#we're not purely instinctive creatures

[janiehellion]

Wildflower Woes

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Daryl Dixon hates you. Or does he? And do you only love the flowers that grow in your own garden, or do you love the wild ones too? Because with eyes watching in the darkness of the night, nothing is ever quite as it seems.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: SEASON ONE!DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / HURT / ANGST / VOYEURISM / MASTURBATION / EXHIBITIONISM / DUB-CON / LANGUAGE / CUM PLAY / SEMI-PUBLIC

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8.000

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: NON-CON ELEMENTS

MASTERLIST

As you walked behind Daryl, your eyes drifted from the road ahead to the ground beside your feet, where something caught your eye and distracted you rather fast from everything else around you—a bunch of wildflowers that had bloomed along the side of the road. They were not only the kind you’ve always loved, but they were also a small reminder of what life really was like not so long ago.

Without a second thought, you decided to step off the path, with your fingers reaching out instinctively to touch the nearest blossom in silent admiration.

"They’re still so beautiful, despite everything," you whispered quietly to yourself, not wanting Daryl to hear what you were saying. "I remember how I always thought these were just pretty-looking weeds as a kid because Mom and Dad always had them everywhere in our garden. God, I miss them so much."

Kneeling down beside the flowers, you allowed yourself a quiet moment of peace, thinking back to a few weeks ago when everything was still normal. To those weekends gardening with your mom while your dad cut the lawn or filmed you and your mother to capture memories for the future. The time when your parents were still alive.

But that short moment of peace was quickly shattered by an all-too-familiar sound that made your heart skip a beat and sent a shiver through your body. Spinning around, your eyes locked on the rotting figure of a walker emerging from behind a tree, and panic flooded your mind.

"Shit!" You screamed, stumbling backward and falling hard onto the ground, and in your desperate attempt to avoid being bitten, you reached for your weapon, only to realize the handle was tangled with the strap of your backpack. Despair washed over you as the walker got closer, its hands reaching out to dig its fingers into your flesh.

Just then, Daryl heard your scream. He spun around, his crossbow aimed at the walker, and in the blink of an eye, the creature dropped dead at your feet with a bolt in its head.

"What in the hell were ya doin'?" Daryl shouted, his face full of anger as he rushed over.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stumbled to your feet, your voice trembling. "I… I just noticed the flowers! I’ve always liked flowers and these—"

"Flowers? Ya nearly got yerself killed over some damn flowers?" His eyes narrowed in frustration.

Daryl’s voice was bitter, full of anger, as he grabbed your arm and pulled you roughly back onto the road. Before you could react, he stomped his boot into the patch of flowers, grinding them into the dirt in front of your eyes.

"Can't believe ya'd risk yer life for this bullshit!" He said, as he pulled his bolt out of the walker and walked back to you again.

His grip on your arm tightened, and he yanked you forward. "Look at ya," he growled, full of disgust. "Ya think this is some kinda shitty garden party? We're fightin' to survive, and yer out here actin' like a pussy over a bunch of fuckin' flowers! ‘S that what's gonna save us? A fuckin' bouquet?"

His words made you flinch, and you were unable to hold back the tears that had already formed in your eyes. When you looked back up, Daryl's face was only inches from yours.

"Oh, look at ya, so delicate and pure!" He taunted with disdain. "Yeah… Ya gonna stop this shitshow with a bouquet, huh? Gonna wave 'em around and make all the walkers bow down to yer flowery grace? What’s next, princess? A fuckin’ garden gnome to guard the damn camp?"

You tried to steady your voice, fighting back your sobs. "Listen, Daryl… Thank you for saving me, really! But I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble! I just... I just wanted a moment of beauty that reminded me of—"

"A moment of beauty? Ya think yer gonna find some happy endin' in the middle of all this shit? It's like yer livin' in a fuckin' fantasy! Newsflash: This ain’t a damn fairy tale!" Daryl cut you off with a mocking laugh.

He stepped closer, invading your personal space. "Oh, I see. Ya got this big-ass plan, don't ya? Ya gonna sprinkle some petals ‘round and charm all the dead assholes with yer pretty flowers, huh? Hell, why not add a unicorn that shits glitter while yer at it?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but his insults didn't even give you a chance. "Oh, wait, I got it! Ya gonna build a fairyland where everything is perfect and we all live happily ever after! Ya gonna knit a quilt with flowers on it, and everyone will forget 'bout the damn world fallin' apart! That’s yer big-ass plan, ain't it?"

Listening to him, you struggled more and more to hold back your sobs, but you finally found the confidence to respond. "That's not true! And I didn’t say that. I just thought—"

"Thought what?" Daryl interrupted again, his voice almost yelling in anger. "Ya think that’s gonna change anything? Get real! Out here, ya don't get to have yer shitty moments of peace. Ya either get yer head outta yer ass or ya die!"

He shook his head, scoffing at you. "Tell me! What’s next, huh? Ya gonna start singin' lullabies to the walkers? Maybe ya should bake ‘em some cookies and ask ‘em to join the damn camp," he spat out, finally turning away and leaving you standing in the middle of the road, knowing that you’d follow him one way or another.

And you did.

Aside from Daryl's few mutterings of frustration, the walk back to the camp was quiet. He didn’t offer you an apology, nor did he ask why you seemed so fascinated by those wildflowers in the first place. Instead, he simply continued to walk ahead, throwing you angry sidelong glances from time to time, while his annoyed curses and angry mumblings barely reached your ears anymore.

You allowed the minutes to pass, and just as you were beginning to accept being his supply run partner a little bit more, Daryl's voice was heard again. "Quit yer damn whinin'! Pretty flowers ain't gonna keep ya alive!" he said, his anger not yet gone. "All this fuckin' bullshit just makes ya look weak! Ain't nobody got time for that. Ya gotta get that into yer head!"

He looked ahead, and with a sudden, quick move, he lifted his boot and stomped down on another few wildflowers growing along the side of the road. Your jaw dropped in disbelief, and your eyes widened in shock and hurt. The purpose behind it—to obviously hurt you—only made you clench your fists tighter, your nails digging into your palms.

But you stayed silent; the last thing you wanted was to give him any more reason to bully you and to fuel his anger. Instead, you focused on keeping your breathing steady, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you continued to follow behind him.

As you both finally approached the quarry, Daryl’s anger reached its breaking point, and in a rather sudden decision, he stormed off the path, disappearing into the woods without another word and taking the rest of the supplies with him.

"Yeah, yeah, run away, you fucking dickhead," you whispered to yourself before putting the backpack down next to the RV. "What a damn idiot! Just because he’s got a stick up his ass doesn’t mean he is allowed to shit on everything that others care about. He thinks he’s so tough, but he’s just an asshole who’s always acting like he’s the only one who matters around here! And here I was, thinking I might actually like him and have a soft spot for him. Guess I was just kidding myself. What a fucking joke!" You continued and let the sadness come out quietly as you were left standing alone.

"Can’t believe he thinks this is some kind of, I don't know, redneck survival training. ‘Oh, look at me, I’m so tough! I’ll just destroy whatever makes you happy!’ Well, newsflash to you too, Dixon: You’re not the only one who’s capable of surviving! Jesus…"

The sudden sound of footsteps approaching stopped your rant, and you turned to see Dale walking towards you with a look of concern. "Hey there," he said with a smile, taking the backpack into his hands. "You look like you’ve had a rough time out there today. Is everything okay? Where’s Daryl Dixon?"

You hesitated for a moment, the situation that has happened before making it hard for you to find the right words. Finally, you sighed and responded.

"I couldn’t give less of a fuck where that man is right now! I mean, listen, Daryl’s been—well, he’s been a jerk, like always. He got mad about a few pretty flowers that I found. You know, the wild ones that I showed you the other day when you were talking with Shane? Well, Daryl ended up stomping all over them because he had to save me from a walker, since the flowers distracted me and nearly got me killed. And now he’s just gone off into the woods without a word. He even took the rest of the supplies we’ve found with him. Can you believe that, Dale?"

"Oh, yes, I do remember the flowers; very nice to look at. My wife would’ve loved them as well, believe me," Dale’s eyes studied you as he listened to you, trying to understand what had happened, "but I’m sorry to hear about what has happened. Sure, Daryl’s got a lot of—let’s call it rough and tough edges. But I’m sure he’ll be back soon with the supplies; don’t you worry about that."

His words and warm smile helped to calm you down a little. "Yeah, I guess you’re right," you sighed, feeling a little better. "Thanks, Dale. I just needed to let off some steam. And maybe Daryl's right, some of those flowers weren’t meant to survive this cruel world…"

Dale nodded once more but looked slightly concerned because of your answer, though he decided not to address it, nor did he press any further. "Anytime. Now, let’s get these supplies sorted. I bet that Daryl will calm down soon enough as well."

You couldn't help but laugh at the thought. "Yeah, maybe. And pigs might fly too."

Soon enough, you were busy sorting the supplies when you heard footsteps approaching again. This time, it was Daryl who did come back from the woods, but his face showed that he was still annoyed.

"Here," he snapped, tossing his bag of supplies onto the ground. "Forgot to leave 'em here. Don’t expect any flowers or fairy dust."

You looked up from the supplies, sighing loudly. "Yeah, thanks," you answered quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. "I guess it’s good you’re back. The camp needs those supplies."

Daryl’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Ya know, if ya spent less time daydreamin' and more time focusin' on what’s important, then we wouldn’t have to deal with this shit."

"Is that so?" You shot back, struggling to stay calm. "And what exactly is ‘important’ to you, Daryl? Destroying everything that reminds people of normalcy?"

He snorted at you. "Normalcy? Ain’t no such thing in this world no more. If ya can’t handle that, maybe ya should stay behind."

His words hurt, but you forced yourself not to fuel his anger. "Well, maybe if you weren’t so hell-bent on destroying everything that might still matter to others, you’d see that sometimes people need a bit of hope, however small."

Daryl stared you down. "Hope? Hope won’t keep ya alive. Only havin' a pair of balls and havin’ a clear head will do that. And from where I stand, ya got none of that."

"I guess we’ve all got our own way of coping with this new world," you said quietly, not really knowing what to answer him anymore. 

His eyes studied you. "Copin'? Ya think I’m just ‘copin'’ here? I’m tryna keep us alive, and all ya do is mess 'round with flowers like it’s some kind of goddamn gardenin' hobby."

You took a deep breath. "I’m just trying to hold on to a bit of what makes me human. I know it might seem pointless to you at the moment, but those flowers... they remind me of something good, something that I miss."

Daryl scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Well, good for ya. Maybe ya can save the world with yer damn flowers, while the rest of us are riskin' our asses."

Before you could respond, Andrea approached you, having overheard the conversation. "Hey, is everything alright?" She asked, her eyes looking from you to Daryl.

"Just a little disagreement," you answered, forcing a smile. "Nothing we can’t handle."

Daryl took a step back and shook his head. "Yeah, well, I’m done wastin' my time here. Gonna get some rest."

As he walked away, Andrea rolled her eyes and turned to you with a smile. "Don’t let him get to you. He's an asshole. But you’re doing the right thing by holding on to what makes you feel human. You’ll get used to him eventually."

Later that evening, as the campfire was burning down slowly and the rest of the group went to go to sleep after their meal, you sat quietly on the side, lost in your thoughts. Daryl had withdrawn from the group, sitting alone by a tree as he stared into the flames from afar. Eventually, you stood up and walked off to your tent, but the next morning, a flower appeared by the entrance, carefully placed where it was visible but not too obvious.

"Is he for real?" You said to yourself, not really sure why he'd even continue to make fun of you like this in the first place.

While you were helping with camp chores a short time later, you spotted Jacqui kneeling by the water, washing the clothes. Taking the chance to get some answers, you approached her.

"Hey, Jacqui," you began, trying to sound neutral. "I found this wildflower in front of my tent. Any idea who might be leaving them? I don't know if Andrea told you, but I had a problem with Daryl yesterday, and I thought he left the flower there just to keep on making fun of me."

"Of course Andrea told me, how come you think she wouldn’t? You can’t keep secrets around here!" Jacqui looked up, laughing out loud. "But come on, are you for real? You think it was Daryl Dixon? Really? Come on, that's too funny."

You blinked, taken aback by her reaction. "Wait, you think it’s funny that I’m even considering Daryl after him acting like a total dickhead? I just thought—"

Jacqui laughed again, shaking her head. "Oh, come on. Daryl? Why should he continue to make fun of you like that? I mean, I wouldn’t put it past him to throw a beer can at your head, or leave a skinned squirrel in front of your tent or even under your pillow, but flowers? You're overthinking things. Honestly, I'd bet it's Shane."

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks. "Shane? Seriously? That’s what you think? But Daryl literally bullied me because of them."

Jacqui stood up, stretching her arms. "So, what? I’m just saying that sometimes it’s better not to overthink things, especially when it comes to the Dixon brothers. There's nothing that'd benefit him in mocking you any further. Anyway, I’ve got clothes to get back to." With that, Jacqui wandered off, leaving you confused and a bit embarrassed.

"Hey! It’s not like I expect him to start a flower shop anytime soon, okay? It’s just super weird!" You shouted after her, shaking your head slightly, before you caught sight of Daryl from a distance, kneeling over his crossbow. The sight of him—mumbling to himself and clearly busy with whatever he was doing—irritated you, and you decided it was time to confront him directly.

"Daryl, can we talk for a second?" You finally asked and approached him hesitantly.

He looked up, his expression unreadable. "Whaddaya want, woman?"

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady despite the frustration you felt about him still being angry with you. "I found this flower this morning. Right by my tent."

"Yeah? And what’s that gotta do with me?" Daryl’s eyes narrowed, his tone defensive.

"I just thought that maybe you’d know something about it. I mean, I didn’t think it was a coincidence, since the flower is like the same from—" You started, but he didn't let you finish.

"Hell, I dunno nothin’ ‘bout those damn flowers. Ya think I’m runnin’ ‘round playin’ flower fairy for ya now or what? It wasn't me. Keep dreamin'," Daryl cut you off, his jaw tightening. 

His voice was harsh, his tone dismissive. "Just stop pissin’ me off; yer just lookin’ too much into shit. It’s just flowers. Quit tryna make somethin’ outta nothin’."

Your frustration was growing, and you took a step closer. "I’m just trying to understand. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to understand something. Look, it doesn’t make sense for this flower to just—"

Before you could finish, Daryl cut you off again. "Hell, just drop it! Got enough problems without ya comin’ at me with this bullshit. Ain’t in the mood for yer crap no more."

Just then, Shane appeared with a wide smile on his face. "Hey there," he said, leaning against a nearby tree. "I couldn’t help but notice you looking a bit stressed. You up for some fishing? Could use some company, if you’re interested, that is."

You glanced between Shane’s big smile and Daryl’s scowling face, and with a small nod, you agreed. "Yeah, that actually sounds nice. I could definitely use a break right now. And it’d be nice to eat some fish every now and then."

Shane’s smile widened. "Perfect! We’ll have a great time, I’m sure of it; even if we don’t catch anything, it’ll still be fun. I’ll go get everything ready and come back to get you when I’m done."

"Why don’t ya both just try to drown while fishin’ then? I’m sure ya’d both do a great job at it," Daryl suddenly mumbled, turning back to his bag.

"Excuse me? What was that? What did you just say?" You asked, trying to keep your voice calm, but your confusion was obvious as you watched Shane walk away. "And what the hell are you even doing there in the first place, Daryl?"

"None of yer damn business," he snapped back at you with annoyance. "Maybe ya should spend less time bein’ a pain in the ass and more time doin’ somethin’ useful. Like catchin’ more than just one damn pitiful fish with that Romeo ya got over there."

You shook your head, feeling your frustration boil over. "You think you’re the only one who cares about survival? We’re all trying to get by, Daryl. But as a team! Together, as a group of survivors! And you? You’re just being an asshole."

Daryl’s gaze hardened. "Oh, that so? And what’s yer excuse for bein’ a pathetic, whiny mess? Thinkin’ yer entitled to shit? Get over yerself."

Before you could respond, Shane reappeared with some of the fishing gear. He then noticed Daryl’s bag next to his crossbow and raised an eyebrow. "Thistles? What the hell are you gonna do with thistles, Dixon? Prick us to death?"

"Guess we’ll be havin’ a fancy-ass thistle salad for dinner. Real gourmet shit," Daryl answered sarcastically. "Ya can eat parts of 'em, if ya so keen on knowin', but I bet ya knew that already, ain’t that so officer fancy-pants?"

Shane’s face turned serious as he glanced between you and Daryl. "Dixon, you got a problem with something? ‘Cause you’re acting like a real jackass for no goddamn reason at all!"

Daryl turned back to his bag. "Nah, just tired of watchin’ ya’ll pretend to be so high and mighty. Don’t need no charity fishin’ trip from ya, Shane."

Shane’s jaw clenched slightly, but he tried to sound calm. "Funny, Daryl, really funny. Maybe you should take a look at yourself before you start a fight you can’t win."

Daryl’s expression grew darker. "Ain’t here to be ya damn buddy, Walsh. Got my own shit to deal with, so why don’t ya just keep yer damn opinions to yerself?"

"Alright, alright. You do you, Dixon," Shane answered, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile as he looked at you again. "Come on, let's go fishing then; I’ll ask Jim to be on the lookout in the meantime."

You watched Shane walk away, then turned back to Daryl, who was now looking at the thistles in his bag.

"Great, really great. That went well," you sighed, shaking your head, but Daryl didn’t respond and instead continued to fumble with the thistles. You soon walked away, joining Shane by the water. 

"Let’s get this set up," he said, handing you a fishing rod. "We might as well make the best of it."

As the time went by, the conversation drifted to other topics. Shane talked about his past life, even sharing police stories that made you smile despite yourself.

"Thanks for this," you soon said. "It’s nice to get away from the group a little, even if it isn’t far, and just... be."

Shane nodded, focusing on his line. "Yeah, I figured you could use a break. Daryl’s got a way of being a pain in the ass."

"I guess that’s one way to put it," you laughed back. “But he isn’t the only one around who isn’t very great to get along with. The real pain in the ass around here is Ed, and that’s a fact.”

“Ed, yeah, don’t remind me. But you do realize that talking about Ed would be a pain in the ass just as much, don’t you think?” He smirked, casting his line again. "But speaking of Dixon, you know, it’s actually funny. Because I’ve seen that asshole sneaking around your tent more than once. Creepy as hell if you ask me."

You blinked at him in surprise. "Wait, wait, wait... What are you talking about? What do you mean? Daryl Dixon? What? When?"

Shane shrugged casually. "Well, I’ve already seen him lurking around your tent when you first got here weeks ago, like he’s some kind of damn stalker. Even seen him hide behind some of the cars at night. Also quite funny, because Jim was the one who caught him near the RV first, since he’s more or less the mechanic around here. Did you know that being an auto mechanic was Jim’s job? Who would’ve guessed?"

You frowned at him, processing this new information. "Shane, could you please stop trying to change the damn topic for a moment? This isn’t about Jim right now! Just tell me if you’re serious about Daryl sneaking around my tent!"

"Relax, relax! But yeah," Shane laughed and shook his head. "I mean, Daryl’s always been a bit of a freak, but that... that was something else. Fucking creep."

You bit your lip, feeling confused. "I don’t know, Shane. I mean, sure, he’s rough around the edges, like Dale pointed out before too, but..."

"But? But what?" Shane asked, raising an eyebrow. 

You hesitated, then sighed. "It’s a little stupid, okay? But when I first got here, I kind of had a fleeting thing for him. But not for long; I mean, I didn’t know anybody around here; you were all just strangers, so of course I didn’t know what he’s actually like."

Shane’s face quickly showed disbelief and a bit of anger. "You’re shitting me, right? That piece of shit who literally told us to drown? You had a crush on him?"

You shook your head, feeling quite embarrassed. "No, listen, it wasn’t exactly a crush! Please, don't call it a crush, okay? I simply thought there was more to him, you know? Maybe under all that anger, there’s someone who… cares."

Shane shook his head, his jaw clenched so tight that you could see his muscles twitch while he was gritting his teeth. "You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. That hillbilly dipshit? He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, just like his brother Merle. And now he’s got you thinking he’s some kind of misunderstood hero? That piece of shit couldn’t even fit into the anti-hero category if he wanted to! I already told Lori and Carol to keep Carl and Sophia away from him and his brother! Because they’re both a bad influence!"

"It’s not like that, Shane! I know he’s very difficult, but..." You started, but he cut you off once more.

"But nothing!" Shane snapped. "God, you sound just like Dale! Please now, just listen to me. You deserve better than that. Someone who actually gives a damn about you. Not some freaking weirdo who creeps around your tent at night. I know that I should’ve told you sooner, and I’m sorry. But you think Daryl’s going to change just because Merle’s probably dead? Nah. He’s just going to keep treating you and all of us like shit. But I’m here, and I actually care about you and the rest of us. And I did care right from the start."

You shook your head, feeling overwhelmed by his words. "Shane, please, this really is turning into an awkward conversation right now. I just need some time to think and not a motivational coach with a shotgun and a fishing rod."

"Fine. But just remember what I said. Daryl’s not the guy you think he is." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "And you know what? The two of you are a perfect pair of fuckin’ clichés. The tough redneck guy and the naive dreamer princess. It’s pathetic."

You hesitated, unsure of how to continue the conversation. "Okay, okay, I got it! Stop! I meant to ask you a different question anyway! About a flower I found by my tent. Did you leave it there for me?"

Shane shook his head. "Me? Leaving you a flower? No. Don’t have time for that. I have to keep this group safe, after all."

You sighed, feeling a bit of relief. "I know, I know, it's just that... Jacqui thought it might've been you. Guess she was wrong."

Shane shrugged nonchalantly, not wanting to talk any further. "Yeah, well, let’s just finish up here and head back."

A short time later, you and Shane packed up your gear and headed back to the camp, where the rest of the group, apart from Daryl, was already sitting around the campfire and talking. about the usual things, all the while you couldn’t stop thinking about what Shane had told you as you stared into the fire.

And as the night finally fell over the Atlanta camp, Daryl found himself in the shadows and lost in thought. He had withdrawn from the group throughout the rest of the day, thinking about how Shane and your fishing trip had annoyed him and left him feeling more than just pissed.

He moved quietly through the trees, his steps almost making little to no sound while his mind was full of conflicting thoughts, each one more chaotic than the last. He was still angry with himself over everything that had happened—his rage towards you, Shane’s arrogant attitude, and his own pushed-away emotions that he couldn't really ignore.

Standing by the edge of your tent, he looked around to make sure he was alone and out of sight before he crouched down, pulling out a small bundle from his pocket—another wildflower, the exact kind that you liked so much.

"Fuckin' ridiculous," he mumbled to himself and snorted. "Here I am, sneakin' 'round like some kind of goddamn lunatic."

He put it gently on the ground, just near the entrance of your tent, where you had to notice it one way or another. His fingers moved along the petals of the flower as if it could somehow help him feel better with his guilt. "Goddamn it, Daryl," he whispered to himself. "Ya really fucked it all up, like ya always do. Stompin' on 'em flowers like a fuckin' idiot. What were ya even thinkin'?"

His eyes narrowed as he remembered how he had responded and how he had used his insults and rage to try to push you away. "Ya didn’t mean it," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Ya were just so pissed off. Shane’s up her ass all day, and ya had to be the one who’s had to do somethin'. Hell, she's gonna think it was him now anyway, with the way he’s been actin' 'round her, that's for damn sure."

He stood up, avoiding stepping on the flower. "But ya know what? It ain’t 'bout him. 'S 'bout yerself, ya fuckin' idiot. Ya can’t just keep watchin' her and expectin' her to see ya for the piece of shit ya really are."

He looked around when he heard a noise, seeing you coming from a distance, and quickly moved to hide behind a nearby tree. His heart was racing in his chest; adrenaline and shame were rushing through his body, but he couldn’t let you see him; he couldn’t let you know that he was here, after all.

Daryl crouched down low, pressing his back against the bark of the tree he was leaning against. "Every damn night," he whispered quietly, "watchin’ her shadow. Shit, she doesn’t know. Fuckin’ hell, if she knew... I’m a goddamn creep. But I can’t stop. I just—I need to see her. Need to know she’s there."

His eyes followed you as you got closer, but he didn’t move. He was observing you and watching to see if you would notice the flower immediately, or if you wouldn’t until the next morning.

"She’s gotta know it’s me," Daryl thought, his mind racing and his body beginning to sweat all of a sudden. "She’s suspicious already. Can’t let her know the real reason why. She’d hate me for it."

His knuckles went white as he clenched his fists tightly. "I’m a fuckin’ idiot. That’s what I am. Tryin’ to make it right with damn flowers, but I’m still the asshole who’s watchin’ her like a damn perv. She’s got no idea," he whispered to himself again. "No fuckin’ clue what’s really goin’ on. Hell, if anyone 'round here knew, they’d run me outta camp. Can’t have that. Don’t want her to know; don’t want anyone to know."

"Why’d ya let things go this far?" He continued to tell himself. "Why’d ya let yerself get so fuckin' close to her? Ya think she’s gonna understand why yer such a fuckin' creep? Fuck, think again."

As you opened your tent, Daryl's eyes were watching you with nervousness. Even though he knew it was wrong, he was unable to accept the fact that he had been watching you most of the time at night, unable to take his eyes off your tent.

"Ain't gonna make excuses," he muttered. "Been an asshole, and I know it. Been watchin' her—sometimes even more than I should. Fuckin' hate myself for it. Every damn time I see her, she reminds me that I’m a damn bastard, and I can’t stand it."

Thoughts of how he had treated you kept coming back again and again to his mind. "I act like I don’t give a shit, but I do. Hell, I care more than I wanna admit. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so goddamn hard on her. Dunno. Maybe I thought it’d keep me from feelin'... this way."

Daryl stayed right where he was, watching you leave your tent open as you eventually got inside. "Fuck," he whispered to himself. "This ain't right. She deserves better than this. Deserves someone who’s not a fuckin' creep. Can’t help it. I keep comin' back here, leavin' these stupid fuckin' flowers, hopin' she might see some part of me that’s not completely fucked up."

He sighed, feeling his thoughts pressing down on him. "Yer a mess, Dixon. And ya know it. Yer leavin' flowers to try to make up for yer own damn behavior, and it ain't ever gonna be enough."

Upon entering your tent, you did notice the flower that was lying by the entrance. In fact, the flower was too familiar, and the thought of Daryl lurking around nearby made you shiver, but you didn’t acknowledge the flower directly. Rather, you purposefully chose to ignore it because Shane's remarks regarding Daryl had made you feel a little uneasy, which you could not quite shake, but it also somehow excited you to no end.

"Alright, let’s make this good, and let’s see if he really is sneaking around here," you then murmured to yourself with a smirk on your lips as you thought about your plan. "I’m gonna give him a show he won’t forget anytime soon."

You began to undress slowly, your fingers sliding over your skin as you glanced at the open gap of the tent, a deliberate choice to keep it ajar.

"Is this what you want, Daryl?" You whispered to yourself as you pulled off your shirt and slid your jeans down. "Do you want to see me like this?"

With every piece of clothing that you let fall to the ground, the blush on your cheeks turned redder. The thought of him possibly watching you from the shadows, all hidden and quiet, made you shiver with excitement and nervousness, because of the other dangers that might be hidden in the shadows. “Don’t think about anything else right now; I’m safe. I’m safe.”

Your fingers fumbled with the hooks of your bra, and you let it fall from your shoulders before you squeezed your breasts with your hands, the feeling of your fingertips brushing over your hardening nipples making you moan. "Look at me," you murmured, "see how I’m touching myself, how I’m getting so fucking wet because of you right now."

Your hand slid down your stomach, your fingers sliding into your panties, with the wetness of your pussy making you gasp as you started to rub your clit in slow circles. "You like this, don’t you? Watching me at night, knowing I’m thinking of you?"

You soon pulled your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, showing yourself off completely before you laid down and spread your legs, giving a full view of your wet pussy. With two fingers, you traced the outer folds before slipping them inside, letting out a quiet moan. "I know you’re out there," you whispered, "watching every fucking move I make."

As you began to fuck yourself slowly, your other hand continued to pinch and tease your nipples. "I can almost feel your eyes on me," you mumbled, "watching as I fuck myself. Is it turning you on, Daryl? I bet you're already so fucking hard."

You added another finger inside, curling them slightly to stretch yourself more and tease your G-spot with each thrust. "I bet you’re dying to feel what this is like," you taunted quietly, "to be so so fucking deep inside me right here, right now."

Your fingers moved faster, your hips moving in time with the thrusts of your fingers, and you were already getting closer to the edge just by thinking about the fact that Daryl was probably watching you. "I bet you’re imagining how fucking tight I’d be around you," you moaned. "I know you’re just as fucking turned on as I am."

Among the trees, Daryl remained hidden in the shadows. His eyes were locked on you, unable to look away even as his heart pounded violently in his chest. The way your fingers moved over your breasts, the playful, almost desperate way you touched your hard nipples—it drove him wild, and the image of you parting your pussy and pushing your fingers into yourself was nearly unbearable. Every little movement you made seemed to burn itself into his mind.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he mumbled while his gaze shifted a bit as he attempted to stand up from his position without making a sound. He forced himself to remain motionless, but his hand went almost automatically to his zipper.

The simple sight of you, all naked, completely defenseless, and so vulnerable, was making him lose his mind. He could see how your body tensed and arched with every touch, and his eyes tracked every movement of your fingers as they slid in and out of your pussy.

"Fuck, not again; why’m I doin' this?" Daryl grumbled to himself, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock inside his pants. "This ain’t right. She’s right there, and I’m just—fuck!"

He glanced down at his own body, his cock pushing hard against his pants. It wasn't easy to ignore the pulsing need that was building up inside him—a need that seemed to only grow with every quiet moan you let out. His heart was racing, and he could feel the sweat starting to run down his forehead.

Daryl’s fingers fumbled with the zipper of his pants; he was trying to calm himself down at first, but the sight of you getting yourself off was making it nearly impossible to think straight. "Jesus fuckin' Christ," he muttered again, struggling to keep his breathing steady. "Ya can’t just give in. Not yet. Ya gotta keep control."

He watched you spread your legs wider, your fingers moving faster now, and it was all he could do to keep himself from making any noise. His eyes locked onto the way your body responded—how your hips bucked with each thrust of your fingers.

"Look at her. She’s so fuckin' beautiful," Daryl let out quietly. "So damn hot, and here I am, just watchin'. Like some sick fuckin' perv."

With a quiet, frustrated growl, he tried to regain control of himself, his hands clenching more tightly. Even though his cock was begging for attention, he was unable to let himself go.

"Keep it together, Dixon," he told himself, his voice trembling. "Yer not gonna just—give in. Not yet. Not like this. She’s... she’s right there. Goddamn it! Fuck!"

But Daryl's control was breaking fast, each breath that he took only making it harder to keep his impulses in check, and it was pushing him past the point of no return. The temptation was just too great, and he couldn't control himself any longer. His hands, which had been clenched tightly into fists, now finally moved to undo the zipper of his pants.

His cock sprang free, the sight of it being so hard making him shudder, and the moment his hand wrapped around it, he let out a quiet groan.

"Goddamn it," he mumbled, his voice full of frustration and lust as he started to stroke himself slowly. "She's gonna fuckin' kill me."

He couldn’t help but imagine your hands being on him—almost in the same way that you were touching yourself. He could hear your every moan, every breath, every whimper, and it only made him grip his cock tighter, his strokes becoming faster and more needy.

"I bet ya like that, don’t ya?" He grumbled to himself. "I bet ya fuckin' know I’m here."

It was impossible for him to ignore how badly he wanted to be the one touching you, to be the one making you sigh and moan for him.

"Jesus," he panted out and gasped. "Ya just keep fuckin' doin’ that, don’t ya, princess? Fuckin' hell..."

Struggling to remain silent, his free hand felt for the tree next to him, and he pressed it against the bark to steady himself. Though he was getting close to the edge and the tip of his cock was coated with pre-cum, he was determined not to cum just yet.

"Damn it, Dixon," he hissed at himself. "Look at ya, gettin' off to this all over again. Yer a fuckin' mess. Fuckin' pathetic."

There was still a part of him that wanted to stop, and he battled the shame and guilt that was building up and rising within him. But as your moans grew slightly louder and as you suddenly whispered his name into the darkness, it only pushed him further into his own desperate need.

"Hell’s she sayin'?" Daryl mumbled to himself, his eyes narrowing as he tried to focus and concentrate on your voice. "Shit, she’s sayin' my fuckin' name..."

The sound of his name on your lips, even if it was only a silent whisper, made his cock twitch and pulse, and his strokes became more urgent with the intense need to finally cum.

"Fuckin' hell," he growled, his breathing coming out even more uneven. "She's gonna make me lose my shit. Just... just keep talkin', princess."

The way you were saying his name, the thought of you knowing he was watching, made it impossible for him to stay still. Finally, he couldn’t resist any longer. He stepped closer, his throbbing cock in hand, and let out a growl to make you notice him as he slipped inside your tent. "Ya really thought ya could just tease me like this?"

With your fingers still buried deep inside of you, your eyes snapped open. "Daryl?" Even though you knew that he was watching you, you let out a gasp, and your voice trembled slightly.

"Yeah," he said, taking another step closer. There was something else that turned him on even more than just the shock he could see in your eyes. "Thought ya could put on a private show for me, huh?"

You swallowed hard, your eyes never leaving his as he stood directly over you, his cock still hard and pulsing with every stroke of his hand. "A show?" You asked, your voice sounding a little shaky.

"Damn right. A show," he answered with a small smirk. "With me seein’ everythin'. Couldn’t stay away."

You pulled your fingers out of your pussy and tried to stand up, but Daryl pushed you back down with one of his boots on your shoulder. "Stay where ya are," he growled. "Don’t ya dare stop."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as you looked up at him, your heart racing. The realization about the rawness of the moment hit you, and you nodded slowly, your fingers sliding back into your pussy as you lay back down in your tent. Your eyes were locked onto his, and he could see the mixed feelings of shock, excitement, and lust in your gaze.

Daryl’s hand soon moved in rhythm with yours again, his strokes becoming faster and more urgent as he watched you. The sight of you, so shameless and wet for him, made him lose himself even more. "Ya know," he said, his voice still low and rough. "Ain't thought I’d see this day. With yer all spread out like this, knowin' I’m here, watchin' ya fuckin’ yerself. 'S a damn mindfuck."

You moaned in response, your fingers working in and out of your pussy with an increasing speed of your thrusts. "And you think you can just walk in here?" You taunted back and teased him. "You think you’re gonna get what you want, Dixon?"

Daryl’s eyes never left yours, his cock throbbing with need. "Ain't just here for the damn show," he growled. "I’m here to fuckin' claim ya. Ya got that?"

Your eyes widened, and you barely held back a loud moan, your fingers pushing deeper into your pussy. "And what makes you think I’ll just let you?" You challenged him back, your eyes wandering from his cock to his face again.

"Oh, I think ya fuckin' will," Daryl said, his voice full of confidence. "'Cause I fuckin' want to. And it’s my turn to take what I want."

Every movement, every quiet moan, and every word you both whispered to each other heightened the lust and need for the both of you. Daryl’s strokes on his cock became more frantic, and he could feel his orgasm building, the pressure in his balls growing with every stroke, but he was determined to hold off until he had fully taken in the sight of you.

"Gonna make sure ya know who’s watchin'," Daryl said quietly. "Gonna leave my mark on ya."

He positioned himself above you, and without saying another word, he pointed his cock at you, making sure that his cum would land where he wanted it to.

"I ain't done," he growled, his eyes locked on you. "Not yet."

He took another step closer, his hand still jerking his throbbing shaft, while his other hand reached out, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you up slightly, just enough to make you look at him with wide eyes.

"Do ya want me to finish like this?" He mumbled, his voice already hoarse. "Or do ya want me to make a fuckin' mess 'round here in yer tent?"

You didn’t have a chance to answer before he let go of your hair and moved his cock closer to your body again. He had seen enough, felt enough—he was on the edge and couldn’t hold it back any longer. With a low groan, he started to jerk himself off harder and faster, his eyes never leaving yours, and without warning, he came hard, his hips bucking wildly and his cum shooting out, landing across your body, most of it on your breasts and chin.

"Fuck," he muttered, still stroking his cock, but slowing down. "Look at ya. Just a fuckin' mess now."

You lay there, slowly pulling your fingers out of your pussy, your body covered with his cum. "You know," you suddenly started, your voice quiet but teasing. "You might be the first wildflower that might leave a thorn in my side."

A smirk formed itself on Daryl's lips due to the mention of the flowers, but it was quickly replaced by a look of embarrassment, and he shifted uncomfortably as he put his cock back into his pants. "Shut ya damn mouth, woman."

Without a word, he stepped forward, grabbed your head roughly by your hair, and yanked you up to meet his eyes. You couldn’t help but whimper as he was staring at you up and down, so dangerously close.

Daryl grinned at the noise you made and grabbed your neck with his other hand, the thumb going to your chin and gathering the rest of his cum that was slowly sliding down on it.

"Eat," he insisted, but before you could answer or protest in any way, he put his thumb against your lips and pushed it inside your mouth, waiting for you to suck it off.

And just as he pulled it out again, his mouth came crashing down on yours in a rough and primal kiss. It was demanding, and his teeth moved against your skin as he went down to the side of your jaw, sucking on every bit of flesh on his way down to your neck before biting down hard into it, leaving his mark.

His gaze then fell to your fingers, still glistening with the juices of your pussy, as he held you in a tight grip to keep you from falling due to your trembling legs. Slowly, teasingly, he reached out and brought your fingers to his mouth. His tongue slid over your skin, licking and sucking them off intensely, devouring every bit of what was left of you on them.

Daryl enjoyed the taste of you, and his eyes never left yours as he pulled back a little, his hand roughly grabbing your chin. "Don’t ya fuckin' forget this," he growled, letting go of you and watching as you stumbled back onto the ground in front of him before he finally turned to leave. "Yer mine in ways ya don’t even understand yet."

TAG-LIST: NONE. BECAUSE MY WRITING SUCKS.

[linkito]

👀 you know I HAVE to ask about that one incident now because nooooo he hurt Grian?? What happened??

Especially if there's sketches involved, because you two are apparently gods to be so good with both writing and art.

-🎀

pffffft hardly gods, ribbon anon, we're just very obsessed with our own au LOL<3

Now behold!! The Incident™!!! rambles and art below cut! (sorry it took so long :'3)

So somewhere down the line, though before any of the events of the mimic/Juni arc, Grian and Scar get attacked by a large group of hunters. It’s a coordinated effort, incredibly calculated.. 

They’ve prepared a thick, heavy net to throw over Grian that tangles into his wings if he tries to use them to escape. And though it takes multiple men to subdue Scar, they get him by stabbing him through the shoulder with a long pronged spear.

It locks in on the other side and makes it almost impossible to remove without worsening the wound or breaking the spear, and someone can keep holding onto the handle.

The hunters clearly want them both alive (for now). Their plan seems to be to sell them, or at least Grian (or at least Grian’s wings).

They can sort of force Scar to move by threatening to jostle the spear, and they tie his hands, too, so he can struggle all he wants, but all he can do is walk while he just continues to bleed. Grian is practically dragged along, twisted and tangled into the coarse net. They’re both scared out of their minds.

Eventually they arrive at a village of sorts, like an outpost for bounty hunters. The humans discuss keeping the vex for sparring purposes (more like target practice), and how they should go about turning a profit with the avian— whether they should sell him as a whole or in parts. One particular hunter removes the net from over Grian and steps his boot down onto one of his wings, knife in hand like he’s going to slice off a few feathers or even a whole damn chunk.

Now, Scar’s gone vex-brained before, but seeing this unfold before him? This time it’s different.

His eyes glow and his hair turns entirely white. Claws and fangs emerge and he sees nothing but pure rage.

With newfound strength, Scar easily breaks through the ropes, but he’s still got that wretched spear. It doesn’t matter to him in the slightest though. He lashes out, slashing and attacking wildly, blood spilling every which way.

Worried he needs to aid with controlling the vex, the hunter with the knife hesitates. And Grian takes that moment that he feels the weight of his boot shift to use his other wing to slam into the man’s body and knock him onto the ground. It’s his mistake for underestimating Grian.

Together, the two of them manage to scramble to flee, but there are hunters on their trail, both humans and bloodhound creatures. And Scar is still entirely feral. He’s not himself at all. He’s not seeing things right, it’s just rage and instinct and blood.

He tears through men and monsters alike, not even bothering to draw his sword. It’s all teeth and claws.

Grian thinks he ought to be afraid, but in spite of everything, Scar’s instinct to protect is just as strong, and his claws weave masterfully around Grian, only striking down their foes.

In the midst of the chaos, however, Grian notices something. While in whatever arcane form this may be, Scar is rapidly healing all his wounds. Blue wisps of magic weave his skin back together as it breaks, although it leaves behind awful, ragged scarring. (How interesting...)

But the spear is still there.

Scar can’t heal while that thing still pierces through him.

And that’s a serious wound. Scar may legitimately die from it if he comes out of this haze without dealing with it. And something tells Grian that Scar doesn’t have enough reason right now to realize that himself.

So as soon as he has a chance, Grian grabs the spear, and with great difficulty, manages to snap it so that it might be pulled out. 

But Scar doesn’t understand what’s happening to him. All he registers is pain and that someone else caused it. 

There’s confusion.

There’s lashing out. 

Grian can maybe manage to dodge out of the way, but he still has to remove the spear, and in the end, in order for Grian to succeed, Scar also lands a wild slash directly onto Grian’s wings. 

The spear gets yanked out, but now Grian is bleeding and in a nightmarish world of pain and Scar’s onslaught is far from over. He pounces onto Grian, pinning that injured wing onto the hard ground underneath them both.

Scar is confused and betrayed and hurting and no longer has any sense over his actions.

And Grian is terrified. Terrified out of his mind, but also—

It’s Scar.

And Grian’s wings have been nothing but a beacon, nothing but a source of danger to them both. And if Scar decides it’s better if they’re gone? ...maybe Grian would let him. 

And as blood trickles between his feathers, he thinks maybe it would be better after all.

So Grian goes limp beneath him, entirely giving in.

“Scar...” he mutters, and maybe it’s a plea. Maybe it’s a surrender.

Scar’s pointed ears twitch. He hears Grian call his name, clear as day, amidst the haze and adrenaline and fear. And Scar needs to protect him. He has to keep fighting. Grian is scared.

He’s scared.

He’s scared of—

“...oh god.” Scar’s voice comes out hoarse, eyes flickering weakly back to their normal green hue.

He sees his hands hovering near Grian’s throat, claws outstretched, and his hands are drenched in blood and he doesn’t know whose it is. Scar stumbles back, horrified. He thinks he’s going to be sick. Everything rapidly returns to normal and suddenly he feels so weak, absolutely drained, his hands are trembling now and—

They both hear shouting in the distance.

Unfortunately, there is no time to come to terms with any of this at all.

They have no choice but to keep running.

...

Now Scar already does everything he can not to touch Grian’s wings. Grian has so much trauma surrounding his wings already, and now? Now Scar feels no better than any of the other monsters after Grian’s feathers. He doesn’t deserve the right. He failed and he hurt Grian, and Grian can barely even bring himself to treat the wound because part of him truly believes he ought to leave them tarnished and broken. 

And later, when Grian inadvertently flinches at Scar’s touch? Scar vows to himself to never use that savage state ever again. 

[ellieslittleburrow]

Requested by anon : i hope this isn’t too dark but could i request joel with a daughter who’s a recovering addict?? and just how he would deal with that

Warnings : ADDICTION recovery, swearing, a clingy father and a ghostly mention of a blackout.

A/N : i hope you like this, anon.❤❤ Also i have a feeling i conveyed Joel a bit weaker than he usual is??? But in my brain it's the Joel that met up with Tommy again. The exact addiction was also not specified so i tried to make it as neutral as possible. Anyway, enjoy yall! 🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

------

"Hey" A soft smile phantoms over your dad's face as he enters the room. "How are we feeling this morning?" He attempts enthusiasm but fails. You don't push... At least he tries...That's what you keep saying to yourself.

It's been a few months since your last episode. Call it episode of whatever you want, anger, last straw, the moment you gave yourself another chance...

"We're good..." You awkwardly stand in the middle of the room, timidly swinging your foot forward and backward "Should we...?" You throw your chin forward, motioning towards the door.

"Yeah!"

----

Since that last time, living with Joel has been a blessing and a curse. The heavy silence that sets in the car every time you went somewhere, the weight of knowing what occupied both of your minds and not being able to do anything about it.

There were fights. Like that time he entered your room without knocking, causing you to startle and to to swing your habd behind your back.

He'd ruin the fucking surpr-

"What are you hiding behind your back?" His low tone slaps you like thunder and you realize wht he has in mind.

Your heart stings and you scoff. stupid you for thinking about him, yeah?

You hold out the glass jar, examining its contents one last time. A letter, a pocket watch, a small knife and a monarch butterfly you stupidly taxidermied, thinking it was the thing he loved the most. "Monarch butterflies..creatures guided by an ancient instinct to seek sanctuary in distant lands...Kinda remind me of myself..." He'd always say. So you violently hurl the bottle at the ground, meeting his eyes as the bottle shatters. "Well, it was your gift." You force a smile. "There it goes." And before brushing past him, you make sure to spit on the contents, just in case he ever decided to pick them up after you.

He grips your arm as you walk by. But you yanked it away, throwing him a glare before leaving.

He begs later. More than once, for a few days. "I-I-I'm sorry, I-I" He holds your hand. "I can't imagine how much that hurt..."

There were also other times where tears flowed. Tears being his...least favorite thing.

Like that time your body shut down...Went numb and you found yourself on your knees, hyperventilating as you search for air to breathe. Nothing serious, just pure exhaustion and lack of sleep. On his face of the moon, you fell to the ground and were unable to breathe, your colors washed off and your eyes widened....What's happening to you??? He doesn't know.

He rushes down to the ground and leans close to your face, feeling for..symptoms. "What-w-what is it-what's happening?" He shouts through panicky unsteady breaths. And as you struggle to even utter a word or two, tears stream down his face. "Please tell me what's happening."

Again, nothing serious on your side. Just a bad flashback for him, from back when you blacked out last. When he almost lost you.

That being said, bad moments weren't the only things that shaped your relationship. There were good moments too.

Good moments where words weren't needed for him to show how much he cared for you. He'd -not-so-discreetly watch you eat, from the corner of his eyes. and he'd sometimes lay awake, waiting to comfort you.

he'd also supervise you from time to time (More like spy on you).

You once couldn't deal with it anymore. And your prankster attitude couldn't let it slide easily. So you decided to prank him.

On your stroll through the woods, you stopped in your tracks, whirling around to point your rifle at him.

"Show yourself or i'm shooting your eyeballs off." Stern and threatening, you shout.

He startles, abruptly raising his arms up. "It's me!!!! It's me." Fear laces his voice. "It's just me."

A smirk creeps up on your face. "I know." You snort. "I got ya good." You got him goood.

His shoulders slouch and he breathes out heavily. "You sure did."

"Are you following me?" You ask, still keeping the same distance between the two of you.

"N-no, i'm j-"

"Just following me."

He sighs again. "No, i a-"

"Spying"

"NO! I'm just making sure you're not....Just making sure you're okay."

You debate whether to tell him that's literally spying or to just leave it. So you just shrug. "Okay...sure."

It can be suffocating at times, But you appreciate the effort anyways.

"Go home, dude." You turn on your heels and head away from him.

On your road to full recovery, you find yourself missing things that you promised yourself and the world you'd stay away from. With Joel on your side -and sometimes up your ass- You find yourself wanting to run, but always ending up wanting him back by your side. Because as protective and annoying as he can be, he's also always there whenever you find yourself falling back down, easing the burden of being this new person you're trying to be.

------

"Are you listening?"

You smile at him, thrown off by the sudden come back you had to do. "Yeah. Let's go."

--------

Hiiii! I hope yall enjoyed thiis, even though it's different from the usual style ❤❤🌸🥀🥀

[tombfreak]

Hello, I’m really confused by some of the things you mentioned in your reply to that other person.

You described unconventional senses of remorse as driven by shame from, or occasionally fear of, getting caught, or fear of it causing you to lose something valuable. I thought that was prosocial? How would a prosocial feel remorse vs. an antisocial? Isn’t the whole point of feeling bad for hurting someone “oh no, I might hurt my relationship with them!!” Like, nobody genuinely feels bad when they hurt a stranger, right? It’s just “oh no, people will see me as bad!” and people get mad when you admit you didn’t really feel bad because people don’t actually value honesty.

And you mentioned keeping friendships purely for your entertainment value. Again, what’s the difference between that and a “prosocial” friendship? I’m asking since that describes most of my friendships. I don’t really bother to keep a friend if they aren’t entertaining somehow.

I’m probably going to be bombarding you with questions. Please take your time with them. I like how you link studies, it makes me more willing to trust what you say.

No worries at all, I love discussing these types of things

For further reading on ASPD and remorse and empathy, you can check out these studies; [1], [2]

To understand how remorse differs from those who are prosocial vs antisocial, we'll have to properly define the word.

Cambridge Dictionary defines the word "remorse" as "a strong feeling of guilt and regret about something you have done". Merriam-Webster defines it as "a deep regret coming from a sense of guilt for past wrongs". The description for remorse on Wikipedia is "remorse is a distressing emotion experienced by an individual who regrets actions which they have done in the past that they deem to be shameful, hurtful, or wrong."

They all describe remorse as feeling bad about what you have done, rather than what will be done to you. While a lot of prosocials do experience remorse out of a fear of consequences, they may also experience remorse simply due to empathy for the other person. If they only feared consequences, why would they feel bad about situations where there was no threat of punishment? Why do they feel bad after forgiveness was given? Why do they feel bad for hurting strangers they wont ever see again?

Humans are social creatures, which is why we have a label designed to categorize those who act against our natural social instincts. Back in hunter-gatherer times, we functioned in tribes. If we were shunned by the tribe, or left behind, our changes of survival would plummet exponentially, so our brains began to associate being left alone with high risks of death. This is why people typically get uncomfortable at rejection or at being left out, because it triggers this primal tribal urge in our brain.

This is also why we have remorse. Because if we fucked up, we needed to have some sort of safeguard in our brain to push us to fix the situation, or learn from it. Our brain uses good-feeling chemicals to tell us that we're doing something right, and bad-feeling chemicals to tell us that something is wrong.

Now, people with ASPD are still people. They aren't a different subset of person just because of this label. They are perfectly capable of experiencing prosocial things in prosocial ways (if they still meet the ASPD criteria in other ways).

So while it's true that remorse simply out of a fear of consequences is true for some prosocials, its not always the case, some people genuinely do feel bad simply for hurting another person. Meanwhile that fearing-consequence remorse is much more prominent with people with ASPD.

Yes, a lot of prosocials do keep people around simply because they're fun. The difference is that it's to a disordered extent with ASPD. Antisocial behaviours and mindsets are actually very common in regular people. Everyone lacks empathy and remorse sometimes, everyone thinks cruel or mean thoughts, everyone lies and manipulates others. The difference is that it is taken to an extreme and causes dysfunction is many areas of life in ASPD, and it is deeply ingrained into how they think and act.

So the difference between a prosocial friendship and an ASPD one, is that the prosocial would know more on how to make a friendship only based on entertainment work. Meanwhile someone with ASPD would go against the social rules of etiquette and just be a complete dick.

For me personally, I was always very open to my old friends on what I wanted from them. I always made it clear that the moment they stopped being entertaining to me, I would drop them, no matter what they had done for me, or how close we became. I have a history of dropping people who have given me tons of money, or have spent a lot of time and effort on our relationship, just because I didn't see them as worth my time anymore. It's a very dysfunctional way of doing things that causes issues in my interpersonal relationships. My disregard for their feelings and my callous selfishness in regards to my friendships back then was the difference between me being prosocial and antisocial.

I've noticed a lot of prosocial behaviour comes from people-pleasing and wanting to follow the social norms set in place, so while they might just use their friends for entertainment, they'd never admit it to them, or themselves.

Also, some prosocials are capable of forming relationships just on the basis of empathy, shared interests, admiration, or caring for the other person. My best friend gets absolutely no benefit from me, we rarely even talk, but he is always happy to help me out and hangout with me when I feel like it. He forms relationships based on simply liking a person and valuing the traits they have as a person, instead of if they give him entertainment, or money, or a rush.

Again, people with ASPD are still people, and its very common for a prosocial person to experience antisocial traits or mindsets to a functional extent. ASPD is a very complex disorder and differs greatly in presentation. Theres 7 symptoms from criteria A, and someone only needs to exhibit 3 of them in order to qualify for a diagnosis. The big difference in the ways prosocials and antisocials do things, is that antisocials have a complete disregard for the social norms, expectations, and others feelings, while prosocials try to cater to these things most of the time.

[mr-f3l7]

While we're on the subject of Greek Monsters being Victims

I honestly feel pretty bad for the Minotaur.

First some backstory; A prince named Minos was competing with his brother from the throne of their island, Crete, and decided the best way to get a one up on his brother was to show the gods favored him. So he prayed to Poseidon for his favor and Poseidon decided, "Yeah, sure", and gifted Minos a pure white bull as a sign of favor.

(A side note, historically ancient Crete had a huge thing for Bulls, most of their surviving culture heavily featured bovine sigils which might explain how this story came to be and so on).

The Cretans, who loved Bulls, of course recognized what this meant and Minos ascended to the throne. Of course, here is where the classic mortal arrogance steps on divine pride comes in. See, Minos was supposed to sacrifice the bull to Poseidon as a show of thanks but Minos decided that he liked the white bull far too much to simply kill, so he sacrificed a different bull and kept Poseidon's cow hoping he could have his cake and eat it too. Poseidon was reasonably a bit pissed that this mortal reneged on their very simple deal and decided some wildly indiscriminate divine judgement was called for.

Poseidon decided the most poetic thing to do was to make Minos' wife love the Bull even more than anyone on Crete, even Minos... by, like, a lot. Like, a lot. Long story short, Minos had a bastard son who was half bull and was horrified. According to the myth, the Minotaur was originally raised by Minos' wife but quickly became vicious and as an unnatural beast feasted on human flesh since it had no actual place in the food chain. To contain it, Minos tasked Daedalus to construct a massive labyrinth to contain the Minotaur.

There it would languish for years, lost in the dark and even used as a sadistic form of execution for Minos' enemies, specifically Athenian men and women handed over to Minos after he waged war with them until eventually Theseus would arrive and slay the Minotaur.

Now, you may be wondering why I would feel bad for this guy. By all accounts, the Minotaur had no chance of growing out of its monstrous ways. Very quickly it turned into a man-eating beast with violent tendencies. How can it compare to another tragic myth like Medusa?

Generally, I think the fact it had no chance to begin with is tragic in and of itself. Medusa was a victim of divine crossfire between Athena and Poseidon, while the Minotaur was a victim of Divine Circumstance. Poseidon didn't care what became of the Minotaur after it was born, merely that it came into this world to torment Minos after he was slighted by the mortal. Perhaps there was a chance it could have overcome its base instincts, but the Minotaur was from the start designed and intended to be a horrifying beast.

It was despised by Minos from the moment it drew breath, and it certainly horrified the people of ancient Greece. It must have grown physically much faster than it did mentally, and with an unnatural mix of animalistic instinct and human mentality would have made it difficult to handle without being able to rip men and women limb from limb. It would spend the rest of its life wandering a dark maze, feasting on whoever Minos threw in there to survive.

I think the last point that gets me is that monsters don't have names. Minotaur is an anglicized version of its Greek name, Minotauros, meaning the Bull of Minos, which was a description of what it was but it also had a name; Asterion, after Minos' foster father. It was a half-animal that probably deserved to be put down, but in the end it was a thing that was brought into a world that would despise it and never had the chance to learn and be better.

It makes me wonder if the Minotaur being a mindless monster with no hope is the better option than a confused and neglected creature who had no choice but to become the beast his people saw him as.

[snowangeldotmp3]

okay but robin's first instinct in the rr:stud au being to yoink whoever's in danger to get them to safety is Pure Comedy if you bring the S5 apocalypse thing into account.

nancy's shooting demogorgons and demobats and demodogs and demo-creatures left and right and then robin grabs onto the back of her jacket and just YOINKS and throws her over her shoulder and just starts GUNNING IT outta there

"ROBIN DIANE BUCKLEY IF YOU DON'T PUT ME DOWN RIGHT FUCKING NOW—"

i love that we as a fandom have just decided robin's middle name (same with nancy shkdjh) robin diane buckley you are so real.

no but actually rr:stud au version of robin trying to yoink nancy from the danger she keeps throwing herself into trying to keep everyone safe. nancy's trying to shoot at anything and everything but robin knows when the demo-creatures are too overpowering and they don't have enough ammo for this!!! so robin's just like "yeah. no. we're outta here." and just. grabs nancy and bolts.

[caparrucia]

would Zhongli lay eggs if he had offspring?

If you mean in general and you're into it? Fuck it, sure. Why not. He's a fictional character and he exists purely for your entertainment. And if you have fic recs about it, sure, go nuts and share. I survived the Homestuck fandom, I'm always of the "Yeah, sure, why not?" persuasion when it comes to characters doing unusual things for sex and reproduction.

Have fun!

If you mean specifically the Zhongli I'm writing in this fic, the answer is no for two reasons, one of which is hysterical and the other an indictment of how much of a theology nerd I still am. To wit:

Number one (the funny one): He's not a dragon, my dude. He's a furry. A scaley even, might be the right terminology, I think? Furry friends, correct me if I'm wrong. Anyway, he made himself a dragon fursuit. Explicitly in the text. That's what the exuvia was. A very emotionally significant and symbolically charged dragon fursuit, but still a fursuit. He's not a dragon ascended into godhood, he's a god who showed himself in dragon form to humans. His true form is his humanoid form that matches the Statues of the Seven and the form he shows in, in most cutscenes about his past: black arms with geo veins in them and the most logic defying hoodie. The hoodie is actually the main reason I chose to make that his true form: he has a cutout for his fucking ponytail, if he had horns or any kind of interesting dragon features, you bet this dramatic moron would have designed the world's most impossible hood to both show them off and still work as a hood somehow.

Number two (the nerdy one): He's a god! Gods do not have the need to reproduce sexually at all, because they don't make more of themselves that way. (They can, however, make more of themselves, we've seen that, with Nahida and Focalors, but neither of those was sexual and neither of those was the same method.) It's an instinct they directly lack. That's not to say gods don't have sex or don't understand the concept of sex, or more egregiously that they don't understand the concept of romance and love. They do, to different degrees depending on the individual and their relationship with humans and other creatures who DO have sexual urges baked right into their cultures. I would put most of the Gods in Teyvat somewhere in the ace spectrum (except Venti, because it's Venti) but that's mostly a shorthand to explain that sex is not a thing that drives most of their relationships. It's also a fun excuse for them to get really freaky about sex, in general, because sex is completely divorced from reproduction, so if they're having sex at all, they're 100% doing it for fun. And if you've ever hung around the kink community, you'll know that's the environment that produces the weirdest fucking shit imaginable that ends up rewiring your brain in the process. It's great.

There's two kinds of gods in canon, and I've extrapolated from that both in this fic and the other fic that take place in the same shared verse. The first kind is gods who are born as gods, they did not ascend, they just... one day existed and they were the gods of the thing they are gods of. They are created from the faith and prayers of the people in the things they eventually become gods of. Zhongli is this type of god. Then, there's also gods who attained godhood: people and creatures who are not gods, who then, through their actions and the faith of people in them, turn into gods. Venti is the prime example.

I'm sure this distinction will at no point come back to bite anyone, ever, across the entire ficverse. /s

Like, if we're talking broad strokes, the main flaw with Zhongli is that he doesn't understand his own nature. Like the main driver for him, as a character, is that he's perpetually isolated from people. He's lonely. But he's always been the strongest god, the most powerful one, the one people treat with reverence and respect and therefore put massive walls and ritual and distance between him and them. He doesn't really have friends, besides Venti, because the people who know who he is venerate him to some degree (the Adepti, etc.) and the people who don't know who he is, he doesn't consider friends because it feels... fake, in a way. They're not friends with him, the real him, they're friends with the version of him they made up and isn't actually him.

The punchline is that every attempt Zhongli has made to close the gap between himself and others has instead widened it, up to and including changing the thing he's god of: he's the god of contracts, but that's not the thing he was born as, he was originally the god of the mountain: the largest one in Liyue, the one that loomed over everything and everyone worshiped at least a little. So when the loneliness gets to him and he comes down to the mountain to connect with people, he invents the concept of contracts to regulate their interactions, but that just means his powers just grow as people adopt the concept of contracts and their faith in him grows substantially. In the fic he's the one who illuminates the illuminated beasts: he takes what's essentially Guizhong's pet talking animal companions and raises them almost to godhood by giving up part of his power to them, turning them into Adepti. This was made in an attempt to create more of himself and simultaneously diminish himself back so they would all be equals. But it doesn't work, because the Adepti immediately turn around and worship him for it, swearing their power and their loyalty to him, which makes his power grow exponentially from that, so the companions he tried to make, the circle of friends he tried to build, turn instead into more worshipers that increase his power and treat him with respect and deference because they owe their existence to him. You can see how the Adepti - and the Yaksha - have really close bonds of friendship and affection with each other (and with Guizhong!) but when it comes to Zhongli, he's kept at arms length, mostly out of respect and reverence. He's always there as a figure of authority, a mediator, a leader, etc.

He's only ever met two people in the entirety of his life that have known he is a god, and moreover which god he is, and haven't worshiped him, even a little: Guizhong and Childe.

He hasn't, however, made that connection yet.

Expect it to hit him like a freight train when it does, it'll be fun.

I give you all that meandering ramble to say: Zhongli has issues with power structures and sex has never really existed outside that power structure for him. He's also still not understanding what kind of relationship Childe wants with him, and in his own dipshit moment, he just assumed it was sex: which is why they're not having sex right now. Childe is so offended at the idea that he refuses to engage, which means he's in a hell of his own making, because... I mean. LOOK at them. Zhongli hasn't been human long enough to fully appreciate the state of horny, but he will eventually be very, very confused because he's never been horny in his life. But let the man master the basics of hunger and sleep, before he gets on the advanced curriculum of "so you wanted to be a human and you fucked it up spectacularly."

In 100K-150K words, when they get their respective heads out of their respective asses about a fuckton of things and sex is actually a thing they're doing? Oh yeah. No. They're gonna get up to impressively kinky shit. It'll be fun.

[lilacs-and-memes]

My siblings and I were discussing which of our cats was free of sin. At first l thought of our black cat Jose. But he keeps trying to drink from the fish tank and will eat unattended food. Mayús our tuxedo led a reign of terror against our other poor cat Snowflake and also wants to eat the fish and doesn't care if we're witnesses. Snowflake our white fluffy cat is kinda mean and hits the other cats. Otherwise she is very calm and doesn't steal food from us.

Garrapatita was the winner. She is a creature. A single celled organism. Driven purely by instinct unaware of good or bad. She just enjoys the prosperity and comforts of being a house cat.

[sunny6677]

Spookytale

(An Undertale x Spooky Month crossover)

Chapter 2: Toriel.

Summary: After an incident involving the whole town getting hypnotized(besides Skid) and falling into a hole, all of them find themselves in a place that will change their life forever.

TWS: STREBER BEING A BIT OF A SASSY ASSHOLE, A BIT OF PROFANITY.

————

John and Jack had no idea what they were to do in this situation. They had almost been attacked by a sentient flower, a burst of fire summoned by some random humanoid goat creature had saved them, and now the local candy store clerk had fainted from pure shock of what he had witnessed. The first thing they had done though, upon instinct from being police officers, was to go ahead and check if Kevin's pulse was still running.

Of course, he had been okay. But they had come across many strange cases of people randomly passing out in their times of being officers that they always had an urge to make sure if someone was dead or not whenever they 'fainted'. And of course, it was also what was best to do in that type of situation.

But what they had not been expecting was.. for the ghost creature apparently named 'Toriel' to rush up along with them immediately a few seconds after Kevin had fainted. It merely stood behind them, but even so, even after they had done the usual procedure required for a fainted person(which was to lay them down, kneel by them, raise their legs and check their pulse. It would usually also include providing them with a source of air, but there was barely any air down in this mountain-like place.), the goat creature gently walked closer to Kevin and knelt down beside him. It had checked his pulse, and had asked if he was alright or if he was going to be alright.

John had to admit, the moment it knelt by him, his first instinct was to grab onto his gun(Jack had been about to do the same, though John ceased his hand from raising his pistol and aiming it at the creature). But.. something about this creature did not seem hostile, unlike the many other paranormal entities he and his partner had encountered. Even so, he still felt a sense of unease, especially after that flower creature had nearly hurt or maybe even killed them both.

What either of them had also not been expecting was for the sounds of rushing footsteps to be heard coming closer(after a sudden shout of Kevin's name was heard from a male voice) a few moments after Kevin had plummeted to the ground. A few seconds later, Strebers head poked through the doorframe, along with Ethan who was behind him. "Oh—Oh my god! Is he okay? Wha—" Streber had immediately asked, stepping foward. Then, Strebers eyes had laid upon 'Toriel', and he froze.

"What the hell is that?!" He shrieked, taking a step back with widened eyes and beads of sweat trickling down his face from the sheer anxiety of the sight. "Streber, don't get any closer.." Ethan had warned, pulling Streber back by his shoulder. "Of course I'm not gonna get any closer! I don't know what the hell that thing is!" Streber yelped in his usual sassy manner, though his face fell with guilt once he had said that to Ethan. John could have sworn he heard Streber mumble a quick unfinished apology to Ethan, though John found Toriel speaking before Streber could finish.

"Oh dear.. are you alright, human? You seem to be quite fearful of me.. fear not, I don't mean you any harm." The creature called Toriel had spoken, it's voice sounding feminine and almost soothing in a way. Like a mother soothing its child. It stood, gesturing with its gigantic paws as if to calm Streber's fear. For whatever reason, the creature did not appear offended or angered by Strebers rather sassy natured fear. "Ho—How do I know that?!" Streber raised his voice, getting in front of Ethan as if to protect him, "How do I know you're not gonna—"

"Stay calm, kid. Believe me, we're not gonna figure out anything if we keep yellin' at the top of our lungs like a bunch of rascals." John tried to say, standing up and gesturing with his hands as Jack lifted Kevin by his arms with an awkward expression on his face. Streber stood with his mouth agape for a moment, before yelping back, "How—How do you know that?! How the hell am I supposed to calm down when there's a literal monster right there?!"

Jack and John gave a stern look, and Ethan looked down at Streber with a somewhat disapproving expression.

Streber sighed, "Sorry, officer.. its just—"

"He doesn't know what's going on, officers. Frankly, I don't think any of us know what's going on.. we've been asking that ever since we got down here. Can you just tell us what happened so we have some idea of what's happening around here?" Ethan inquired, setting a hand on Strebers shoulder.

John sighed, "We will, we will. Will one of you go and tell the others to round up here?"

Streber was about to make a sassy remark, though one look from Ethan stopped him.

Of course, Ethan obliged, and Streber followed behind him as they both murmured unintelligible conversation to eachother, for it was muffled as they walked behind the wall.

Toriel had then suddenly questioned, "Erm.. this human will be alright, will they not? Do they need to be carried?" From what it seemed, it was referring to Kevin.

Jack paused, before saying with an unsure expression, "Uh, yeah.. he will be. What.. what are you?"

John was about to give a somewhat stern look, though it had only been out of fear of how the creature would react. Perhaps it was merely pretending to be nice so it could catch them off guard. Perhaps it was some strange abnormal paranormal entity which for some reason haunted this place.

"Oh.. do you not know? That is strange... I was sure all humans knew what monsters were." The creature inquired with an inquisitive tone.

"A... monster?" Jack repeated in an unsure voice.

"Ye.. Yes, I am a monster. This is the underground.. monsters live here. You.. you know what the underground is, do you not?" Toriel asked with a somewhat worried look in its eyes.

Neither of them knew how exactly to answer.

————

When everyone had entered the place in which John had requested for them all to round up in, Ethan and Streber had been standing in front of everyone. Of course, everyone who had not seen Toriel yet had a reaction that was expected. Collective gasps or comments were let out.

"What the hell is that?!" Roy would yell from somewhere in the group of people(to which Lila would reply, "Hey, language!"). Robert and Ross had been stunned into silence, though Robert tried asking what happened a few moments after, and he was unheard through the group of people in which he was stuck in. Jaune protectively held her son close, and as did Lila with her son. Susie pulled Pump closer, having an almost horrified expression on her face. But.. Skid and Pump didn't seem phased at all. In fact, they seemed amazed. Skid and Pump both had stars in their eyes, gasping in innocent astonishment with big fat grins plastered on their small faces which were hard to see due to their masks.

"Wow! It's a goat monster!" Pump would yell out in excitement. "Are you a ghost or something?!" Skid would question aloud with a child-like tone, seemingly curious and happy as per usual. Though Lila would shush him, telling him quietly to not speak to the creature of which she referred to as 'that thing'.

"Calm down, everyone. Everything's fine. But.. from what we can tell, this place ain't entirely safe." John announced, looking back at the green pit in the ground for a small moment, before setting his eyes back on everyone else in the group. "But.. this.. this creature here saved us." John grumbled softly, a little uncertain of his own words as he gestured to 'Toriel', who was much bigger than basically everyone else in the room. She had merely been at least 7 feet tall, or at the very least, a few inches taller than Jack had been.

"It.. what?" Roy uttered, seeming a bit stunned. Robert had asked, "A—Ar—Are you okay, man? What do you mean it saved you? What happened?" John tried to reply back in the softest voice he could muster toward his nephew, "It.. well.." He wasn't able to find the exact words.

"Oh dear... the underground sometimes has a bit of hostile monsters every now and then." Toriel spoke as some widened their eyes in slight surprise(seemingly shocked at the fact that it could apparently speak), "But worry not, I shall protect you all from any creature that may come and attempt harm on any of you."

Quiet murmurs spread among the group. Some facial expressions relaxed a little, though now some were mostly furrowing their brows or raising their brows. Some eyes widened as 'Toriel' spoke, most likely not hearing whatever it was saying. "You'll.. protect us?" Susie had asked, though she had not stopped holding Pump close. Pump had then yelled aloud, "Wow! We made a new friend already—" Susie promptly shushed him, her eyes widening.

Toriel let out what sounded like a soft chuckle, "Hehehe. Indeed, I will be your companion down here if you would all like me to." Toriel paused for a moment, before stepping foward, and saying, "I have not normally seen so many humans fall down here. Usually, it's just one who tends to fall down into this place."

"You mean.. people have fallen down here before?" Ethan inquired, tilting his head in curiosity. He seemed a bit more relaxed now, compared to everyone else. "Yes.. I'm afraid so. Sometimes, children will come up to this mountain despite the many warnings other humans will give them, and will fall down here regardless. But.. how on earth did all of you fall in a place like this? Normally, so many humans don't fall down here all at once." Toriel would question back, speaking in an almost kind tome of voice.

"Well.. that's hard to explain. Someone called 'Piper' returned and.." Jack barely managed to finish, turning back to look at the group of people standing before them. They had all stared on with raised brows or wide eyes, seemingly waiting for him to finish talking. After pausing, he simply muttered, "Nevermind.. but.. do you know any way out of here.... Toriel?" He spoke hesitantly, as if uncertain of that being Toriel's name despite it saying so.

"No.. I'm afraid that you all may be trapped down here." Toriel would say, looking down at the ground sadly. Collectively, some shouted "What?!" or said nothing at all, standing in shock as a few others murmured to the person standing beside them or near them. "Wh—What do you mean we're trapped down here?! Is there no way out?!" Lila shrieked.

"Oh dear.. I know you're all upset about your circumstances, humans. You have every right to be upset, I could not bare being told I was trapped somewhere which would not be my home after all." Toriel gently spoke, being somewhat inaudible among the murmurs of the group. "But fret not, I will not leave you all to stay here. I.. will find you all a place to stay. There might need to be some arrangements about where you all are going to be sleeping though.."

"You'll.. let us live here? Bu—But we.. we can't. We all have families and lives we need to get back to!" Lila would say, gesturing with her hands wildy as she spoke with her lips quivering. "Dear human.. I am afraid this may be the only way. I.. I can not let you all stay out here with no shelter or providence of care. It would not be right of me to do so." Toriel replied, having a sympathetic glisten inside of its shimmering red pupils.

The group went silent. What would become of them? Would other humans know about their vanishing? Would there be any investigations done? Perhaps other humans would come for them? Even so, the situation seemed so hopeless despite all of the possibilities of help arriving.. what were they to do in this creatures care? Why was this creature being.. so nice to them?

"Hmmm.. here. Why don't you all live with me for now? I have a home down here somewhere.. I'm afraid it'll be a little cramped, but it's probably the only place in The Ruins that you may be able to stay in for now." Toriel said, it's eyes wistful and half-lidded with a strong sense of motherly care.

Some were heard asking what 'The Ruins' was, but others would speak of what Toriel had suggested(Skid and Pump would shout in excitement though, to which Lila and Susie had shushed them both, though Roy was heard telling them both to shut up from a distance.). "Really? You'd let us all.. stay in your house?" Jack had questioned, raising a brow.

"Yes, of course.. I wouldn't want to leave you all out here without any sort of shelter. Hmmm.." Toriel took a few steps closer to Jack, and softly grabbed Kevin, which made Jack instinctively flinch in slight anxiety(though something about this creature was.. trust-worthy. He wasn't sure why.). But.. Toriel had simply scooped up Kevin in her arms, and began carrying him almost like a mother cradling an infant. "Why don't I carry this human while I guide you all through the catacombs? I'm sure it would be exhausting to carry someone else all the way to my home.. and I don't want you to perhaps pass out as well."

Jack did not speak for a moment, his eyes widening in soft surprise. A small smile formed on his lips, and he replied, "Re—Really? Heh.. thanks.. ma'am." He spoke uncertainly. "Yo—You.. don't mind being called that, right?"

Toriel softly laughed in return, "Not at all. Call me whatever you like, human."

The slightly goofy smile on Jack's face did not fade, a simple act of kindness making him feel a weird sense of.. euphoria. Obviously, he had met kind people in his life, though he never met someone as kind as this random creature before.

"Now then, come," Toriel spoke while glancing at everyone, "I will guide you all through the catacombs. This way." Toriel then began to slowly walk toward what looked to be a door hidden behind the light which once glowed upon the flower from earlier, while still carrying Kevin in her giant arms.

Soft murmurs were heard among the group for a split moment. Some were uncertain of the situation, and some were uncertain of whether to follow or not. But due to the seemingly nice monster who had walked before them, they reluctantly followed as told. "Woah! Do you think we're gonna live here forever, mom?" Skid grinned up at Lila. Lila spoke in return with a dim and saddened voice, "I.. I don't know, son." Absolutely, you could see she was beginning to lose hope of any escape. Pump said something similar to what Skid had said, though his had been directed at Susie, and he commented on how 'cool' the 'goat lady' looked. Susie gave no exact reply, seeming unsure of how to answer.

Roy and Robert stayed close beside eachother, making unintelligible worried conversation. Jaune followed behind Ross, murmuring forced comforts to her son who already knew there would be no escape out of this place. Ethan and Streber spoke with eachother, though Streber remarked, "Are we seriously just gonna follow that thing?! What if it's tricking us?!" It was clear that the impact of.. the incident had left a mark on his trust. "I don't know, dude. I guess we'll have to find out if it is or not.." Ethan replied softly, staring down at the floor as he walked, to which Streber had began to ask if he were okay.

John whispered to Jack, "Are we seriously gonna trust that thing, Jack? You know it could be tricking us.."

Jack replied in an equally whispered tone, "I don't know.. if it's tricking us, we might have to use our fists. My guns jammed, and I don't know if yours is either. Besides.. I'm sure it'll be fine. We're cops, we can handle this. We've handled a bunch of weirdos in red coats before, right? I'm sure we can handle this."

John sighed, "Yeah, but have we handled a humanoid goat monster before? We don't know what that thing has up its sleeves, Jack.. we gotta be more careful."

Jack paused, before saying, "Well.. I don't know, John. But.. I'm sure we'll figure it out. After all, I'm here, right? We have eachother, so we don't have to worry.."

John paused as well, before barely managing to muster a smile, replying, "Yeah.. I guess we do. Let's just hope nothing bad happens.. I dont wanna lose you now."

Jack laughed gently, "You won't."

As Toriel walked into the door, the group followed behind, beginning their journey.

////////////////////

SPENT TWO HOURS ON THIS TOO HOLY SHIT

[alexissara]

Why Hunt Monsters?

in TTRPGs the default standard mode of play is to fight monsters. In many ways this is thanks to D&D but this is replicated in many TTRPGs. I wanted to explore this common TTRPG, Video game and fictional trope of the "monster hunter" and really break down my thoughts on this topic.

The Reasons People Hunt Monsters

"Their Evil" is the most basic Lord Of The Rings ass reason for killing a monster. They are born evil, spawned of evil, they can never be anything but evil. These arguments count on you believing in the ability for something to be evil, to exist purely for malice. These both ask you to accept that an individual can be evil but also a whole race of people can be evil.

"Their Animals" is another approach taken for monster hunting media. A wild animal is dangerous so you are always justified with killing the animal just living it's life. Perhaps it's stricter and requires the use of it for food, cloths, etc in the way hunters might use an animal they have killed. This concept does require one to believe in killing animals and that animals are ultimately lesser life then the lives of your characters.

"Their Present Danger" Maybe these monsters evil or animal or neutral morally are simply a present danger to people. If they are people then they can't be reasoned with, there is no means of peace, you simply must enter a phase of violence against them even if you don't take issue with their wider existence. If they are animal then we must believe this land you are on did not belong to the animal, that it living it's natural life is unjustice and that protecting the lives of the people or yourself is more valuable then the life of the other living creature.

These three reasons take up the core logic behind monster hunters, monster slayers, adventuring parties, and more. I want to examine this and talk more in depth about the ways that these interactions with fictional life interact with the ways with think about real life.

The Dangers Of Minimizing Life

You may say that I am stretching when I say that to treat fictional monsters who have sentience as worthy of killing teaches us to feel the same way about humans, I don't think it is. We see this exactly mode of play replicated through many other TTRPGs. Games like Sentinels Of The Multiverse RPG and Mutants and Master Minds also work on treating people with lives and thoughts, families and friends as monsters. Their XP to be farmed, obstacles to be overcame. Maybe you don't kill the henchmen like you do a Goblin but mechanically you do functionally the same.

Sentinels Of The Multiverse RPG a fairly recent Super Hero TTRPG has fucking Rioters as a standard enemy they designed for you to kick the ass of. Any of the three core reasons people hunt monsters still lead to a mechanical similarity to this outlook. For instance it has been said by people smarter than me that the way we treat animals is the way we treat people we dehumanize. So it's easy for many to see a marginalized person lashing out at a world killing their people and see them as equal to a feral alligators let loose on the city. However, that person is justified at being angry and doing things to try and make the world better and the Alligator, it's just trying to live.

When We're Evil

If evil exists and it is in somethings nature, a simple core part of their function, unchangeable and unavoidable, their fate to be a piece of shit, can they really be blamed? Is a thing born of evil any different then any animal running on gut instinct? They can't help it right, it is who they are, who they will always be, then can they really be blamed for their sins? These questions basically move us back to "animal talk" and that's part of the point. Inherent evilness reduces people to animals, to beasts and those people have decided that being an animal is enough to justify your slaughter.

Inherit evilness is a tool of the racist, homophobic, transphobic, sexist powers of be. From demonizing witches to Jewish people to trans people to queers even the word for what has been done to these communities implies it is making a monster out of them. In fact many monsters have their commonly coded traits from marginalized people's of their historical times. Those who were oppressed, they were turned into monsters, their stereotyped features enhanced into a fantasy version of the bigoted image of hate. So many of these things in fiction seen as inherently evil are also based on what the people through the years are based on these oppressed peoples.

Even the simple belief that a whole group of people connected only by birth could be evil is fuel in a fash fire. Even taking some "evil occupations" can be coding in these same stereotypes like many of witch stereotypes are taken from Black, Jewish, and Romani women. So in worlds where witches are always evil it is often taking religious and cultural practice's from these groups and declaring those to be the signifies of evil. Obviously there is real life jobs that are pretty evil but they actually require human suffering and they translate across cultures, sexualities, genders, etc as always being harmful to others.

That is to say that when we look at evil itself as a concept we need to challenge it. What is evil, who is evil, what about these people are evil, and is this so called evil based on stereotypes or bullying marginalized people?

We Can Change

We also have to ask what we are saying about the ability to change, about free will and our hearts. If someone is a danger, if someone is evil, if someone is an animal can we not find ways to work things out, to co-exist, to help them grow, to help them change? Their is obviously times where violence is needed, that is clear but when we are looking at monsters and what is "inherit" why are they not afforded the same consideration as those we consider to be "basically human".

I personally prefer to live in a world where people can change, where things can get better, where things aren't decided by the divine above us but instead we chose our own fates. An inherit dark nature, an inherent reason to end the life of something removes what makes life great, that free will. If you believe in change then why not believe in it when your blade is drawn at a monster?

Empathetic Models

This has all been to say that I believe we should be looking at ways to make more empathetic models and modes of play. Killing a hoard of Orcs isn't what an action game has to be let alone a game. We can look to all sorts of art to see these alternative structures. On one end we have something like Monster Hunter Stories 2 which takes a more indigenous approach to the monsters and the ways the characters relate to them. Then another we have a show like Steven Universe which believes in the kindness and ability to be redeemed in everything. We have plenty more examples of different approaches Pokemon, Digimon, Undertale, Deltarune, Thirsty Sword Lesbians, Monster Care Squad, Wanderhome, and more to build from.

I want to see empathy and more thoughtful violence built on in the same ways the thoughtless violence of Lord Of The Rings and D&D were for so many years. We could have so many cool and amazing things if we managed to focus in and build more and more models for what engaging with the world.

If you enjoyed my thoughts maybe consider throwing me some money over on Patreon or Ko-fi.

[lemariee]

Chapter 20

"How much longer do you think it will be till we come across a fairy Gerda? It's starting to grow cold out." Finn asked with his arms wrapped around himself as he lightly shivered.

"I say soon, surely they're out here somewhere. We just have to keep our eyes and ears open in case they're hiding." Gerda responded with her observant eyes looking around ahead of her.

"I wonder if they're as beautiful as the books claim they are. I can't wait to finally see one up close." Finn said with a smile on his small face earning a giggle from a young Gerda.

"I suppose they are but then again no one has actually come to face one, we're going off pure imagination of course." Gerda said as she grinned at her young brother.

Just then the sound of leaves loudly brustling in the wind halted their steps with their heads looking around in curiosity. Gerda glanced at Finn who was searching around for the source of the sound. The noise then appeared to grow closer causing her young brother to instantly run to Gerda and grab her hand in caution.

"What was that?" He whispered in a small voice that made Gerda's protective instincts kick in.

"I don't know but stay close and do not let go of my hand." Gerda instructed with her grip pulling Finn close.

They both jumped when a loud crack of wood suddenly came from behind. They quickly turned around and Finn screamed when an enormous, deadly tree creature slowly towered over them in a threatening manner. Gerda pulled Finn behind her knowing the best move to do was run.

"Finn run now!" Gerda yelled causing the tree to let out an angry roar sound with branch like arms rising.

They immediately darted away from the tree with their little legs struggling to jump over bumps, and fallen branches beneath them. Gerda being the oldest was naturally the fastest and her young, naive mind assumed her brother was right behind her. She ran until her lungs struggled to take in air which in turn led to her collapsing onto the ground.

It was the silence that brought her attention to the dark surroundings that seemed to go on forever. She desperately searched around for her baby brother but soon realized that he was no where to be seen. She shakenly stood up when the sudden feeling of panic came upon her.

"Finn! Finn! Where are you!?" Gerda screamed out with her body gasping for air from both panic and fear.

She walked back to where they found the tree monster, occasionally screaming out her brothers name hoping he would respond. The screams then turned into cries with a steady flow of tears running down her red cheeks. After some time Gerda fell to the ground until the sound of a young boy crying caught her attention.

She instantly stood up from her position and followed the cries until she caught sight of a familiar ginger head of hair. Gerda quickly ran over and immediately hugged her frightened little brother who continued crying into her shoulder.

"G-Gerda you shouldn't have came back." The boy said slightly pulling away to look at Gerda's face.

"Of course I would come back, I promised to always protect you Finn and I don't plan on breaking it." Gerda responded with her hands gripping her brothers shoulders in a assuring manner.

"No Gerda...it's a t-trap. The monster is here." Finn whispered with wide, watery eyes that caused Gerda to instantly stiffen.

She then looked around and yelped when she noticed a set of roots moving beneath their feet until it wrapped itself around them. Both children screamed as their tiny bodies slowly became held in place with little movement being allowed. Gerda gripped onto her brothers hand in a attempt to calm him. Their hands were untangled as the branches separated them from each other.

"Listen to me Finn, do not be afraid I'm here. I'm not going anywhere!" Gerda told her brother knowing that she might die along with him.

"G-Gerda I'm scared! I don't want to die! Please don't let me die!" Her brother pleaded with tears flowing down his cheeks.

"I promise I won't, even if I have to let the monster take me first!" Gerda said with her heart pounding in fear.

Gerda woke up gasping for air with her heart banging against her chest. She reached down to her waist almost expecting to find gripping roots smothering her. She sighed in relief when she realized they weren't there. Her hand lightly brushed over her face wiping sweat off but then paused when she felt wetness beneath her eyes.

She brought her hand down and noticed the glistening texture on her finger tips that appeared to be fresh tears. Gerda quickly wiped the remaining tears off her face feeling her body slowly calm down. She stood up from her bed and walked over to the massive window in her room. Her gaze took notice of the sun rising which meant it was in the very early hours of the day.

She couldn't help but brood over her disturbing dream that brought her back to an extremely dark period of her life. The familiar images of ginger hair and fearful, teary eyes of someone that meant the world to her kept replaying in her mind. Gerda held back tears that threatened to escape her eyes and swallowed the growing lump in her throat. Now was not the time or place to be reminiscing on such long forgotten memories.

Her eyes jerked away from the window when she heard a light knock at her door. She quickly blinked away her tears once the door opened. Thankfully she recognized that knock which meant she was free from being judged by Rayne.

"You're up early, did you get any sleep at all?" Celtra asked with her inquisitive stare on Gerda.

"Yes, just had some unwelcoming dreams that's all." Gerda promptly responded adverting her gaze down to the cream colored dress in Celtra's hands.

"What's that?" Gerda asked with her eyes studying the clothing item with suspicion.

"A clean dress is what it is, now head to the bath, I would like to try out a new hairstyle on you." Celtra said with a playful smile knowing how much Gerda disliked being dressed up.

Gerda groaned in annoyance and rolled her eyes wondering what she's expected to wear now. She huffed her way into the bathroom area and began her daily routine that she typically would do back at the cave. She paused, turning to Celtra when she noticed she wasn't being followed.

"I thought I wasn't allowed to bathe by myself?" Gerda asked feeling confused.

"I trust that you are capable of cleansing yourself without my help, I assume it's time you gain back a bit of earned privacy. I will be out here when you're finished." Celtra explained earning a small smile from Gerda who then turned and closed the door behind her.

She felt a prick of happiness when she realized that for the first time in a while she would be allowed to bathe without supervision. Her feet walked over to the small fountain that contained an endless flow of fresh water. Inside a wooden cup contained a tiny brown bristled brush for her teeth. She recalled the familiar brush knowing it's purpose since oral care was something she always kept up with.

Gerda picked up the brush and dipped it into a clear, sticky substance that smelled of mint. She brushed over her teeth and tongue until she felt that her mouth was clean enough. She then stripped out her thin gown and sat inside a tub full of bubbled water that held a floral scent to it.

After a while of soaking and cleansing herself, she stood up and walked over to a table with a large soft rag set on it. Gerda quickly dried herself and walked out the bathroom with the large rag wrapped around her body.

"I was beginning to worry that you had drowned yourself in there. Come quickly, we are requested to come down for breakfast." Celtra hastily stated as she rushed over and handed Gerda the dress.

"Put this on and please do it quick, I don't want to deal with Rayne lecturing me for running late." Celtra said with Gerda throwing on the dress over her head.

Celtra then reached over and adjusted the dress till it was properly laid out on Gerda's body. Before Gerda could protest the exposed shoulders and bustline, Celtra wrapped a corset around her waist. She forcefully tightened it till her breasts were pushed up.

Just like her other dress, this one was made to lightly caress her hips before loosely flowing down to her ankles. However, despite her shoulders being exposed it ruffled down to her elbow. What bothered her the most was in fact the corset. It tightly flaunted the thin curves of her waist. She grimaced at how it propped her bust up in a way that was far too improper for her taste.

Celtra then grabbed the towel and attempted to dry off her hair before brushing over it. Gerda hissed when she bluntly went over a few knots. After her hair was somewhat dried Celtra pulled out a clip with tiny pearls on it and pinned back one side of her hair. She allowed the other side to freely flow with loose tangerine curls caressing her face.

"Perfect as usual, I should be paid extra for being able to bring out such detailed features on you." Celtra said nodding her head in approval.

"I feel like a whore ready to do work in some fancy brothel, is there a reason why I must always be exposed in such a manner? I would like to know who is in charge of my wardrobe because clearly this wasn't Borra's doing." Gerda complained with a frown.

"He has entrusted those duties to me, now come along before the guards come looking for us." Celtra quickly said before pulling Gerda's wrist and dragging her out the door.

Gerda felt a rush of irritation when Celtra admitted to being the one who was responsible for dressing her. She would certainly address the issue with her later. Her feet carefully followed Celtra as she continued being dragged at a fast pace. The two ran through the halls nearly bumping into servants who lectured them from behind.

Just as Gerda was about to scorn Celtra for putting her through hell, she stopped herself once they reached the doors to the dining area. She gulped with a nervous gaze as the doors proceeded to open for Celtra. Her face quickly took on a blank expression as the two entered the hall that was filled with chatter and laughter.

The voices quieted down with heads turning to look in their direction. Celtra politely nodded at them with an apologetic smile. Gerda silently walked behind with her head held high as her eyes focused on the back of Celtra's wings. Thankfully her wings managed to conceal most of Gerda. She was unable to see Borra which meant he too was not able to see her.

"Mind stating the purpose of you running late?" Borra questioned with his stern voice echoing throughout the large hall.

Gerda glanced around and noticed several men openly eyeing her in a way that made her self-conscious. Some of their stares varied from either curiosity or scrutiny. However, there were still a few who dared observe her with lust. They quickly averted their attention when they caught the disapproving glares of their female counterparts. She couldn't help but feel gratitude towards the women for keeping them in check.

"I apologize for such tardiness...I had lost track of time." Celtra shyly explained, taking the blame for Gerda’s doing.

"Let's not make this a habit, now take a seat." Borra instructed with an irritated tone to his smooth voice before the hall started to slowly gain back its noise.

The halls occupants gradually returned back to their conversations. Gerda felt a wave of panic once Celtra moved to sit down. She swiftly strolled over to the spot she was directed to stand at yesterday. Her hands rested behind her lower back with them tightly clasped together. This very stance was what she commonly used to show a position of strength and authority back in Ulstead. However, underneath it she was beyond anxious.

Gerda kept her chin up ignoring the stubborn loose curls that lightly caressed one side of her face. She wanted to be invisible but it was impossible. Unfortunately for her, the sun beamed through all the large windows. It relentlessly highlighted every detail of Gerda creating a soft glare behind her.

Her eyes flickered over to Borra before quickly blinking away when she noticed him scanning her over with an attentive gaze. A sense of dismay washed over her as his eyes continued surveying her. She nearly grimaced when she caught sight of Celtra throwing her a mischievous smirk.

Her cheeks heated up, feeling Borra's eyes practically burning holes into her body and she didn't understand why. She took one final glance at him noticing how he hastily shifted his attention away from her, recovering from his brief distraction. He cleared his throat before regaining his composure and joined in the conversation with the sitting fey.

Gerda observed the table and noticed the sharp, keen eyes of Rayne who gave her a warning glare. Gerda returned her glare, already growing tired of the aggravating creature. She was certainly not afraid of the girl and did not care that she was physically weaker than the creature. Hand her a sword or crossbow and she would easily take down the winged beast. Even if wielding a sword was not her skilled strength.

Her stomach started twisting from hunger when the smell of fresh eggs, bacon, and other dishes lingered in the air. Gerda silently stood with her growing hunger as the fey ate, not caring about how long they took. She stared at them with envy. Her hands felt the urge to grab their silver forks and shove it down their throats. Borra certainly knew what he was doing when he placed these ridiculous rules on her. It was his sadistic way of punishing her.

Her irritation rose when she kept catching several men taking peeks at her every once in a while. Gerda would attempt to sway their attention away by glaring at them with cold, agitated eyes. She wanted to proudly remind them who she was and didn't care what the consequences would be.

Gerda had spent the remaining time standing off to the side like some statue with her presence being ignored. She couldn't bring herself to glance at Borra's direction even when she heard his voice speak to the other fey. She would occasionally stare at the clear blue sky outside the windows or focus on some random set of wings trying to point out an ugly feature.

Her eyes couldn't help but marvel at the various blend of colors on Strike's wings. However, she thought back to the mixture of browns on Borra's and found his to be somewhat more captivating. They held a gold-like shimmer when exposed to the sun, a feature that stood out from the rest of his kind. However, they often appeared untamed as if he never properly took care of them. Gerda nearly rolled her eyes when she realized she was actually bored to the point of comparing wings with all the creatures in the room.

She would at times try listening into their active conversations but there was no point when their topics pertained to nothing of importance. It was as if their meal times were preserved for letting go of their concerns and missions that Borra had tasked them with. By time they were finished eating Gerda felt famished with hunger. She sighed in relief when the sound of chairs moving vibrated throughout the hall. Her attention fell upon Celtra who quietly had her eyes set on Udo.

Gerda felt a small smirk form on her face when she noticed how Celtra shyly gazed upon him with interest. She was looking forward to pressing her about the hidden feelings she must've held towards him. Her thoughts were then interrupted when she noticed some of the fey leaving. Others lingered around engaging in laughter and conversations while standing.

"I'm beginning to wonder if I should be wary of your sudden change in behavior today. Have you finally accepted your place here?" Borra's smooth raspy voice said, disrupting Gerda's observations.

Her head turned to meet the amber eyes of Borra who startled her with his sudden appearance. She almost frowned after noticing how he only stood two feet away from her. Her eyes briefly studied him. She noted how amplified his features were from the sunlight that gleamed from the windows behind her.

"I assume you mean me accepting the fate of being a human slave or pet as you offen like to call me. The answer is no, I simply find myself bored passing time by trying to decide whose wings are more hideous. I've came to the conclusion that yours stand out the most in that category." Gerda responded with an uncaring tone.

The sound of Borra lightly chuckling at Gerdas blunt comment took her by surprise. She glanced up at his sharp face noticing the humor that took place of where a snare should be. It was her intention to offend him but instead she brought him humor.

"Here I was thinking I had successfully tamed you, what a disappointment." Borra sarcastically said with teasing eyes.

"I'm not one to easily be tamed so perhaps you should accept that. As I had clearly said before, I fear no one. Not even 'you'." Gerda flatly pointed out with a smug tone that only appeared to pique Borra's interest some more.

"Stubborn, unyielding, and fearless. Perhaps that's what separates you from the rest of your kind though it's traits I find troublesome for a slave to possess. Now, what am I to do with you since you still seem to have a lot of fight left inside." Borra smoothly said with a calculating gaze that observed Gerda.

"How about stop treating me like a slave or is this your own way of trying to prove to your people that you're capable of being a sufficient leader. I'm sure the last one left quite the name to live up to." Gerda nonchalantly said with her eyes holding Borra's gaze.

Her words appeared to have displeased him, causing his gaze to solidify with his jaw clenching. She felt perturbed when the amber in his eyes slowly changed into a golden color. It was odd to see up close and piqued her curiosity as to why his eyes constantly changed colors. Gerda fixed her composure into one of resilience knowing that she might have just crossed a boundary.

"That's what you are to me, a human slave unless you prefer to be treated like the prisoner your people had originally labeled you as. I have no issue with locking you below in a filthy, dark dungeon for the rest of your pathetic life. You should be grateful that I chose to allow you to thrive out in the open when it was 'your' kind who murdered my previous leader." Borra harshly stated with hostility in his golden eyes.

Gerda shifted her gaze away from his with a sense of guilt. She was the one who took part in the slaughter of his previous leader. Had he been aware of her role in it, she would've been killed the moment he first set eyes upon her. It was troubling enough that she had ruthlessly took out many of his people in the past yet he overlooked it. She realized it was best to choose her next words wisely. She glanced back up into his eyes with her heart slightly picking up its pace.

"I-I apologize if my words had offended you...I suppose my hunger is getting the best of me." Gerda softly admitted feeling irritated with her loose tongue.

Her pride took a hit for having to apologize to him. It was something she never did for anyone. Borra's anger then faltered. He seemed to be taken aback by her unexpected apology. He momentarily searched her face with a cautious expression almost as if he was questioning the sincerity in her apology. Borra looked to the table with his eyes landing on Celtra. She appeared to have been watching the entire encounter between Gerda and Borra.

"Take her to her room to be fed, I'll request her presence to accompany me if I deem it necessary." Borra ordered before turning to leave the hall.

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

Just the Two of Us - Chapter 1

Wahoo! First chapter of that new story of mine! I wanted to try something different for this first chapter. Less exposition and more straight to the point. We'll get to learn more about Vee and other stuff in future chapters, but for now I wanted to lay out the first meeting.

Events are after the 2nd movie. Dunno exactly how long after, but it's been some time for sure. Please note that all characters are depicted as adults. Mature subjects may come in later chapters (nsfw, of course language 'cause I have the mouth of a fucking sailor, deep emotional stuff, most probably some intense action and blood - 'cause this mama loves to be intense). There's gonna be some humor too, don't worry~

I've started this fic first for myself, but I was liking the various drafts I did and I wanted to share 💜

Title is inspired by the song "Just the Two of Us" by Grover Washington.

[First Chapter - you're here!] // [Next Chapter - incoming]

And in an instant my soul trembled Meeting your eyes didn't feel like the first time Deep within me I knew - I simply knew That forever I'd be entranced by you

There was something about this late August's night that felt different.

Maybe it was this warmth that had some moisture lingering in the air. Or this surreal feeling that was now creeping under Vee's skin as her friend April was leading her into a dark alley. Who knows, really.

"You have to promise me, Vee. You must keep this encounter a secret. Never tell anyone about what you're going to see."

When the reporter had asked for help regarding friends that needed a hand with translation issues, of course Vee accepted. But now the woman was slowly starting to second-guess her choice. She knew April had no mean bone in her however, trusting her then feeling like the right thing to do...

"I dunno why it's getting so serious all of a sudden, but I promise you, April."

"And I know you'll keep that promise," added the brunette with a soft smile.

Their heels' clicking came to a stop against the pavement, the reporter taking some seconds to check her surroundings before bringing a watch to her left wrist up, pressing a button and saying: "It's alright, we're ready." Vee slightly frowned at that action until she heard movement from above, some things now falling and moving in the shadows of the alley.

"Now, Vee, please don't freak out," instantly tried to reassure April, placing herself before her friend and trying to keep Vee's focus on her. "I assure you, they're friends."

Now the intrigue was killing Vee's curiosity, her gaze moving from April's, now finally noticing new forms appearing in the dim lights of the alley. The first shape was already impressive in size, piercing blue eyes going straight across her soul. She noticed green scales, a blue bandana, a shell?! Vee's eyes were wide open as her mouth simply opened and closed like a fish out of water, unable to form words. She shyly pointed out at the creature, grabbing her friend's arm out of pure instinct.

"It's alright, Vee," added April.

Other forms came forward, their looks different, yet all sharing those reptilian features. Orange, red, and purple bandanas added to the blue. All were staring at Vee, silent, trying to judge her reaction - afraid she'd be scared, most probably. Vee finally found back her voice, slight gasps of air exhaling from her lungs. She couldn't help her smile, slightly shaking her friend's arm she was still holding, blurting out in exclamation:

"Holy shit!!"

She moved away from April and now forward to the newcomers. She did keep her distance, not wanting to provoke any harsh reactions. Her eyes could barely stay in place, noticing new details on each individual she'd look at.

"April, what the fuck!" she added, turning to the brunette. "Your friends look awesome!"

"Told ya April has hot friends and this one looks cool," piped one of the creatures - the orange one - towards the red one, which resulted in some tsks and a playful slap on his shoulder.

"You're not scared?" asked April, moving to stand close to her friend again.

"Well, I mean..." Vee took another glance at the four, vaguely gesturing them. "I guess I'm more... surprised?! It's not everyday you see- … see, uh.." she paused, frowning a little, hands on her hips. "What are you guys, anyway?"

That brought some smiles on their faces, tension finally easing. The blue one spoke first:

"We are mutant ninja turtles, ma'am," he answered with one polite nod.

"Oh sure, that makes sense," acknowledged Vee, still frowning.

Her brain was running a hundred miles per second, trying to assess everything. They were giant speaking turtles, for crying out loud! Most people would've ran away at the sight of them, but Vee felt nothing else than pure fascination at the moment. And knowing they were friends with April, that did facilitate the encounter.

"So, April, that's the friend you spoke about?" brought up another mutant, the one wearing a red do-rag.

"Oh, yes, right, let me do the presentations," started the reporter, finally getting in motion. She first gestured around Vee's frame: "Guys, this is Vee!" She next started from left to right, the first one being the turtle wearing an orange bandana: "So this is Michelangelo-"

"Call me Mikey, sweetface," he quickly added, winking.

"Don't cut me, Mikey, that's rude," playfully bantered April, then moving to the red one. "This one's Raphael. Don't worry, he looks like a brute but he's really sweet."

"Depends on who yer askin'," smirked the large one.

"Now that's Leonardo, their leader, and finally over here we've got Donatello. You'll mostly be working with him for the task at hand."

Vee's eyes followed suit and landed on the tall terrapin adorning a purple bandana. Compared to the others he was slimmer in frame, wore glasses and presented various tech on his person. Vee paid no mind as she moved towards him, extending her hand as a greeting, out of pure formality and habit.

"Hi! I look forward to getting started."

The other paused for a second, his gaze glued to her hand. He only got in motion once April gently elbowed him, finally holding Vee's hand to return the greeting.

"Likewise."

A strong shiver went through Vee, seeing how her hand looked so small in his. Her green eyes crossed his golden ones, the exchange quickly over.

"So," started Leonardo. "April told us you can help us translate things from French to English. That's correct?"

"Yes," answered Vee with a smile. "It's my first language, I won't have any issues with that."

"You don't sound French at all," added Michelangelo. "Where's your accent?"

"Oh, sorry I don't sound like a movie stereotype," added the woman with slight annoyance, although playful. "I've been learning and speaking English from a very young age, since in Canada both English and French are the two offical languages."

"Wait, they speak French in Canada? I thought you'd be from France or somethin'!" continued the orange one.

"Welp, we all learn something new everyday!" pointed Vee.

And boy was she learning something completely new today.

***

Of all the places she thought she'd go to tonight, Vee didn't think it'd be in the sewers. The group was making its way through large undisturbed canals, April in front and discussing with Leo and Raph. As Vee was behind with Mikey and Donnie, she did start a conversation with the latter in order to be up to speed with the project.

"So, what am I going to work with? Should I wait until we get to the place before I get more details, or-?"

"You're totally gonna do some super secret spy stuff," said Mikey right away, playfully.

"Well, not totally," objected Donatello with a soft sigh, his attention now on Vee. "If I may brief you a little; we've intercepted communications from an enemy-"

"The Foot clan!"

"-Yes the Foot, thanks Mikey. And they seem to have developped an alliance with someone overseas, speaking French. All conversations are in audio form. I've tried to learn the language, but we're in a rush and I must admit that it's been kind of hard."

"Understandable, French is one hell of a language to learn," softly smiled Vee.

"And I didn't want to put those files through online translation services, as the information's nature is still unknown and I wouldn't want to risk any leaks of it. … Then April suggested you, and here we are."

"Here we are, indeed," added the woman. "It shouldn't be too difficult. My only concern would be regarding terms or keywords that are unknown to me; anything that may not be too familiar to me regarding this whole situation. But given the time, I could probably get through anything."

"Hey, by the way," said Mikey, diverting the subject a little. "Is your name really Vee? Sounds more like a nickname to me."

"Well aren't you the rude one tonight," slightly frowned Donnie.

"What?! I'm genuinely curious!"

Vee was still smiling: "No worries, it's not rude to ask! Indeed it's a nickname, since my full name can be quite a mouthful for English speakers at times. It's Véronique."

"Say what now?" added Mikey.

The woman couldn't hide her small laugh: "See! That's the kind of reaction I get everytime. That's why I tell people to call me Vee. Short and sweet!"

"Your name sounds beautiful though, what a shame," commented Donnie.

"Eyo, stop flirtin' back there," piped in Raph.

Mikey's chuckle echoed in the tunnel while Donnie's eyes rolled. They finally arrived to their destination; the Lair. Vee was instantly amazed as she witnessed the size of the place, all filled with interesting objects here and there.

"No way!" she breathed out with a large smile. "This place's amazing!"

That did boost the turtles' mood, enjoying to see such reaction from the woman. It was refreshing to meet someone new and see their fascination regarding their world.

"Where's Splinter?" asked April.

"He's out for the night to salvage some stuff for himself," answered Leonardo. "Plus he wanted to give us space for the newcomer."

"Didn't want to recreate a Casey situation?" added the brunette, amused.

"Oh I wish," chuckled Raph.

As the group was still moving forward, Vee leaned in to April, asking:

"Who's Splinter?"

"Their father and sensei. He's a rat."

"Oh! Of course...," added Vee as if it was normal, although intrigued.

They arrived to a workstation, many screens assembled to create a sort of digital alcove. Vee was instantly charmed, getting past her friend so she could get closer to the setup and admire it.

"Holy shit! Now that's a nice setup," she recognized, hands on her hips and looking up the screens.

"Finally, someone recognizes my creation," added Donnie, amused.

She turned to him.

"… Did you build all that by yourself? I mean … that's impressive! Is it only one computer? Or the machine must be a beast in order to support all those screens! And it must be quite the challenge to organize the desktop to spread on such a dome-like setup. What OS are you using? Windows? Linux? I hope it's not Apple, that stuff is a nightmare.-"

She stopped herself, a light blush appearing on her cheeks.

"Oh, uhm, sorry I'm asking a lot of questions."

Man, Donnie's heart was suddenly beating fast...

"Please, don't apologize, you're probably the first person ever to be curious about my stuff!"

"Nerds alert," poked in Mikey.

That brought some laughs from the others, Donnie and Vee shyly smiling. The tall terrapin then moved to his computer, trying to shake away the feeling as he brought the files up.

"Do you want to give it a first listen and see what's up?" he asked the woman, trying to ignore the others behind.

"Yes, please," answered Vee, coming closer and wanting to get on the task at hand.

As the terrapin started the recording, the group was then silent, Vee frowning as she focused. The voices were surprisingly clear and the recording of a good quality. As a first listen, she did grasp that some arrangements were being made regarding a certain formula and two animals?

"Un loup et une tortue alligator?" she voiced outloud, puzzled.

"What's that, you got something?" asked April.

Vee's brows were still furrowed, pondering for a moment as she paused the recording. She looked back at Donatello.

"There's a lot of information being given in this. Can I borrow some stuff to help me out; headphones, and uh-" she glanced at his keyboard. "A smaller keyboard so I can type it out and make better sense of it."

"Of course," he answered, already on the move to gather the equipment.

Vee turned to the others, sighing.

"This might take a little while," she announced. "If I caught things correctly, they're talking about a formula – something to be injected, and two specific animals. I'll need to relisten a couple of times to better pinpoint what's going on."

"Why do I have the feeling it might be about that damn purple ooze," added Leo, looking at his brothers.

"If that's true," said Donnie, the requested items in his hands as he was back. "That would mean we'd probably have a lead about Stockman's whereabouts."

"Let's not jump to conclusions yet," said April.

As the terrapin finished setting the items up, he handed the headphones to Vee, then moving his chair around in order to offer it to her. Vee thanked him, taking place. She gave one last glance to the group before holding the headphones close to her ears.

"No need to wait for me, I'll call you guys when I'll be done with this. Hopefully it won't take too long."

***

Donnie had decided to stay closeby, in case she'd ever request for some assistance or any other item. He was standing and leaning against the desk opposite of the one Vee was sitting at, absent-mindedly browsing his phone. To be frank, he spent more time observing her, somehow entranced by the way she was working. She was a fast typer. She barely had to look at the keyboard as her fingers flew across the keys. At some points she'd be mumbling in French to herself, continuing to type. The terrapin did not notice his younger brother, Mikey, sliding in next to him, smiling as he said in a low, cheerful tone: ""Diiiiibs~"

"Oh for crying out loud," complained Donnie in a similar hushed tone.

"What? She looks cute and seems like a complete badass! Look at her being a freakin' pro hacker level typer."

"Sure, 'cause you know about hacking," half-smiled the purple banded one.

"All I'm saying, we rarely get any other ladies in here. Let me have a chance!"

"Whatever, man, I didn't say a thing," sighed Donnie, going back to his phone.

His brother slipped away, smirking. Finally alone again, the turtle's eyes did wander back to Vee's form. She was quite nice looking indeed. Her dark teal green hair were an uncommon choice, yet did communicate her carefree nature. Her overall look was more of a classic chic nature, yet dressing comfortably. Plus her large black frame glasses seemed to compliment her pale eyes perfectly – were they green? Also he had noticed her tattoos, especially the ones at her right hand, at her inner left forearm, and some hidden ones at her upper left chest and her wrists. She seemed like quite the interesting character, indeed... His attention snapped as he noticed the woman removing the headphones, a slight sigh of relief leaving her. Donnie brought a stool and installed it next to her, sitting by her side.

"So, what's the verdict?" he asked.

"I finished writing up the whole dialogue down, in French," she answered, vaguely gesturing the screen. "It allowed me to get a better grasp of what was going on. Seems like my first observations were right; there were talks of a formula, an injection. They're planning on grabbing a wolf and an alligator snapping turtle for some sort of tests. They mentionned mutations along the way, something about what would be the results for an injection in animal subjects, rather than humans?"

"Leo was right then, it's related to the purple ooze..."

"What's that?"

"That's quite the long subject, but to summarize; it's a substance that has mutation properties. For humans, it turns them into part animal, part humanoid beings. The first incidence of that was Bebop and Rocksteady, two criminals that respectively got turned into a warthog and a rhinoceros."

"Damn, okay," commented Vee, surprised. "So what would be the results on animal subjects? Any thoughts?"

Donnie shrugged.

"Either they become fully human, or they go through different mutations – that is if the original formula is not altered. … Were there any talks about that?"

"Not really," answered the woman. "The discussion was pretty much centered around those animals. Were you able to record more of those conversations?"

"Actually, yes," said the turtle, grabbing the mouse and opening a folder on his computer. "I was able to get three more recently. But there's no need to go over them tonight... My brothers and I first wanted to know if things would go well tonight, and frankly I think it has been a success!"

"If you guys want me to come back to continue the work, I wouldn't mind."

"That'd be great!" smiled the terrapin, looking at the woman.

Yeah, she has green eyes. Vee was smiling softly as well, her chin resting on raised closed knuckles.

"… I still can't believe it somehow," she started, pensive. "This whole evening is just so weird right now, yet I know it's real. … I'm just so amazed."

"Amazed by my good looks?" suddenly came in Mikey as he got closer to Vee's position, taking support at the top back of her chair.

Vee chuckled while Donnie let out a quiet sigh.

"Amazed by all your looks," answered Vee. "I feel like I could ask so many questions right now, but I'll keep that for another time."

"We could definitely arrange a night of 20 questions," added the orange one with a playful look and a wink.

"Sure, why not!" laughed the woman.

((TO BE CONTINUED))

[dadddybangtan]

Suck Torture | 09🩸

Back Table of Contents Next

cw: mentions of d3ath/mvrder, blackmail, direct/indirect d3ath threats, mentions of s3xual situations, mentions of stalking, cheating, bl00d

word count: 2.2k

a.n… this chapter is the most f’ed up piece of fiction i’ve ever written. when i finished writing the chapter i had to go outside and touch grass bc i couldn’t believe my brain could come up with something so evil. please enjoy the drama

A knock on my bedroom door woke me from my deep sleep. I sauntered to open it, behind was my mother draped in her mourning wear.

"Hello, mother." I groaned.

"I wanted to thank you and Yeji for bringing Niki home last night," She said calmly, "He's resting in his room now."

"That's good."

"But-." She cupped her hand together in front of her chest, anxiously pulling at her skin, "We were just informed that there's been a human hunting for the first time in centuries."

"I've heard of that too..."

"Don't tell your father that I said this," She looked over her shoulder for a brief second, "But I think Niki did it."

She entered my room with her arms crossed. It was clear she was deeply troubled by this news. I closed the door behind her to guarantee our secrecy.

"I think Niki did it too," I said, "When Yeji and I found him yesterday, he was seconds away from killing a human... From killing me as well."

"He tried to kill you?" She asked and I nodded in confirmation, "So it's not a human hunting..."

"What do you mean, mother?"

"Niki is different." She began pacing a small line in my room.

"How so?"

"I'm not sure. Your father might know for certain, but..." She slowed her pacing down to a halt, "I don't think he's a pure-blooded vampire."

When she said that, it all started to make sense. I questioned how I didn't come close to concluding that before. Especially after Beomgyu so blatantly called him a demon.

"What makes you say that?"

"Vampires like us and your friends don't kill humans. Hence why this is the first offense in centuries," She began pacing again, "But Niki has these oddly advanced powers and he went missing for two weeks. The moment he comes back is when two humans are found dead."

"I see."

"He was blessed to use his powers with dignity and grace... Some creatures cannot be blessed out of their instincts. Some creatures simply cannot be blessed," She took a long, deep inhale to prepare her next words, "So I snuck into your fathers office last night, to find Niki's records. And just as I'd suspected, he is not of pure vampire blood."

"What is he?"

"Vaepollyon." She said simply, her pacing paused.

I hadn't heard the word before. Vae implied the essence of a vampire. Pollyon, from the term Apollyon. Meaning: the destroyer.

"A vampire demon hybrid." I said.

"You mustn't tell anyone outside of our family. If the town finds out that we're housing a demon, the demon that killed their neighbors, we'll be exiled and forced into hiding again."

"I won't tell a soul." I swore.

She hugged me tightly and trusted me with this burden of a secret. The fear of going into hiding again was plaguing my mind.

"Everything will be fine, Hyunjin," She reassured me, "I have this under control."

She closed the door behind her as she left. The air in my room became thick with worry. I opened my window to allow a bit of airflow. I took in a breath and looked out at the sky. The same sky Niki disappeared into a few weeks ago. I kneeled by the window and rested my head on the sill.

Part of me wished I could fly away like that, not to hunt humans, but to be free. Another part of me wished I couldn't fly or kill at all. I would never have to go into hiding or keep my identity a secret. I could die and know the true meaning of freedom.

I closed my eyes for what felt like hours and opened my eyes to Felix sitting above me, legs dangling out of the window.

"Felix?"

"I came to check on you. You didn't reply to my message."

"We found Niki, but I couldn't really talk."

"Is he alright?"

"He will be." I said simply.

I felt Felix's hand comb through my hair. His touch, for once, was so soothing.

"Are you alright?"

I wanted to look up at him, but I couldn't risk that. If he had a second to look in my eyes and read my mind, he'd know exactly what my mother didn't want anyone to know. My brother being a vaepollyon was at the forefront of my mind.

"I will be."

A moment of silence sat between us. He was still stroking my hair. Still, his touch kept me calm in the moment.

"Hyunjin, do you think another mass human hunting is gonna happen."

"I hope not."

"Yeah. My parents were talking about how this violates the treaty of twelve-forty something."

The treaty? I hadn't heard about that in centuries. It was something I thought I didn't have to worry about since it'd been settled.

"What do you know about the treaty?"

"Not much. I obviously didn't know what year it was proposed."

I stood up, becoming eye level with Felix. I felt his stare burning through my skin more intensely than the sun. I kept my gaze away from his eyes with much challenge. I settled on his hand in his lap.

"How do you suppose we go on a date?"

"A date?" He asked, pitch wavering.

I nodded.

"With me?"

"Who else?"

The corners of his mouth curled into a close-lipped smile as he looked out onto the city ahead.

"I'd love to go on a date with you, my love." His sultry voice declared as he blindly grabbed my hand and turned his head to kiss me.

My family's mansion was in a hidden nook on the outskirts of town. Driving into the main city took a little while. The streets weren't too busy with people. It looked quite normal. Felix lived in a suburban neighborhood outside of the city as well and didn't have much desire for city life. I could tell he was fascinated by the close buildings and atmosphere.

I parked on the street and we began walking the sidewalks of the city.

"It looks like there's a lot to do here." Felix said, looking up at the buildings.

"You'd be correct."

I passed by a person, a mortal, who looked at me oddly. Their skin was so lively and their eyes were pure. Felix and I didn't fit in there.

I stopped at the first bookstore I came across, opening the door and leading Felix inside. It was small, cozy and warm. Even the colors were reminiscent of the sun, golden yellow walls with earthy wooden shelves.

"A library," Felix chuckled, "Of all the endless possibilities of the city, you took me to a library."

"It's quiet, you like that." I said. I walked in deeper and started scanning the shelves for something of interest.

"I do, but surely there's a quiet restaurant you could've taken me to."

"I'll take you after." I said half-heartedly, the book I was searching for was close, I could feel it.

"Or should I just eat you right here and now."

Felix's deep voice seeped into my ears. So melodic and convincing. That was the reason I refrained from seeing him in the day. His voice belonged to the darkness of the night.

"Felix, it's really important that I find this book right now," I said, running my fingers along the spine of every book on the shelf, "You said it was the treaty of twelve-forty."

"Hyunjin, I'm starting to believe that you lied to me," His hand wrapped around my back, letting his mouth closer to my neck, "Did you only bring me here to further your own research?"

His nails reached around to tease at my neck. The library was mostly vacant, however it didn't warrant his behavior. We already looked like freaks amongst these humans, we didn't need to look freaky too.

"Although I need your help with this one thing, I have every intention to take you on a proper date." I glanced at him.

"After you fulfill your own selfish desires?"

"Yes, I think you of all monsters should understand that." I whispered.

He paused, letting his hand descend from my neck down my back. He reached my waist and stopped.

"Fine. I'll wait." I felt him smirk as his hand creeped up under my shirt. He dragged his nails up my back, and suddenly the words on the books started to blur together.

If Niki were a hybrid of a vampire and a murderous demon, I had every reason to believe that Felix has the blood of a different type of demon. An incubus, perhaps. It seemed as if he couldn't survive without sexual attention or sharing of the flesh. He was selfishly addicted to intimate pleasure, he'd go as far as to tease me like that in public.

"Felix, this is serious. Can you stop?" I snatched his hand away.

"Come on, Hyunnie. Niki's back, that's what you wanted, right?"

"Yes, but-," I lowered my voice and put my mouth to his ear, "I really don't want to go into hiding again... I need to find out how to stop this from getting worse."

"I'm sure it's all a big hoax."

I wish it was, but I know the truth. My brother had set us back by centuries and put our family and kind at risk.

"But what if it isn't."

"We'll live...," He said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "Who do you think did it?"

"It could've been anyone," I lied, "Handong, Jaehyun, Jun."

"But we know them. And neither of them would do that."

My eyes finally settled on the book titled, "The Vampire Peace Treaty of 1245" by K. Vladimir. I pulled it from the shelf in relief. All the answers were there. I took in a deep breath and suddenly the stale air in the library was filled with a woodland husky scent.

I stepped out of the aisle and to my immediate right was-

"Beomgyu," I said breathlessly, "What're you doing here?"

"I work here. What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?"

"No, I-."

"Why would he be stalking you?" Felix said from behind me with a grimacing undertone.

With Beomgyu and Felix in the same three-foot radius, I felt immediately overwhelmed. Felix never liked Beomgyu from the moment he smelled his blood on my hands.

"Haven't you been trying to catch up with me since the party?" Beomgyu asked rhetorically.

I caught a glimpse of Felix licking the inside of his cheek. Felix would never let me live that down. How I took him on a date and he was introduced to the mortal who took my attention away from him.

"The party?" Felix's glare was deadly.

"No." I lied needlessly, "Nothing happened at that party."

"Nothing happened? Not even you offering me a room in your east wing?"

It was revealed that I extended my loyalty to another all while we were on our first official date. With that, I accepted that Felix would punish me maliciously. Felix wasn't the type to leave peacefully. That's what mortals do since they only live once and for such a short time. Felix had an eternity to show me what hell was made of from the comfort of earth. I blamed myself for my mishandling of my attraction to them both. But I also blamed Beomgyu for his loose-lipped retaliation.

"I only offered it because you were homeless with a black eye," I said under my breath, getting close enough to bite his neck and take his life, "If I knew you were an insufferable bastard, I would've left you to die."

Caring not about the book any longer I threw it to Beomgyu's chest and left the library, leaving Felix behind as well. I had only a sliver of regret on the harsh words I said to him. If I hadn't saved him the night prior he would've been the third death in the human hunting. He was ungrateful and reckless with his words. He was incapable of properly thanking me. From that moment on, I saw my act of saving him as an act of saving my family.

Mortals, as much as I've tried to sympathize with their small minds, were not worth saving. But if it meant my family didn't have to hide, I'd save them.

Soon Felix caught up to me. Seeming more collected than before. He walked beside me quietly.

"That was the mortal who's blood I smelled on you," He said calmly, "I can forgive you for taking interest in him, Hyunjin. He's got an interesting aura around him. His mind races so much that it's unable to read. Not to mention he's rather dashing and quick witted. He's an exceptional mortal."

"What's your point?"

"I'm better. And if you continue to ignore that, I'll be forced to rat Niki out to the council."

"How did you know?" I asked, finally looking him in his sinful eyes.

"I didn't. Until now." He sneered, "I demand you to wed me and grant me your eternal loyalty, Hyunjin. Or you'll watch your precious family fall apart before your eyes."

Just as I predicted; the likes of hell on the comfort of earth.

"You wretched snake."

"And Beomgyu," He smiled wickedly, "He'll be dead once the time allows. And it'll be much cleaner than your little brother. The next time you taste his blood will be the remnants on my lips."

[radiomonkeys2]

Old commission from Ishida1694 + infographic about Feral Yabans. I've long struggled to define Feral Yabans after I realized there were some impossibilities with their original concept.

Feral Yabans like Sabyura here live on pure nexcidious instinct.

"Nexcidious" and "nexcidium" are words I throw around with the Yabanverse a lot. In short, "nexcidium" refers to a trait I kept noticing in a lot of action media where characters described an innate lust for battle. So I decided to run with it, creating a term that describes a mental state of being driven by unconscious impulses towards battle and conflict. Nexcidium stems from "nihilistic" and "excidium" (a Latin word meaning "destruction"). Nexcidiousness is basically berserker rage, and the more nexcidious one gets, the more unconsciously one acts on their aggressive impulses. Yabans being nexcidious means they don't require any culture, propaganda, beliefs, or even scarce needs to engage in extreme warlike aggression. I created different tiers of Yabans because it's not easy to tell a good story about an ultraviolent zombie, but I also didn't want to take nexcidium from them. Win-win scenario.

I basically took nexcidium directly off the Warhammer Orks and Khornate Berserkers, Legendary Super Saiyan Broly and Kale, and, to a lesser extent, zombies. It's deliberately unbelievable because humans in our real life are not supposed to be nexcidious except when we're in deeply, profoundly altered states (like said berserker rage or "thrill of the fight" highs). If we were nexcidious creatures, the Nazis wouldn't have needed Goebbels to convince them to go to war; we'd be throwing causeless wars every day, with no real point or endgoal (other than the raw thrill and joy of battle) and with no concern for material losses. Nexcidium goes against our storytelling rules of "make a villain believable." If you have nexcidium, the sole purpose of violence is violence; there is no cause or gain. Now, if you can control your nexcidium like a Docile/Civilized Yaban, you'll always still be inclined towards aggression, but your sapient mind can still win out.

Nexcidium is a chemical or type of biochemical in the minds of certain warlike races. The greater the amount of nexcidium, it induces a state of ultra-aggression and blinds an individual to any sense of rational thought, instead allowing them to act on pure aggressive impulse. For example, bollois are so aggressive and warlike precisely because they have more raw nexcidium than nagois, who mix nexcidium with testosterone. Bollois being female lack testosterone for the most part, but nexcidium makes up for that in spades and drives a lot of their hypermasculine behaviors and levels them out with nagois. Yenois have far more estrogen and only a little nexcidium and testosterone, so while they do have aggressive urges all the same, it's far more tempered than for nagois and bollois. Yabans with even more nexcidium, or with nexcidium pumping high and fast, become or are born Chaotic or even Feral.

Nexcidiousness is basically any behavior or action resembling that driven by nexcidium: hyper-aggressiveness, warlike impulses, and an instinctual need to fight and destroy. Think the Khorne Berzerkers and the Orks from Warhammer 40k. They both live nexcidiously. Nexcidious effects can appear in any creature, reducing sapients to bestial impulses of violence. Even in humans, a person who is profoundly mentally altered through illness, drugs, demonic possession, or technological programming can act nexcidiously, engaging in violence for no higher reason other than spastic impulses to attack. For example, people high on certain drugs like methamphetamine, flakka, and bath salts have been known to start fights for no apparent reason, even going so far as to literally rip off other people's faces. Certain ultra profoundly mentally ill people have been known to feel uncontrollable needs to fight and kill others. Even though this behavior is controlled, the aggressive impulses count as lightly nexcidious. Nexcidium and nexcidious behavior is great for warriors and soldiers, but only in certain amounts. If you go too far, then the nexcidious person will become so bloodlusted that they suffer without combat and will eagerly and instinctively turn on any living being nearby to satiate their need for battle and bloodletting. Yabans, Devastators, Vedars, Berzerkers, Orks, and the like are this way: if there is no war, they'll make the war just to keep fighting, and not for any higher reason of honor but just because their bodies and minds need war to function.

[lights-in-the-night-blog]

I saw some people say that the reason humans are monsters is because of their intelligence, so I will be saying why this is incorrect.

First of all, I think it's important to mention why people do bad things in the first place. They feel desires for something they want to gain for themselves.

"They wouldn't know about these desires if they weren't smart!!!"

No, every living creature feels desires. Almost all of them want to live, so they do everything in order to survive. Desires come from instinct. Most of them don't even know about it. Animals are not as smart as us (according to us) and it's easy to spot them doing messed up things (if you've never seen it, search it up).

We're the smartest animals (so far) and we can tell (or at least most of us can) what's wrong and what's right. Most animals don't really use their head, they just follow their instinct. Most of them don't know about the consequences of their actions, but we do. This is what makes us human. Our intellect, the way we can actually think and not blindly follow what we desire. Of course, not everyone is smart enough to realize it which is why bad things happen. A true intelligent person would be aware of the fact that they're just one of the 8.1 billion people. A true genius would be smart enough to know whether their selfish desires are worth fulfilling or not. If you know that more than one good person will get hurt and damaged at the cost of you being happy, you're not smart (even in the selfish way). There are many introverts, yes, but it's common sense that we still need other people to survive. You might believe that if you properly manipulate "everyone", then you're a genius. You're not. Sooner or later - Someone will rebell against you and they probably won't stop until they win. You were a bit smart to do it, but you weren't intelligent. Your intellect only helped you, but it wasn't enough to make you a "true genius".

When we think about it, desires should be counted more to the "thinking with your heart" since they're feelings. However, I think we all know that this is just a metaphor and the truth is that all of the feelings (including good ones) come from brain. The only reason why I'm specifying it in this post right now is because I've seen some feelers say that thinkers are monsters, which is not exactly true. Both feelers and thinkers can be monsters if they don't know how to use their way of thinking properly. (If you'll try to use any famous thinker to prove my earlier point wrong, just know that being a thinker ≠ being intelligent. I was talking purely about intelligence.)

Thank you for reading my rant and let me know if I said something wrong! Λ-Λ

[unboundtravels]

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 | 𝐴𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔

Dimension hopping comes with a steep price, and it seems the crew and their beloved fixer-upper have just found out how heavy that price can be, and how in some corners of eternity... there be monsters.

"HUMANOID VESSEL— YOU HAVE ENTERED DALEK SPACE. YOU WILL BE DESTROYED."

The Time War. It is a near-invisible conflict to anyone not experienced in time travel or universe hopping. A conflict being fought off the tracks of reality. While the lesser-aware beings, like the humanoids of 21st-century Earth and those of their same standing, simply continue life in blissful ignorance— a battle is waged between the lines of reality. Those unfortunate to slip between the cracks are exposed to the intense flame and heat of a deadly and devastating conflict. If only it were just pure, unfettered conflict— but a war between time-traveling powers is seldom simple. The War's devastating effects are caused by the temporal powers that be. Once exposed to the war, you'll never escape the effects it leaves upon the body and mind. Reality warped every nanosecond, battles rewound and repeated, undone and remade. The Fabric of the universe shifted so terribly that sooner or later... the war will bleed into all of reality.

Those who travel more than just one universe may or may not be aware of who's fighting. While one side, The Timelords, wage war from their capital of Gallifrey— defending their seat as the highest authority of all that is when it comes to time and space, they wage a conflict with The Daleks. A race of putrid, mutated creatures of hate— driven by genocidal instinct and molded by pure hatred. The Daleks light the flames of war whilst the timelords fan it. Unmerciful, and disgusted by all that isn't it's own ilk, The Daleks swarm all corners of reality waging their war against the timelords with such intensity that the only thing anyone can do when cornered by the Daleks is to simply run. 

Energy batteries fire wildly around Cassius' ship. Each blast from the Dalek saucer, even if it misses, rocks the ship like it's a car rolling down a hill. Explosions of bright green light flash into bright yellows and whites in front of the viewscreen of the ship. Even at maximum speed, The Dalek saucer is always right on the tail of the ship. The computers blare critical warning signs and alarms of increasing intensity. The ships automatically began transmitting a distress signal per an emergency protocol locked away deep within the system's subroutines. Though in a universe at war, it seems unlikely that answer.

However, just at the darkest hour... it seems as if miracles do happen.

The door to the ship's control room and central cockpit slide open. A figure slides a cylindrical device into his coat after it aids him in opening the door. It's unclear how he got onboard, but in the haze of the chaos there's not enough time to question it. He immediately rushes up toward the main cockpit, pointing toward a distant nebula— spiraling with blue, green, and purple colors. It's like a complex fog, constantly sparkling and twinkling. The Figure, an English male who sounds like he's had his fair share of sleepless nights— speaks with a wild and hopeful charisma despite all that inherently weighs him down.

"There! That nebula! Fly into it!" He shouts, "You don't have much time— but if we're lucky, we might be able to evade The Daleks! Plot a course!" The figure explains, moving toward a control panel. His fingers fly across the controls but he explains everything he's doing in key detail. "A very lovely ship you have here! A bit of a fixer-upper, which I admire! But a lovely ship nonetheless—" He gets back on topic quickly, "I'm making a few modifications to the power distribution system, I'm sorry for not asking—" He continues to speak quickly, but suddenly the ship rockets forward with such intensity that it begins to escape the Dalek saucer. For the most part, the pursuing saucer still attempts to maintain chase. 

"The Daleks will try and bombard you with all the firepower they have, but they're not the best shots! Make evasive maneuvers on your way to the nebula, but don't try and fight back— you won't win! All we can hope to do is escape from them!"

@tragedicn