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reina-petrova · 8 months

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You Have My Word ・❥・ Elejah

“Elena, you don’t have to just be a doppelgänger… you have to be a virgin. So, theoretically, if you lost it to someone, the ritual wouldn’t work.” “Are you serious?” “Yes, but there’s a catch…” “Of course there is. What is it, Bonnie?” “It has to be with an Original.” ↳AU where Elena discovers that Klaus’s hybrid ritual requires a virgin doppelgänger sacrifice and Elena never lost the V-card. Now her only hope is a certain Original. Set around season 3 during ripper!stefan and pining!Damon, post Elijah!haircut and post Elena's 18th birthday.

↳Warnings: Smut, virgin kink, dirty talk, light dom/sub undertones if you squint.

↳6.7k words

↳Cross-posted to AO3 here

↳Song rec: Terrible Thing by AG (A/N: this is just a silly AU fic that popped into my head, it’s only a vehicle for smut so be forewarned the canon details/timeline may be off 🤪)

・❥・

[text: 2:48pm] I found something. Call me l8tr. - Bonnie

Elena let out a shaky breath at the text in front of her. She finished putting the last of her books into her locker and slung her bag over her shoulder. She could hardly look away from the text as she shut the metal door closed, typing a quick response to Bonnie in the meantime.

[text: 2:49pm] I will. Thx B. - Elena

It almost seemed too good to be true, and as Elena returned to her car, she allowed herself a brief moment to envision a happy ending where Bonnie's new plan would actually work and they'd kill Klaus. Stefan would return to her. The Originals would be gone. Her town would be safe. She'd live.

Still, after so many run-ins with the supernatural, she'd learned to keep a healthy dose of reality mixed in with her positivity. Every plan was sure to work until it wasn't, and unfortunately, the last few indeed hadn't. It wasn't her life she was so worried about saving, it was everybody else's. With Klaus gone, they would be safe. But while Bonnie searched for any answers she could find, putting in all this time and effort, Elena had to at least try.

The moment she arrived home, she called Bonnie.

"Hey Elena,"

"Hi Bonnie, you said you found something? What's going on?" Elena sat down onto her bed with a small sigh.

"Yes and no. It's more of a loophole than anything else." Bonnie seemed a bit unsure, which gave rise to uncertainty in Elena. She prepared herself. Nothing was out of the question anymore.

"Okay, I'm ready."

"Like I said before, most of my grimoires don't go back far enough for the hybrid ritual, it's way too old. But I did find something in my oldest one, a description of it that included a word I've never seen before - virgino, in Latin."

Elena paused at that. She couldn't be hearing this correctly.

"As in...?"

"Yep. Virgin." Okay, so she had heard correctly.

"So what does that mean?"

“Elena, you don’t have to just be a doppelgänger… you have to be a virgin. So, theoretically, if you lost it, the ritual wouldn’t work.”

Elena's brows furrowed in confusion. She'd never heard that part of the ritual before. She wondered how accurate this description of the ritual could possibly be.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, but there’s a catch…” She heard Bonnie's voice grow more dim, and she knew it was nothing good.

“Of course there is. What is it, Bonnie?”

“Well... in order to ensure total loss of purity... it has to be with an Original.”

・❥・

“Thank you for meeting with me, Elijah.”

Elena’s fingers fidgeted around the coffee mug, her nails tracing over the width of it with anxiety. Elijah inclined his head politely, sitting opposite her at the Mystic Grill. It was far from a private place to speak, but Elena chose it for that very reason. Though the conversation was awkward at best, she didn’t know how she’d react if the two of them were alone. She didn’t even know how he’d react.

Despite all his wisdom, she knew he’d never guess why she’d asked to meet here.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Elena?”

He cut a handsome figure, wearing a perfectly tailored black suit that accentuated his shoulders with a matching black collared shirt underneath. The shirt opened at his throat and exposed the smallest peek of his clavicle. His hair was shorter now, brushed back and away from his face. A gold ring encircled one of his fingers. Noticing these details certainly wasn’t helping her nervousness. She swallowed the dryness in her throat at sound of the word pleasure.

Their “relationship” was built on shifting sands and she knew that, a tentative trust that both she and he tested the boundaries of. This would certainly cross the next three boundaries.

“Well, Bonnie was reading more into the hybrid ritual, trying to find a loophole. Trying to find our opportunity to kill Klaus.”

Elijah’s eyes searched hers but he said nothing in response, patiently waiting for her to continue. The words seem to spill out of her mouth as slowly as possible, yet her heart rammed in her rib cage. She was grateful he couldn't read her mind but doubtless he heard that at least.

What if he says no? How embarrassing would that be? And if it happened, how would she even explain to Stefan and Damon why suddenly the ritual wouldn’t work? Why it had to be Elijah?

“Yes.”

His smooth voice broke her from her reverie. She cleared her throat and tried again, taking another sip of her coffee. Matt had courteously slipped an extra something in her coffee when she’d asked, figuring even a drop of liquid courage would do her some good. It burned like a low ember in her stomach. Elijah’s tea stood in front of him, untouched.

“She found one other way that the ritual could be dismantled, apart from all the other options.” The other options being actually dying, becoming a vampire, etc. She’d gladly give her life if it meant her friends and town were safe, but killing Klaus would ensure safety forever. She had to at least try.

“Apparently, it’s not just the sacrifice of the doppelgänger… it’s the sacrifice of a virginal doppelgänger. So if the doppelgänger is no longer... you know, it won't work.”

Elijah’s brow furrowed, and she held some small victory in the fact that she was able to catch him so completely off guard. It made her feel less ridiculous in suggesting this, but also showed that not even the Originals knew all.

“But how can this be? I’ve never heard of such a requirement.”

“I guess it’s just one of the old failsafes from that era, tied in with the idea of innocence and purity in the face of…” She trailed off hesitantly.

“Evil.” He finished for her with a slow smile. She allowed herself a small smile in return.

When silence settled upon the conversation once more, Elijah took up the mantle, shifting to lean closer to her across the table. “And I assume you are a-“

“Yes.” The word was barely a whisper but she knew he heard it loud and clear.

Elijah raised his brows in some surprise, a smirk crossing his lips for the briefest of flashes. His hands quickly moved the teacup to the side of the table, the drink long forgotten. His fingers tapped slowly at the wooden table in thought, and Elena took a small breath into her lungs and held it.

“Forgive me, but with both Salvatore’s at your heels, and if I recall their history with Katerina-“ Elijah’s palm turned upwards, his eyes casting downwards for a moment.

“I am not Katherine.”

Then his gaze flickered up to hers, amusement clear in his warm brown eyes. She thought she saw a small look of admiration somewhere in those eyes.

“No. You are certainly not, Elena.”

Elena took another sip of the coffee, begging for the alcohol to provide some inspiration. As it was, her words were failing her and they hadn’t even gotten to the brunt of it. Part of her hoped he’d ascertain it himself without her even needing to say it. Though she wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to hear he’d say it either. Elijah was a noble man, and he ensured any and all terms of a deal were clear. He was the key to their plan to kill Klaus, and innuendos would never do, not when there was so much on the line. Thankfully, he wasn’t one for vulgarity either.

“So, if I’m understanding correctly, there’s only one thing left for you to do.” The amusement still never left Elijah’s eyes and it made her squirm in her chair. His gaze was so intent and heavy on her, his presence commanding. He was a man unlike she’d ever known. “But I’m assuming there’s a reason you called me here.”

"Yes." Here goes nothing. "The only way to ensure the total-“ she cleared her throat again. “-loss of purity is for it to be with an Original.”

Realization dawned on his features in the blink of an eye. Then, ever so slowly, she watched his face darken with something else. Her eyes dropped back to her fingers, nails digging into her nail beds. She wanted to disappear, to melt right into her chair.

“And further ensure the division of the family.” Elijah murmured. “If it can only be an Original, then only Niklaus’s own family can betray him.”

A small knot of fear tied itself in Elena’s stomach. If he refused, if he changed his mind about killing Klaus, all hope was lost. She tried her best to gauge his reaction, but he was unreadable at best, a stone statue at worst. Elijah never let his hand slip, and she could no more understand him than she could an ancient language.

Suddenly, her nerves got the better of her. The caffeine outweighed the alcohol, and she felt herself standing to her feet, grabbing her bag from the back of the chair.

“I’m sorry, this was a ridiculous idea. We’ll find another way-“ She took no more than a step away from the table, prepared to flee the building when she felt his hand take hers gently.

“Elena.”

He pulled on her hand slightly, just enough that she stepped back towards him and towards the table. Even in the smallest, most delicate of gestures, she felt his strength thrumming in his fingertips. She turned to face him, and he’d stood to his full height, his broad frame dwarfing hers.

It was then that she allowed herself the opportunity to even process what she was asking. She’d been so caught up in trying to kill Klaus, prevent any more innocent lives lost, that she hadn’t thought about what this would. mean. Her and Elijah. Together.

A flash of their bodies intertwining appeared in her mind, the heat of his hand on hers suddenly feeling like a searing flame on her skin. The knot of fear began to dissolve, and something else pooled in her lower stomach.

The same feeling she saw in his eyes just then.

Four little words, and despite herself, she felt her heart flutter.

“You have my word.”

・❥・

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Bonnie repeated for the fifth time that evening. Elena shot her a half annoyed glance, to which Bonnie grinned in response.

“I know.” Elena repeated for the sixth. All too well. Though she had a feeling she had no real idea.

Elena sat down into the bed with a quiet sigh. Bonnie had brought the grimoire where she found the loophole so Elena could see it for herself. Though her Latin was nonexistent, there was no denying that word. Virgin. She'd even brought a few extras she didn't have time to go through earlier in case they had any other information to offer. So far, nothing. The books shifted slightly towards Elena in their careful piles as her weight settled into the covers.

“What about Stefan? I thought you guys were waiting.”

The reminder of Stefan struck a chord in her heart, but one that had been struck too many times lately. She believed in her and Stefan’s love, but with him firmly in Klaus’s grasp, she could hardly recognize him. As it was, she had little time to wait.

“Stefan’s lost right now, Bonnie. And if this could get him away from Klaus and save his life, I’m going to try.”

“And Damon?” Bonnie offered quietly, with some note of derision in her voice. Elena knew how she felt about him, but there was also no denying Damon's obvious feelings for her, and how protective he'd become. It was almost too much to think about. Instead, she stood up and began aimlessly tidying the room, putting things away in random drawers. What does one do to prepare for this situation?

“He doesn’t know- he can’t know. He’ll lose it. He’ll say it’s a bad plan.” Along with a few choice words for Elijah and maybe a dagger dipped in white oak ash. Then they’d have no plan.

“Well I wouldn’t say it’s a good plan.” Bonnie responded sardonically.

Elena’s mouth dropped in fake disbelief as she put her diary away.

“This was your idea!”

“You’re the one going through with it! And I mean, Elijah? He’s kind of scary.”

“As opposed to who?” Elena responded with a mirthless laugh. “And he’s not that scary. He’s just… aristocratic."

“No? Oh.” Bonnie teased coyly. “I forgot how well you’re acquainted…" She cocked a brow at Elena's pattering around the room "Are you actually cleaning right now?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” She admitted. “How does one seduce an Original?”

Bonnie started flipped some of the grimoires closed, and Elena looked up nervously at the clock. He would arrive in 30 minutes. Anticipation buzzed through her veins at the thought. Bonnie slid off the bed once the books allowed a path and stood in front of Elena, taking her hands in hers as a show of strength.

“I'm sorry, Elena, this is a big deal. Your first time but it comes with the caveat of saving your life and everybody else's. Not to mention it's happening with a thousand year old vampire. Just be your normal, charming self. This is a common interest of killing Klaus and nothing more.”

“Right,” Elena smiled. Nothing more. Right?

“But-“ Bonnie reached behind her and pulled one of the drawers she’d just shut open and retrieved her hair brush. With a shrug, she handed it to Elena. “Couldn’t hurt.”

Elena smirked and took the hairbrush from her hands, combing it through her locks gently.

・❥・

After Bonnie left, Elena paced for another ten minutes incessantly. She'd brushed her hair, done minimal makeup, but left herself in her usual outfit of jeans and a tank top. Anything else felt like it was trying too hard.

She sat down onto edge of the bed and glanced at her phone. A few messages from Damon and Caroline. Nothing from Stefan. She dropped the phone onto the bed and waited. With each passing minute, she felt her heart beginning to race faster and faster.

This is insane. How is this my life?

The fact that it was happening in her bedroom was even stranger. Elijah had been inside of her house before but this was something else entirely. He'd been perfectly gentlemanly in allowing her to choose the location, but there weren't many options. Elijah had no permanent domicile as of yet, and a hotel room felt too seedy, even the nicest one in town; though he'd even assured her he'd take care of the cost.

Only after she ensured Ric and Jeremy wouldn't be home did she suggest her place, a small level of familiarity in this situation. She wasn't afraid per se, but the way her body reacted to his was jarring. There was something deeply forbidden about it, and she couldn't help but be drawn to it. Being home would help ground her.

His knock came, short and sweet. Elena's heart nearly jumped out of her chest as she stood up and walked down the stairs to let him in. Her fingers curling around the knob, she took one more quiet breath. No going back now.

She opened the door to Elijah standing on her porch, clad in his usual tailored suit. The black fabric looked heavy and luxurious with the way it laid on his shoulders, accentuating his broad frame. The dark shirt he was wearing that afternoon was replaced with a crisp white one, and the tie he wore was black to match the jacket. There was stubble on his jaw, she noticed with a note of appreciation. It gave him a slightly more disheveled look than usual. Her nervousness began to melt away at the sight of his handsome face and his calm demeanour.

He was wearing the same gold ring as before, and she only noticed when she spotted the crimson red rose in his fingers. With a smile, he extended it to her. "Elena."

"Elijah." Elena reached out and took the rose from his hands, giving a slight smirk. "A flower. Very symbolic of you."

Elijah let out a quiet laugh. "I assure you, I meant no such innuendo. It didn't seem right to come without a gift."

"Well, it's beautiful. Please come in."

He stepped in as invited and she shut the door behind him. Now that they were well and truly alone, her heart picked up the pace once more, but she busied her fingers with the stem of the rose so as not to betray it. The man was a thousand years old and undoubtedly had known countless women. Her experience to his could not pale more in comparison. "I'm sorry, this is a bit... overwhelming."

"Undoubtedly."

Elijah stepped towards her slowly, closing the distance between them more than they ever had before. Elena stared upwards at him, her eyes barely at the level of his lips. His gaze was compelling but warm as it fell upon her, and she felt a breath hitch in her lungs at the nearness of him. "I want to make this experience comfortable for you, Elena. Your terms."

Elena nodded slowly, swallowing back her saliva. "Should we go upstairs?"

Elijah inclined his head with a small smile to which Elena smiled back. As intimidating as he could be, he was trying to put her at ease, and she appreciated it. She led the way up the stairs and to her bedroom, Elijah trailing behind. Once upstairs, she placed the rose delicately on the top of the dresser and then turned to face him.

Elijah looked incredibly out of place in her bedroom. Finely dressed and with an air of sophistication only a thousand years on earth could garner, he was like an ancient relic pulled straight from the history books. He looked better suited to a battlefield than a modern-day bedroom. But if he was ill at ease, he certainly never showed it.

His eyes met hers again and Elena's stomach flip-flopped. He had barely even touched her yet, and she was already reacting so viscerally to the vampire in front of her. Again, snapshots of their bodies entwining flashed in her mind like a promise of what was to come. Amusement crossed his chiseled features and he raised a hand to gently place his thumb and forefinger on her chin. "I can hear your heart beating, Elena."

Beating was an understatement. It felt like it was about to pop out of her chest. His touch on her face certainly wasn't helping that matter.

"Are you nervous?"

She thought before answering, their eyes searching each other, trying to gauge the other's feelings. But despite what she'd initially thought... she wasn't. Excitement thrummed within her, her arousal beginning to simmer at the seductive way he seemed to be looking down at her. He knew exactly what kind of power he held, and he enjoyed it. It was unnerving, but it was thrilling.

"No."

"Good. I want you to enjoy yourself, Elena. To let go and give in." To me, his eyes seemed to say. Give in to me completely. She managed a nod but found that words had escaped her completely. Was he moving in closer?

His fingers never dropped from her chin and she had nowhere to look but directly at him. Warmth bloomed from inside her stomach, her body signalling just how much she wanted to give in.

Using his other hand, he lifted a single finger to trace over the curvature of her neck, beginning from her collarbone all the way up to where her jaw began. His finger pressed just so behind her jawbone where her pulse was strongest, and she felt her blood sing in response to him.

"I meant what I said. Your terms. You're in complete control."

"I know..." Closer still. Their lips were a hairsbreadth apart.

"Yes?" She could feel the smile in his lips.

"Yes."

His lips met with hers and she felt herself crumble. His kiss was as captivating as she could've imagined, without a trace of insistence. He was telling the truth; the pace was in her hands. At first, shyness won out. Elena returned the kiss slowly at first, but as her lips deepened, so did his.

His hand had fallen from her face and instead, he pressed his palm to to her mid-back. It dipped no lower. Ever the gentleman, she thought, unable to supress the smile between their kiss.

He seemed to sense her amusement because his hand fell lower not a moment later, placing itself into the small of her back. He pressed her body closer to his, her chest landing flush with his as though he were challenging her.

Something sparked within Elena as the warmth of Elijah's hand spread through her hips. A need to know, a need to discover. She found the courage to touch him back, raising her hands to slip over his shoulders, fingers delicately tracing over the back of his neck. The fabric of his suit was soft to the touch, his skin softer still.

She'd done some things with Matt and Stefan before, but with Elijah, it felt as though she knew nothing at all. In this, she wanted him to take the lead. It seemed he intended to to some degree as both of his hands came down to her waist, the large expanse of his hands burning through her shirt. Desire began to take over, and their kisses grew deeper still. She ran her fingernails along the nape of his neck, coming down to scratch over his shoulders.

His hands pressed into her hips again before he broke the kiss. Elena felt how flushed she was, cheeks pink and lips swollen from his amorousness. She saw a muscle work in his jaw and he regarded her with half-lidded eyes. He raised a graceful hand and indicated towards the bed with a half-smirk.

"Please."

Elena pulled herself away from Elijah and obeyed, sitting on the side of the bed before lying down. Not once did she look away from him as he shrugged his jacket off, then loosened the knot of his tie. Desire pooled in the deepest parts of her at the sign of him so untidy. He looked like every woman's dream as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his white shirt and rolled them up slowly, exposing tanned forearms corded with lean muscle.

He returned to her, eyes appreciatively slipping from her neck downwards to her chest and her hips. "Good girl."

Slowly, he leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss again, his arms on either side of her head. The night had fallen in earnest now, the single lamp she left on providing a faint warm glow in the room. Elijah’s body swallowed her, the broadness of his shoulders and the dimness of the room entombed her in what felt like an eternity of him.

Elena reached up and twirled her fingers around his tie, giving an experimental tug to pull him down closer to her. He chuckled against her mouth and she did it again, pleased with the way his weight settling on her felt.

"Not that good." She whispered against his mouth.

"No? Show me."

Passion reignited, his mouth was suddenly everywhere. On hers, trailing kisses along her jaw, her collarbone, between the valley of her breasts. When his mouth stopped where her shirt ended, his fingers tugged upwards at the bottom of it, and she broke the kiss to pull it over her head.

With practiced ease, he unbuttoned her jeans and began to tug them down. She sat up slightly to help pull them off, then fell back in only her bra and underwear. Just before he could continue, she reached for one of his hands and tentatively placed it between her legs. Elijah raised his brows at her but acquiesced.

One arm outstretched between her thighs, the other bent as he hovered over her, he gazed down at her with darkened eyes. "I think you'll be good for me."

Elena's breathing pitched into a soft moan as she felt Elijah's fingers press against her underwear. Moving softly but with intent, his index and middle finger rubbed upwards, careful to barely brush against her covered clit, just where she needed him most. Her hips shifted at the pleasure, lips parting as another moan escaped her lips. His fingers were trained and precise.

"Won't you?" He asked, and she could hardly piece together a sentence. His voice was deep enough it reverberated in her chest. She felt herself growing wetter and she knew he could feel it too.

"Yes, Elijah."

"Mm."

She reached for his tie again to pull him down into another kiss. In the meantime, his fingers brushed the edge of her underwear aside and as his fingers slipped against her pussy, she gasped into his mouth. Finally, after a few moments, his fingers slowly came to her clit, and she felt every nerve sizzle in her body at the feeling.

He pressed another kiss to her lips as his fingers slowly slipped inside of her, and she suppressed another moan into his mouth. They moved slowly, collecting her wetness and teasing her. Her hips bucked lightly, chasing the feeling.

"So innocent... What do you want, Elena?" His fingers paused over her clit and she let out a soft whine at the cessation.

"I want you to touch me, Elijah. Please."

His touch felt like electricity as his fingers returned to run against her clit, and her body tensed as the pleasure swam through her. She already felt spent and yet he was still fully clothed.

Her hands reached for his shirt, but his hands captured hers before she could even the score. "Not yet. Not until I think you've had enough."

Her head and shoulders fell back onto the bed as his fingers picked up their pace. He alternated between slipping inside of her and pressing his thumb against her clit, until the energy building inside of her threatened to spill over. Her hands found his shoulders and her fingernails dug into his shirt at the pleasure, brow creasing as it threatened to overtake her.

Finally, with one last roll of his fingers, she felt the wave crash into her, sending ripples of sparks down to her very fingers and toes. If he were a mortal man, the grip she had on his body would've left marks. Elijah's mouth swallowed the last of the moans escaping from Elena's lips as his fingers rode out her orgasm, his thumb occasionally brushing against her sensitive clit, causing her to jump.

"I like the sight of you like this, sweet Elena. Undone, writhing. Your pleasure in my hands."

"And yours in mine." She panted.

Elena pushed up on Elijah's shoulders and he allowed it, the positions reversing until she straddled his hips. His hands came up to her waist, gripping it as she slowly rolled them over his. His desire was evident in the bulge of his pants, and it gave her immense satisfaction to know she had the same effect that he did on her.

Her fingers made quick work of his belt, unbuttoning while pressing her hand against the outline of him. He released a quiet groan at the feeling of her touch, and she wanted to hear more. His fingers came away from her hips to divest himself of his tie properly, slipping the satin from around his neck.

She slid from off his hips and stood at the foot of the bed, leaning over to tug him towards her by the loop of his trousers. He stood, his shirt half unbuttoned and creased, and his belt hanging around his hips. Elena felt herself grow wetter as she sank to her knees in front of him, and he watched with dark eyes as she began to pull his trousers and underwear down, just low enough to release his cock.

He was long and thick in her hand, and his head fell back as she leaned forward and licked a trail from shaft to tip. Slowly, she took him into her mouth, licking and sucking his heavy length until she could take him no more.

A deep growl emanated from Elijah’s chest, his hand coming up to rest against the back of her head. He let her set the pace, but his fingers knotted themselves in her hair as she swirled her tongue around his tip, tasting every last inch of him.

“You wicked little thing.” He sighed, his jaw clenching and his muscle tensing. She could see he desperately wanted to move his hips, but stayed in full control as she pressed him deeper into her mouth.

She placed her hands on his thighs, gripping the fabric of his trousers to give herself more balance, and she felt his fingers brush the hair away from her face and behind her ear before lightly collecting it into his grip. The small gesture made her heart skip as she set a quick rhythm.

He groaned again in pleasure, allowing himself a few more moments before delicately tugging on her hair to bring her back up to standing position. In a flash, the moment she stood, he had her trapped against the wall, his chest pressing into her shoulder blades. Her fingers bent and scratched against the wall, seeking purchase as her lungs seemed to give out. His scent enveloped her. His mouth was hot against her ear.

“So innocent and yet so wicked. So ready to be defiled. Will you give into me, Elena?” Give in, her mind whispered.

She found herself pushing back against the wall to be closer to him, the outline of his body providing delicious heat against hers. She felt his strength emanating from every muscle, both hands pressed on either side of her. Using one hand, he tilted her jaw until her neck was exposed to him. For a moment, she thought he would drink from her, but instead, he placed gentle half-kiss-half-bites along the slope of her neck. His hand then dipped to her back where he quickly unhooked her bra and slipped it off her shoulders. Her underwear was tugged down until it fell. Goosebumps rose all over her skin at the thought of being fully naked in front of Elijah Mikaelson.

“I want to give in, Elijah. Give me all of you.”

Her back was pressed into the mattress before she realized, her body softly settling on the bed. Elijah undid the last of the buttons on his shirt and pulled off his trousers.

“So beautiful.” He murmured, his hand coming up to cup her breast, thumb tracing over her pebbled nipple. Elena sighed at the feeling.

Elijah’s body was just as beautiful, she thought. The expanse of his chest was strong, his abdomen and arms both lean with taut muscle. A deep V-line followed into his hips, his cock erect.

Just as their lips moved to reconnect, Elena’s eyes met his again. Suddenly, this became more than just breaking a ritual. Both were entrenched in their desire, desperate to for release in the other’s body. Nervousness bubbled up inside of her again as she realized it was time. Everything else she had done before, but not this. She knew generally what to expect of sex, but certainly not when it came to a thousand year old vampire being her first.

“I’ll be gentle.”

Elena nodded at his kind words, fingers reaching up to his shoulders again. He balanced on one arm as the other reached out to touch her slick heat, and instantly, she felt the unreleased desire come flooding back. Satisfied, Elijah slowly guided himself between her legs.

Her chest arched upwards at the feeling. Heat spread from her hips as her pussy stretched to accommodate his length. True to his word, he moved slowly as he rolled his hips towards her, sinking deeper into her with every breath. She could feel him gauging her reaction and moving only so long as she allowed it.

Elena felt as though she might burst from the feeling, her breathing devolving into moans as he settled himself to the hilt inside of her. One of her legs was bent, the other laid straight, and one of his hands gripped her thigh as he used the other to balance himself over her, watching her face.

Once the burn of the stretch passed, pleasure began to trickle in. He felt immense inside of her, overwhelming in every aspect of his body as he stilled his hips against hers.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes- yes.” Her eyes fluttered closed.

“Does it feel good, Elena?”

He slowly rolled his hips back and she let out an involuntarily moan at the feeling of him moving inside of her. When he rolled his hips forward again, pleasure erupted from within her, and her nails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

“Yes, yes!“

Elijah pressed a kiss to her lips, and obeyed. He set a slow but sensual rhythm to his hips as he moved in and out of her with deliberate care. Any discomfort long forgotten, Elena felt her own hips moving in tandem, hissing in delight at the friction their hips created.

He chuckled at her reaction. “So good for me.”

The praise was like an extra douse of kerosene to the flame.

“Please, Elijah- more.”

“More what? Hm?”

All the while, he never stopped moving, his hips picking up a faster pace. In that moment, the hand resting on her thigh slipped between their two entwined bodies. His fingers immediately located her clit, and the combination of him pumping in and out of her, and his thumb pad rolling against her clit, her moan nearly turned into a scream. She could hardly think past her own name.

“Use your words, Elena. Tell me what you want.”

But she couldn’t. Her body shook with pleasure, her nails digging crescent shaped impressions into his skin.

“I’m so close, please…”

His fingers and hips slowed down ever so slightly, and she whined at the feeling of her release slowly ebbing away.

“Do you want more?” He asked again.

“Yes.” Her voice was thick with desperation. All she could think about was the way his hips moved in between her thighs. The length of him hit all of the most inner parts, sending shockwaves of pleasure up her spine. She wanted more of anything he would give her.

He slowly pulled out of her, releasing his grip on her and flipped their positions once more. He kneeled behind her on the bed while she lay flat on her stomach, then he slowly moved until his body hovered over hers.

She pressed her thighs together, trying to gain back some friction, frustrated at the loss of him. She felt him press a kiss to her shoulder blade and in the same moment, he lifted her hips and slowly slid back into her.

She gasped at the feeling, her hips rising to meet his, and he settled back onto his knees, gripping her hips as he set a quicker pace. She felt herself dripping between her thighs, moans slipping past her lips as Elijah thrusted in and out.

She was desperate for release, and as his hips stuttered a bit, she knew he was too. He reached forward for her, pulling her back towards him until her back was pressed to his chest once more. One arm encircled her waist while the other hand reached for her clit. She nearly folded at the feeling, but his arm kept her to him, and suddenly she was right at the precipice of her release once more.

“Will you be good for me, Elena?”

She managed a nod, fingers digging into his forearm. His cock and fingers were relentless against her, and she felt like she was about to scream.

“Yes, I’ll be good for you, Elijah, I’m so- so close.”

“So good...” He murmured. “Cum for me.”

The pleasure erupted inside of her, her hips stuttering and her pussy clenching around him as she reached the brink of orgasm. Elijah groaned at the feeling of her coming undone around him, his hand falling away from her clit. He gripped her to him and thrusted inside of her a handful more times before spilling inside of her. Elena relished in the feeling of him in those last moments before he released her.

It was done.

Elena collapsed onto the bed with Elijah close by, unable to move, to think, even to breathe. He shifted himself over so as not to crush her, the pair panting deeply in the thralls of their desire.

The phrase total loss of purity echoed in her mind as she opened her eyes and looked upon Elijah. The shameless way she begged for him, the way her hips moved in search of him. She had corrupted herself entirely. Defiled by an Original.

In more ways than one, they were linked together forever.

After a minute, their breathing settled into silence.

“Do you think it’ll work?” She whispered.

Elijah looked over at her, sitting up slightly. He raised a hand to gently move one of the strands of her hair away from her face. It felt as intimate as anything they'd just done. The heat having died down between them, there was nothing left to do but face the music.

"I have long learned to keep hope at bay whenever Niklaus is involved."

Elena nodded. Of course he was right, but she tried not to look too concerned. He seemed to notice.

"I hope you don't regret this night too deeply if it does not. I recognize what a sacrifice this must've been for you."

Elena shook her head, mirroring him as she slowly sat up as well.

"I don't regret it, Elijah."

He smiled softly, and she returned it.

"Neither do I."

・❥・

The next morning after Elijah left, Damon arrived at her house. She could tell he was relieved that she was indeed alive, but simultaneously annoyed at having been ignored. He wore his usual leather jacket, black jeans and boots, with a few strands of black hair falling into his eyes. She couldn't help but compare the two men that were at her door just a few hours apart. A leather jacket and a suit.

"Oh good, you're still standing. Would've been nice to know." He raised his cellphone up as he crossed the threshold. "You know these nifty little things called cellphones? I called like three times."

She'd passed out almost immediately after Elijah had left, though she'd only been able to sleep a few hours before she couldn't ignore Damon any longer.

"Sorry, I just fell asleep. Bonnie and I were going through some old grimoires trying to find something." I hope that's convincing enough. She'd even made sure to shower and change after Elijah had left, not wanting Damon to risk sensing anything had been awry. She led him upstairs back up to her bedroom, desperate to go back to sleep.

"And? Did our witchy encyclopedia find anything?"

"She did, actually."

"Mhm. I bet."

Elena looked over at Damon with a raised brow at his suspicion and he met it with a smirk.

"You hatched a plan, didn't you?" He did the eye thing. Elena blinked and turned away, giving a noncommittal shrug.

"Not really. It was barely a plan."

"Fine, don't tell me." Damon closed the space between them with a single stride until he was looking down at Elena. He gave another smirk. "Just promise me it wasn't anything stupid."

Elena smiled. "You have my w- I mean, I promise."

Damon nodded once, then reached over her shoulder to grab something from her dresser. Elena's heart dropped when Elijah's red rose came into view. Damon twirled it between his fingers with narrowed eyes and a crooked smile.

"What's this, then?"

・❥・

Fin.

#the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries fic #tvd fic #tvd fanfic #elijah mikaelson #elena gilbert #elejah #elena x elijah #tvd smut #elijah mikaelson x elena gilbert #elijah mikaelson smut #elena gilbert smut #tvd au #tvd au fic #tvd smut au

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firefirefruit · 9 months

Text

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Twelve

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Twelve: Read Me, But Don't Weep

“Raya? Are you there?”

The clock ticks in the empty studio, wooden floors untouched by the sound of footsteps for days.

“We’re really worried, Raya. Please let me see you.”

Gramps used to be walking around the studio at this time of day. He’d have a steaming cup in hand as he’d trail past your empty workbench, a proud smile curling on his lips. He’d pick your blades up when he thought you weren’t watching and run his finger on their sharp edges.

“Sanji’s here with a meal for you.”

If his finger bled, he’d smile to himself with an approving sip of tea. If it didn’t, he would’ve peeled a post it note from the large stack you’d keep on your table.

“She still isn’t responding. I…I don’t know what to do…”

“Give her time, Nami-san. Look there.” A clinking of plates. The faint silhouette of a cigarette in hand. “She’s finished another bowl. That’s progress.”

He’d draw an arrow across the note using his non-dominant hand, balancing the cup in his other. He’d tack it on the metal, recap the pen, and sit outside with his journal.

The shadow of a small figure props up on his shoulder. “But her wounds, Sanji. If they don’t get tended to, I won’t sleep at night…”

An inhale of smoke. “I have an idea.”

“Look at me!” it would say. Very vague, very non-descriptive. But you’d instantly know what you needed to refine.

When he’d go to sleep, you’d snag the same scrawled-on note from your workspace, scrawl a goofy animal bowing, saying, ‘thank you, old man!’ underneath his text, and quickly slip it into his logbook.

You haven’t slept for days. It’s the anxiety - the sudden twang of loneliness that pulls in your chest when you’re in your bed; the light flickers, your eyes search for the time, and suddenly it hits you that Suki isn’t going to come into your room to wish you goodnight anymore.

The clock's unforgiving chime echoes at five in the morning. Your workshop, usually a sanctuary, feels stifling as you pace anxiously. A tumult of possibilities, questions, and thoughts overwhelms you, each one intensifying the tight knot in your chest, and frankly...

Well, frankly, when you close your eyes, you’re haunted by the image of those eyeballs.

One purple, one grey. One purple, one grey. One that makes you scream, the other that makes you cry.

Today’s the day you finally decide to go through his journal. Always meticulously placed on his favourite stool, its edges torn, and pages thickly bound with a multitude of Gramps-esque thoughts, it lays there from a distance as a heavy reminder of him.

When you open its contents, your fingers tracing through each page, a flurry of multicoloured papers roll out like a snowstorm, covering the floor with hundreds of small post-it notes.

“FLATTEN ME HERE >” one note says.

Below his instruction is your response, a drawing depicting a bear clasping its hands together, saying,

“Thanks, Gramps!”

A blue post-it note, this time:

“Good job. Very sharp.” Smudged traces of blood adorn the top of its corner.

“Need a plaster?” you respond, presenting a very detailed drawing of a smug human smile slapped on a cat’s face.

And you can’t help it. Tears seem to be pooling up in your eyes as you crouch to the floor, fingers gently going through each note in silence. You miss him. You feel out of control. You’re just…lost.

Gently, a soft rapping interrupts the stillness at the front door. Your attention sharply redirects to the source, and with a swift, almost instinctive motion, you vigorously swipe your face with the rough fabric of your sleeve as if trying to erase all emotion on your face.

“Good morning, Raya-san. I’ve put your breakfast outside the door…”

His figure lingers in the crook of the opaque door. He pulls a cigarette to his mouth, a hand tucked into his pockets, and he waits. Only for a second. Waiting to see if maybe this time, you’ll open the door.

True to expectations, there's no response from you. You're crouched on the floor, surrounded by a kaleidoscope of notes, observing his figure as it remains a mere blur. He exists as an elusive presence, unable to connect with you on any level beyond the provision of sustenance.

He fidgets slightly, pressing his legs away from the door.

“…Hey, just…please don’t forget to hydrate.”

As the echoes of his departing footsteps fade, you gradually unfurl from your crouched position. Moving with deliberate quietness, you approach the door, fingertips grazing its surface before grasping the knob. With a gentle turn, you lean in to peer through the peephole, confirming the emptiness beyond.

He's gone.

A sigh of relief escapes you as the door swings open. Your gaze drifts downward, and an overwhelming tide of gratitude and warmth floods your being. The remnants of his kindness linger in the air, a subtle yet tangible embrace. He tends to you, a guardian of care, even in the silence you offer, even when your words remain unspoken.

It’s the usual loving, simple breakfast that graces the front of your door.

Hot tea, no milk or sugar. Sliced apples and oranges adorn the plate like a bunch of blooming flowers - ripe to eat and fragrant to the nose - with a bowl of hand-made yoghurt resting by its side. Surprised, you cock your head at the meal - it's just the way you like it. You suppose that after a few days of testing out different meals with you, Sanji’s been closely observing what you have and haven’t been touching on your plate.

This time, however. you notice that there’s something obscure being propped in the corner of your eye; right next to the plate, there’s a big red box with a medic sign neatly painted across its lid.

“Chopper..." you mutter to yourself, running your fingers over the white medical bandages from within the box.

You feel so guilty – for all of it. You don’t deserve this level of kindness, this thoughtfulness that these members are showering you with. How ungrateful you are to not even open the door to thank them, to show them your face, to offer a smile and let them know that you’re going to be okay.

And still, without expecting anything in return, they still tend to you; Sanji feeds you, Nami sits in front of your door every day and obnoxiously talks to herself out loud, Chopper constantly worries for your physical health… All the while, you haven’t offered a reassuring word through the gap of your door.

Besides receiving it from Gramps, you haven’t experienced much unconditional love in your life - and that scares you. All of this scares you. Their love. It just...feels weird.

You find yourself perched on the floor, grappling with the swirling thoughts in your mind.

“What would you do if you were in my place?” Leaning in, you whisper to Suki's journal, your eyes carrying a silent plea for guidance. You feel the journal's roughened leather cover beneath your palm, your fingertips explore the edges of papers slightly unhinged from its binding.

Then, mid-bite, you pause. Your attention shifts as your fingers discover a loose piece of paper. It's strategically placed, almost as if meant for your eyes alone. Reading the words scrawled across its outer corner, you momentarily forget the apple in your hand, drawn into the unseen musings between the pages.

Raya. Read me.

Your heart pounds in your throat, immediately pulling the sheet out from its bound home.

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

Raya,

In the best-case scenario, I naturally left you as I gave you my parting words.

In the worst, I probably pretended not to know you.

All in all, I hope that as you read this, you start snapping the way you always do whenever I’m trying to get a rise out of you…

Raya, if I have passed, please let my body rest in Wano. After that, I want you to immediately get the hell out of that place and start living your life.

If I am alive - and this is incredibly imperative - do not look for me. I want you to imagine me as having passed, to immediately get the hell out of my workshop, and to start living your life.

There’s much I haven’t told you. Some say I’m better at writing words than speaking them, and I must wholeheartedly agree; I suppose that’s why I began writing in the first place. You still have a part of me within these entries. Words never die, but the memories of them do.

I’m very much aware that I hadn’t said this enough to you – perhaps out of my ‘Wano-esque’ pride, as you call it – but I am incredibly proud of you.

I’m glad that my granddaughter was the catalyst for kicking me out of my home country - because if it had never happened, I would have been a thankless old man, doing thankless things in the comfort of my own home. And that’s why…

I decided to join the Straw Hats behind your back.

I know you’re probably incredibly furious with me right now. But please hear me out before you do anything.

I’m sorry for doing this without you knowing, but I‘d somehow known that I wouldn’t have enough time to kick your ass out of my workshop before I’d be gone.

Raya, even if I’m too old for adventure, I want my spirit to watch over and follow yours. I joined so that you would simply have no other choice but to follow me.

Become the greatest blacksmith of your generation. Hell, become a pirate. Join me on the Sunny.

Kozuki Sukiyaki

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

The paper in your hand aggressively shudders, your gaze drifting to the door in front of you. You shove down the sob rising in your throat, fingernails digging into your skin.

He did what?

You’re seething. What the fuck? This actual hardass planned this all from the beginning. He knew. He knew something was going to happen and instead of informing you, he joined a fucking pirate crew.

Gramps would smile every time he’d open his journal, looking forward to every morning when he’d be able to read another new message.

You barge out the door, letter firmly grasped in your claws.

You’d stay in the workshop, pretending to be refining your blades, but in the corner of your eye, you’d be secretly watching, waiting for him to open his leather cover, and be met with your love.

The sunlight splinters through into your weakened eyes, the heat in your legs increasing as you begin charging towards the cave, towards the coastline, towards the fucking Sunny.

It was something so little, something so insignificant. But between you two, it was an earth-bending way of expressing your love, your gratitude to one another.

You leap onto the Sunny, standing straight in front of a knotted Luffy, his body stringing over the mast like a broken flag.

His eyes widen immensely as he sees you, breathing in a considerable amount of air, before screaming,

“RAYAAA-“

You throw your hand into the air, gaining more and more speed as your fingers plunge forward, and you strike at Luffy’s cheek.

You slap him. You slap Luffy with Gramps’ letter. Hard.

“Raya!” Usopp shrieks, running to restrain you. “What’s going on?”

“What did I do now?!” Luffy moans, wringing his arms around the mast.

“You let my old man join your crew?” You scream at Luffy, Usopp struggling to restrain you.

A synchronous “What?!” from the entire crew resounds on the Sunny, everyone momentarily forgetting their activities.

“Is it true, Luffy?” Chopper’s eyes are practically bulging.

“Oh, that!” Luffy scratches his head, a goofy grin plastered across his face, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing in your eyes. “Yeah, I did!”

"What do you mean, 'Yeah, I did'?" Sanji interjects, cigarette dangling from his lips. His usual calm demeanour cracks, revealing a hint of irritation.

Luffy shrugs, "He asked if he could join, and I said sure. He's a cool oldie."

Usopp struggles to hold you back as you seethe with anger, the letter crumpled in your grip. "Cool oldie? Luffy, he’s gone! He didn’t intend to actually join; he's trying to make me join. Do you understand?” Luffy, still clueless about the emotional turmoil he's caused, scratches his head again. “No?”

You find your voice, the anger giving way to a desperate plea. "Luffy, he did this because he knew he was going to be taken away, and he didn't want me to be left all alone. He wants me to join, to continue his legacy.”

Luffy's grin fades as he looks at you, the weight of the situation dawning on him. "Ohhhh…”

Zoro, who's been leaning against the mast with closed eyes, finally speaks up, "Luffy, you should've at least informed her. We don't know what she's been through."

You snap your head up, glaring straight at the fucking marimo.

“What did you just say?” You hiss.

Zoro, leaning against the mast with his eye still closed, seems undisturbed by your sharp retort. His posture remains relaxed, but there's a subtle tension in the air, an unspoken challenge between you and the swordsman.

Your glare, fuelled by frustration and betrayal, meets Zoro's closed eye. It's as if he can sense the storm of emotions within you, yet he remains unfazed.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Zoro opens his eye, revealing a keen gaze that pierces through the charged atmosphere. The intensity in his expression matches yours, a silent acknowledgment of the clash between two strong-willed spirits.

As you lock eyes with him, there's an unspoken understanding that goes beyond the immediate conflict. It's a recognition of shared defiance, a stubbornness that transcends words. Zoro doesn't look away; instead, he meets your gaze head-on, challenging you to confront the emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

Usopp, sensing the escalating tension, takes a step back, observing the interaction between you and Zoro with a raised eyebrow.

You take a step forward, still seething with anger, and Zoro, in response, pushes himself off the mast. The distance between you two narrows, and the air crackles with the unresolved energy of conflicting emotions.

“Don’t act like you understand anything,” you hiss, your voice laced with bitterness. “You’re the one who let him get taken.”

Zoro's eyes narrow at your accusation, a flicker of irritation breaking through his calm exterior. The crew, still frozen in the wake of your outburst, watches the confrontation unfold with a mixture of surprise and concern.

"I didn't let him get anything," Zoro retorts, his voice low and steady. "Your old man made his own choice. Don't put that on me."

Your fists clench at your sides, the pain and anger surging through you. The words you exchanged with Suki's journal replay in your mind, intensifying the overwhelming emotions. You take another step forward, closing the gap between you and Zoro, your eyes locked in a battle of wills.

"He joined the crew to protect you," Zoro continues, his gaze unwavering. "He wanted you to live freely, without being tied down to whatever he’s hiding."

"He didn't need to join a crew of pirates for that," you shoot back, your voice shaking with rage and sorrow. "He could've told me. He could’ve let me choose my own choices."

Zoro's jaw tightens, and a rare hint of emotion flashes in his eyes.

Franky and Chopper, still on edge, watch the intense exchange between you and Zoro.

You tear your gaze away from Zoro, the anger subsiding into a heavy sadness. Your shoulders slump, and the weight of the recent events presses down on you; everyone watches, unsure of how to comfort you in your moment of vulnerability.

Luffy's expression turns more serious as he looks at you, "He said not to tell you…He wanted it to be a surprise."

You hold the paper in your hand like grasping at the last remnants of your grandfather. "Luffy, do you have any idea what he wrote in this letter?"

The crew falls silent, awaiting your response. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before speaking.

"He said if he's alive, I shouldn't look for him. Pretend he’s dead. Continue living my life as if nothing ever happened. I’m sick of him telling me what to do, Luffy. I’m sick of the secrets and the surprises and...and...."

The weight of those words hangs in the air, a heavy silence settling over the tumbling waves. Nami places a warm hand on your shoulder, squeezing you in comfort.

“Something bad’s happening,” you say, looking at each and everyone in the eye. “I can just feel it. And there’s no chance that I’m going to just… let my old man...”

“Then, join us,” Luffy intervenes, crossing his arms.

You stare at him, taken aback by his bluntness. “Did you not listen to anything I just said?"

“I did,” Luffy affirms with a nod. He steps towards you, placing a hand on the other side of your shoulder, and offers you a slight smile. “No hard feelings, Swords, but we’re gonna grab Gramps with or without you being a part of our crew. And this time, it’s your choice. Not Gramps. Not anybody’s. Yours. You choose.”

"I..." You pause, unsure of what to say. "I mean..."

Luffy cocks his head at you, beaming.

"Well? What's it gonna be?"

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copperbadge · 3 months

Note

Hi Sam. A potentially stupid question. Image descriptions for screen readers. Do they work the same way for audio and video? As in are they needed or helpful? I'm finding conflicting answers when I search for this.

Not at all a stupid question! I think sometimes it can vary by community, to be honest.

Screen-reader users, visually impaired folk, and others for whom IDs are particularly relevant, feel free to chime in; I'm going to ramble and you likely have more useful stuff to say. Remember to do it in reblogs or notes, as I don't post asks sent in response to other asks.

I'm not visually impaired, and I don't use a screen reader and thus am not really able to speak with firsthand authority. In the past, when I've asked, I've heard that in-post text is better than alt-text for images; even if that stops being the case, I prefer to use in-post text because there are people who aren't screen-reader users who also like the IDs. I do too, actually. And generally I've heard that video as well as image should be described. I don't do straight audio generally, but when I do, if it's a song I don't bother because the title is there and lyrics are googleable, if it's speech I like to see/give a transcript.

I like when videos have descriptions especially, because I am almost never in a position to play a video I see on my dash. If the video doesn't autoplay I don't want to hit play because then it will load with audio and I'm usually either a) somewhere I can't have audio or b) already listening to something and unwilling to turn it off. If the video autoplays it's muted, but if it's audio-heavy there's the same issue. So if someone posts a video without a description/transcript, unless it has captions, I can't engage.

There are a lot of guides out there for how to write IDs and I kind of think, based on conversations I've had, most of them are bullshit by people who don't use screen readers. In my experience, which is not universal but is relatively comprehensive, people who can't see an image often do not want a precise objective description as we're instructed to provide.

There's a great essay that touches on this, Against Access, where the writer, who is Deafblind, talks about how he doesn't want a diagram, he wants an emotional evocation.

Why are you telling me, telling me, telling me things? Your job isn’t to deliver this whole room to me on a silver platter. I don’t want the silver platter. I want to attack this room. I want to own it, just like how the sighted people here own it. Or, if the room isn’t worth owning, then I want to grab whatever I find worth stealing.

I've had people get shitty with me about putting "feelings" into my IDs, but the majority of people for whom those IDs are necessary have told me they like it because, for example, saying "She looks like she's about to commit violence" is a subjective opinion but conveys something that "A woman is standing with arms upraised and a frown on her face" does not. And if you're describing an image but there's not a ton of meaning to it, describing it in clinical detail is wasting time. A paragraph describing a fortysomething white guy and all the clothing he's wearing and the room he's in is not as helpful, on occasion, as simply saying "This is a photograph of me in my bedroom." It depends on context, which is your call to make, and the only way to get good at that is to do it.

But again: this is my experience with my readers, and even John Lee Clark, quoted above, doesn't speak for his whole community. So I would suggest that the best way to get an answer for this is just to ask your readers what they'd prefer. If you have friends who use screenreaders, ask them. If you don't, or if you don't get a response from your readers, I would do what you feel is best until someone tells you otherwise, and then be gracious and discuss it with them so you can better understand their needs. In my experience, when someone is genuinely trying to make a more welcoming space for disabilities -- as opposed to making virtue-signal attempts to Be The Perfect Ally -- they get a lot of slack when they don't get it exactly right. It is better to make a welcoming space for people to feel safe telling you that you fucked up than it is to pretend you're never going to fuck up.

So yeah, as someone who is more or less fully sighted, that's my two cents, but if you really want to know what your readers want, you know...I'd ask them. :) Good luck, either way.

#disability #image identification #lord knows I'm not perfect with mine #but I like to think generally I'm responsive to need instead #which is more important

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stressfulsloth · 1 year

Note

In regards to your post “and now I'm. Just thinking about the loneliness that is SO pervasive through Elysium.”…

I have one thing to offer, or perhaps nitpick if you’d prefer it that way.

I don’t think it’s entirely fair to say the Sunday Friend isn’t a real friend. The Smoker On The Balcony believes him to be a real friend, even if he isn’t going to be there come Monday morn. But isn’t that enough? A friend on Sunday is still a friend, even if it makes waking up Monday all the worse.

Perhaps I’m biased though! Now that I think about it, most of my friends would fit the description. “Fair weather friend” feels to cold, but “sunday friend” is good enough.

And of course none of this is to say your post is at all wrong. It’s lovely and true. I just felt the need to quarrel publicly with that little detail.

To conclude, since I really just did not make myself very clear here; you are utterly correct to include the Sunday Friend in a post about loneliness but I take slight issue with saying he’s not a real friend. And so I wrote you a very long ask. And now as I reach it’s end I’m realising this was a very silly undertaking. But I’ve come this far so I’m going to grow a pair and hit “ask”.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope it isn’t too desperately obnoxious.

Peace out ✌️

Ahh man I'm sorry anon but I'm going to have to disagree with you pretty strongly here 😅 tbh I was a little too easy on him in the original post. It's not necessarily the temporary nature of their acquaintance that makes the Sunday Friend's friendship questionable on its own, although it doesn't help.

The Sunday Friend is quite literally not a friend. "Friend" in his title is a euphemism; he's not coming to visit the Smoker because he's his friend. He's coming to visit the smoker to do a bit of poverty tourism, to admire the crumbling place that his beliefs have helped to destroy, and a bit of heavily implied sex tourism too. A "first world" tourist, a bureaucrat from the international government, visiting one of the most impoverished districts of Revachol to spend his nights with a student. He's not the Smoker's friend, he's a client. They're using 'friend' as a stand-in for his actual role, which is a) as a part of the moralist bureaucratic system repressing the revolution and keeping the city as a whole trapped in a laissez faire purgatory easily exploited by foreign capitalists and ultraliberals, while still maintaining a friendly respectable face, and b) as the Smoker's customer, exploiting the poverty of Martinaise's residents to get what he wants for cheap and using the easy mobility that his money and status give him. Imo he's intended narratively as a parallel for the moralist coalition government; he views from a distance, focused on money and *ze price stabilité* but entirely divorced from the poverty and consequence of his work. Happy to dip his toe in and make use of exploitable populations in Revachol, but always ready to leave too. When asked how he became 'friends' with the smoker, his response is literally to describe the coalition occupying Revachol.

He knows so little about the Smoker beyond him being there to study art, but what kind? "Perhaps graphic design? Printmaking? Who knows?" As to your point about the Smoker thinking he's a real friend, the Smoker is under no illusions about who the Sunday Friend is. An injection of money. Someone with power, someone with the mobility afforded to him by ownership of a non-Revacholian passport, someone content to watch the place decay and do nothing but indulge himself in pet projects and worry about bureaucracy. Someone with the freedom to leave when things get bad; a freedom that is narratively only assigned to a rare few extremely bourgeois characters. Dora, on her flight to Mirova, Joyce and her boat, Trant and his academic travels, and the Sunday Friend who will be out of Martinaise like a shot the moment things start to kick off despite being a part of the overarching structure that is responsible for Revachol's subjugation and rising political tensions. The Sunday Friend will use the Smoker's labour, use the vulnerability of Revachol's precarious situation to his advantage, then once it becomes too precarious or he gets bored, he'll withdraw. In answer to your question, no, I don't think that's enough. Again I probably oversimplified in my last post but the loneliness all throughout DE is not just an emotional state but a political one. Alienation is a major theme. As is the impossibility of building community in the face of capitalism relentlessly subsuming anything in its path, in the face of shallow relationships dictated by the need for survival. The Sunday Friend embodies that concept perfectly. He is exquisitely shallow in conversation, a perfect moralist who at all times strives to remain impartial and distant.

Anyway. Tldr; my point is that the relationship between the Smoker and the Sunday Friend is far more transactional, and far more exploitative, than you seem to believe. "Friend" is not being used literally but euphemistically. A 'fairweather friend' is better than none, sure, but that's entirely inapplicable to this situation. Sorry for the long post and I hope it's not too rambling- I'm surviving on very little sleep right now but I hope it clears up for you a bit why I referred to the Sunday friend in that way initially.

#disco elysium #sunday friend #long post #sorry this is such a long reply- there is so much more that i could add but i am cutting myself off or I'd carry on forever

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dresshistorynerd · 1 year

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How to see through the greenwashing propaganda of the fashion industry - 1

For some background info I made an overview about the impact of fashion industry.

In the light of the Shein brand trip nonsense, I was thinking about how literally every clothing company now engages in greenwashing, even when it's such obvious lie like with Shein. And while most people are not fooled in such blatant cases like that, most cases are not as blatant. To see through the less obvious propaganda often needs a lot of knowledge of the clothing industry, which the average person doesn't have, yet the average person still needs clothing. So instead of trying to expose every company for their bad practices, I thought it might be more helpful to make a post on how to detect greenwashing. I'm going to use four examples, all in the different levels of honesty and responsibility, Shein, H&M, Burberry and Tentree. First I will go into frankly unnecessary amount of detail on Shein, because I fell into a horrifyingly fascinating research rabbit hole and I think it's excellent example on how companies can get away with blatant crimes (allegedly of course). In this first part we will just look into Shien, it's propaganda and reality behind it.

But before I go deeper into this, I want to stress one thing: this is not to say that you can never buy from any brand engaging in dishonest greenwashing, because then you couldn't buy almost any clothing, and you do need clothing. Though I will say, please don't buy from Shein if you in any way can afford not to. There is levels of how bad business practices can be, and they can't be much worse than Shein's, and even beside that, even when super cheep, it's not worth your money. There are other cheep options too. Though I won't hold it against anyone if they buy individual pieces from Shein from time to time, but I would implore at least to considerate, if they really need it and if it might be possible to get something similar from somewhere else. But my point in this is not necessarily to help you make better consumer decisions, because consumption will not save us, but to see through the corporate propaganda and not become complaisant after hearing comforting lies. The corporations are doing everything they can to make you believe they are already fixing the problems within the industry and there's no need for government intervention pinky promise, just keep consuming. But that's all bullshit and government intervention is exactly what is needed.

Before taking a look at our cases, I'll outline the key things I think are good to look for, when presented with sustainability PR.

TRANSPARENCY - Companies are not required to publish much of the information about their practices, but as it has become clear to everyone that the whole fashion industry is a massive problem, opacity has become rightly seen as suspicious. It has become also a sort of marketing method to disclose any evidence of good practices, so when a company is not doing that, and missing out on well working marketing, it raises the question, what are they hiding. Companies may try to give the appearance of transparency, without actually disclosing information. They might write in an easily accessible page about all their lofty goals, promises and achievements in a very vague language, they might talk about being transparent and publishing their data, but that data might be buried somewhere, where it's not easily accessible. Good sign on the other hand would be for example providing supply chain information for a product in the product description.

RELIABLE INFORMATION - Usually it's safer for a company to be vague or silent than to lie, because that might lead to legal consequences, but by cherry-picking and subtly twisting data, it can be turned to be flattering for them. Small companies might provide raw evidence of their facilities and supply chain, like photos, locations, contractor names etc. to give proof for their word. For bigger companies this is not of course possible as their supply chains might be massive and they might have thousands of facilities. However, there are many different independent and governmental organizations that give different kinds of certifications. The certifications are meant to give some reassurance of quality and/or accurate information. However not all certifications are made equal. Most reliable certifications don't have ties to the industry (aka are actually independent, not just in name), have governmental oversight and are given access to the data, from which they do the research themselves.

SUPPLY CHAIN - Giving the origin country of the final product is nowadays standard information to give, as it's required by law for example in EU. It's a red flag, if it's produced in a country, that has lacking environmental or labour laws, poor oversight and/or little protections for people. However, this does not mean that all production in those countries is unethical or questionable, but the risk for that is higher and the need for evidence of the working conditions is also higher. This is however just one part of the production. Before clothing can be sewn, the raw material for fiber must be made/acquired, that material must be turned into fiber, which must be turned into yarn and then the yarn must be woven into fabric. All of these steps in the process need workers, who deserve good working conditions. And depending on what fabric is in question, there's potential for major environmental issues in the different processes. This is why it's important to know more than just the country where the clothing was sewn. There could be certification for ethical sourcing of the fabric for example. With supply chain it's also better if the materials are sourced as locally as possible, to avoid a lot of extra carbon emissions from transportation. Best case scenario would be if the company manages the supply chain themselves locally, so they can know for sure where their materials come from and also avoid middlemen.

BUSINESS MODEL - The reason why it's often so hard to get information on the supply chain is that many companies, especially the large ones, outsource as much as possible. This might seem unintuitive, as the middlemen make production less efficient and costly as everyone takes a cut. However, they do it to outsource risks and responsibility. They don't have to invest into factories or raw material production and they have plausible deniability, if and when there's issues in their supply chain. The complexity of the supply chain provides opacity that is impossible and unreasonable to monitor, which allows the company to buy materials that are unreasonably cheep, while feigning ignorance of worker exploitation. How much the clothing cost can also give some idea on their business model. If it's super cheep, the only way for it to be that cheep is if workers are not payed enough and everything is poorly made. Cheep is always a red flag, though, if it's fairly cheep and I mean basic clothing is not much more than 100 eur (little more in USDs) but not much less than 50 eur, it can be okay or even good quality and with proper pay for workers, if the company doesn't take massive margins and don't have a ton of middlemen in their supply chain. However, expensive is not insurance of quality or good pay for workers. Many expensive brands take massive margins while their production has little difference to fast fashion and their products are poor quality.

CASE STUDY 1: SHEIN

Let's start with the propaganda. In Shein's About Us page, they say:

"SHEIN is a global fashion and lifestyle e-retailer committed to making the beauty of fashion accessible to all."

You see, their goal is to make fashion accessible to everyone, not just privileged few. They back this up by informing how they work in 150 countries, have very wide variety of clothing, are one of the most popular shopping apps, connect with the customers on where they are - social media - and, of course, have ridiculously low prices. Their team of nearly 10,000 employees (of which 58% are women for your information) loves to serve their many many customers, who are most important for Shein. They use "cutting-edge technology" and digitized agile supply chain to track sales and demand and adjust their manufacturing in real time. When they notice a new trend, they immediately put something trendy on sale, make prototypes and order small batches from factories. This is how they keep their inventory waste low and get products quickly to their customers. In their own words:

"By developing proprietary logistics and ecommerce technology, we are disrupting the fashion space and improving outcomes for manufacturers, suppliers and consumers."

We will see, if the "outcomes" are really "improved".

Shein group's website has very extensive information about their sustainability goals and efforts, giving the impression of transparency. It's pretty clear this is in an effort to combat all the allegations towards them. To make their business sustainable in addition to their reduced inventory waste they are "accelerating their transition" to use recycled polyester, promoting their "peer-to-peer resale platform" for Shein products, "eshtablishing" a recycling program for end-of-life products, tracing the material supply chain through their own material tracking platform and conserving forests by replacing viscose with "next generation fibers".

Most of the information they provide is fully meaningless corporate speak and should be taken with the biggest bucket of salt, so let's ask some questions.

DO THEY PROVIDE SPECIFIC DATA ABOUT THEIR PRODUCTION? Surprisingly Shein is much more transparent than I expected. (Though of course the info is in different website than where the average consumer would go.) Shein hasn't taken the standard route, which is to provide as little information as possible, and keeping it vague too, se they could just keep feigning ignorance. As I said, I think it's pretty clear they are providing this much information because their reputation is so bad. Their lack of transparency has been taken as an admission of guilt, so it's not working anymore, and they have taken a new approach into maintaining their plausible deniability. In their website, they provide a sustainability report from years 2021 and 2022. I took a look at the latest one. In it there's a lot of fluff, but they show actual numbers of how many code of conduct violations have been found in audits to supplier facilities, the carbon emissions of their supply chain and the amounts of different fabrics they have used during 2022. That's not nothing, so we have a relatively good start here.

WHO DID THE RESEARCH? The research is not at all independent, but done in-house. They have all the financial incentives to cherry-pick and frame their research in a way that shows them in the best possible light, even if we assumed they would not tamper with their own evidence, which I don't think we can fully assume either. There's an attempt though to convince us to believe the data they are showing:

"We have reported with reference to the Global Reporting Initiative (GRI) 2021 standard for certain sections of this report. Selected information in this report was assured, to the limited assurance standard, by an external independent assurer as per ISAE 3000."

Emphasis by me. So even if they did the research themselves, they did get it independently audited to get an assurance that they did follow the GRI standards in their reporting and that it doesn't contain lies. However, the "certain sections" and "selected information" with "limited assurance" does not give me much assurance, in fact, my assurance is very limited. To understand what does this actually mean, I did a bit of googling and delved into the annex of the report.

ISAE 3000 is a standard for auditing financial information issued by International Auditing and Assurance Standards Board, which an independent body that has governmental oversight. Financial information can get either reasonable assurance or limited assurance. Reasonable assurance is the most assurance this standard allows. Limited assurance is given, if the information provided to the assurer, time or extent of the procedure is lacking, but from those limited resources the assurer doesn't find anything that suggests "the subject matter information is materially misstated" aka that the company is lying. GRI is the most used reporting standard for sustainability for businesses and other organizations. I'm a bit suspicious of how effective their standards are, if they are most widely used, since most companies are absolutely terrible about sustainability yet they all claim they are great with it. So I decided to check who is in the board. Unsurprisingly it's mostly representatives of massive corporations, including Coca Cola and DuPond, a professor of accounting, national research director of Australia's Mining and Energy Union and one (1) environmental scientist.

The annex revealed quite interesting details. The only information that was AssuredTM (in a limited manner) for accurate information was the data on Shein's emissions and that of code of conduct violations. Only the report on emissions was AssuredTM (in a limited manner) to follow GRI standards. Shein got to select and prepare the relevant data for the audition, which was according to it, lacking. Crucially the audition report states that they didn't verify the results of supply audits or any potential violations of labor law found in them, rather they just checked that the math on the grading of the audits matched with Shein's stated criteria and that they actually did the audits. So if you really think about it, the (limited) assurance is that they graded themselves like they promised they would, not that their reporting of the amounts of violated labor laws or even just their own code of conduct was accurate. Additionally assurance of the accuracy of the emissions was only of Shein's own facilities, which do not produce any of their products, but not of their supply chain. 99,7% of their emissions come from their supply chain. So keep all this in mind when we look at the data itself.

WHAT ARE THEIR CARBON EMISSIONS AND HOW ARE THEY CALCULATED? Shein's emissions were 9,17 million tonnes of CO2, or 9,22 million tonnes if we don't count them purchasing Renewable Energy Credits. To put it into perspective that would be around 0,27-0,3% of the estimation of the annual emissions of the whole textile industry. Now that would be pretty low. In fact, suspiciously low. The fact that they got their own emissions auditioned, but not the emissions of their supply chain, suggests to me that perhaps, their numbers don't hold up to scrutiny. They also don't disclose their methodology for the numbers of the supply chain, like they do with their own facilities. Of course their response would be to say it's so much easier for them to calculate their own emissions than their suppliers. But I say that's not a bug, that's a feature.

Though looking at the methodology of the emissions from their own operating sites, which includes warehouses and offices, they don't take into account at all any emissions from building anything. They grew massively between 2021 and 2022 and I find it hard to believe they didn't built any of the new offices or warehouses they gained. Certainly they would have bought a lot of new equipment even if they moved to existing buildings. But none of this is taken into account in their calculations. And I must assume, it's not taken into account in their supply chain calculations either.

Even if we took them at their word, by their own admission, their carbon emissions have grown from 2021 to 2022 52%, which is alarming. (Interestingly they use the 2021 numbers in their actual website, which I think is so misleading that it's basically a lie.) They write it off as just side effect of their massive growth in production volume, which had 57% increase during the same time frame.

"We are at the beginning of our mitigation journey and began implementing decarbonization programs at the end of fiscal year 2022."

So they first scale their business as fast as they can, having absolutely no care of the environmental effect, so that when they have massive market share, and they reduce their massive emissions slightly, they can be like "oh look we did something!" They can then moan and wail how hard and time consuming it is to reduce the emissions of an existing supply chain, when they were the ones who decided to not take that into account from the start. Their "science based goal" (which they repeatedly stress in their website) is to reduce their emissions 25% by 2030. It's nothing. Less than nothing. They scaled without care their production in a time, when our ecology is collapsing, and then they claim that it's just science we possibly can't do anything about it. Apparently it's a natural law that they just have to make more and more money, like gravity.

WHAT MATERIALS DO THEY USE? Last year 64% of Shein's clothing (measured in weight) was polyester. Production of polyester is estimated to count for 40% of all carbon emissions of the textile industry. It's also a plastic made out of oil, so we have to take into account the fracking and refinement of oil and the eventual release of the CO2 from the oil that would have been secured in the ground otherwise. This most certainly is not counted into the supply chain emissions. Shein loves to pay lip service to the idea of circular economy, but they don't actually think about it. Because if they did, they would have taken into account the microplastics polyester fabric sheds when it's washed. When microplastics get into the soil and freshwater, they get into the organs of animals, including us, and they don't easily come off. Already it has been shown that they have led to the decrease of small soil fauna, which are very important for the fertility of the soil. Over time microplastics also break down further into nanoplastics. There's already evidence of nanoplastics being small enough to pass through veins into the brain, and that causing behavioral changes in fish. We don't know the long term consequences off this micro and nano plastic pollution yet, and we're just seeing the effects they have on small animals, but as they built up over years and decades inside our organs, we well likely see much larger effects.

Important for the lifecycle thinking is not just focusing on how much burden the production puts on the environment, but also how long it lasts and how can it be reused and eventually the impact of the end of it's lifecycle. If you remember from the beginning, Shein claims to take all this into account by having a resale program, somewhere in the future establishing a recycling program for unusable old clothes and increasing their share of recycled polyester. This is nothing. Again it's less than nothing. Polyester is not only bad fabric because of the things I've already said, but it's also just as a material for clothing very weak. It's not warm or breathable, which makes it at the same time sweaty and cold. It has no anti-bacterial qualities at all (which basically all natural fabrics have at least to small extent), so when you get easily sweaty in it, it starts also smelling very easily, and so needs washing very often. On top of washing releasing microplastics, it also weakens the fabric, because polyester doesn't get stronger when wet unlike plant fibers, like cotton and linen. Other synthetic fibers even get weaker when wet. Polyester is also very hard to dye effectively and has bad color retaining properties, so it needs chemical treatments and strong industrial dyes, all of which adds to it's carbon footprint and toxic pollution. Bad color retaining properties though also mean it looses it's color quite easily when washed. All of this makes it's life span significantly shorter than natural fabrics. I mean with some natural fabrics like wool and silk we are talking about multiple decades, with polyester it's easily in the low one digit years. These are inherent issues with polyester, but Shein clothes have repeatedly got complaints of their poor quality in general. This makes the resale program frankly meaningless.

On the surface the recycling program for polyester sounds good, right? You don't have to use more oil and use as much energy in making of it (according to Shein themselves, which again not a trustworthy source, it saves up to 70% emissions). Shein has promised to increase their share of recycled polyester to 31% of their polyester usage by 2030. Currently less than 1% of their production is recycled polyester. This is however a terrible solution. It still sheds microplastics and it's even worse as a fabric than virgin polyester. It is weaker and stiffer, making it impossible to use on it's own in fabric but when mixed with other fibers in a fabric significantly shortens it's life span. When we take into account the lifecycle of a clothing, the length of it and it's lifetime emissions become much more important than the production emissions. If you have to produce from scratch new clothing three times, in the time you could be using another clothing, it doesn't really matter if the emissions during the production were somewhat lower. (There's little reliable and comparable data available on production emissions of different fabrics, so I don't know how exactly recycled polyester compares to different natural fabrics.) Especially when we take into account the consumer use emissions, which in the case of polyester are 30% of it's lifetime emissions. And wast majority of it comes from washing, which you have to do more with polyester (how much more depends on what fabric you compere it to). Any responsible disposal of polyester at the end of it's lifecycle, especially any attempts at recycling it, cause additional emissions, unlike with natural fibers, which naturally degrade.

WHERE ARE THE SUPPLIERS? Shein boasts having fully integrated digital supply chain and with it they can track the whole supply chain of individual product. However they don't reveal any of that information publicly. Or rather only thing we know is that their factories making the end products are in China. But the question is, where does their fabrics come from? There's no countries listed in their report in any capacity and none of their products have any information of their origins nor the origins of the fabrics. This is very suspicious in my opinion. We can get no indication on how fibers might have been produced and made into fabric from the labor and environmental laws and practices of different countries. However, there is an interesting bit in the report about cotton:

"For cotton products, to further enhance our compliance with US laws, we request that our manufacturing suppliers only source cotton from Australia, Brazil, India, the United States and other approved regions."

This sentence is there pretty obviously because they have been caught selling clothing with cotton grown in Xinjiang in US markets, which US has banned. This is because Xinjiang, the Autonomous Uighur region, where 90% of China's raw cotton is grown, has been accused of genocidal oppression of the Uighur population, including having massive forced labour camps for Uighurs. Because of the police state nature of Xinjiang, there's no reliable numbers on how much of the cotton is produced with forced labour, but presumably most of it. Moreover, China limits the imports of cotton, which is why only 20% of cotton used by the textile industry in China is imported. Shein claims they know exactly where their fabrics come from, but the wording of the sentence above makes it clear they don't even plan on enforcing any policy to use imported cotton by their suppliers. Cotton is just 10% of fabric they used last year, but given their massive production volume, it's still a lot. This gets us to our next question.

IS THERE PROOF OF GOOD WORKING CONDITIONS? Shein reports doing in total 2 812 audits into 1 941 of their 5 400 contract manufacturers. According to them it accounted for 84% of their Shein branded products (so not their other 10 brands). This information, if you remember, was given limited assurance, by the audition into their numbers. However, we are to trust Shein alone that the reports of their auditions are accurate. I'm not really willing to trust them, but let's sustain our disbelief for a moment to look at their findings. From their report:

"A: 90 points and above: minor flaws. Continued improvement is advised. B: 75 to 90 points: some general risks. Continued improvement is advised. C: 60 to 75 points: 1-3 major risks. Corrective action is required. D: below 60 points: >3 major risks. Corrective action is required. ZTV: Zero Tolerance Violation detetected. Immediate corrective action is required."

Even without knowing what do these things mean in practice, I don't think this paints a pretty picture. Only 4% of their manufacturing facilities had minor flaws and 82% of their facilities have major risks or worse? Does that mean none of their manufacturers fully comply with their Code of Conduct? They try to make it sound like it looks this bad because they have tightened their criteria and still the numbers are better than last year, but even with all of that, this is imo unacceptable. But it gets worse.

The report shows the amount of each ZTV found in the audits. This was explicitly not assured in any way by an independent party, so considering this information is given despite the lack of oversight and the interests of Shein, it's grim. Most of the 11% of ZTVs were gross safety violations. For example 4,2% of the audits, which means 118 facilities, found lacking emergency exits. However, they also found child labour in 6 facilities and forced labour in 3 facilities. So according to their own reporting, their manufacturers have used child labour and forced labour. And just to remind you, this is covering just 36% of their contract manufacturers. What I found interesting (read disturbing), was that violence or sexual misconduct against workers were not among Zero Tolerance Violations. I know it's not a situation, where they don't consider it violation of Code of Conduct, but rather just calls the police and let them handle it, because the violations counted here are based on their CoC, in which there's an item 7 named "No harassment or abuse of employees", which explicitly forbids physical, sexual, mental and verbal abuse. They don't however breakdown the make up of the non-ZTV violations that have occured, nor do their reveal how are they graded the ratings, so there's really no way to know what the 71% of their manufacturers have done to warrant their low (C or D) grading.

Would you at this point be surprised, if I told you it gets worse? Yeah, their so called Zero Tolerance Violations are not very zero tolerance after all. You might think zero tolerance means, that if manufacturers are caught doing it, their contract is immediately terminated and they are reported to authorities? Well, let's look what is the "immediate corrective action" outlined in their Responsible Sourcing Policy. Among the ZTVs they define even more zero tolerance violations, let's say negative tolerance violations. These are 1. forging documents, bribery or refusing to get assessed 2. child labour and 3. forced labour. Surely these lead to immediate contract termination and reporting to authorities?

So if Shein encounters slavery or probable coverup of it in their facilities, they stop placing new orders until the enslaved people and children are taken somewhere else or otherwise their contracts are fixed (at least for now), so there's no more slavery in sight, when someone comes back to assess them again and decides it's all good to continue business as usual. They have 30 days to make everything look like there's no issues, which sounds pretty easy task, and after that they can grab the kids and the slaves back there like nothing happened. Also notice how they didn't say they demand stopping the work entirely in the facility, just that they'll stop placing orders? Yeah, they don't stop production even if they find literal children or enslaved people producing them. Gotta get those dresses to the customer.

If they find any other ZTV, they come back in 30 days, and if the violation continues, they give a warning, come back again in 30 days, and if still the issue is there, then they stop placing orders. After that it continues like with child or forced labour violations. If after another 30 days it's not fixed, the contract is terminated. If a supplier gets two ZTVs within two years, they go straight to the even less than zero tolerance model straight away. If they get three ZTVs in two years, then their contract is immediately terminated. Nothing different happens though, if you get caught doing child or forced labour two times in two years, so you can just get caught once a year as long as you always pretend to stop doing it. But even if you do get caught third time in two years, or fail to pretend you fixed it, it's fine, you'll just have to do other stuff for the next year, and then you can apply again to work with Shien. Also the policy does not at any point require reporting these alleged crimes to authorities. If they at some point stop placing orders for a supplier (for example because of child or forced labour), they have to just sent all the files and documents of the goods that are produced by that supplier during the time they aren't giving them new orders to the relevant tax and customs authorities.

To answer the question I started this section with, sounds like Shein provides more evidence of bad working conditions in their suppliers' facilities, than they provide evidence of good working conditions. They even give evidence that their monitoring of those conditions is just a joke, and they have no mechanisms to actually get rid of suppliers who have inhumane working conditions. Elsewhere they try to give very weak evidence of good working conditions. The influencer brand trip to their facility in China was a PR stunt like that. However, it's easily dismissable, as the facility was not at one of the factories, where their clothing is made, all of which are third parties, but Shien's own facility they call Innovation Center. There they innovate new technologies, train their suppliers to use their new technologies and consult their suppliers on how to make new factories, which I assume means they have factory templates to give to their suppliers.

However, independent sources give much more reliable evidence of terrible working conditions in their factories. Like when undercover operation into one of their factories found employees working 18 hours a day earning 2 cents per item. When asked for comment, they answered: "Any non-compliance with this code is dealt with swiftly, and we will terminate partnerships that do not meet our standards." This is not severe ZTV, so what they mean by "dealt with swiftly" is "told to stop breaking labour laws, given some time, given warning, given more time, stopped giving new orders, given even more time and if after three months they have not stop then they gotta go". Because yes, they do terminate those who don't meet their standards. Their standards are just in the gutter.

HOW IS THE COMPANY STRUCTURED? While falling down this rabbit hole I came to the realization that Shein is the Uber of fashion. It's just the gig economy all over again. Let me explain. Unlike traditional fashion companies, Shein has outsourced even the sewing of the clothing. Shein itself is an app company, like Uber, though they technically do design their own clothes. I say technically because they have been repeatedly accused of copyright infringement to the point where they are now sued for racketeering. Allegation from the lawsuit:

"Shein has grown rich by committing individual infringements over and over again, as part of a long and continuous pattern of racketeering, which shows no sign of abating."

It relates to the other reason why I say their only technically design too, because a huge amount of their designs are also outsourced. In their sustainability report, they boast about how their SHEIN X program is meant to "empower" young designers to get their business off the ground, by taking their designs and using them for their clothing productions. This sounds a lot like SHEIN X designers are gig workers. They are basically just designers for Shein, but oh no they are not workers, labour laws won't apply! Shein specifically targets young designers, even students, so it's clear that they really just want impressionable people desperate for money and work experience. Obviously they won't get much money for their designs, since there's such a massive flood of products and designers, Shein says they have 3 000 designers in SHEIN X, and the products are so, so cheep. It's the exact same thing as with Uber and the like, they put their "workers" into competition with each other. To tie it back to the lawsuit, they use these third party designers as fodder against accusations of copyright infringement. They did not steal the design from the independent artist, they are just the platform provider.

This is also exactly how they operate with their factories. When their massive production is spread across all the 5 400 small separate suppliers, they are forced to compete for scraps. They can't organize together to demand better pay or better working conditions, and Shein can act like they have no part in them. Moreover, due to their extremely low prices, Shein has to offer only really low rates for the production of their clothing. On top of that because of the contractor structure, the actual fanctory owners taken an extra cut from those low rates, leaving extremely little for the actual workers. The prices are so low, they demand inhumane working conditions. It's impossible to sell clothing in the prices Shein does and pay well for the workers, especially with their business structure. All the talk about technological innovation is also bullshit, because this gig economy competition model ensures that most of the gig workers (in this case factories) will stay poor, so they can hardly invest in the new technologies.

This model is also what Shein holds as their most significant sustainability claim, because it allows them to cut most inventory waste. Traditional fashion companies always have a significant overhead, because their supply must always be higher than demand, otherwise, they would loose customers to their competitors. Because Shein orders small batches from large amount of factories, they can change their production in real time, adjusting to the demand much quicker than any competitor. Yes, it means they have minimal inventory loss, but it's not actually efficient. Or rather not efficient in any other way than for maximizing profits. There is a massive amount of overlap of facilities, machinery, organization structures and bureaucracy, if we look at Shein's whole production, because the small factories are all producing same things, but because Shein drives them to compete with each other, they don't have to pay for that overlap. More than that, it's extremely inefficient way to maximize people getting clothed while minimizing materials. And I don't mean producing as much clothes as possible while minimizing materials, because that is what they are doing, but the goal shouldn't be as much clothes as possible, but maximizing everyone having enough clothing, which is much less that what we produce today. And if clothing was made to last instead of making as many of them as possible, even less could be made and still everyone would have enough clothes.

Shein's extremely quick rise to the top of fashion markets was due to how effectively they managed to use the pandemic for their advantage. During the lock-downs around the world, people spend increasingly more time on their phones and social media, which Shein managed turn into their profit. They utilize social media and influencers effectively for marketing. Their platform also uses many of the same psychological tricks social media uses to keep customers scrolling and consuming. This is on itself is not at all new, but because of their business model, they turned attention into sales and sales into more attention. All that combined with their ability to response in real time to new trends and scale production extremely quickly, turned any new trend in social media into hype and micro-fashion cycles, which they would burn through increasingly fast. Their competitors wouldn't even have the time to get into that trend before it would be replaced with a new trend. Then all they needed to do was to contract new small factories, they didn't even have to spend time and money to built them, and they could take over the fast fashion market.

Shein's effect won't stop there though. Their competitors will and are already starting to adapt their methods. It means quality of clothing will keep getting worse, the whole industry will keep increasing their carbon emissions and the working conditions from cotton farmers to designers will get worse as gig economy spreads in the industry. I'll talk more about this in the conclusions of the second part, but to fix this, there needs to be government intervention. It's good that there's a lawsuit over their wider practices, not just a singular act, but it won't be enough. If they don't face significant consequences, every other company will take note that they can profit off of (allegedly) systematic crimes.

IN CONCLUSION Shein as a company is a glorified optimization algorithm which only real function is to drive up consumption and in exchange take all the profits from everyone else's labour. They use the modern classic Uber model to take the neoliberal principle of outsourcing risks and responsibilities to it's logical conclusion. Their extremely exploitative business model only works if their designers and factories and other gig workers break laws. They do the absolute bare minimum to comply with law and (allegedly) not even that when they believe they can get away with it by blaming others, which is fucking bad indictment of those laws, since my god they are terrible. Their greenwashing propaganda is honestly laughable, it's a joke and they must know it. It feels more like gaslighting than propaganda.

#this is not exactly what i usually write about but one of the reasons i care about historical fashion is because i care about sustainability #fashion #sustainable fashion #environment #climate crisis #shein #fashion industry #shein clothes #fast fashion #slavery mentioned #genocide mentioned

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weirdmarioenemies · 2 years

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Name: Mario Land

Debut: Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins

So I was lying awake in bed, thinking. What is up with Mario Land? Everyone knows that the setting of the first Super Mario Land game is Sarasaland. Nintendo loves to vaguely allude to it in character descriptions for Princess Daisy! But where does Super Mario Land 2 take place? Well, it’s in Mario Land, of course! Now, Super Mario Land does not take place in Mario Land. It takes place in a Land, in which Mario is a participant, but he doesn’t own the Land, just as he doesn’t own the World or the Galaxy. But he does own Mario Land!

Nothing is really clear about how Mario came to own Mario Land. Nintendo Power once described it as his ‘kingdom’, while the Wiki describes it as Mario’s ‘private island’. Lots of people immediately remark on how odd it is that Mario owns a castle in this game, and they’re right! It is odd! We don’t think of Mario as an avaricious man. He is a humble, working class individual. He lives in a cottage with his brother despite being a world-renowned hero. Except here, where he owns an entire landmass, with a castle! My personal canon, in my head, was that Peach or someone else gifted him with a large chunk of land and a castle as a reward for his heroic deeds. It seems the most likely, given what we know about Mario! But why couldn’t he settle for a vacation home, or anything of the sort? Why are we placing the responsibility of land ownership on such a modest soul?

I think what is the strangest thing about Mario Land, to me, is that despite being Mario’s Land, it is so devoid of allies. Mario Land is vast and untamed, a collection of wacky themed zones filled with creatures entirely hostile to Mario! There are no maids or servants from Mario’s Castle, who fled Wario’s invasion. There are no Toads or Toad houses to aid Mario in his quest. Mario is entirely alone in a Land that bears his name, but his name only. Once his only symbol of power, his castle, is gone, Mario is back where he began, all alone in this foreign land. All the material goods in the world could not fill the void of - wait I’m sorry I completely forgot a key detail of Mario Land 2’s plot is that Wario put all of Mario Land’s inhabitants under a spell! False alarm everyone!

Everyone in Mario Land is actually Super Nice actually and was just brainwashed by Wario, who has the power of dark magic. The Big Bird from Tree Zone and the Octopus from Turtle Zone, and also Spikey, they all love Mario and see him as their king. I was gonna say the Witch too, but it seems the witch was Wario’s friend. Or are they Wario’s minions? If so, where are the inhabitants of Mario Land? Are they in hiding? We never see them! Who does Mario rule over? Is Spikey a wild animal? A brainwashed citizen of Mario’s country? Or an ally of the wicked and greedy Wario?

And of course, we have to discuss the matter of the Mario Zone. Mario was not content with having a Land, he needed to have a Zone in that Land, which is also Mario! It is actually one big Mario, a mechanical automaton built in his likeness. Mario has always expressed an interest in making toys of himself, as we see in the Mario Vs. Donkey Kong series, so it stands to reason that his major construction project would be just that, but bigger!

Or maybe the Mario Zone always existed, before Mario came to Mario Land. Maybe it’s named Mario Land because one of its most famous natural formations is a giant wind-up toy that looks like Mario! And Mario’s Castle is named that by coincidence. I don’t know! I don’t have answers to any questions, ever! I literally don’t know anything! I’m going to bed!

Just kidding! I’m not going to bed. This post is a bit, um... rambly. But I thought it would be a shame to conclude it without appreciating how whimsical Mario Land is as a whole! There is a giant pumpkin with haunted woods inside it! There is a hippo that takes you to space! There is a turtle that swallows you and takes you underwater to a whale! There is a house that is just kind of a normal house but forces you to be really small to enter it! But I probably don’t need to tell you all that! It’s kind of what makes SML2 so wonderful!

Would YOU live in Mario land? Would you want a monarchy as long as Super Mario is your benevolent ruler? What do you think of the giant turtle? Please let us know what you think of the giant turtle in the comments below. I don’t know.

#mario #mario locations #mario land #super mario land 2 #mod f boy

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anistarrose · 6 months

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I've asked a version of this question (link) about image descriptions in the past, but now I want to narrow the scope. As always, this is entirely non-judgmental, because my only goal is to brainstorm solutions and connect people with resources.

This a question is for anyone who wants to write IDs and are familiar with their general purpose (ie, accessibility for screen reader users among others), but either aren't able to write IDs period, or aren't able to do so as often as you'd like.

It's your own individual call if you count — but I'd like to stress, if you feel like you "could" theoretically achieve something, and want to achieve that thing, but are nonetheless not currently doing so, you are experiencing a barrier, so you qualify. With that in mind:

I'll try to make a more detailed follow-up post in the reblog once I've seen the responses, but in the meantime, here is a quick guide on how/where to ask for help getting image descriptions in a crowdsourced way.

If you're stumbling across this poll while unfamiliar with the purpose of IDs, refer here for what they are, and refer here for a quick demo of why they're important/why an internet without them kind of sucks.

#accessibility #image descriptions #polls

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atlafanzine · 4 months

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Mod Applications Now Open.

We are in the process of creating an ATLA fanzine where all the proceeds go to Care for Gaza. As of now, we are recruiting mods to help run the project. Undercut you will find links to each application form as well as a brief description on the responsibilities of each mod. The application period ends on the 29th of May, meaning you have 2 weeks to apply.

hyperlink to application form on the bold text

Co-Head Mod - keeping everyone else on schedule, ensuring future tasks are covered ahead of time, having an overall vision of what the project can become. Think project management!

Graphics Mod - Creating the graphics, icons, headers, edits and carrd for social media. Working closely with the communications and marketing mods.

Social Media/External Communications Mod - Managing the different social media sites, answering any questions by applicants and buyers via social media and email.

Discord/Internal Communications Mod - Setting up discord, discord posts and managing contributor emails.

Marketing Mod - Coming up with new ideas to keep the zine at the top of people's minds during periods where there is not a lot of activity, works closely with the external communications mod and graphic mod.

Supplier Mod - Sourcing quotes, negotiating prices, evaluating suppliers, and staying on top of your chosen suppliers for both merch and the zine itself.

Fulfilment Mod - Receiving, inspecting, and packing all the products for shipment. Someone who has the time to spare.

Finance Mod - Co-managing the PayPal account, budgeting, help guide prices, keeping track of expense.

Artists/Writer Admin - Managing artist/writer contributors, managing their details and check-ins. This is a two person position, one admin will be looking after the artists and one the writers. Both admins should work together to keep track of buyers orders when the time comes.

#txt post #mod applications #applications #atla #avatar the last airbender #aang #avatar aang #avatar: the last airbender #a:tla #air nomads #pro aang #fanzine #fandom zine #zine #zine promo #palestine #avatar

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andreas-river · 2 years

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He's Like Art [Nikto X Fem!Reader]

Summary: They always told you that Nikto was a monster- but you never believed them. And you were right.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, mention and description of sex, fem!reader. 18+ MDNI!

Disclaimer: I do not own any MW characters. English is not my native language.

From the result of this poll.

Cross-Posted on AO3 here.

══════════════

You can't stand him anymore.

It's the thought of him that reverberates in your body, you still see his blue eyes watching you, trying to run towards you, getting carried away and fainting in the arms of the enemy.

Or his body pinning yours, the wall on your back taking your breath away - no more movement, the eyes of the predator staring at you, his prey caught in his arms, but his fangs are nowhere to be seen, and that's not because of the mask that covers his face.

Or your arms around his waist, stopping his pacing around the room for the first time, almost as if his soul is leaving his body - and then he's back, turning away to hide the tears in his eyes, too proud to show them, even if you already knew it.

Or his other self, cold, loveless, it's almost like having a corpse that can walk, a trembling mass trapped inside himself, his hands reaching for you as if floating in nothingness, your body the only thing that can give him hope, the survival instinct kicking in and finally hitting back at you - you don't even care about the numerous bruises on your arms, waist or legs, or even shoulder to neck.

Or his eyes, impenetrable walls, swimming on yours, making their way into your heart - or the walls of your private parts, stretching you, realigning all your limbs, hitting points and hungrily devouring your tongue, abandoning your body to him, his hands wandering over your skin, your hips, your chest, getting carried away by him, surrendering to him, possessing your body and soul, making you a small trembling body under him, your mind blank from the start.

You open your eyes abruptly, stretching your stiff body, staring at the ceiling while your mind slowly remembers the past day and you feel goosebumps on your skin.

It wasn't your first time, but it looked like it: he knew exactly where and how to put his hands, or his lips or-

The door of your room was pushed wide open, a slender figure entered-Rodion, then the door was closed again: blue eyes stared at you, the sly smile on his face made you curl up in the blankets.

"Details please!" You feel his weight at your side and gasp in annoyance as he pulls the blankets off your body.

He was being obnoxious.

And yet your best friend.

"Yes," you said simply, feeling a familiar heat rise in your face. You can still feel him.

"Yes... what?" he stared at you, not letting go.

"Yes, we DID it!" you almost yell, then slap your hand over your mouth. For all you know, he could even be on the other side of the door.

He started giggling, at which point you jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom: In the mirror you saw someone you didn't immediately recognize: your lips were a little swollen and red, your hair a complete mess, and a purple mark on your neck- shit.

At least it's not summer.

Later in the day, after all the questions from Rodion, you knew you'd soon come face to face with him. That's when the thought hit you like a runaway train as you wandered the corridors of the base.

You love him.

But you're not sure it's the same for him.

You stop in front of a door, instinctively your feet had brought you to the one person who filled your thoughts. You knock on the door and wait for an answer.

It was faster than expected, in front of you stood a man, not a monster as many think- wearing only normal clothes: no protection, a scarf that reached only to the nose, the rest of the face free of his usual balaclava, no visible weapons- at least. He always carries a pistol. "You never know," was his response.

"You came here to stare at me?" his voice snapped you back to reality, you try to ignore the goosebumps on your skin and take out a small box from your pocket, which he hands you.

"Ibuprofen." You've already noticed that the room behind him was completely dark and that he regularly retreated to his room without ever leaving it, without making a sound, only discovering his migraine later.

He really didn't expect that, his blue eyes filled with a different light. He beckons you in, closing the door behind him and leaving the room in a dim light, your eyes catching only the outline of his body nestled against yours, almost touching, and you don't even notice that he's sandwiching you between him and the wall.

"You should run." He says in a firm voice, but he doesn't let his arms leave your side.

"I don't want to." You stare into his eyes again, like a deer in headlights.

You catch a glimpse of part of his scarred face, part of it like he's been burned, the rest just scars, healed on the outside, less so on the inside.

You slowly take his face in your small hands and notice that he no longer twitches. You caress him, trying to reach his soul - he has already given it to you, you were so different from the beginning: you always managed to get under his skin, to destroy all his defenses and at the same time make him feel protected.

He lets out a little sigh, leans his body against yours, and his lips burn on the skin of your neck, returning to the same place as last night, making you giggle with the tickle of his lips.

"Again?" you ask him breathlessly, your heart already racing, his lips twisting into a slight smile that gives him a serene expression.

"And more."

#nikto #nikto cod #cod nikto #nikto x reader #call of duty #cod #cod mw #cod mw19

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bonesandblood-sunandmoon · 5 months

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Tumblr has been working on implementing a Communities feature here, and they've gotten to a Closed Beta stage. There's more details in this post, but basically, some people will be getting emails with information about filling out a form if they're interested in a community and ideas will be selectively approved and created. There will be a community member cap while in Closed Beta, and taking part in feedback will probably be inevitable.

I'm honestly not sure if there's an underlying reason for who gets sent emails or if I was randomly chosen, but I have the opportunity to fill out a potential community form. Someone would have to approve it, and at this stage, allowing duplicates or communities that are very nearly duplicated with minor differences will probably be unlikely. Considering the tag spamming in Jumblr, I thought it might be a good idea to suggest some sort of Jewish themed Community.

If anyone else has gotten an email about creating a Community and has had this idea, I would absolutely like a response about it. (I have no idea if this is a 'first come, first serve' sort of thing, but I'd rather not make a duplicate suggestion.)

There is a note in the email that not every suggestion will be approved, and they're looking for a spread of different types of Communities. However, it also can't hurt to at least put forward the suggestion.

I haven't looked at the form in great detail yet, but it will probably ask for a name, description, community guidelines, and if the Community will be public or private.

Name: I'm not 100% sold on using 'Jumblr', 'Jewish', or 'Judaism' since those are so broad and general. However, if enough people like using 'Jumblr' or something that does seem personally broad, it's still on the table for consideration.

Description: A space for Jewish Tumblrites...? (Jews of Tumblr?) To be determined, really. (Should it be a space also open to gentile allies? Probably see the private vs public section.)

Community guidelines: Some will be the usual matters of what posts will not be allowed, how to tag for certain topics, and what conduct could lead to being removed from the comm. Specific guidelines to this comm are definitely where I'd appreciate some degree of input, though.

For example, it's entirely possible that someone interested in joining this potential Jewish themed Community will want to avoid examples of antisemitism. Does this look like a guideline about not posting antisemitic anon hate or reblogging conversations with antisemitic responses in the reblog chain into the Community? Does this look like needing to use a specific tag so other community members can blacklist or use Tumblr's filtering feature? What if someone wants to talk about antisemitism they've recently faced?

The Israel-Hamas war. Do the community members want a space free from news updates? Or would a guideline about not showing gory imagery or videos, but allowing text only updates, be alright? (Do community members want a space free from larger I/P discussions? Or as long it's tagged for filtering purposes, do they want to be able to talk about I/P without having trolls and random antisemites wander into the replies/reblogs?)

Zionism. I don't want this to be another space where people face the 'are you a Good Jew or a Bad Jew' sort of questioning. However, does this look like a statement in the description welcoming everyone including Zionists, or does there need to be a guideline about talking about anti-/non-/Zionism within the Community?

Other: I don't know what the community member cap will be in the beginning, so I have no idea whether there'll be a need for mods immediately or not. The only language I'm comfortable doing any modding in is English, so at the very least, I'd probably need someone who knows Hebrew at some point.

Public or private: I like the idea of a public community that's not dissimilar to the Jumblr tag, but you know, I'm not sure about how comfortable community members will be with a public community given the compilation of blocklists based on interacting with a particular post/user.

From the Communities Help page:

Public communities can be seen and visited by non-members, logged in or logged out. However, only the feed of posts in each community tab, and the About page, are accessible. Non-members cannot view the member list, see who reacted with what, or see community comments. Non-members with an invite can see everything a member can see, but cannot interact with anything until they accept the invitation. Private communities cannot be seen or visited by non-members at all. The existence of a private community is not hidden, however, if someone has the URL (they’ll see a message like “this is a private community”). Non-members with an invite can see everything a member can see, but cannot interact with anything until they accept the invitation.

Not directly related but notable enough to mention: I can easily imagine that some people will not be enthusiastic that I'm volunteering for this effort. This is the main associated with a conversion sideblog, but I have not felt comfortable with revealing my sideblog, especially after October 7th. However, I don't think a Tumblr Community can be associated with a secondary account, so I can't really change that my not-really-Jewish-looking account is the one associated with this idea. If someone likes this idea but still would rather have someone else try to implement it, I guess we'll cross that bridge if we get there in the response to this.

#Jumblr

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 1 year

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Words: 2,491 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: S10/S11, The Reapers Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, injury, blood and gore, language A/N: This is part of a series! You can find the rest on my Master List, the pinned post on my blog.

Summary: Reunited but in rough shape, the group moves forward with a plan to get out of Meridian safely and with the needed supplies.

Previous Chapter

Your name: submit What is this?

Daryl adjusted his jacket over your shoulder. Despite a valiant fight against sleep, you’d finally succumbed to the utter exhaustion from your running and fighting. Your bruised body had stiffened and ached as you sat beside him. Daryl watched in near anguish as you’d occasionally press the pad of a hesitant finger to a tender spot on your neck. He’d done what he could to try and make you more comfortable. He’d managed to at least find a thin wool blanket for you to lie on when you could no longer hold your eyes open.

Before sleep had captured you, you sat close together and talked in more depth about all that had happened since the two of you were separated. As you exchanged details, he’d tended to you further as best he could. It seemed like everywhere he looked there was some bump or bruise or cut marring your skin. He worried as the clean bandage he’d applied to your side was already stained with deep crimson again when he checked it only a short time later. He pressed another layer of gauze over it and secured it. His eyes caught on the network of now purpling bruises on your stomach and sides and he was unable to stop himself from lightly lifting your shirt farther up to examine them. There was an angry graze on your hip.

Your fingers had landed on his hand and gently nudged the fabric of your shirt back down to cover the marks. “I’m okay,” you’d whispered, meeting his blue eyes. There was still a rasp in your throat and his eyes again drifted to the marks on your neck from that asshole’s hands. “I’m fine.” Daryl felt a sick, rolling nausea welling up inside him. It surged with rage and regret. This had happened to you because you’d come after him… and he somehow felt responsible for that. Sure, you’d all meant to come to Meridian together, but he knew that the reason you’d ventured inside the walls after the horror outside, was for him. Maybe he should have tried harder to sneak away, to get out and find you. But he knew he’d been watched closely the entirety of his time there, even if Pope and Leah hadn’t wanted him to know that. Still, he felt responsible for your hurt. He should have been able to protect you, and he sent a thank you into the universe that you were so capable of protecting yourself.

He ducked his gaze until you insisted that he meet your eyes again. He was conscious then of how much he wished the two of you were alone, so that he could kiss you softly, kiss all your bruises, and close the space between you and him to nothing. He wanted to tangle his fingers into your hair and trail them lightly down the graceful curve of your neck. He wanted you pressed against him so he could feel your breathing. He and you both were far too aware of Maggie pacing in front of a bound Carver at the other end of the room and of Elijah staring at him menacingly. Negan was asleep in the corner. Daryl dared only to press the backs of your fingers to his lips briefly and give you a soft look he hoped said everything he couldn’t do at that moment. You felt a calm settle over you briefly.

You questioned him further about his time in Meridian. When he had spoken about being with The Reapers, even though he talked only in vague allusions, you knew they’d tortured him and that fleeting calmness departed and you too were filled with a caustic anger deep in your gut. It had kept you awake for longer than you would have managed otherwise, so complete was your exhaustion. But eventually, you’d surrendered to the heaviness of your eyelids.

Now, it was still dark beyond the window, and although Daryl knew he wouldn’t be able to see anything, he couldn’t help glancing outside anxiously, watching for deeper shadows shifting, fearing figures closing in.

It was at one of those moments where he was squinting into the dimness, when you suddenly shifted and sat up laboriously with a wince. “Daryl?” you said softly, glancing around and rubbing your eyes.

“Here,” he drawled softly, stepping away from the dark window and back towards your light. “‘M righ’ here.” He sank down beside you again. “Go back to sleep. It’s still dark out. Ain’t time yet.”

You shook your head and gripped onto his jacket, which had slipped from your shoulders and now pooled on your lap. “No. I had a dream… about DJ,” you said, and Daryl saw there was tension in your face. “I won’t be able to sleep now.”

“What is it?” he asked, his stomach feeling suddenly hollow. His eyes narrowed and deepened with worry.

“I don’t know,” you said, shaking your head. “I think something’s going on back home.” You looked uneasy. It was just then that Daryl decided he needed to push forward with what he’d been putting off talking to you about.

“About Alexandria—” You met his eyes, a question heavy on your brow. “About the morning, this plan—”

“Daryl,” you began trying to head him off. You knew where this was going.

“Just let me get this out. Please.” His voice was so pleading that you yielded. “One of us has gotta make it back there, no matter how this all goes in the mornin’.” He held you gaze and the intensity in his eyes was staggering. “Ya ain’t in no shape to fight anymore, even though I know ya want to.” You gulped, a sinking, weighty sensation near your navel.

“You want me to hide,” you said, plainly knowing his intentions.

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t call it that. I’d call it—Plan B.”

“Well, what about Elijah,” you challenged him. “He can hardly walk and he’s going into whatever this is.” You tried to keep the anger from your tone, but you weren’t sure you were successful.

Daryl met your eyes again steadily and sighed. He lifted a hand and swept a finger lightly along your jaw, and the action was so tender that you were completely disarmed. “Elijah ain’t got a little boy waitin’ back there in Alexandria.”

Your jaw clenched and the muscle twitched.

“If we dun pull this off, Alexandria—it’s done, at least for now. Everybody is gonna have to leave, go find food, find somewhere else safe. One of us has to get back to the kids. And I want ya to look after Judith and RJ. Aaron and Carol—Rosita—everybody back there will help but I need ya to do that for me.”

You felt tears burning in your eyes as you looked at him. “Stop it,” you murmured.

“Ya gotta promise me ya will,” Daryl said, ducking his eyes.

“Stop. Stop talking as if you won’t be coming back with me,” you managed thickly. “Stop it, Daryl.”

“I need ya to say ya will,” he drawled softly. “And I need ya to be safe in the mornin’, safely back and away. There’s no way to know how this is really gonna go. Carver is our best shot at gettin’ out of here with what we came for but—” he shook his head, “it ain’t a guarantee.”

As much as you hated it, as much as you wanted to rage at the mere idea of being separated from him again, especially for such a potentially perilous meeting, you knew he was right. Every movement took a great effort and sent shockwaves of pain through you. You couldn’t fight if it came to that and you’d be a liability. Daryl would do anything to protect you, and that made him more vulnerable too. You blinked at the glassiness in your eyes. “Fine. I won’t go to the front, but I’m not taking my eyes off you. And if I can get back to the armory—”

“No,” he said forcefully. “They could be there. No. Ya just gotta stay safely outta the way. Please.”

You felt sick, but you nodded. “Okay.” It came out as a whisper and Daryl seemed to have a great weight fall from his shoulders at your response.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“You know I’ll take care of Judith and RJ as my own, but it’s not coming to that,” you said. “You’ll pull this off, Daryl Dixon. You always do. And we’re going back to see DJ, and little RJ, and Judith together and to feed our family.”

Daryl had to swallow and clear his throat to rid it of the constriction that had grown there. He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah…”

You glanced across the classroom at Maggie’s pacing and Negan’s slumped, sleeping form. “Kiss me right now. Please,” you said, reaching for his lapel.

He did, softly and gently, conscious of the bruise on your bottom lip and the crimson split even there. He ran a strand of your hair between two of his fingers, and his eyes were searching over your face when he pulled back. “C’mere,” he said, tilting his head. You fell against him and closed your eyes, waiting for the dawn together.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“What about Gabriel?” you asked Maggie.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. We’ve got to hope he’ll get to high ground and see us—”

“If he’s still alive,” murmured Negan. Maggie shot him a scathing look.

“Take these,” Maggie said, pressing a pair of binoculars into your hands. “And this.” She handed you a radio. “If you see anything off, let us know.” You nodded. She gave you a small smile and then pulled you into a tight hug, almost crushing. You bit back the grimace from the burn in your ribs and focused on the feeling of her in your arms, your found sister. She pulled back. “Remember what we talked about? Out there?” she drawled. You nodded. The same thing Daryl had made you promise the night before about Judith and RJ. Hershel would be safe and looked after.

“Yes. Of course.” She nodded back and squeezed your shoulder, giving you a fond look.

“We’ll see you after, when it’s all over.”

You could only gulp nervously and nod. You were surprised when Negan approached you next. He looked you up and down briefly and then sighed.

“You look like shit,” he said, a hint of a jesting sparkle in his eye. You rolled yours and he chuckled. “In all seriousness, there are worse people to be stuck in a falling apart house with. And—I’m glad you’re going to be out of the way for this. It is a little batshit crazy, and I don’t mind having you on back up. Even looking like you do, I bet you could still do some damage.”

You gave him a strange look, like you couldn’t figure him out (you couldn’t) and he only nodded again before joining Maggie and Elijah nearby.

Daryl was beside you next in an instant. Your stomach was swirling with nerves. He tried to give you a reassuring smile. “Ya know where you’re gonna be?” he drawled.

“Yeah. Not too far, but not too close.”

He nodded and chewed on his bottom lip anxiously. His hand settled on his knife in its sheath. “Alrigh’.” He glanced at the small group waiting with Carver, still bound and gagged, and gulped. His eyes met yours again. “I ain’t ever gonna love anybody like I love you,” he said suddenly.

Your heart jumped and your lips parted on their own. You were stunned for a moment by the visceral emotion this sparked in you, but then you smiled at him widely, with glassy eyes. “Me either,” you managed in a whisper. “You’re the beginning and the end, Daryl.” You pressed a hand to the center of his chest, right over the tattoo of your initials and his steady, strong heartbeat. “So, stay safe. And come back to me.”

Daryl nodded and he had to tear his eyes away from you at that very moment or he’d never be able to leave. “Alrigh’,” he said to the group. “Let’s do this.” He took hold of Carver by his bonds and lifted him harshly to his feet, prodding him in the back. You watched as they went right, and then you turned and went left. _ _ _ _ _ _

It was agony just waiting, tucked away with a clear view of the meeting spot, straining your eyes through the binoculars for any sign of movement, scanning the scene. You were nauseous and your body ached with tension that truly had nothing to do with your injuries.

Finally, with your hands shaking from nerves, when you thought you couldn’t take anymore waiting, the heavy metal door slid open and some men walked out. You squinted through the binoculars, adjusting the focus.

Daryl, with his knife at Carver’s neck, stepped out just slightly from around a concrete planter. He eyed the two men in front of him, glaring at them sharply. “Nah,” he murmured. “Where’s Leah?!” he demanded.

“She’s coming,” one of the men roared back.

Daryl shook his head. “I deal with her! If she ain’t here in one fuckin’ minute, any deal is off!” he roared. “I’ll kill this asshole righ’ now!”

You were watching from a distance, on edge. “No… No, something isn’t right. No.” You started to reach for your radio, ready to tell Maggie to grab Daryl and pull him back to cover. Your stomach twisted. This wasn’t right… Where the hell was she?

It was right then, as you lowered the binoculars from your eyes for a brief moment, hand hovering toward the radio, that there was a soft crunch behind you, as of gravel under boots.

You turned, feeling your face blanche and your eyes go wide with fear.

“Hello there.”

Two steely barrels of a shotgun were pointed your way. She stepped closer.

“Don’t move,” she says.

You gulp. The shake in your hands worsens with the new wave of adrenaline. You have to warn them. The radio. Could you warn them before—? But there was no time to even twitch your hand toward it. The butt of her gun bashed into the side of your jaw and you were knocked, sprawled, to the ground. Your vision went black, but you heard her boots advancing on you.

Leah had found you. So much for safely out of the way…

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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