believe this was a warning. A way to to get to you. To get your attention.”

“Well they bloody have it now, Kate.” He said, through gritted teeth. Clenching and unclenching his hands, finally turning his gaze to her. “Call my fucking team.”

[gaylordscooter]

Log of the Multiverse: Nightmare

hoo boy i got shivers just writing down their name.

i'm doing their entry before dream's because, like ink, i'll let him write his own. too bad he's so incredibly busy all the time

now nightmare, his brother, the guardian of negativity. they're terrifying. i can't believe they're dream's twin. they hardly even look like a skeleton.

Thankfully they're nowhere NEAR as active as Dream is. in fact, it's a rare sight to see them for the average person. unfortunately i'm with a group of loony people that happen to be the only people nightmare would seek out from time to time.

i actually got a sticky note i wrote on after i encountered them for the first time

[there's a somewhat crumpled sticky note taped on, it reads:

their touch hurts, presumably because of the goop (speaking of goop. no idea what it's made out of). reminds me of the time i spilt hydrochloric acid on my foot on accident. however, it doesn't actually leave a wound or lasting pain, like touching fire without getting burned

you’ll know they're near when you get a heavy feeling in your soul, similar to blue magic but if it hated you.

negative feelings fuel them. it’s like their food. would being happy drive them away?

they don't kill as long as they find you useful apparently im “a cesspool of anxiety and guilt that provides a plentiful amount of energy”. i hope they choke on my feelings.]

i forgot about that last bit. moving on

they've caused quite a bit of commotion back in their peak. they were on par with error in terms of disturbing universes. they just had. different methods (such as, killing loved ones in front of people, making people live out their worst fears, spilling people's very important secrets, manipulating people who are close to hate each other, ruining the happy endings of many universes) they're a lot more sadistic than error. i suppose that makes sense. they ARE the guardian of negativity.

now i was still in my universe while that was happening, i'm just paraphrasing what ink told me.

and then they just suddenly cut back. they stopped doing all of that.

ink expected this, obviously. he knew how their script goes. (of course he cant TELL me what happens in his script. he can only drop hints and even then he tries not to, to play it safe)

what i do know is that the balance between negativity and positivity is Very much out of wack. what i don't know is what the consequence of that is. yet.

I'm gonna go on a limb and say it's nothing good and buckle up for the ride.

wow it sure sucks knowing something bad is gonna happen and being powerless to stop it. how the hell does ink do it.

side note: ive been calling them the "guardian of negativity" but i don't actually know what that entails. same with dream's title as "guardian of positivity". honestly i don't think either of them know either.

i guess dream's positive all the time, like he can't even feel negative emotions

oh my god im stupid. he literally can't, can he?

then that would mean nightmare cant feel positive emotions. that's. wow. huh.

shit. well, i'm gonna have a chat with dream. or ink, if he doesn't want to talk.

[catholic-character-tournament]

Round 1 - Side A

Galahad art credit @spiralstain

Propaganda below ⬇️

Junk Rat

I wish his Catholicism meant if he got killed in game it would take him 3 days to respawn

Galahad

OKAY SO . "Galahad (played by Jonny d'Ville): a travelling preacher/religious zealot who is told to sit in the Siege Seat by Merlin, and discovers the fact that Fort Galfridian is falling into the star Avalon. He sparks the quest for the GRAIL, and willingly goes to his death to overcome its final defences." DUDE SAT IN THE CHAIR THAT IS KNOWN FOR KILLING PEOPLE BECAUSE HIS CRUSH [MERLIN] [AKA HANGED MAN] [AKA DRUMBOT BRIAN] TOLD HIM TO . SORRY I THINK THATS REALLY FUNNY. he found out the whole shitshow of a spacestation he lived on was gonna fall into the sun and he went around yelling about it incomprehensibly and got fucking gunned down trying to get the GRAIL and just kept going through the gunfire because of how Religious [tm] he was . he died . in once and future king it just "galahad's blind faith" . also hellfire goes really hard . he is the definition of going insane with the knowledge of the universe . also jonny dville played him thats bonus points

There was a prophet. The prophet gave three separate people three separate instructions. 1. Stop being racist 2. Love your son 3. Sit in the Chair That Makes People Insane Galahad received number three. He was the only one who followed the instructions. He sat in the Chair That Makes People Insane, saw the sun for the first time, and immediately starts preaching about how everyone will burn in hellfire

i dont know anything about this guy i just wanna help make Kai happy please dont like not count my submission just because i dont know anythinf except for the Kills You Chair im trying my best im sorry 😭

his themesong is called hellfire and it slaps btw go listen to it. anyways he is my blorbo blingus he is Deeply unwell i could fix him but also whatever is wrong with him is incredibly fascinating to watch. a robot dude who's been hanging from the gallows since forever told him 'hey go sit in the Chair That Kills People Who Sit In It' and he was like 'I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT MY ENTIRE LIFE'. the getting-his-brain-fried thing definitely made him worse but he was also clearly kind of fucked up before that. his death is probably one of my favorite scenes in any mechs album. maybe just straight up my favorite. ahem. SAY WHAT YOU WILL ABOUT FAITH, BUT IT CAN HAVE POWERFUL EFFECTS ON THOSE THAT HAVE IT. IT CAN KEEP YOU FROM FALTERING AS THE BULLETS START TO SLAM INTO YOU. IT CAN KEEP YOU WALKING AS YOU LEGS ARE SHOT TO BLOODY STUMPS. IT CAN KEEP YOU LAUGHING AS YOUR LUNGS ARE FILLED WITH SHRAPNEL AND LEAD. IT CAN KEEP YOU SMILING AS HALF YOUR FACE IS BLOWN AWAY. IT CAN KEEP A MAN LIKE GALAHAD STANDING TALL UNTIL THE GUNS. CLICKED. DRY. anyways go listen to high noon over camelot <3

my friends my people my... flock I HAVE HAD A VISION!! A VAST FIERY ORB FLOATIN IN AN ENDLESS VOID!! and there so small so feagile US!!! BUT FALLIN FALLIN FALLIN INTO THE FLAMES!!! your soul is connected to the world youre in youre draggin it down with the weight of your sin surrounded by temptation and y'just give in we're fallin into the flames OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HEEEEELLLLLLFIIIRE YOUR BROW BECOMES SLICK AS YOU PERSPIRE YOU THINK YOURE THIRSTY NOW WAIT TIL IT GETS DRIER AND YA FEEL THE HEAT OF THE FLAMES OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE YOUR SICK AND SINFUL LIES WILL BUILD A FUNERAL PYRE YOUR PERVERSION SCARS THE STATION SON ITS GONAN FRY HER AND WE ALLLLLL FALL INTO THE FLAMES... oh i have SEEN DAMNATION MY BROTHERS!! ive FELT its searing heat within my VERY BONES !!!!!!! but there is a way me be saved... "OH TELL US FATHER GALAHAD, TELL US" I HEAR YOU CRY "IS IT PIETY IS IT PURITY IS IT VIRTUE?" NO!!! ONLY WAY TO SAVE US NOW IS THE HOLY GRAIL ITSELF... HAHAHAHAHHAAAA.... WELL THAT ORB OF DAMNATION MAKES THE SUN SEEM PALE YOURE QUITE CORRECT TO QUIVER YOU ARE RIGHT TO QUAIL THE ONLY WAY TO SAVE US IS TO FIND THAT GRAIL OR WE ALL FALL INTO THE FLAMES OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE YOUR SKIN STARTS TO SIZZLE AS YOU EXPIRE YOU CLAIM TO BE VIRTUOUS BUT YOURE A LIAR !!!!! AND YOU FEEL THE HEAT OF THE FLAMES ... i said HEEEELLLLFIIIIRE HEEEEEEEELLLLFIRE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLFIIIIIREEE HEEEEEEELLLLLLFIIIIIIRE OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE AT THE HEART OF THAT INFERNO THAT WILL NEVER TIRE IVE SEE THE END IS NIGH AND DAMNATIONS NIGHER OH WE ALL FALL INTO THE FLAMES

Ok i know this is kind of a shot in the dark because hes so obscure but i need to speak my truth. Hes so insane. The narrator calls him a “holy roller.” He has a vision which is meant to tell him that the place they live is LITERALLY going to get burnt to a crisp because its slowly falling into the sun. But hes like Oh my god i just had a vision of hell i need to save everyone from eternal damnation. And he happily gets killed and turned into a pile of slop because he believes its what he was “chosen to do” he quite literally dies for his religion. Hes also quite funny. I like him. Thank you

[propertyofwicked]

never have i ever... | rafe cameron

not my gif

warnings: none that i can think of :)

had a troll pt1 

“rafe isnt who you think he is. you need to leave before he turns on you too” 

the text wasn’t what you were expecting to receive from an anonymous number on your way to work at the country club. you were used to getting dirty looks from kook girls at the club who would sell their souls to spend one night with your boyfriend, but texting you was a new level of obsessed. did it worry you? not really. you’d heard things about rafe and what he was capable of - mainly from your brother. john b and rafe had a long standing history of hatred for each other, which had only gotten more extreme when he had caught rafe climbing out of your bedroom window at 3am a week ago. since then rafe had been walking around town with a busted lip and a black eye and your brother had been ignoring you since. 

“what’s up with you darlin’“ the voice of your boyfriend softens the furrowed grimace you hadn’t realised you’d been holding for the duration of your shift. he’d been walking back from the toilets when he saw you walking towards the kitchens. 

“nothing really. grumpy kooks clicking their fingers at me thinking they’re going to be served quicker, oh and a text i got earlier.”

“a text? from who?”

“dunno, anonymous number. just said that you weren’t who you say you are and i should leave now. it’s probably just some girl you looked in the general direction of once.”

“sounds about right,” he gives you a small nod, “have they sent anything else?”

“not yet.”

“good. if they do, ignore it,” he ended, his jaw tightening slightly at the thought of someone trying to mess with his girl. his hands sneak around your waist, pulling you to his chest, and his lips pressing a short kiss to yours, and your forehead before pulling away and letting you return to your shift. 

upon finishing your shift you check your phone again. a text from your manager with you schedule for next week, one from rafe letting you know he’ll be at topper’s if you wanted to join, and another one from the anonymous number. 

“he’s not good for you y/n. he’ll turn against you soon enough. leave him before he hurts you.”

rafe used to be a bad guy, you’ll admit that - hell, he’d admit that. but since meeting you, he was off the drugs, not getting in as many fights, and when he said he loved you, you genuinely believed him. nothing had ever made you doubt it till now. maybe this person knew him? an ex maybe? he’d been with girls before, he’d had girlfriends but it never lasted long. will he leave you when it gets too serious, like he had with the others? you quickly responded to rafe, telling him you were just going to go home and get in bed. should you respond to the troll? rafe told you not to but maybe if you could find out who it was you’d be able to see if there was any truth to the matter.

“who are you? what do you know?” you type out in response, putting your phone in your pocket and beginning the walk to the chateau. when you got home, the lights were on, and the pogues sat on the porch, beers in hand.

“hey y/n,” your brother says, making you double take - he’d been ignoring you all week and now he greets you with a smile? 

“hey bird, hey guys,” you greet him and the others, “any beers for me?” 

jj throws a can in your direction, that you open immediately and down half the can.

“thirsty y/n?” kie asks, chuckling slightly as you finish the rest and toss the can to the side.

“parches beyond belief, the club was so busy i haven’t managed to have a drop of water all day,” you respond, laughing lightly, “i’m also tired beyond belief, so i’m gonna head to bed. see you all in the morning.” the group wishes you a good night and you head into the house and straight into your room, and opening your phone up to a new text.

“it doesn’t matter who i am. ive seen him with other girls. do you know what he gets up to when you’re not around?”

[kalliyen]

Brewing Romance

Pairing: Diluc x GN!Reader

Featuring: Diluc, Kaeya, Jean

Genre: Fluffff, Barista AU, Modern AU, College AU

Summary: barista au….un lang lol also diluc falls in love at first sight….yeah

Reader’s Pronouns: they/them

Warning: diluc is so down bad, kinda ooc mb…(not really) HES SO FINE WOOF WOOF slight kaebedo implied lawlwlwlwlw

Disclaimer: ⚠️ ONLY A WORK OF FICTION!

i. a change of pace

Diluc Ragnvindr wishes for a change of pace. Something different from his boring dull life as a college student who works part time at a nearby café.

It’s not like he needs the money or anything, his family is quite wealthy, but he decided to work for the experience. Also because his friend, Jean, forced him.

Not really forced him no, more like begged him to help her around the shop because they were very understaffed, and Diluc being the kind stoic soul he is, took pity in his friend and decided to accept her offer.

Unluckily for him, he didn’t know that his brother, Kaeya, also works at the café, if he asked Kaeya why, all he’d respond is with “To scout cute chicks!” But he knows Kaeya was just really ogling the blonde kid with bags in his eyes that sits in the back of the café, he noticed that Kaeya would always volunteer to give the man his order…..

ii. new face ?

It’s like as if the Anemo Archon himself heard his pleas for a new face, because a few days later he’s greeted with someone new.

Not like he recognizes every single costumer that comes and goes, but you stood out to him because damn….you were breathtaking.

When you walked up to the cashier he internally panicked, immediately putting Kaeya in his spot and disturbing his brother from ogling that blonde kid again.

“Hey?!! Bro what the hell was that for?!?!” Kaeya exclaims “Spot me. You take their order and I’ll make it. Alright?” Diluc states

Not getting another word in, and not wanting to question Diluc about his red face for now, he begrudgingly takes your order, still kind of looking at the blonde kid at the back (these brothers are so down bad what the hell 🔥🔥)

Diluc makes your order, still as red as his hair, because you ordered his favorite drink, and Jean noticed that he was making it with a smile on his face. ‘I guess he’s finally gone crazy.’ She thinks to herself.

Diluc hands you your order, looking down a bit, because he swear if he sees your beautiful presence again he might actually just combust.

You notice a ‘help wanted’ poster near the door and decide to ask him about it.

“Hey are you guys still looking for help? Cause I’d love to work part time here, if that’s alright.” You state. And Diluc’s brain actually stumbles into himself, he responds to you with “O-of course! We’d be happy to accept your h-help..You can ask the manager for the application form and she can schedule an interview with you” He finishes, and points to where Jean was.

“Thank you so much! Uhm….Diluc?” You read on his name tag. Taken aback, Diluc replies “O-of course! No problem. Happy to help.”

Kaeya was watching the whole scene from the cashier with a stupid smile on his face, god damn his brother was in for it hard.

iii. ARE YOU UP FOR THE CHALLENGE????? *vine boom*

On the day of your interview with Jean, you decided to dress up nicely and give it all you’ve got, like this is some big corporate job or something.

But hey, to you this was a big interview because god fucking damn did you need some spare cash, you don’t think you can live on processed food for another week even if you had to.

Jean doesn’t beat around the bush and immediately tells you that your hired, saying that you could start tomorrow.

Diluc over hears your interview and smiles to himself, he can finally work with someone he wants too!

iv. cupid works in mysterious ways

Even if you did work together, Diluc unfortunately does not have the same shift as you do. He works the lunch hours from 11 am to 3 pm, while you work from 8 am to 12 noon, which only alots one hour with you everyday, but he tried to make the best of those 60 minutes with you.

Though he was very nervous to approach you at first, he was the one tasked to help you work the coffee machine, and how the workflow goes.

Admittedly, he gets distracted by you sometimes, he just can’t help himself. The way your hair is kept neatly so it doesn’t get it your face, the way the apron hugs you form, making you seem more beautiful than you already were.

It’s not like you were stupid or anything, you weren’t oblivious to the obvious ogling Diluc does whenever he works with you. It brings a wave of heat to your cheeks, because to have such attractive man have eyes for you? You’d almost believe that you were the mc of a fan fiction or something.

Jean obviously noticed the tension you two would emit whenever you worked together, and how Diluc hesitated to greet you goodbye when your shift was over. So she arranged a new schedule for him, to be on the same work shift as you.

They weren’t as understaffed as before, having a good handful of employees that recently applied. Mostly because they wanted to check out the two hot brothers that worked at front. But hey, whatever keeps the business going am I right?

Before Diluc leaves by the end of his shift, double checking if he’s cleaned the machine thoroughly, Jean calls him into her office, Diluc obliges, not thinking much of it.

“Is there a particular reason you called me here Jean?” Diluc asks, while closing the door of her office. “Don’t worry Diluc, it isn’t anything dire. Just a slight change in your work hours.” She says while fixing the papers on her desk.

At this, Diluc’s ears perk up, “My shift? Change? What for?” To be closer with you, he hopes.

“I’ve decided for you to have the same shift as y/n, I sense that you have no opposition to this? Seeing as you enjoy your time on the job whenever they are present.” Jean states like it was to be expected. “Of course, I don’t have any oppositions. You are the manager after all.”

v. latte (he)art

To say you were surprised to see Diluc at work that early the next day was an understatement. You were ecstatic. “Diluc? what are you doing at work so early?” You ask, a smile threatening to form on your lips, trying your hardest to hold yourself back at the sight of him.

“Jean decided to change my shift, so I could work the morning hours, since that’s our busiest time.” And to spend more time with you, Diluc wants to say, but decides against it.

“Really? That’s great!” You start with a smile on your face. “Oh and uhm, I actually really needed your help with something. You know the latte art? Yeah I’m learning to do that now but it’s really hard, Kaeya tried to teach me but he completely gave up, I swear he just works here to ogle that blonde kid at the back”

“Of course I’d help you y/n, it’d be my pleasure.” Diluc says with a smile on his face. He looked very pretty when he smiled, you thought.

You and Diluc spent a few hours and countless cups of coffee, trying to get you to create an actually presentable output. But you just couldn’t seem to get the hang of it.

Profusely apologizing over and over again, But Diluc didn’t seem to mind, having been patient with you this whole time. He decided it was best for you both to have a slight break from the latter art.

But then you felt something warm on your hands, a cup of coffee and Diluc’s warm fingers, seeming to engulf your own.

You looked down at the cup of coffee, and then up at him, noticing that the cup held a cute heart in it, which made your own heart soar with happiness.

“Let’s take a break yeah? We can learn once you’ve collected yourself. Just enjoy this cup I’ve made for you for now.” Diluc hands you the cup, while leaving a loving yet hesitant kiss to your forehead.

———————

gbye i didn’t know how to end this……anyways enjoy 🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪

[angelshimaa]

Hi! So I'm new to this page :) And I have a request please! Ofc do it whenever you're available no pressure. Im not sure if you do comfort. This is pretty In depth so please message me if this makes you uncomfortable.

My brother and my family got into a fight and he decided to leave and go live with our dad WHO ABUSED US. The fight was dumb. And I mean I won't pretend to be hurt he left. Hes abusive as well. He berated me, told everyone in our school about my Anorexia, tells me I'll never be loved, tells me im dumb, etc... I'm a pretty sensitive person. I always like to help when I can and I always offer comfort and advice when someone is struggling I dedicate my life to helping. ive helped him everytime he needed me. But he's never returned the favor. Now he's telling everyone lies about my family, me included. We fought, and im just frustrated that I lost my cool and I didn't just let it slide again. I'm angry about all the things he's saying and that I'm still angry. This is the "I want to throw things against a wall and break them" kind of mad and I'm just ashamed. This isn't like me. I'm usually positive and upbeat and happy. So being this angry is new and I feel like i shouldn't be. I should miss him but I don't.

Do you think you could do a comfort with Kirishima, Amajiki, or shoji? Or whoever you think fits best. I feel guilty and ashamed for how angry I am. Thank you for taking the time to read this. (Also this is a random tidbit I'm very short so I like the huge hugs) i apologize this turned into a vent.

━━ 𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 ;; 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐔

✧ cw :: gn!reader, reader is crying from anger, reader is shorter than kirishima

✧ a/n :: hi my love, i tried my best to write something that would validate your feelings <3 you have every right to feel the way you do; you are so valid. if you're satisfied or not, please do tell me !

“i’m so angry, eijirou.” you whisper, pacing about with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. the amount of anger bubbling up in your blood is incredibly unnatural and your nails dig into the skin of your arms like claws— tearing something apart is all you can think about.

“i know, angel.” kirishima sits on the couch, red eyes focused on you. it constricts his heart to watch you so scattered— such a kind soul so torn over something that wasn't even their fault. he sees the deep creasing of your brows and he hopes he's imagining the way your hands are trembling a little. “talk to me, pretty.”

“i don't know why he'd say all of that about me— what did i ever do to him? why would i let him still have an effect on me?” your lip begins to quiver and kirishima watches his world start to crack in front of him. “this isn't me— i’m so angry, eiji—”

you don't need to say any more for eijirou to get up to engulf you in his arms. he takes you in like there's nowhere else you belong, and the familiar scent of him and the comfort he carries has the lump in your throat thickening uncomfortably.

“feel your anger, baby. feel it all, i’m here to hold you through it,” he whispers, going to kiss the top of your head before he rests his chin on it gently, running his hand up and down your back. you want to buckle into him when you understand how long it's been since you felt so heard, so seen.

you cling to the back of his shirt like a lifeline, hot tears dampening the material covering his chest. the anger feels like a fire being tamed, but the last of its flames hasn't quite been extinguished yet.

“it’s not okay for me to be so angry— i’m supposed to be able to help myself—” your voice is slightly muffled by you holding onto each other so tightly, and eijirou is quick to intercept. he slowly pulls away enough to be able to cup your tear-streaked face with both hands, with his thumbs brushing against your skin— gently as if it were glass— to wipe away your tears.

“i need you to look at me when i say this.” eijirou’s eyes scan your teary ones, making sure you're hearing every single word he says. “if there's anyone who has the right to anger, it's you. you've been dragged through so much, and you are still one of the kindest people i know. so kind and so selfless— people like you don't deserve people like him.”

your breathing is deep and you can barely bring yourself to nod fully at what he's telling you. “he never deserved you missing him anyway, okay?”

kirishima kisses your forehead before he brings you in again to hold you tight, protecting you from whatever he can. the soothing rhythm of his hand moving against your back begins to soothe you a little and you let out a slightly easier breath.

“you’re allowed to be as angry as you need to be, pretty. i’m here to love you through it all.”

you note how he repeats the nickname ‘pretty’ though you feel you're the farthest thing away from it right now. there are times you wish you could see yourself through eijirou’s eyes and find the beauty he speaks so adamantly about, and this is definitely one of them.

what he does show you is how much he cares, how much he loves you by how long he stays right there, just like that for you. kirishima’s presence calms the rage into something manageable, something you no longer have to deal with alone.

and if he's lucky, he hopes you'll never have to deal with it without him again.

✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

He hasn't been himself

What -- we're still in S02E05 Chupacabra, and Daryl gets some stitches (courtesy of you), T-Dog teases you about calling that mangy hick so many pet-names, and you come face to face with your big brother Shane's descent into something that you're afraid of you don't recognize.

Relationships/ is there fluff? -- yes! found-family fluff and slowww-burn Daryl x Reader fluff

Perspective - 2nd you, 3rd Daryl at the end

When - right after Spell your last name, please. when Daryl is getting some medical attention after his very rough, hell of a day

Pronouns - neutral, y'all

TWs - some language, and light discussion of giving sutures (stitches), and Daryl's significant scarring (the result of child abuse) is mentioned

I always do my assigned reading, what chapters will help with context? XD -- all of them muahahahaha Start with souls stripped bare, then the Invisible, tugging strings Part 1 and Part 2, then of course Spell your last name, please.

is there a crappy screenshot of the mangy hick? -- yes, you'll be embarrassed on my behalf.

Masterlist -- Official One here, purely chronological one here :)

Have fun and happy reading!

You

Because Maggie and everyone else but Hershel and Rick are leaving the room, you use your uninjured side to take over maintaining pressure on Daryl's head wound.

That he wanted specifically you to stay made that strange, invisible string on your chest tug more. And that you had to curl your arm gently around him so you could press the rag down properly didn’t escape your notice. Neither was the way his hand just brushed against yours to take over for you.

While you’re waiting for the tugging string to give it a rest, Patricia mumbles to you that she’ll come back in to help clean Daryl’s head once Hershel gives the okay.

“Daryl, is this about what you found?” Rick asks.

“Hell yeah it is.”

More quietly, he wants to know “Would it be alright if Shane and Carol came in, too, or is it better if it’s just Shane?”

You think he means if what Daryl had to tell him was good or bad news regarding Sophia.

“You and Shane seem to be a package deal,” Daryl grunts in response.

“Like a BOGO sale,” is your unhelpful, dumb comment to yourself followed by a more helpful, “Oh snap, doc, his second bag is empty already,” when you see his IV fluids are drained again.

A blunt, “Remove it and bandage him,” answers that. “The wax for the needle point is in my kit.” Mr. Greene’s patience gauge is pointing to the E, that much is plain.

While you’re busy taking out the IV catheter (guess what!—this time you did the venipuncture and IV setup! You can do that now!) and pressing a gauze pad to the site, Rick lets your brother in.

Shane seems kinda terse when he hands over the search map and squats on the little ottoman.

Rick places the map on the bed in front of Daryl, then kneels down to face him.

Before anything is said, Mr. Greene points to the bloodied rag that Daryl is not pressing down like you’d directed. “Are you able to maintain firm, constant pressure, or will Rick have to assist you?”

“I can hold a rag,” he responds back in that…unpleasant way he’s got.

You make a face at him. Rudeness is bad enough, but 1.) rudeness to the host, 2.) to the host who’s offering medical care, and 3.) whose horse he’d stolen borrowed without asking and now lost, and 4.) who is about to teach you stitching, and 5.) was using/had used a ton of his own stock of medical supplies? Who 6.) also just lost a man he considered family because of helping your group, like dude?

Daryl. Use a tablespoon of that gentleness you got in there.

Hershel looks at you, and you hope he sees the apology in your eyes.

“Y/N, if you’re going to observe,” he begins, pulling the towel off Daryl’s back and putting it aside. “Wash your hands again with me in the chlorhexidine solution and position yourself on this edge of the bed, there.”

It sucks that you’re all out of gloves. You’ll have to add that to the supply list, along with IV fluid if possible. Fortunately, there was enough chlorhexidine as well as iodine to sanitize, plus the leftover doxycycline but don’t get you started on how that’s unsafe antibiotic use, there’s only so much you can do.

Under his breath, Hershel explains, “We used the clamp and forceps during the boy’s emergency, but they aren’t sterilized. Stitches are best done with a clamp, but as you can see, it will be just our fingers today.”

Thankfully, you have clamps in the med-bag, you’ll donate one.

“Shane, in the med bag, there's a small bag with blue stripes, in it are two clamps,” you call over. “Grab one for me?”

“Swirl it in the solution first,” Mr. Greene requests. “Y/N, did you observe the two times you were stitched, and when Theodore had his?”

“Not the first time.” You shake your head. “But I did watch when Teddy got his, when you did Carl’s, and when Miss Patricia redid mine earlier.”

“She what?” your brother cuts in.

You idiot, Y/N.

“Y/N, what happened that you got stitched up again?”

You’d not told him on purpose. It’s not like you did anything wrong in not telling him, but you immediately feel overheated and guilty as if you had.

You reach out to accept the clamp from him. “Yeah, she checked them earlier,” you do your best to reply in a way that would imply it as being a routine course of action. That didn't count as a lie, right?

Mr. Greene to the rescue: “Y/N, watch what I do, then copy it on your own when I say. I’ll guide you along.” He holds up a small packet. “This is called a swaged needle. There's no eye, the thread is part of the needle. An ordinary straight needle can be used, likewise regular thread, in an emergency, but ideally a curved and swaged is best for obvious reasons. Cleanliness would be a concern, for one.” He opens the packet, points to Daryl’s side.

You sit where he asks and look at Daryl’s wound.

Hershel continues: “We’ll do a simple continuous stitch, the pattern is straightforward. If Daryl pops them, then I suppose you’ll learn how to do interrupted suturing. It’s time-consuming, but more secure.”

That your eyes travel down Daryl’s back again isn’t intentional, but there they get stuck, the same way your eyes had gotten stuck staring at it earlier when you’d helped remove his shirt.

The poor man.

What you thought you saw earlier, back at the house, was correct. Scars. Very big ones.

It looks like the tattoos he’s got on his upper back are partially to cover/distract from some of them on the more visible places up near his shoulders and neck.

A lot more money for a lot more ink would’ve been needed to try concealing the rest of what that person did, those scars were very thick and wide. And no, an accident would not have made such specific scarring, unfortunately, how those got there had to have been deliberate. Scattered all around were cigarette burns, too, some in patterns.

Statistically, it was probably a parent or parental figure.

Mr. Greene’s hand passes over your line of vision as he calls your name. You blink out of it, see his finger wag as if to say ‘don’t look at them anymore.’

After wiping your eyes with your forearm so as to not contaminate your hands, he points to the spot and nods once. “Daryl, I’m going to begin. It will pinch, then burn. Stay still.”

You cringe as the needle goes in. The invisible string tugs when you see Daryl’s breathing pattern hitch and his muscles clench in discomfort. Your stomach tells your eyes to look away when the skin tugs as the needle exits and the thread is lightly pulled.

“Then use the tool to gently bring it across like so,” Mr. Greene murmurs, “going slowly with the thread.” He does two more, then pauses. “Alright, now take over.”

Already?

“Rest in peace, bud,” you joke, whether to ease Daryl or yourself. It’s an insane blessing you have the doxycycline, is all you’re saying.

Slowly you thread the needle, as smoothly as you can. You use a low angle to pull it all through and gently hold the skin down to reduce how much it pulls…oh my gosh, you’re giving sutures right now. “You have my leave to cuss me out if it’s hurtin’ too bad.”

“Ain’t nothing.”

“There’s that phrase, dude,” you quietly tease, focused on closing the wound and Mr. Greene’s silent guidance.

Daryl must be doing okay (or is toughing it out like a champ), because he starts to talk to Rick. “Right around here is where I saw the doll, see where the creek bends there?”

“Was it on top of the ridge, or down by the creekbed?”

“Creekbed, right near a waterfall. Spotted it from up top.”

“Was there a little camp or any tracks?”

“None that I saw. My guess is she was thirsty, but got her feet stuck in the mud and needed both hands to get out. Or somethin’ made her run again.” He stops pressing the rags to his head to look at the bleeding for a quick second.

Shane speaks up. “You run into any walkers by that spot there?”

“Yeah.”

“How many.” Not really a question.

You lose your focus for a moment, hearing his tone and being disappointed and a little frightened by it, so you pause the suturing. Breathe slowly and bite your tongue.

“Why? They friends of yours?” Daryl tosses at him, completely unphased even if dickish. You’re on his side with this one. “They wouldn’t have been a problem if I wasn’t stuck on my back with a bolt stickin’ out of me.”

Shane raises his eyebrows as if to say “See? Told you,” then licks his teeth but doesn’t say anything other than: “Yeah, so I just wanna be realistic about this. Think we all do.”

“Daryl, I’m all ears,” jumps in Rick, ever the decent human being diplomat. “Can you tell us more?”

Mr. Greene taps you and directs you to get back to it.

Daryl tells Rick, “I’m thinkin’ the doll flowed downstream a ways after the rains yesterday, see the area closer to the road, there? I’d check around there.”

“I’ll take some people there tomorrow.”

“Not now?”

“Sun’s going down.”

Without looking up as you resume your work, you know Daryl will understand. His own words were 'Out in the dark’s no good.'

Rick then points to the map. “This spot here?”

Daryl hums in agreement and nods at wherever he’d showed him. “She must have dropped it crossin’ there somewhere.”

Rick looks back at your older brother and tells him “Cuts the grid almost in half,” as if it were a plea.

And just as you and Mr. Greene finish stitching him back up, Daryl grates in the most unattractive way possible, “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

Rick whips out his skill at de-escalation again. As poor Hershel has to quickly remind you to snip the suture from remaining thread in the packet (you legit forgot, so he does it for you), Rick turns the focus on the patient. “How’s he looking?”

“I had no idea we’d be going through the antibiotics so quickly.”

Fair enough.

Hershel then washes his hands again, so you do the same. “Any idea what happened to my horse?” he then states more than questions, in the way you might confront a teenager who left their dirty clothes on the kitchen floor after sports practice.

And God save him, that mangy hick has no shame. Caught red-handed, he still yips like a grumpy little coonhound, “Yeah, the one who almost killed me? If it’s smart, it left the country.”

You either just huffed, tutted, scoffed, groaned, or made all four at once. RIP invisible, tugging string.

Mr. Greene’s response implies his generosity, which makes you feel shame on Daryl’s behalf all the more. “We call that one Nelly. As in Nervous Nelly. I could have told you she’d throw you if you’d bothered to ask.”

Your friend says nothing back. He stays quiet, and simply twists onto his back and starts spacing out at the ceiling, pressing the rag to his head and looking as if he feels very small and very tired.

His eyes close—and you remember that he’s just been through hell and back. He almost died how many times today?

As annoyed and on-guard as he is, Mr. Greene was offering him due kindness and patience when he didn’t get overly short with him.

Still, the way the older gentleman next chides in the most graciously Southern way possible, “It’s a wonder you people have survived this long,” strikes you as having such dry comedic timing that now you’re the only one cracking up in a room full of uncomfortable people.

It doesn’t stay full of uncomfortable people for long; Shane and Rick see themselves out.

When the door opens, you spot Lori in her worried-position (on the floor with her knees curled toward her chest). As she leaps up from the floor to see Rick, you give her a little wave before the door is once more shut.

Quiet and stillness passes over the room. You breathe out. Breathe in.

Okay, it's probably just about time to clean up and bandage Daryl’s head.

You turn to see him still laying there on his back, eyes still closed. By the looks of it, he wanted to cover up; he’s pulled the side of the quilt over his stomach. You take the towel you’d used to give him some modesty earlier and gently drape it over his exposed abdomen.

But your big brother’s voice sounds through the door before you can do anything else.

The beginning of whatever he said, you don’t catch, but it doesn’t matter. You hear enough. “…Hershel on this one. Can’t keep goin’ out there, not after this.”

Rick is saying something back, but his voice is softer and you can’t make out as much of it. “Daryl” “risked,” and “first, hard evidence” gives you the gist, as does Shane’s response to him:

“That’s one way to look at it. Way I see it, Daryl almost died today for a doll.”

“Yeah, I know the way you see it.” Rick’s footsteps then fade down the hall.

On the other side of the door, your pulse thumps in your ears. Your breathing is faster than it should be.

Shaney still has that little girl written off?

“Y/N,” Mr Greene calls from the bedside.

Before you calm yourself down enough to turn to help Hershel, your brother starts talking again.

He’s whispering, but it’s still recognizable enough that you hear every word. “I’m not out to be a hard case, just bein’ realistic. He’s just gotta start making the tough calls.”

Shane's speaking to Lori, then?

His footsteps are moving down the hall, and you quietly open the door in time to hear him mutter, “You know I’m right.”

Door now open, your fist grips the knob and doesn’t let go.

“I may not agree with all his choices, but I respect him,” Lori states.

With all she's got going on, she shouldn’t have to deal with how much Shane has changed for the worse. In fact, in your gut you don't want your brother even near her, now that you know they’d been intimate. And that she’s pregnant…

You miss her first few words, but do hear “Your way isn’t harder, it’s…it’s the easiest thing in the world to cut our losses and to not help. You keep telling yourself you’re making the tough calls, you’re really just trying to justif—”

He cuts her off by mumbling, “—The only thing I care about now in this world is Y/N, you and Carl. So I, apologize if I appear to be insensitive to the needs of others, but see, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep the three of you safe.”

His words aren't a put-on, that's what alarms you. You know what smooth or schmoozy Shane sounds like; but that there was genuine.

Lori calmly shakes her head and walks toward him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Even abandoning a lost child?” she prompts. “Really?”

She sounds like she expects Shane to snap out of it and think better on it. To remember his goodness.

But.

To the woman that his best friend since childhood married, and in the context of not caring about a missing, abused child, your brother instead tilts his head and offers Lori a small grin.

He’s…he just flirted with her.

Lori takes a step back.

Her back tightens, her head bows slightly. “My son and I are not your problem anymore. Or your excuse." She turns away. "As for Y/N, they’d be horrified to hear y—” she cuts off as you loose your grip on the doorknob, making noise, causing her to finally notice you standing there.

“You’re right, Lore, they would be,” you drawl, voice soft. “Sh-Shane, get out.”

Whatever he starts responding with, you don’t give a fuck, your softness vanishes as you growl back, “Get. Out.”

You link your good arm into Lori’s and take her down the hall to Carl’s room. She stops you from plowing through the door by holding you by the waist. You take a moment, turn toward her.

She looks you in the eyes and shakes her head, silently mouthing “Please.”

“I won’t,” you mouth back. Still, under your breath, you do stress “B-but he, he needs a leash. Rick can leash him.”

She looks into your eyes but says nothing back.

As soon as the door is open, your words charge out, “Ricky, Shane needs—

“—Mom! Y/N! Mr. Dixon found Sophia’s doll! The one Eliza gave her!” interrupts Carl, (crying and) grinning so wide that your cheeks are getting sore just looking at it.

You take in the room.

Carol and T-Dog are there along with Rick. Lori goes to her son, takes his hands and kisses them, Beth scoots in behind you holding three glasses of water.

Seeing your nephew helps you remember yourself, and you begin to smile back. Your lip wobbles. “He found her doll, little dude.”

Some tears decide to fall when you take a moment and lean against the wall.

Shane is scaring you.

You are frightened of your own brother.

And no, it's not just how he's been after Otis got killed, he hasn’t been himself. He’s scaring Lori, you saw it just now—and this is before he even knows about the new baby, oh my God how are you going to fix this? God, Shane doesn’t even care—doesn’t understand—that a clear sign of Sophia was found today.

And, and he doesn’t care about anyone else here, either, not even about Rick? “The only thing I care about in this world is Y/N, you and Carl.”

If that was really just him trying to flirt or whatever, you aren’t sure whether you’re more disgusted that he claimed to not care about jack-shit else to do it, or that he was saying something that awful not only to flirt but to flirt with a married woman. His best friend’s wife.

That you’re at Rick’s side and murmuring low, “Shane’s a problem,” doesn’t register in your head until he’s replying with what’s pretty much a platitude: “He’ll see reason.”

Even coming from Rick, it doesn’t comfort you.

“But how to we fix it?” you whisper. “Ricky, it’s like I can’t see him anymore. I’m gettin' scared of h—” you stop what you’re saying, a little alarmed that you just started to confess it out loud.

Rick is quiet.

“He hasn’t been himself,” he admits.

Lori’s whispering cuts in, “Honey, w-what are you two talking about?”

You figure she’s scared that you’re telling Rick more than is your business, so you subtly shake your head, then ask “Lore, have you noticed Shane ain’t been himself?”

The expression on her face is controlled. “He hasn’t been.” And she turns to sit back down beside her son and takes one of his hands into hers.

Rick rubs your arm a few times, and nothing else is spoken.

Whatever, you need to get back.

You’re supposed to be helping patch Daryl up, not hiding moping in here like some idiot bitch.

Cursing yourself that not only did you admit to being scared of your brother, but that you’re scared at the possibility he’s still in the hallway, you hold your injured side to lessen the pain when you bend down to peck a kiss on Carl’s forehead. “I’m headin’ off, baby, to help with Mr. Dixon,” you mumble in goodbye.

“Wait, Y/N.”

You turn back around to see Carl giving you his—sneaky grin? Why, what’s he about to rag you about? “Mr. Douglas told me you called Daryl ‘baby’ like a hundred times after he fainted.”

“That ain’t true,” T-Dog cuts in. “Y/N, I’m sorry, he’s mistaken.” He turns to Carl.

Wait up, T-Dog’s doing his pout thing he does before teasing somebo—

“First off, Y/N was at it before he even passed out.”

*sigh*

“And it wasn’t just ‘baby’, it was also ‘honey’, ‘sweetheart’ and ‘sugar.’ Oh yeah, and ‘mangy hick,’ gotta admit that one threw me.” He makes a particularly wide smile in your direction. “Can’t remember if they also called him ‘darlin’ or not, though.”

“However many times Y/N called him a sweet name, Mr. Dixon deserved every one and more,” Carol softly tells the room.

As for you, you must feel lighter, because now you’re smiling, too.

What's better, you’ve thought of a way you’ll feel safe comfortable if Shane’s still in the hallway (that won’t include taking Rick, because you’re pretty sure Lori needs him to feel safe comfortable right now).

“Theodore, will you walk me back to darlin’ baby sugar sweetheart Daryl’s room, please?”

“Walk you a whole six yards down the hall?”

“Please," you ask him more urgently than you'd intended.

He might could've noticed, because he quickly stands and goes to the door with you. "I'ma charge you for this, though."

"Naturally, how many of my jewels will it take?" you joke.

"You gotta call him 'mangy' again for me."

You snort so hard it makes your new stitches hurt. That's the easiest possible exchange he could've made. "Deal."

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

Him

When he heard from outside the door their soft, “Thank you, Teddy,” his muscles relax again.

He’d been worried. Last thing he knew, Shane must’ve been saying some bullshit, ’cause Y/N had dead-ass growled at him to “Get. Out.”

After two knocks, a pause, and a “Daryl, it’s me,” he realizes he’s gotta call back, “You’re good,” so they’d come in the room. Usually people knock and just bust in, it was real nice to have someone wait until he said it was cool.

He’s damn relieved they’re back and doing okay. Other than worried about whatever crap their brother was slinging around them, he’d felt…small, and, and naked without them in there. Now that they’re back, he feels safe, like he’s got clothes on again.

It’s the total opposite of earlier that morning, when he’d felt like Y/N had seen too much of him, and him too much of them. Didn’t feel like that no more.

“Well, you’re still lookin’ nice and mangy, so I guess I haven’t missed much,” his friend jokes, then shuts the door behind them.

Why did they just make a face to whoever was out in the hallway?

“Where’d Mr. Greene go?”

Daryl grunts, unsure.

Y/N sinks into the little footrest by the window. “We’ll get you some dinner in about an hour, okay, sugar?”

Another pet name, another weird feeling in his stomach and chest.

His friend stares out the window and massages their shoulder and neck. “Oh, are you thirsty?”

That he can answer. “The opposite.”

“Ah, let me help you get up—wait, maybe let’s wait for Patricia or the doc to get back, just in case. Can you hold it?”

He just grumbles back. Ain’t like he’s two years old, of course he can hold it. "What's the deal with your brother? Heard him mouthing off."

"Yeah. He, um, he ain't been himself." Y/N grimaces as if there was a bad taste in their mouth, then covers their face, sighs, and changes the subject. “Should we might call today ‘rough,’ or pick a different adjective?”

No idea. Today was…“Today was somethin’ else.”

“Whoa, we’re going hardcore.”

He starts to crack up, which is how he learns that now, laughing makes his head and side ache.

“Crackin' up hurt, didn’t it?” they guess correctly.

A grunt passes as his “yes.”

His friend breathes in slowly, out just as slow. “When you’re up and at ’em again, I’m taking you with me to go light all the candles at that little church to help thank the heavens you got home alive.”

…he feels all warm and can hear his pulse again, what gives? Like, it’s just that he’d imagined Y/N talking about his coming “home” safe, it’s just weird it’s coming up again in real life. Not a bad weird, but still.

“Well,” they scrunch their nose and stare into space, “‘home’ might be different than the usual definition, but you know what I mean. You got back alive to us after all that, it’s—I dunno, God’s got plans for you yet, dude.”

Hadn’t had a friend say stuff like that to him before, so he just lays there like a beanbag.

Y/N is still still staring into space. “And like, all afternoon I had this tense…dread, that you were hurt. Kept explainin' it away, with a quick prayer just in case.” A chuckle. “We’ll bring Carol and Sophia with us when we go light those candles, deal?” Then they give him a look he can’t translate. “Right-o, bud, let me see that side of yours, I wanna admire my handiwork.”

Standing up with a wince, they walk to him. When he begins to slowly twist back onto his side, they stop him and tell him to stay comfortable. His stomach gets all funny again when he partly pulls aside the towel covering his abdomen and his friend gets close.

Y/N starts to put their hip on the bed, then pauses. “Does it hurt you when the bed jostles, baby?”

His stomach goes all funny again. He’s, um, he’s hungry… “You’re good.”

And not a moment after sitting on the bed and exhaling does Y/N groan and start to jabber, “Oh, Moses, I just did it again, look how red you got. Tell me, did you feel redder when you knew how many of us were crowded around you like seagulls on french fry, or when I kept callin’ you pet names? T-Dog’s been poking fun at me for it.”

He…grunts again. It’s, um, he isn’t really sure what else to do, this isn’t a conversation he knows how to tackle. Hadn’t had a friend who called him a ton of pet-names while taking care of him after he’d pin-balled down a ridge twice and got a bolt lodged in his side and fought off two zombie bastards after dreaming up a conversation with Y/N and Merle.

Now Y/N is looking at him in the way they usually look at Glenn before they goof off together. “Wanna compare yours and mine right quick before they get back?”

Well, he hums this time instead of grunts, so that counts as conversation.

“Carl and I joked that we have temporary, sewn-in friendship bracelets. You’re in the club now, too, welcome!” They lift their shirt slowly, blocking the rest of their belly with their arm. Their stitches are up by their ribs aaaaaannd why are Daryl's goddamn cheeks feeling hot again?

“We both have white nylon thread. Carl got blue, though, real fancy,” Y/N says, cute smile on their face.

“He showed me his when I talked to him last night, actually.”

With a giggle, they nod. “Of course he did.”

The front door to the house opens, and the muffled voices of Dr. Farmer and Patricia sound outside the closed bedroom door.

Y/N looks back and forth from their stitches to his, then mumble to themself, “Miss Patricia definitely gave me a different stitch, check out the variations.”

Daryl couldn’t tell from the angle he was in, to be honest, but…“Yeah, mine are way better.”

Y/N deserves a compliment. And, dunno, he’s not an expert, but his side is probably sewed together nice. It’s not like it's still bleeding, right?

Y/N almost misses it. “Hey, the stitches Patricia gave me are grea—ohh.” Their face lights up, and they bop him on the arm. “Aww!”

Daryl feels the corners of his mouth raise. His shoulders relax.

Dr. Farmer Mr. Greene calls from the hall, “I’m opening the door,” and finally walks back in with Patricia.

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

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[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

It’s important that the first revelation of Nissa Nissa is accompanied by some level of skepticism from Salladhor Saan and aversion on Davos’ part. It doesn’t sound right that Azor Ahai chose to sacrifice his wife for a magic sword. It shouldn’t sound right.

“A hundred days and a hundred nights he labored on the third blade, and as it glowed white-hot in the sacred fires, he summoned his wife. ‘Nissa Nissa,’ he said to her, for that was her name, ‘bare your breast, and know that I love you best of all that is in this world.’ She did this thing, why I cannot say, and Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel. Such is the tale of the forging of Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes.

“Now do you see my meaning? Be glad that it is just a burnt sword that His Grace pulled from that fire. Too much light can hurt the eyes, my friend, and fire burns.” Salladhor Saan finished the last grape and smacked his lips. “When do you think the king will bid us sail, good ser?”

[…] A true sword of fire, now, that would be a wonder to behold. Yet at such a cost … When he thought of Nissa Nissa, it was his own Marya he pictured, a good-natured plump woman with sagging breasts and a kindly smile, the best woman in the world. He tried to picture himself driving a sword through her, and shuddered. I am not made of the stuff of heroes, he decided. If that was the price of a magic sword, it was more than he cared to pay.

Not only does it not make sense that Nissa Nissa would agree to her husband’s request, it’s also telling how Salladhor Saan expresses relief in knowing that King Stannis didn’t actually forge Lightbringer. Because forging Lightbringer means human sacrifice. And why should one be deprived of their life, even if it’s for a magic sword? Davos is very right to be creeped out by it.

The theme of sacrifice shows up quite a bit in ASOIAF and Davos I isn’t the first or last time. The very first chapter in the series, Bran I, tackles this idea with Jon and the direwolves.

“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him call Father that, so formal. Bran looked at him with desperate hope. “There are five pups,” he told Father. “Three male, two female.”

“What of it, Jon?”

“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”

Bran saw his father’s face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow, the name that custom decreed be given to all those in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own.

Their father understood as well. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” he asked softly.

“The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. “I am no Stark, Father.”

Jon, though he may desperately desire to have his own piece of magic, would not sacrifice his siblings for it. He wouldn’t dare to deprave the girls, Arya and Sansa, of their own magic even when it might be very easy to do so. This is a pretty stark contrast (pun intended) to Azor Ahai and his Nissa Nissa. Azor Ahai’s first line of thought was to sacrifice his wife whereas Jon’s was to sacrifice himself. Sure Azor Ahai got his magic sword, but Jon’s self-sacrifice is not in vain either because he later earns his own wolf, who turns out to be even more special than the rest in the pack.

Bran IV kind of alludes to the idea of self sacrifice through Old Nan’s retelling of the last hero:

So as cold and death filled the earth, the last hero determined to seek out the children, in the hopes that their ancient magics could win back what the armies of men had lost. He set out into the dead lands with a sword, a horse, a dog, and a dozen companions. For years he searched, until he despaired of ever finding the children of the forest in their secret cities. One by one his friends died, and his horse, and finally even his dog, and his sword froze so hard the blade snapped when he tried to use it. And the Others smelled the hot blood in him, and came silent on his trail, stalking him with packs of pale white spiders big as hounds—”

Though the one we know is called the “last hero”, notice that it’s not a title but a mere descriptor; there were many heroes before him who died and he was the last one standing. There is a human toll in this legend, but it’s implied to be self sacrifice. It’s also interesting that though there is mention of a blade, it is the children of the forest’s magic that is key. This does kind of bleed into what we know about the Night’s Watch and its relation to the long night. The Night’s Watch victory was a group effort, rather than the actions of any one man.

We have several legends surrounding the long night that work, but only one involves the cost of sacrificing someone else (that we know of). This might be where GRRM is headed with Stannis and his creation of Lightbringer. Sure Azor Ahai did get his magic sword, but it doesn’t negate the steep human cost. GRRM has lowkey confirmed that Stannis is sure to burn Shireen. And rather than this sacrifice not working, I think it’s more likely that it does work. Stannis does indeed create the flaming sword. But this will be directly weighed by other (self) sacrifices made for the same purpose. Stannis’ sacrifice of his daughter won’t work any better than other characters who choose to sacrifice themselves even when knowing that they are not going to go down as individual legends; I think Jon Snow will once again be the prime example of this, as he has already resigned himself to being a shadow in history despite initially wanting the opposite. Maester Aemon was right in saying that

[…] all deceive ourselves, when we want to believe. Melisandre most of all, I think. The sword is wrong, she has to know that … light without heat … an empty glamor … the sword is wrong, and the false light can only lead us deeper into darkness, Sam

The sword is wrong. Azor Ahai is NOT one to be emulated. Rather, he should be a cautionary tale. He is not any more special for his sacrifice than what the last hero or the men of the Night’s Watch did, even though we know his name but don’t know theirs. GRRM answered the question regarding sacrifice before he even posed it. To make someone else pay the price is flat out wrong. The only true and worthy sacrifice is really that of the self.

[juggalomary]

She’s here and just sent off to my beta reader (ugh thank you again). I’m excited to announce the unbetaed "of scars and silence"

content warming! violence, mcd (technically), described injury ig? Enjoy

“John Elias Mactavish was an honored soldier and a loving uncle. He did not however live long enough to become a husband, father or grandfather. He had the ability to light up a room, literally and figuratively, and had never failed to get every possible man out of any situation. You may not know him as a soldier, but I did, and so did the men sitting in the place of his parents. That fireball of a man was once one of my closest friends. I wish him the best in whatever death may bring.”

Gaz has shed a tear, and Price is smiling reassuringly and sadly at once. Ghost clears his throat and blinks back a single tear. Losing comrades was the sad truth about the military. He watched his best men get gunned down and there was nothing he could’ve done. This was different.

Ghost had watched, and had seen Price get hit. He could’ve made a shot, but they were just moving too much to risk it. He attempted to go over to them, but a Konnie got a hit onto his temple, knocking his steps to a halt. He felt a single wave of darkness fly over his vision and leave, simultaneously with a gunshot. The thunk of the body on the floor was met by silence as he regained himself.

Johnny, lying dead on the concrete, active bomb being defused, no Makarov. He doesn’t remember shouting out to him, but apparently it happened. There was an exit wound. There was an entrance wound. There was no shot of him getting up.

Price and Gaz had the bomb defused by the time the initial shock was wearing down. His pulse was zero, his breath was zero. Everything was zero.

Soap was dead. He couldn’t come back. Goddamit ghost still had the the killing bullet in a box in his room. He didn’t actually admit that to anyone.

His ashes (most, soaps sisters and the task force, as stated in his will, were to receive some) were spread in the wind and water off the Scottish coast. His dog tags are worn by Mari Finch-Mactavish, his Irish twin.

The world kept revolving after his death. Makarov's heart is still beating after his death, not for long, if Price had something to do with this.

x/x

Waking up from a coma is a jarring experience, especially when you wake up with a massive blind spot in your left eye, and extremely obnoxious tinnitus in your ear.

As far as he can remember he shouldn’t be awake. A loud noise, likely a gunshot was his last sensation he can remember. He can’t remember much else. That seems like an issue for a later moment, he was tired.

He dreamed for the first time since being shot that night. He dreamed of the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse. Conquest, a blonde woman, late thirties, strong souled and confident. She was his adoptive mother, after his parents had left. War, a tall man with a hat and mutton chops, he spoke rough but cared deeply. In this he was a father, his source of advice. Hunger was a tall, young, lanky man, a cap with some flag sat atop his head. A brother and a friend, a lover, but not to him. He could make any man, even the strongest yearn, hunger, and beg, for his approval, but John (?) didn’t need to beg, he already had it.

Finally, if not the most important but the most scary was death. 6’4, shoulders wide as mountains. His muscles had to have been the size of his head. He wore a human skull across his face. He was feared by most, not his 3 other horsemen, not soap (?), but everyone else. He told jokes, he showed emotion, he smoke cigarettes as well as vaped, at least on the field. He would sneak onto the roof with john and watch as mars, named after the god of war, aligned with earth.

These horsemen were familiar. The dream brought him comfort in times of terror.

He woke up officially to a nurse changing a bandage on his head. An IV was jammed into his hand and his arm was in a sling. His whole head hurt, waking up from such an experience like this one, this dream was bound to give him a headache. The nurse walks in front of him, he only knows this when she walks around to his right and notices his stare.

He can hear what she says but she does say something. Then out of nowhere a man guarded by two burly armed men and a doctor.

“Good morning six. I hope you can hear me. We will get you a hearing aid soon. We’re wishing you a speedy recovery.” The man spoke with a thick accent, Russian likely. He didn’t know who he was, he knew he could barely hear him and couldn’t see his right side.

“Thank-“ he was hit hard across the face. He hadn’t done anything yet to deserve it.

“The task force is not to speak unless asked a direct question. You will learn over time.” And with that he's gone as quickly as he appeared.

He, who was referred to as six, which seems dehumanizing, was left to think.

He had to think about this task force. How was he qualified? Is this military? Is he military? He was six, so who were the other five? Who is soap, and why dies he refer to himself as it.

x/x

The nurses came in once every hour and a half. He only had a tv with Russian sitcoms playing. The nurse would chuckle, check and change his IV, every 3 nurses they would feed him through a tube in his nose.

That tube itself was a problem, he would throw it up nearly every night. And then gag and tear up when they put a new one in. He stopped being audible when he received a clean cut across his collarbone.

The injuries received after he got there just added onto a list of things wrong. The most notable ones include, puncture of the frontal lobe, entrance and exit wounds, deafness (cured by aids), complete blindness in his left eye, titanium plate in his head, and a shattered collarbone.

He quickly realized that those were just the things he was told because they were operated on. He had a vertical scar across his forehead, eye, and cheek. These cosmetic things did not bother him because he was not allowed to look.

Six was released into light training after about a month of recovery in the hospital. By this point he was completely silent, never asked questions so he never spoke. In light training he met another guy, one who used bsl, which six understood without ever learning. He learned he was called eight and had a steel rod in both his legs.

These two were only one apart in formation so they were also one room apart. Eight was ever the luckier of the two, knowing he was in the British Royal Navy, but had his legs shattered with an ied in Kyrzakhstan.

Six tried to remember but was only met by the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Death called him Johnny, sounding increasingly stressed and worried with each call until he was screeching in agony. He disliked dreams with death.

Still that man, death himself must’ve been important if his damaged mind remembered him. The other horsemen were there often enough that he didn’t fear sleep. Only one actually riding a horse, which was famine, on strangely enough, a chestnut thoroughbred racehorse. He would pet and brush this horse. When he showed up in dream he’d know it’d be a full night's sleep.

[sheabuttahwrites]

in the Morning

story masterlist Shea Buttah Bakery Masterlist

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sounds// Peabo Bryson - Feel The Fire, Isley Brothers - Spend the Night (Ce Soir), The O'Jays - Forever Mine

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IV.

“Oh, shit. What’s up?” He smiled back and it was even more killer in person. Especially with the surprise of gleaming gold fangs and the matching slugs I could see peeking from behind his bottom lip. I had to remind myself to breathe. “You came.”

“I told you I was on the way.”

“Nah, I thought you was fucking with me.” Laughter took over the conversation as he opened the door a bit wider, stepping aside. “Come on in.”

Hell, I could barely believe I’d shown up myself. I had never really been shy, but he’d brought a boldness out of me that even I hadn’t seen.

When I passed him, I noticed that he was still significantly taller than me in four inch heels. Damn. Not like I wasn't overdue for a climbing lesson anyway. The scent of his cologne was also quite alluring. The woody, smoky fragrance pervaded my senses, warming all the spots that shot had missed. Of course he would smell just as good as he looked. He may not have believed I would be there tonight, but he had damn sure been prepared. 

“I can take your jacket.” 

“Oh, sure.” I went to slip it from my shoulders, but he circled behind me and took the collar into his hands. 

“Here, I got you.” 

Taken aback by his unexpected chivalry, I was stuck watching him walk back to the closet to carefully put it away. 

“This is dope. The gold on here go crazy.”

“Right? I thought the same thing. Had to have it.”

“Good choice.” He grinned as he strolled back over to me. “I like your whole get-up, though. You look good, girl.” The intensity he radiated in person was unreal. His blinding smile. Those piercing brown eyes. The once-over he gave me felt like he was sexing me up already. 

Of course, I was a flustered mess. “Thank you.”

“What’s in the bag?”

I held up my bottle for him to see. “Wine. Actually, could I put it in your fridge?”

“Yeah.” He reached for it, so I gave it to him. Then he nodded to the left. “This way.” 

We left the foyer and I followed him past a gorgeous living area, subtly admiring my surroundings. The height of the ceilings had caught my attention right away. All of it was stunning. Far from the bare walls, futon, and flat screens I had half expected. Off white walls and dark wood floors made up the most of it, but the decor was so sophisticated and refined. I’d already clocked a painting and coffee table that I wanted for myself. I could tell it had been carefully curated. I should've known he would give nothing less. We walked through an arched doorway into a kitchen that made me feel like cooking for some strange reason. Just like everything else I’d seen, it looked like something from a magazine. Shades of gray, black, white and green complemented each other well among all the satiny stainless steel. There were even fresh tulips sitting in the middle of the island. I was giving one of them a smell when he came over, leaning up against the marble counter with me. 

“I put it in the freezer for you.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” Having to look up was already doing something different for me, but the way he was smiling down at me made it so much worse. Prolonged eye contact was his thing, I’d already gathered. It felt like he was staring into my soul. Whew! “I’m glad you came.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Not every day something this fine just lands on your doorstep.”

My head dropped into a faint laugh. “Baby, you ain't gotta butter me up. I’m already here.”

“I ain't tryna do nothing of the sort. I meant what I said.”

“Ok. So, you just be up in here by yourself?”

“Most of the time, yeah.”

I smacked my lips, less than convinced. “Yeah, aight.”

“You a trip,” he chuckled.

“Nah, you the one.”

“How?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” I said, grinning as I waved him off. 

“I got no reason to lie, mama. Like you said, you already here.” He wet his bottom lip before moving his eyes down my body once more. I shuddered. “I really don’t be having company like that, though. I know it might not seem like it, but I’m usually a pretty private person. I don’t like too many people in my business.”

“So, why you breaking all your rules for me then?”

“I don’t know…” He leaned a little closer. “Just something about you.” 

I rolled my eyes through the inevitable smile that followed his and that sly admission. “You know what, I know I just gave it to you to put away, but could I pour myself a glass?”

“Oh, yeah. Fasho.” He walked back over to the freezer and pulled out my bottle. Then he went to a cabinet for a wine glass before taking an electric corkscrew from a drawer. Once the bottle was open, he stepped back, presenting it all to me with an outstretched hand. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

I poured myself a big glass, just low enough to prevent any spills while I walked.

“You only brought one glass. You don't want any?” 

“Nah. I’m more of a Hennessy man, myself.”

“Aah, ok.”

“I can put it back for you, though.”

“I think I’ma just keep it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, this is good enough.”

“Aight.” He reclaimed his position at the island. “So, um, I feel like you breaking some of your rules for me, too.” 

“…Maybe,” I said, after finishing a big sip. 

“How you get so brave?”

I frowned. “Why you saying that like you about to chop me up and plaster me into your walls?”

“Damn, girl.” I cracked at the sudden shock that appeared on his face and we laughed so hard. “I’m just saying. You know women ain’t safe out here. Especially Black women.”

“Yeah, my girl wanted me to stay home real bad. But I don't know. Sometimes you just gotta take a chance. Plus, you didn't give me serial killer vibes. Didn’t see a windowless van on the premises either, sooo…”

His smile was beaming as we shared another laugh. “You funny.”

I shrugged a shoulder, preparing for my next sip. “So I’ve been told.”

He waited for me to finish before he motioned his head toward where we had just come from. “Come on.” Then he turned to walk off, and, once again, I followed. 

“And, anyway, for all you know, I could be crazy.”

Without hesitation, he replied, “Oh, I can take you.”

I gasped in false disbelief. “Excuse you. I could have weapons of mass destruction.”

“What? Like a chainsaw?” 

He glanced back at me as we neared the stairs and I busted out laughing. “Now that wasn't even me. My girl put that one in my head.”

“What she think, I’m Leatherface?”

“Shit, you never know nowadays.”

“You ‘bout right. But you can let her know you in good hands.”

“I figured as much.”

He smiled, stopping at the stairs. “After you,” he said, holding his arm out for me to step ahead of him.  

After giving him my bottle, I grabbed the glass railing with my freed hand. I made my way up the curved staircase, swaying my little bit of booty in case he was watching, and losing count of how many steps I was taking. 

“You better catch me if I fall.”

“I got you.” I laughed to myself as we finally reached the top. I waited for him to take the lead again and he came around me, settling his hand on my waist. “This way, mama.”

A floral, citrusy scent met me as soon as I stepped into his bedroom. Probably from the candles lit in various spots all around it. They also provided the light, along with two lamps on the wall framing the head of his bed. “It smells so good in here.”

“I tried to hook it up for you a lil bit.”

“I like it.” The click of my heels on his gray hardwood floors was briefly muted as I strutted onto an oversized circular rug en route to his bed. The couch was nice and spacious, but the bed was much more inviting. The comforter looked cloudlike and the corner of the sheet that was exposed looked fresh. It was huge, too. Likely out of necessity. I sat on the edge and stared over at the window wall across from me as I took a feel. It was just as comfortable as I’d presumed, maybe even more. “Why you way over there? You got—what you called me?—‘something this fine’ all in your bed, and you just gon’ stand there?”

He smiled. “Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Come here then.”

“You on my side, though,” he teased, swaggering toward me in his crisp white tee and gray joggers.

I kicked my shoes off before sliding myself to the opposite side. “Better?”

“Much.” He came over and sat against the fluted headboard as I sat just a couple feet away from him. At that point, I took my phone from my purse and killed the power. I was not about to let anybody spoil my night. “What kind of music you like?”

“I’m an R&B junkie.”

“Ok.” He picked up his phone, plugged up on the table beside him. “Let me guess. 90’s and early 2000’s, right?”

“Duh! I love my oldies, too, though.”

“Word?”

“Yes. I spent the first fourteen years of my life almost exclusively with my grandparents. They blessed me.”

“Ok. What you know about this then?” After a couple taps, ‘Spend The Night’ by The Isley Brothers began to play. 

“Boy, what? This my shit.” 

“…You grooving your ass off, this really your shit.”

I howled, because I hadn’t even realized. Maybe it was the near-emptiness of my glass that had my shoulders and waist moving without my knowledge. 

“Anyway. So, what’s your favorite genre?”

“My music taste kinda eclectic. I like a lil bit of everything.”

“Like what?”

“Funk. Bounce. Jazz.”

“Okayyy.”

“R&B,” he continued, making sure to look me in the eye for that one. “House.”

“Ooh, I love House.”

“Yeah. But that’s just a few.”

I nodded. “Ok, next question.”

“What’s up?”

“Why you sit my bottle so far awaaaay?” I whined, staring longingly toward his dresser as I went to leave the bed. He laughed. 

“My bad. I’ll get it for you.”

“I’m just messing with you. I got it.” I walked over to fill my glass again, bobbing my head to my jam. 

“You mind if I smoke?”

“This your place, baby. You can do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but you my guest. And, if I’m a bad host, you might not wanna come back.”

I squinted up at him, twisting my lips to try and hide my smile, but it didn't work. The charm was just too potent. “It’s cool. Spark up.”

“Aight.” 

He leaned over and reached into his top drawer for this little box. I couldn't see inside it, but he pulled out a pre-rolled joint and I just assumed that there were more. This nigga was a stoner in the truest sense. 

The level of my glass was starting to fall again and the wine had to be going straight to my feet. Instead of returning to my seat, I opted for a cute little two-step and a couple of slow spins, quietly singing along with Mr. Biggs and Angela Winbush between sips. The song sounded better than it ever had. 

“I’m glad I chose this cut.” 

I opened my eyes to see that Yahya had changed his position, lying back on his elbows at the edge of the bed and facing me. It took all I had to keep it together. My face was on fire. “Why?”

He smacked his lips at me and took a long drag from the J. I giggled as he aimed his face toward the ceiling to release the smoke, promptly sucking it back into his mouth before it could get away. “I think you know why.” He brought his eyes back down to mine, smiling while smoke rolled from his lips and nose. 

I returned his smile. Of course I knew. “What that shit taste like?”

“You never smoked before?” he asked with a wrinkled brow.

“Nope. I told you I didn't smoke, remember?”

“Yeah, I know. But you never?”

I shook my head. “Not even once.”

“You wanna try it?”

I bit the inside of my lip, not really sure if I should. The scent of weed was something I usually just tolerated, but this didn’t smell too bad. Either that or my fascination with this man had me highly delusional. Probably. “Mmmm…” Fuck it. Might as well since I was taking a walk on the wild side for the night. Plus, I’d always wanted to try it at least once. Just to see what all the fuss was about. “Yeah.” I shrugged it off and left my glass on a nearby table, but then it hit me that I had been drinking. “Wait. Should I be doing this with alcohol?”

“It ain’t gon’ do nothing to you.”

“But am I really supposed to mix the two?”

He just sat up and reached for me, signaling me over with his fingers. “C’mere.”

I sighed, quelling most of my concerns and taking his hand. He didn’t let me make a single step, pulling me right into his hard chest. He hurried his arm around my waist as my screaming morphed into shared laughs. “Oh my god, don’t do that!” I looked down into his eyes, resting my arms on his shoulders to help get my bearings. The laughter soon faded. Smiles went next. 

“Mmmm,” he groaned, biting his lip with those gold fangs on full display. 

That same breathless feeling that had hit me at my computer, smacked the shit out of me again. Just a hundred times stronger. Seeing his brand of fine this close up was devastating. Everything that looked so damn good from afar held all of its integrity and then some. The beard, the lips, the skin, the teeth. Truly immaculate.

“Youuu… are dangerous.” I capped the sentiment with a giggle, but I was not joking. 

He frowned with a telling grin in the forefront. “What? I’m harmless.” The elevation in his tone further confirmed the lies.

I pushed myself back up to my feet, flustered as fuck and almost hating how he could make me this way so effortlessly. I really had no idea I was so foldable and, though the circumstances were lovely, I didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Fuck that.” 

He laughed and held the joint up to my lips. “Go slow.”

I looked at it and then back to him, still slightly unsure, but I went ahead. The regret was instant. I choked, coughing up what little smoke I had brought in. And, to make matters worse, he had the nerve to be laughing while I was fighting for my life. 

“Naaah, not like that.”

I shook my hanging head. “That’s ok. I don't want to anymore,” I said, fanning myself and trying to catch my breath.

“Come on. I got you.”

I smacked my lips, looking into his half-lidded eyes with my own, and caved without an ounce of pause. Shameful. “...Ok. But, if I don't get it this time, I’m done. And don't laugh.”

“Aight, aight. I won’t laugh.”

“You better not,” I teased, rolling my eyes. 

He brought that shit up to my lips again, but, this time, he rested his free hand on my hip. I didn't pay it much mind. I was more focused on preparing myself for this second pull that was probably about to kill me.

“Go slow.”

I followed his instructions and took a relaxed drag. But I forgot to stop, and this nigga just let me keep going. My eyes popped when I realized what I had done. I stood there, cheeks puffed to the brim, not knowing what the hell to do. Again, Yahya was cracking up. I, on the other hand, started to freak out, groaning frantically and tapping at his arm.

“Just open your mouth, girl.” 

I opened up and the smoke billowed out and began to float away. 

“Now catch it. Inhale.” 

I did what I was told once again and watched as some of it disappeared back into my mouth.

“Ok, hold it… now breathe.”

I let go and, surprisingly, all of it came out without me bringing a lung up with it. “I did it!” I beamed, celebrating my first successful puff of Mary.

“Started off a lil rocky, but you finished strong.” I laughed with him, feeling too triumphant to check him for rejoicing in my struggles. “You wanna hit it again?” he asked, after taking another puff. 

I nodded. I felt like I had it down, but I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. If I could do it two times in a row, that meant I could really do it. Feeling myself, I even took it from his hand when he brought it over to me. 

“Oh, shit. Ok. You a pro now, huh?”

I was too tickled, but in the merriment I still noticed that he had led his newly unoccupied hand down to my other hip. He kneaded his fingers into me, getting a nice, thorough feel. Naturally, my mind began to wander, imagining all the filthy, disgusting things he could do to me with those huge hands. I looked down at him and he was already staring back. His face was the most relaxed it had been all night. He took his gaze down to where my thighs met and I would swear I heard my girl sigh. This man was so fucking sexy it was almost infuriating. I had to look away. I took another successful pull, reveling in all of this delectable sin, and he carefully slid his hands around to my ass. The pungent smell of weed had possessed the air, the taste of the flower and a little wine were sweet on my tongue, and the sensual poetry of love songs gave us all the right directions. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this bad. 

“How you feelin’?”

I opened my eyes, tilted my head and brought my hand up to mimic a chef’s kiss.

“See? Stick with me, I can show you some thangs.” I tucked what was left of the J between his lips and he hit it one last time before sitting it over in the ashtray. Then he pulled me closer. 

I smiled and bit my lip, gently placing my hands to his chest. When I started to back away, he smiled up at me and loosened his grip, but I could tell he didn't really want to let me go. 

“Where you goin’?”

I simply shook my head as I left his grasp. I just wanted to play around with him, make him chase me a little bit. The O’Jays were singing ‘Forever Mine’ and, somehow, I could feel it in my body. Whatever Yahya had for me, I was readyyy! I turned away and clutched the bottom of my shirt with both hands, pulling it up over my head and dropping it to the floor. Not a second later, I could see his reflection in the window standing from the bed. Off came his shirt in one swift motion as he walked, then I felt him slide up behind me. The chase was over. 

With his hands at my sides, I swayed to the hypnotizing melodies, savoring how good his bare skin felt next to mine. “I love this song.” I spoke quietly, fully entranced. My hands found their way to his, and the difference in size fucked me up even more. I was leading them around to where I needed them, when he latched onto the softness of my belly and started to move toward the window. I shuffled the short distance with him until I was standing directly in front of it. He eased his hold on me and grabbed my hand, placing it onto the glass a little above my head. I looked out over his backyard, wondering if any of his neighbors could see us. Part of me hoped someone could as he played around with the waist of my jeans, touching my skin in light whispers. He crept over to the button, undoing it, what felt to be, intentionally slow. My zipper came down at the same chilling pace. With parted lips, I looked toward his hand as I felt it slide into my pants. He started to rub my pussy over my panties and they soaked through on contact, trapping my next breath in my throat. 

“Say. How you like it, mama?” He easily caught the rhythm of my subtle grind. “You like slow and steady?” 

I scratched the glass with his hand still on top of mine, feeling his dick right against my ass. Flames flickered in the near-darkness, but, clearly, we were the hottest in the room. He moved my panties to the side and slipped through the flood until my clit was pounding into the tips of his fingers. A shy moan had barely made it past my lips when he sank them deep. I whimpered loudly, gripping his arm and bending my other hand into a fist, buckling under the pressure.

“Or you like that hood shit?” He brought his hand down from the window and fixed his arm across my chest, guiding me back into him while he clung to my breast. “Hm?”

I didn't answer. I wasn’t even breathing. Despite me being highly inebriated, my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

“Why you bein’ so quiet?” he finally asked, lips brushing sweetly against my ear. Then he laid a soft kiss just underneath it. “You said you came to fuck. Don’t get all shy on me now.” 

@19jammmy @twistedcharismaaa @lemmewritesomeish @thisiswhatshefelt @teheeboo @shanisims @honestpreference @iamfredtina @blackerthings @judymfmoody @lyrarodriguez @fendionmyfeet @fadingbelieverexpert @chaneajoyyy @astoldbychae @cecereads209 @90sisthenew80s @daddiespamm @lovethecheri @xo-goldengirl @miyuhpapayuh @buttrflybby @jiminie-08 @queengodiva619 -taglist-

[desceros]

I'm guessing by your banner that you also like Minecraft sooooo, turtle Minecraft headcannons to spare please 🥺? Just in general, all the Donnie's are definitely into Minecraft. I feel like all the rise turtles are also definitely into Minecraft and Leo, mikey and Donnie all had a big Minecraft phase in their childhood and maybe they still play multiplayer with each other when their bored and have nothing better to do. Maybe gaming headcannons in general for the turtles?

i play it for like. a week once a year. then i get distracted by something else and forget i was playing. this cycle repeats once every twelve months. the neo-mayan calendar.

i'll do rise specifically bc im feeling soft for it rn

donnie loves fiddling with command blocks to set up the server, and he loves setting up fun traps for his brothers. he's huge into redstone and builds amazing contraptions. his base is one where you have to fall through lava to get inside, and he has, like. fifty secret rooms for all his loot. he has the most optimum selection of armor and always wears his elytra so he can fly out of trouble. he has 500 cats at every build so creepers can't come by and blow them up.

raph loves the combat. he never uses a shield bc it makes it 'too easy.' at any given moment, the lower left hand of the screen is filled with his death messages. he also loves the exploration part, and he's always sending coordinates for interesting things for people to check out later. his base is a dirt box with a single bed and one chest filled with some string, a single diamond, four pieces of steak, a dark oak slab, a soul strider book, and two brown mushrooms. full netherite armor (mostly bc he keeps dying in the nether and everyone got tired of him burning through all their diamonds, so they pulled together and farmed up enough netherite to give him something that wouldn't burn up)

mikey is the builder on the server. he likes to beautify things and terraform, and his base is a custom mountain valley he built in the middle of a flower forest biome. he can make every block look good. raph's house actually makes him angry, like legit, but raph won't let him pretty it up for him. he dies to creepers a lot bc he never remembers to light up his builds, and they sneak up on him while he's listening to music and building. he wears unenchanted iron armor (except when donnie forces some blast protection iv on his ass) except for his feather falling iv diamond boots.

leo's here for the mining. he loves collecting shit and bringing it back home. he'll go out with an inventory of shulker boxes, stuff 'em full, then bring them home and go back out again. he's the spine of the server; sitting afk at the witch farm so donnie can get enough redstone, going out and getting more terracotta so mikey can finish his trading hall, and helping raph collect his shit when he dies in the end and oh god maybe his elytra landed on the side???? he'll also put on a playlist and just strip mine for hours until he runs through his fourth diamond pickaxe and has to go to the gold farm to repair it up. never upgrades to netherite armor because the diamond armor is blue.