#but appreciating everything and knowing that it's temporary anyway and there is no need to hurry to get to the end calms me down

[joelsgreys]

a safe haven l nine

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: When you find out that you’re pregnant, everything comes crumbling down around you.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SCENE THAT HEAVILY IMPLIES DOMESTIC VIOLENCE. this chapter it also contains a very uncomfortable scene with reader and Luke, but despite the sexual nature of the scene, READER DOES NOT GET SA, BUT SHE DOES GET INJURED. INJURY there is a description of an injury as the result of DV HEAVILY IMPLYING STRANGULATION. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. pregnancy, mentions of high risk pregnancy (not reader), mentions of child loss (not reader), mentions of pregnancy related symptoms (missed menstrual cycle, morning sickness), protective Tommy Miller, protective Joel, and last but certainly not least, feral Joel. this chapter is a lot, just proceed with caution if anything in bold can be a potential trigger for you.

word count: 11.8k

October, 2024

It’s the middle of October.

By now, the pain had become almost unbearable. Time certainly wasn’t healing the wound. 

If anything, time only seemed to be making it worse.

So, so much fucking worse. 

It drags, and you almost feel as if you’re paralyzed by it. But the only thing that you can do about it, about any of this, is just pretend. 

Pretend everything is okay.

Pretend it doesn’t hurt.

Pretend you don’t feel empty.

Pretend you don’t need him.

But you do need him. Oh, how you fucking need him.

The hole in your heart is growing bigger by the day, and only Joel Miller is capable of filling the void. Only he has the ability to make you feel whole again. Complete.

“Be honest with me—what does this look like?”

You pause your knitting and glance over at Maria.

With her due date approaching, you had offered to help her prepare for the baby’s arrival. At about six months, Maria was expected to give birth towards the middle of winter season, and instead of trading or having to use rations for certain baby items, like blankets, little socks and mittens, you’d decided to show her how to make them instead. Not only was it saving her from having to trade or use her rations on things that could easily be knitted, but it served as a decent, albeit temporary, distraction, giving your mind the chance to focus on something else other than how deeply you were hurting without Joel.

Tilting your head slightly, you eye the soft, butter yellow wool she’s holding in her hands. “Um, is that the start of another baby blanket?”

“No.” Maria’s face falls. “It’s supposed to be a hat.”

“Oh. Um.” You lean forward in the brown leather armchair you’re perched on, squinting hard at it as she holds it up. “Okay, yeah, I can kind of see the shape of it now. I can totally see it being a little hat for the baby.” She tosses you a knowing smile and you squirm slightly, heat prickling at your ears.

“I appreciate you lying to me.” She giggles and sets down her knitting needles beside her on the couch along with the ball of wool yarn. Leaning back, she places both hands on her belly and sighs. “At the very least this child will never go without a blanket seeing as blankets are all I’m capable of making.”

You flash her a small, but reassuring smile.

“You’ll get the hang of it, Maria, I promise. It just takes some practice, that’s all.”

“Well, now that Luke has put me on strict bed rest until I have the baby, I’m going to have all the time in the world to practice,” Maria remarks, exhaling another sigh. Craning her neck, she peers at your own knitting project, which you’ve been working on in something of a secretive manner in your lap and out of the expectant mother’s view. “What are you making over there, anyway?”

Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

“I’m so glad you asked since I’m just about done.”

Crossing the last stitch, you set aside your knitting needles and then hold up the finished product. “What do you think of these?”

Maria’s hand flies to her mouth, tears welling up in her dark eyes the moment she sees the pair of little brown baby booties in your hands. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, a tear rolling down the side of her face as you stand up and walk across her living room to present her with the shoes. Sitting down beside her, you hold them out in the palms of your hands. With trembling fingers, she accepts them. “Kevin had a pair just like these when he was a newborn. I kept them even after he’d outgrown them.” She lets out a small laugh in spite of herself. “You know, I’d always complain that he was growing up too fast. I used to wish that I could slow time down a little so I could enjoy my son being that young longer,” she admits, sniffing. She reaches up, dabbing at her damp eyes with one of her hands. “And now Kevin is frozen in time, forever a three year old little boy.”

She sets the booties down on her belly and inhales deeply, willing herself to keep her composure.

Swallowing back your own emotions, you brush a single, stray tear from her cheek with your thumb. It wasn’t the first time that she’d opened up about losing her child—but Maria often kept her emotions hidden, tucked away along with her son’s memory. For the last several years, she’d dedicated most of her time and energy to Jackson and to its people, pouring herself completely into her role as the community’s leader. But now that Luke had placed her on strict bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy, Maria had no choice but to step down, temporarily handing the role over to Tommy, along with a small council she’d handpicked herself.

It hadn’t been easy for her, after all, there was only so much she could do to keep herself preoccupied while being confined to the four walls of her home. She found her mind wandering to Kevin a lot more often than not lately, and the pregnancy hormones did absolutely nothing to help in the matter.

“Maria?” you say her name softly. “You okay?”

She slowly exhales the breath she’d been holding.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she finally replies, sniffing again.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She pauses momentarily. “I just—there’s a part of me that still has trouble believing I’m going to be a mother again. It’s been so long, you know? What if I’ve forgotten how to be a good mom?”

Dropping your hand from Maria’s face, you offer it out for her to hold. She accepts it and you give her hand a gentle squeeze as you vouch, “This baby, they couldn’t be any luckier than to have a mother like you, Maria.”

“And a fuckin’ hell of a dad like me,” a voice teases from the doorway.

Tommy, who had been down at the commune’s market picking up some potatoes for dinner, saunters into the living room with a brown paper bag in his arm. Setting the bag down onto a nearby table, he then makes his way over to his wife. Noticing that she’d been crying, he leans over and presses his lips against her forehead, softly murmuring, “You doin’ alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m alright,” she assures him with a nod. “I’m just extra sensitive and hormonal right now. The usual.”

He hums. “Uh, yeah, I kinda figured that out when you bawled your way through Old Yeller at the movies the other night.”

She pouts. “Pregnant or not, that movie’s a tear jerker, okay? Only people made of stone don’t cry when the dog dies.”

“She’s got a point, Tommy,” you agree with a shrug. “I cried too, and I’m not pregnant.”

Drawing himself back up to his full height, Tommy glances at the booties resting on Maria’s belly. He picks them up and holds them both in the palm of his hand. 

“Well, ain’t these just the teeniest things I ever did see,” he remarks with a soft chuckle. “Who made these?”

Maria jerks her chin towards you. “She did.”

Tommy’s eyes meet yours and it feels like a punch to the fucking gut—they remind you of his brother. “Almost feels like a crime, havin’ you make clothes for our kid for free,” he states, shaking his head as he hands them back to Maria. “You’re makin’ the baby’s entire wardrobe at this point, little lady.”

Sheepishly, you wave a dismissive hand at him. “I made one sweater and a couple pairs of mittens for them. I wouldn’t exactly call that a wardrobe, Tommy.”

“It’s a hell of a lot more stuff than we had before. I gotta be honest, it just don’t feel right acceptin’ all these things from you without payin’ somehow. I’d really like to at least trade you somethin’ for them.”

Shaking your head, you politely decline the offer.

“I appreciate it, but I really don’t need anything.”

“What ‘bout Luke?”

“He doesn’t either.”

“But—”

“Honey, don’t waste your breath,” Maria chimes in with a sigh. “I’ve been trying to get her to accept a trade all week long and she simply won’t budge.”

Tommy purses his lips together, slowly rubbing his chin in thought. “Okay, I’ve got an idea,” he proposes after a minute. “How ‘bout you and Luke both come on over and join us for dinner later tonight? That ain’t too bad of a deal, right?”

You silently mull over the offer for a second.

“If I accept the invitation, then will you two knock it off with all this damn trade nonsense?” When he eagerly nods, you sigh. “Alright then, I accept. We’ll come over for dinner tonight. Granted he doesn’t come home late from the clinic again.”

“Perfect,” he grins. “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

Knowing he only means well, you decide to be a good sport about it and smile at him. “No, Tommy. I suppose it wasn’t.”

“Great!” Maria beams. “We haven’t had a chance to get together for dinner in months. Lately when I see Luke, it’s as his patient,” she muses. “I have to admit, it’ll be so nice to have a conversation with him that doesn’t revolve around my uterus for once.”

Tommy jokingly makes a face. “Yeah. Tell the doc to leave all that medical stuff at the door before he comes over. Last thing I wanna hear ‘bout while I’m chowin’ down on some big, juicy bison steaks is what fuckin’ size my wife’s uterus is—”

“Tommy! That’s not funny!” Rolling her eyes at her husband, Maria turns to you to apologize but she stops short when she notices a sudden, not to mention drastic, change in your complexion. Frowning, she reaches up and touches your cheek. “Hey, you don’t look so good. Are you feeling alright?”

You can taste the bile at the back of your throat.

“I—I’m sorry, what did you just say was for dinner?”

Tommy shoots you a strange look. “Uh, steaks?”

The mere mention of the word sends a violent wave of sickness crashing over you—slapping your hand tightly over your mouth, you scramble to jump off the couch and make a beeline for their downstairs bathroom right across the hallway. You’d made it just in time to fall to your knees in front of the toilet. Clutching the sides of the porcelain bowl, you gag loudly, and the sickening sound of your retching bounces off the walls.

As your stomach heaves, you feel one hand gather your hair to hold it back and out of your face, while the other rubs soothing circles into your back.

“Let it all out,” Maria encourages you. “It’s alright, just let it all out. There you go, get everything out.”

Tommy pokes his head into the bathroom.

“She okay?”

“Tommy! Get out of here!” Maria scolds him over her shoulder. “She doesn’t need an audience!”

He holds up his hands. “Alright, alright! Sheesh, I was just makin’ sure she’s okay, you ain’t gotta bite my head off!” He huffs at her. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you two need me.” Without another word, he spins around on the heel of his boot and disappears.

Once you’re certain there’s nothing left, your trembling hand reaches for the handle on the tank and pulls it down, flushing the toilet. You then sit back, slumping against the wall. “Jesus. I am so fucking sorry. I have no idea what the hell came over me,” you groan, the embarrassment evident in your tone as you wipe at your mouth with the sleeve of your flannel shirt.

Maria peers at you with a suspicious glint in her eyes.

“You know,” she says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “About five months ago, I went through a phase where I couldn’t stand the thought of meat—any kind, but red meat had to be the worst. I just could not stomach it.” Her hand falls away from your face and she rises to her feet with a labored grunt. Leaning back against the sink, she continues to say, “Poor Tommy, he couldn’t even mention it to me or I’d throw up on his boots. Not long after that, I found out I was pregnant.”

You stare at her, your lips parting slightly.  “Maria, you can’t seriously be insinuating—I am not pregnant. No, it’s not possible, you know that I can’t have kids,” you sputter out, furiously shaking your head. “There’s just no fucking way that I’m—”

Maria holds up her hands to stop you. “When was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”

“It was recent.”

“How recent?”

Silently, you start counting the weeks and you freeze the moment you realize you’d missed September completely, and October’s cycle had been due two weeks ago. You’ve been so lost in your own grief, so busy trying to keep yourself from falling apart, that you hadn’t even realized you haven’t bled since—

“August,” you breathe out in a terrified whisper.

The last time you had your period was in August.

August. 

Before you had slept with Joel Miller for the first time. 

Maria whirls around and starts digging in the medicine cabinet above the sink, and then in the one below it. After a minute of rummaging, she turns back around and extends a hand out to you, offering to help you to your feet. She lets out another grunt as she helps you stand. “I had one left,” she states, holding out her other hand to you, an individually wrapped pregnancy test in her palm. “At this point, I don’t think you even need to take a test, but it doesn’t hurt to have solid proof.”

You can hardly choke out her name. “Maria—”

She hastily shoves the test into your hands. “Just take it. I’ll be back in to check on you, okay?”

Not giving you the chance to protest, she steps out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

You look down at the test in your palm and then up into the mirror, meeting your own wide eyes in the reflection.

It can’t be possible. It just can’t be possible.

You can’t have children. 

With shaking hands, you unzip your blue jeans and then tear open the package. Your mind is in such a haze, you have to read the instructions three or four times before the information finally sticks. After taking the test, you lay it down top of the counter with the results window facing down. You pull your panties and jeans back into place and wash your hands using the bar of soap next to the sink—all the while, the sheer panic has started to settle in, the fear that accompanies it seeping deep into your bones.

Swallowing harshly, you realize it’d been well over the three minutes the package had instructed you to wait for the results.

“It’s negative. It’s negative,” you affirm quietly over and over underneath your breath as you pick it up and flip it in your hand. “It’s negative. It’s negative—”

You stop, and for a second, your heart feels like it stops too.

Horrified, you blink furiously, as if somehow you’ve misread the results—but there is no fucking mistaking those two solid little pink lines.

Your blood runs cold in your veins.

You’re pregnant. 

Luke hasn’t touched you in months.

And you’re pregnant. 

Luke hasn’t touched you in months. 

And you are fucking pregnant. 

Maria knocks lightly on the bathroom door.

“It’s been a few minutes now—can I come in?”

She waits, only to be met with complete silence.

“Hey, hon.” She knocks again. “Is everything okay?”

Again, there’s no response from the other side of the door.

“Christ, Maria.” Tommy suddenly appears beside her with a glass of water in his hand. Flashing his wife a teasing look, he quips, “Can’t you let the poor girl do her goddamn business in peace? What’s wrong with you, woman?”

Maria frowns. “I think something’s wrong.”

His playful grin falters. “What do you mean?”

“She’s not answering me.”

Tommy chortles, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Maybe ‘cause she’s actually in there doin’ her business?”

Hesitantly, Maria bites down on her bottom lip.

“What? What is it?”

“I gave her a pregnancy test to take.”

Tommy’s eyes widen. “You fuckin’ with me?”

Maria glares at him. “No! I’m not fucking with you, I’m being serious! I gave her the test and then told her I would check back in with her after she took it, but now she’s not answering me and I’m kind of worried.”

“The door locked?”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think it is. Should we just open the door and see if she’s okay? I don’t want to barge in there but—”

Tommy hands Maria the glass of water. “Hey,” he calls lightly as he raps on the door with his fist. “Everythin’ alright in there?” He waits for a minute, but when you don’t reply, he grasps the brass doorknob in his hand and says sternly, “Now you listen here, little lady. You had best answer me right now, or we’re gonna have to come in, you understand me?”

Silence. 

“Last chance, talk or I’m gonna open this door.”

Nothing. 

“Alright then, suit yourself. Hope you’re decent.”

Tommy turns the knob, cracking the door open—when he doesn’t see you, he tries pushing it open further. The door stops halfway, and he peers around it only to find you sitting on the floor with your back against the wall, preventing the door from going any further. “Shit, she’s sittin’ right behind the goddamn—fuckin’ hold on, Maria! If I try shovin’ it open, I could hurt her!” Being careful so as not to hit you or step on you by accident, he squeezes his way into the bathroom. He crouches down beside you, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand. “Hey, what is it? What’s the matter?”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his.

You can’t speak. You can’t move.

All that you can do is stare at him. Petrified. 

“C’mon, little lady,” he coaxes, softly. “Talk to me.”

“Tommy! Let me in!” Maria demands, impatiently. “Can you move her? I can’t squeeze through, my belly is way too big.”

Tommy slides one arm around your shoulders and the other arm under your knees. “I’m just gonna move you out the way so Maria can come in, alright? C’mere.” He gingerly slides you across the tile and cradles the side of your body against his chest. He then calls out to his wife, “There, that should be enough room!”

Maria pushes the door open and rushes inside. “Is she okay?” Gripping Tommy’s shoulder, she slowly lowers herself to kneel beside you. Her eyes go straight to the test clutched in your hand. She just about has to pry your ice cold fingers off the white stick one by one. “It’s positive,” she gasps. “Your results are positive—you’re going to have a baby!”

Tommy lets out a loud, gleeful laugh. “Did’ya hear that, little lady? You’re gonna have a baby! You’re gonna be a mama! Ain’t that great news?”

Finally, you snap out of your trance. Your eyes anxiously bounce between Tommy and Maria, heart pounding as they eagerly wait for your reaction with smiles of pure excitement on their faces.

“I—” Unable to utter another word, you burst into tears.

And they’re certainly not tears of happiness.

No, the sobs coming from deep within you aren’t full of joy at the news that you’re going to be a mother.

They’re pained. Cries full of sorrow, anguish, and fear. As the confusion flashes across their faces, all you can do is weep harder, and louder.

“Wait a minute, I thought you would be happy.” Maria’s hands reach for yours and she holds them tightly as she tries to understand what it is that is causing such a negative reaction. “You and Luke tried for a really long time to have another baby. Why are you so upset?” She keeps her voice calm, kind. Warm. It wasn’t that she was judging you—Maria wants to help you, however there’s no way for her to help you if she doesn’t know what’s causing your grief in the first place. “What’s the matter, honey? Are you afraid after what happened last time?”

“I can’t be pregnant,” you rasp out. “I can’t—”

“Hey now, it’s alright. C’mere.” Tommy shifts and he moves to sit down beside you against the wall. His arm drapes around your trembling shoulders in an effort to comfort you. As your entire body shudders with sobs, he pulls you close against his side, rubbing your arm with his hand. Once they’ve subsided and little hiccups are all that are left, he finally speaks again. “You can talk to us, little lady. ‘Bout anythin’ that’s on your mind. We care ‘bout you a whole lot. Y’know that, don’t you?”

“Tommy’s right,” Maria nods. “You’re like family to us. You can come to us about anything. We’ll do whatever we can to help you, okay?”

You shake your head tightly. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

She lets out a small sigh and glances at her husband with a look of defeat. “I think you should run down to the clinic and get Luke. He’ll know what to do to calm her down.”

“No!” you shout loudly, startling them both. “I—Luke can’t find out that I’m pregnant. He just can’t know, or else—” A fresh batch of tears spring forward as you clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling another wail.

“Or else what?” Maria asks, raising an eyebrow.

Or else he was going to fucking kill you.

Tommy grabs your wrist, gently tugging it away from your face. “Or else what?” He echoes his wife. “What is goin’ on? Is there somethin’ we should know ‘bout?”

Yet another sob escapes you and his fingers curl tighter around your wrist, firmly, but he’s careful not to be too harsh.

“We’re gonna need you to tell us what’s goin’ on.”

There’s no way around it. Around any of it.

You have to tell them. 

Swallowing harshly, you admit, “There is.”

The couple waits expectantly.

“The baby isn’t Luke’s.” You mumble it so quietly and incoherently that neither of them hear it despite being in such close proximity.

Maria furrows an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“The baby isn’t Luke’s!” You cry out, yanking your wrist out of Tommy’s hand. “This baby isn’t his and that’s why he can’t fucking know!”

And just like that, the truth comes tumbling out.

Luke’s violence towards you.

Your romantic affair with Joel.

Ellie discovering the abuse and telling him about it.

Your stubborn refusal to let either of them do anything to help you.

You spare no details of everything that had taken place over the last several months, and by the time you had finally finished, both Tommy and Maria were rendered completely speechless.

“Can one of you say something? Please? Anything at all?” Your voice is small, feeble.

After a minute, Tommy pulls his arm from around your shoulders and stands up. He helps Maria up to her feet before he extends his hand to you. “Alright, first thing’s first. Let me get you up off this floor, little lady.”

His voice is soft, and so is his gaze.

“Tommy how can you—after everything that I’ve done? Your brother—”

“Please. Just let me help you off the floor and then we can talk ‘bout it. Okay?”

You accept his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t let it go as he leads you out of the bathroom and back into the living room where he sits you down on the couch. Maria, who hasn’t said a single word, takes a seat beside you.

Tommy kneels down in front of you, placing a warm and gentle hand on your leg. He almost looks a little bit guilty, as if he should have known what was being done to you behind closed doors. “Look, m’gonna ask you a question and I need an honest answer. How long has he been doin’ this to you?”

Anxiously, you start wringing your hands in your lap.

“Tommy, I can’t. Please, don’t—”

“Tell me,” he encourages you, softly. “When did it first start?”

Your throat bobs. “Two months after my dad died,” you confess, another tear rolling down the side of your face.

Maria stiffens. “Luke has been putting his hands on you for two years?”

“Yes.”

You can hear the shame in your own voice—shame for letting the abuse go on as long as it has, for everything to come to light like this.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Tommy sighs heavily and hangs his head. “Joel told me. He fuckin’ told me.”

You wipe at your swollen eyes with your forearm.

“What are you talking about, Tommy?”

He sighs again.

“Months ago, the day after the big summer party,” he begins to explain. “We were at the bar. Joel was askin’ me ‘bout you and Luke. Said somethin’ just wasn’t right when he saw you two together for the first time. He tried to tell me somethin’ was wrong and I—I didn’t fuckin’ believe him. Told him he was seein’ what he wanted to see ‘cause I knew he liked you. I fuckin’ told him that you and Luke were happy. He tried to tell me and I didn’t fuckin’ listen to him.”

“Tommy, please don’t blame yourself for this,” you beg him. “I’m the one who chose to hide it. This is my own fault, okay? This is all on me, not on you.”

Maria furiously shakes her head. “It’s not your fault and it sure as hell isn’t on you. You’re the victim here.”

Victim. 

The word makes you cringe.

“But it is my fault, Maria. I hid it from you guys for two fucking years.”

“But why? Why did you hide it? Why didn’t you come to us?” Tommy’s voice is strained. “You should’ve told us what he was doin’ to you. We—I could’a done somethin’ to stop it. I could’a helped you.”

“Because. I didn’t want to risk getting him thrown out of the community. Jackson needs him, Tommy.”

“Like hell we do,” Tommy rises to his feet. “Ain’t no way that we’re gonna tolerate that fuckin’ shit here.” With his hands curled tightly into fists, he spins around and starts heading towards the front door.

You stand and chase after him, catching him just as he opens it. “Where the hell are you going?”

“To confront that pathetic son of a bitch—”

“Tommy, please! Don’t do that.” Grabbing his arm, you shoot him a pleading look. “Please, think about this for a minute.”

“Ain’t nothin’ for me to fuckin’ think ‘bout, alright?”

“Yes, there fucking is! This town needs a doctor. They need Luke—Maria needs Luke.” You glance over at her just as she appears in the hallway with both hands on her belly. “God forbid that something goes wrong—she goes into preterm labor or she has a complication when she gives birth. Did you think about that?”

“We’ve got two nurses,” he reminds you.

“Two nurses who only know basic neonatal care. That’s it. If something serious happens, Maria’s going to need Luke. And the baby’s going to need him too.”

You knew you’d gotten your point across when Tommy turns to his wife, helplessly.

“Fuck,” he curses, slamming the door shut. “She’s right. I fuckin’ hate to say it, but she’s right ‘bout that.”

“I am right,” you state and his attention flits back to you. “Luke has to stay and you both know that as well as I do. For the good of Jackson, he has to stay.”

Conflicted, Tommy growls out in frustration. “So what, I’m just s’pposed to give him a fuckin’ pass? How the hell can you expect us—how can you expect me to let that motherfucker walk around this place knowin’ what he’s been doin’ to you over these last two years?”

Your fingers dig into his arm, a fresh batch of hot tears stinging your eyes. “Tommy, if this community suffers without Luke because of me, it will destroy me. The guilt will fucking destroy me.”

Finally, Maria decides to step in. “Listen, I know that you’re trying to look out for the people of this town and I get that. But you’re risking your own life by asking us to let him stay here.” She walks over to you, taking your hands in hers. “Honey, I know men like Luke because I used to prosecute men like Luke. I would take them to court on murder charges.” Her eyes find yours. “I don’t want to scare you, but if that is the only way for me to get through to you, then I will sit you down and I will tell you all about what happened to the women who swore to me their abusive husbands would never, ever take it that far.”

You swallow harshly and a chill runs up your spine.

“I’ll leave,” you squeak. “I’ll leave him.”

“And what if he doesn’t let you walk away?”

Tommy crosses his arms over his chest. “He will if I’m the one who fuckin’ talks to him. I ain’t gonna give him the choice. He has to let her go.”

Panicked, you furiously shake your head. “No! I can do this on my own, Tommy. I can handle him alone. I don’t need you to do it for me. I can fix this without your help, okay?”

“You can’t,” he says, firmly. “You just can’t.”

“Yes, I can—”

He cuts you off with a pleading look.

“You need to let us help you. Please. Let us help you.”

You had agreed to it, but only on one condition.

“I need a couple of days,” you’d told them.

Tommy frowned. “No. It’s happenin’ tonight. We’re gonna talk to Luke, you’re gonna pack up a couple bags, and we’re gettin’ you away from him. You can stay here with us for a while. You’ll be safe.” Taking notice of the shocked look on your face, he said, “I know you ain’t crazy enough to think I’m gonna let you go home to him tonight. Ain’t no way in hell.”

“I—this is all happening so fast. It’s too overwhelming, Tommy. I just need a day or two to process everything before I take that leap.”

“And give Luke the fuckin’ chance to hurt you again?”

“He hasn’t laid a finger on me in weeks now.”

Tommy scoffed, “Well, someone give him a fuckin’ medal!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “He hasn’t hit his wife in weeks! What a fuckin’ guy!”

You recoiled, his sarcasm stinging like he’d poured salt straight into the open wound.

“Tommy,” Maria glared at him. “Not helping.”

He immediately shot you an apologetic look.

“Shit. Sorry, little lady. I’m just real worried ‘bout you. I don’t like the idea of you goin’ home to him tonight, and much less knowin’ that you’re pregnant, y’know?” His eyes had fallen to your stomach with sudden curiosity. “When, uh—when do you plan on tellin’ Joel ‘bout the baby, anyway?”

Heat flooded your face and neck.

“I—I’m not really sure about that yet.”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy! She just told you that she’s feeling overwhelmed,” Maria chastised him. “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay? Our first priority is going to be to get her out of that house. She has already agreed to letting us help her, so I think there’s a bit of room for compromise. Here’s the deal.” She put a hand on your shoulder. “As much as I don’t want to let you go home to him tonight either, I’m going to allow it so you can take a breather. Tomorrow in the afternoon when you get home from work duty, I’ll come over and help you pack some clothes and necessities, and we can bring them over here to our place.”

Nervously chewing your lower lip, you asked, “And then what?”

“I’ll go confront Luke,” Tommy stated. “Best if you ain’t there when I talk to him, little lady.” He turned to Maria, placing a hand on her belly. “I don’t want you to be there either, sweetheart. I ain’t takin’ any chances and puttin’ you and the baby under stress so I’m gonna have to handle him alone, alright?”

Maria nodded, shifting her attention back to you. “So? Do we have a deal?”

Meekly, you had nodded in agreement. “Yes. We have a deal.”

The rest of that evening passes by in a blur.

Autopilot had taken over the moment that Tommy took you across the road and dropped you off at your door.

“Any problems, you come get me,” he’d said. “You come and get me. No matter what time it is, alright? You fuckin’ come and get me if he tries anythin’.”

All that you could do was give him a weak nod and then you’d turned around, slipping into the house.

You don’t remember cooking dinner.

You don’t remember looking at the clock, noticing it was well past dinnertime and realizing that Luke would be home late as usual. You don’t remember fixing him a plate and leaving it on top of the stove for him to find when he came home, storing all of the leftovers, and washing the small pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

You don’t remember heading upstairs afterwards, you don't remember taking a long shower, brushing your teeth or changing into your pajamas.

It wasn’t until hours later, when the bedroom door opened and Luke walked in, that autopilot finally disengaged.

“You’re still up?”

You’d been sitting on the foot of the bed anxiously picking at your fingernails without even realizing it until he glared at you—he’d always hated the habit and spent months smacking it out of you.

Ceasing from messing with your hands, you drop them into your lap.

“You’re home really late again,” you say, quietly.

“I made a last minute house call. John’s little boy came down with a hell of a fever tonight.” Luke sets down his satchel bag and shrugs out of his jacket—as he does so, you catch sight of the tiny, reddish purple bruise on his neck, right below his ear. Draping his jacket over a nearby chair, he arches his brow as if he were silently challenging you to confront him, as if he’s daring you to ask him who had given him a love bite.

You don’t care. You don’t care about what or who Luke has been doing over the last several nights when he’s been coming home so much later than usual.

Kicking off his black boots, he saunters over to you, his mouth stretching into a cruel, satisfied little smirk.

Oh, he knows damn well you’ve already figured it out.

He wanted you to figure it out.

“Spend the afternoon at Tommy and Maria’s again?”

“Yes. I did.”

“I see.” He hums. “She was telling me during her exam this morning at the clinic that you’ve been helping her knit some clothes for the baby. Is that so?”

“I have,” you murmur, looking down to avert his curious gaze as he stops in front of you. “We’ve been making blankets for the baby, too.”

Luke cups your chin, forcing your eyes back up to meet his. “Well, isn’t that sweet of you.” He roughly curls his fingers around your jaw, his thumb brushing along your quivering lower lip. He hums again. “Something about you seems different, darling. Been looking a lot prettier to me these days.” He lets go of your jaw and brushes your hair behind your shoulder, his finger skimming the strap of your cotton pajama top. “How long has it been now, sweetheart?”

Your throat goes dry, your lips parting in shock as Luke pulls it down your arm, his palm grazing over your skin.

No. This can’t be happening. He wants to—?

Without waiting for a response, Luke grabs one of your hands and places it over his belt buckle.

Noticing your expression, he laughs again. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“You—you haven’t wanted to touch me in months.”

Luke shrugs. “Well, what can I say? I’m suddenly in the mood for my pretty little wife’s cunt.” His grin stretches from ear to ear. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky this time. Maybe we’ll have a little one of our own running around this place. I’m feeling rather optimistic tonight.”

You’re going to be fucking sick all over him.

No, you can’t let him do this to you.

You can’t let him touch you.

He pushes your hand lower, right over his bulge.

“No!” Tearing your hand away, you jump up and roughly shove him away from you. “Don’t you fucking touch me!”

He stumbles backwards, but he catches himself before he can fall.

Your chest heaves a d he stares at you, bewildered at what you had just done. “I’m so sorry that whoever you fucked before you came home wasn’t enough for you, but you are not fucking touching me,” you spit at him. “In fact, you’re never touching me ever again because I’m leaving. I’m done, Luke.”

“Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me.” Your voice trembles—you can’t be sure if it trembles out of anger or out of the sheer terror you feel. Maybe it’s a bit of both. “It’s over, Luke. This marriage is fucking over. I’m not putting up with what you’ve been doing to me for the past two years. I’m not going to tolerate it. Not anymore. I’m not going to allow you to keep on hurting me.” Lifting your hand, you slide your wedding band off of your finger and toss it at him. It clinks as it lands on the hardwood floor near his feet. “I’ll be out of the house by tomorrow evening.”

“Let me take a guess.” He speaks calmly, much too calmly, as he starts towards you. The time bomb has started ticking. “You’re going to move in with Joel Miller and his feral little rat of a kid?”

Hands curling into fists at your sides, you seethe, “Where I move is none of your fucking business, Luke.” He steps closer and your courage starts to falter. You can feel yourself wanting to back down—the thought of your unborn child is the only thing that keeps you from completely losing your nerve. “Here is the deal. You’re going to let me leave and you’re going to stay the fuck away from me. If you do that, then I won’t tell anyone anything about the things you’ve done to me. It’ll be like none of it ever happened. We both move on with our lives. Separately. Got it?”

He draws closer and closer. Much too close.

“Oh, you silly, silly girl,” he tsks. “Do you really think you can call the shots? Do you really fucking think you have the upper hand here? That you can make the decision to end this marriage, just like that?”

Closer, until his chest brushes against yours.

“Luke, I’m giving you a fucking chance here,” you say, backing away until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. With nowhere else to go, to run, you fall backwards onto the bed, scrambling up towards the headboard. Your heart is pounding, too hard and too fast—would it give out before he even has the chance to get his hands on you? “Luke, please, just let me go.” Clasping your hands together in a plea, you beg him, your back pressed against the headboard, “If at any point in our relationship you loved me—if at any point in our marriage you actually cared about me, you will fucking let me go in peace. Please. Just let me go. Let me fucking go.”

Luke stands at the foot of the bed, his face blank.

Emotionless. There isn’t a single ounce of compassion in his eyes. No mercy. 

“Please,” you whisper once more. Curling both of your arms around yourself, you subconsciously protect your belly.

Luke reaches down and unbuckles his belt.

You watch, your stomach churning, as he slowly slides the black leather from the loops of his jeans.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke.” 

Joel clutches his stallion’s reins tightly in his hands as the pair fall into a slow, easy trot behind Tommy and his horse, Ranger.

He follows his brother as he leads the way through the quiet, tranquil plains of Wyoming. Instead of scanning their surroundings for signs of potential danger, all Joel can do is think about you—that was all he could ever do these days, was fucking think about you and about that fucking night.

The memory plays over and over in his mind on a loop, torturing him day in and day out. It never fucking stops. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

“I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke. And maybe it’s for the best if you just fucking stay away from me too.”

That’s precisely what he had done. He had stayed away from Luke. And against his better judgement, he had stayed away from you, too.

“How’s it feel to be back out here?” Tommy asks over his shoulder. He tugs at the reins and gives Ranger the cue to slow his trot, giving Joel and his horse, Bandit, the chance to catch up and ride at their side. “Bet you couldn’t be fuckin’ happier to be off house arrest, huh?” he adds, a light joking edge to his tone.

After about four and a half weeks, Joel had made a full recovery, and he was cleared to return to patrol duties. Wanting to ease him back into the swing of things after so much time off, Tommy decided to pair up with Joel as his partner for that morning’s watch. The two took a route just a few miles west of the community, one that was scoured every couple of days since it was so close to Jackson’s main gate.

“S’alright,” he mutters with a shrug that causes him to wince. His shoulder’s still a little sore. Ellie had assisted with his physical therapy, badgering him every single night to do the exercises in some book she’d found in the town’s library with Dina’s help. He had full range of motion again, and that’s all Tommy had needed in order to allow him to return to patrol.

“You feelin’ alright?” His brother notices the slight look of discomfort on his face. “Shoulder’s good?”

“Any particular reason you’re bein’ so annoyin’ today?”

Tommy feigns offense. “You got fuckin’ shot, Joel. Just makin’ sure you’re okay. Jesus.”

Joel lets out a small huff through his nose. “M’fine,” he assures him. “Shoulder’s good. Still hurts a little and the cold weather ain’t doin’ a whole lot to help, but ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.” Sitting back in his saddle, he lets his thighs close around Bandit. “Whoa,” he utters to the animal, his fingers squeezing the reins as he signals for Bandit to come to a halt.

“What’s the matter? Why are we stoppin’?”

“This route’s clear, Tommy. We should turn around and go find the rest of the group. Check and see if the other routes are clear too.” Joel clicks his tongue, prompting Bandit to move again. He steers the stallion and starts turning around to lead them back east, but then stops once more. He glimpses over at Tommy, who hasn’t moved a muscle. Noticing the odd, pensive expression on his face, Joel frowns, asking, “What’s wrong?”

Tommy chews the inside of his cheek, his apprehension written all over his face. “Uh Joel, there’s something we need to talk ‘bout and maybe it’s best if we do it while we’re out here, just the two of us.”

Confused, Joel’s eyebrows pull together. “What is it?”

His brother hesitates. His lips purse together, a sudden look of regret flashing across his features.

“Tommy?” Joel prompts. “The hell’s goin’ on?”

Exhaling a heavy sigh, he states, “You were right.”

“Right ‘bout what?”

“‘Bout Luke.”

Joel freezes in the seat of his saddle.

“You were fuckin’ right ‘bout him mistreatin’ her.”

His grip around the reins tightens, skin stretching thin over his knuckles so tight they’d gone white.

“She was over at mine yesterday afternoon. Ended up tellin’ me and Maria everthin’ ‘bout Luke and what he’s done.” Rolling his lower lip between his teeth, Tommy pauses for a second before repeating, “You were right. You were fuckin’ right ‘bout that bastard from the start and I’m real sorry that I didn’t fuckin’ believe you, Joel.”

Joel’s mind begins to race.

What had prompted you to finally tell Tommy and Maria about the abuse? Did something happen to you that he didn’t know about?

Ellie had been pretty good about keeping him posted. He would ask her about you the very minute she’d walk through the front door after her shift at the stables and she would provide him a full report.

“She’s fine. She ain’t hurt,” Tommy reassures him, as if he’d read his mind. “We’re plannin’ on movin’ her outta the house later on tonight.”

“What?” Finally, Joel speaks, his voice rigid.

Tommy holds his hands up in defense. “Now, hold on. I need you to give me a minute and let me explain—”

“She told you Luke’s been abusin’ her and you just let her go back to him? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Why didn’t you and Maria fuckin’ stop her?”

“Why didn’t you fuckin’ stop her the night you saw the bruise on her?” He shoots back at him. 

Joel stares at him, his lips parting slightly.

How did he fucking know about that? 

“She told us the truth ‘bout the affair too, Joel.”

“She did?”

“She did,” Tommy confirms with a nod. “I had a hunch, y’know. The day of the ambush, I thought I saw panic in her eyes when I told Ellie you’d been shot. Then I saw it again when she saw you there sittin’ on that table with a bullet in your shoulder, but I brushed it off. Thought she was just real worried ‘bout the kid seein’ as those two are thick as fuckin’ thieves, y’know?” Despite the serious nature of the conversation, he can’t help but let out a chuckle when he thinks of you and Ellie. “But now I know she was scared of losin’ you. That girl loves you, Joel. I know you love her too. I’m willin’ to bet it’s the reason you let her walk away that night. Why you kept her secret.”

“Jesus.” Joel exhales a shaky breath. “Y’must think I’m a real fuckin’ coward for knowin’ what he’s been doin’ to her and not doin’ a goddamn thing ‘bout it, huh?”

Tommy shakes his head.

“It’s a complicated situation, brother. She only did what she did for the good of the community. She’s still trying to do what’s best for Jackson, believe it or not. She, uh, she wants us to let Luke stay.”

“She wants you to let him stay?”

“Girl’s got too big of a heart. Doesn’t want the town to be without a doctor.”

“Ain’t no goddamn way you’d let him stay! After all the fuckin’ shit he’s done to her?” When his brother doesn’t respond, Joel narrows his eyes at him. “Jesus Christ. You can’t fuckin’ tell me you’re actually considerin’ it? Are you fuckin’ serious, Tommy? You and Maria would let that son of a bitch stay in Jackson? Knowin’ he’s spent two fuckin’ years puttin’ his hands on his wife?”

“Look here, alright? I don’t like the idea as much as you don’t, and neither does Maria,” he says. “But this ain’t exactly black and white, Joel. I really fuckin’ wish it was. But the hard truth is that Jackson does need a doctor, and unless one magically falls out of the fuckin’ sky, we ain’t got much of a choice here. My wife and child, they might need him, y’know? Maria’s considered a high risk ‘cause of her age. If somethin’ happens and there’s complications when she’s in labor, she and the baby are gonna need him. Our nurses, they ain’t really trained to handle things like that, y’know?”

Joel’s lips press together into a tight, thin line.

Of course it’s black and white to him—because he loves you. You’re his fucking priority. There’s no gray area for him. None.

But Tommy? His priority is Maria and their unborn child.

Joel can’t fault him for that, and he certainly isn’t going to try. But what about you?

“Listen, Joel. I know this is real fuckin’ hard, believe me I do. I care about that girl a lot, a whole fuckin’ lot. I saw her as family long before I knew ‘bout your relationship with her and before I knew she was—”

He stops abruptly, red splotching his cheeks.

Joel still doesn’t know he is going to be a father. Again.

“Before you knew she was what, Tommy?”

“Tommy!” A woman’s voice shouts. “Joel! Over here!”

The two brothers glance over their shoulders and see the rest of their morning patrol group heading towards them.

Tommy bites back a sigh of utter relief. That had been too fucking close.

He turns to Joel, lowering his voice. “Joel, I need you to listen, and listen to me real good. We’ve gotta take this one step at a time. First thing’s first, me and Maria are gonna get her outta that house. She can stay with us at our place for a while. She’ll be safe with us. That much I can promise you.”

“Then what?”

“Don’t know yet. We get her out first and then we figure things out from there. In the meantime, I’m gonna need you to stay calm, Joel. Please. Don’t go off and do somethin’ stupid, alright?”

That had been a lot easier said than done.

Joel needed to talk to you.

He needed to fucking see you. 

But his brother had been adamant.

“Don’t fuckin’ get involved, Joel. Not ‘til we get her out. I don’t want things to fuckin’ explode in our faces, alright? Let me handle this.” 

Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel leans back into the couch and looks down at the guitar in his lap—he’d just spent the last hour carefully polishing it in an effort to keep himself occupied. He thought back to that night you’d come over to gift it to him, how he had kissed you for the first time mere hours before you showed up on his doorstep with your father’s Gibson.

As he gives the guitar a gentle test strum, he recalls the request you made for him to sing you a song and a dull ache settles in his chest, right over his heart. He’ll sing you every song you want to hear, if given the chance.

Part of him is optimistic that he would get the chance.

You were meant to be his. He was meant to be yours.

He just fucking knows it.

Joel’s train of thought is shattered by the sound of the front door opening, and then loudly slamming shut.

“Ellie?” He calls out.

Her voice comes from the hallway. “Yeah?”

“C’mere, kiddo.”

Ellie grumbles incoherently as she walks into the living room, hair disheveled, clothes filthy, and her sneakers caked with muck from the stables.

Joel frowns at her. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Today was just really fucking shitty and while that was a great pun, for once, it was not fucking intended,” she sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you called me in here to ask me about her, I’d save my breath. She stayed home today. She’s sick.”

Joel’s stomach instantly drops. “She’s sick?”

“Yeah. With like a really bad cold or something.”

Putting down the guitar, he questions, “And who told you that?”

“Dina,” Ellie replies, looking puzzled. “She said Luke told her—” She stops abruptly as he jumps to his feet and immediately shoves past her, heading towards the front door. She spins around on her heel, following him. As he flies down the porch and starts down the road towards your house, she is forced to jog along beside him just to keep up with his stride. “What, what? What is it? Fucking answer me, Joel, what is it?”

“She ain’t fuckin’ sick, Ellie.”

“What do you mean she’s not—oh fuck. You don’t think she’s hiding out at home because—?” Ellie’s heartbeat stutters when the realization sinks in. “Luke.”

When the pair arrive at your place, they find a very, very distraught Maria Miller standing on the front porch, her hands wrapped around the doorknob. “Hon, I need you to let me in!” She turns and pulls the knob, desperately. “Please! Open the door for me!”

Your tearful voice comes from the other side. “Go away, Maria!”

The sound of Joel’s boots prompt Maria to turn around. “Joel,” she breathes out his name in relief. “I can’t get her to open the door. Tommy went to see if we have a spare key for the unit. He hasn’t come back and I don’t know what to do.”

“Break a fucking window, maybe?” Ellie snaps at her.

Joel silences her with a glare and then takes Maria by her arms, moving her to stand behind him. “Open the goddamn door!” he commands firmly, pounding his fist harshly against the wood. He can almost feel the way you freeze on the other side the moment you hear the sound of his voice. “Open this fuckin’ door right now!”

Ellie chimes in, “Come on, please open the door!”

“Go away!”

Joel continues to beat his fists against the door. “Show me what he fuckin’ did to you!” He shouts as he drops his hands to the doorknob, clawing at it as if somehow that’s going to do the trick and open the door. “C’mon! Show me what that fuckin’ bastard did to you!”

“Please, go away, all of you! Just leave me alone!”

“You know we can’t do that,” Maria calls. “You’re going to have to open this door and let us—”

Losing what very little patience he has to begin with in the first place, Joel cuts her off. “I will fuckin’ break this door down if I have to,” he threatens. “I’ll cause a scene and let everyone in this whole fuckin’ town know what Luke does to you. Is that what you want?”

He hears the lock click almost instantly.

Finally, you crack the door open and peek out to show them your face. “There, you fucking see?” Your face is blotchy, your eyes red and swollen from crying. “I’m fucking fine! Now fucking go away!”

You try shutting the door, but Joel is too quick and slips the toe of his boot in, wedging it between the door and the doorframe.

“Move, Joel!”

“Nope,” he says, keeping it planted firmly in place.

Not wanting to break his foot, you let up and he shoves his way inside with Ellie and Maria trailing behind him.

Taking a clumsy step backwards, you gather up the front of your knitted cardigan in your trembling hands, bunching it around your neck to conceal it. “Get out! Please, just get out!” you beg them through your sobs. “Please leave! I’m fine! Look at me, I’m perfectly fine—”

Heart hammering painfully against his sternum, Joel walks over and he takes your wrists. “Let me see. Baby, please. Just let me see.” His voice is raw, thick, as if he were on the verge of tears himself. He just knows he’s failed you, failed to keep all those promises he had made about never letting anything bad happen to you. He’s fucking failed. Again. He tries to find your gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. “Let me see,” he chokes out again, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast against the iciness of your own. “I’ll force you if I have to, so please just show me. Please, just fuckin’ show me what he did to you.”

Letting out another agonized sob, you drop your hands and let go of the material, letting it fall back into place at your sides and exposing your injury.

Maria gasps into her hands. “God.” 

“Fuck.” Ellie’s eyes widen in complete horror.

Joel drops your wrists, taking a step backwards as his eyes glaze over the severe discoloration around your neck.

He feels fucking sick to his stomach, but it isn’t until he notices the clear imprint of a square belt buckle on the column of your throat that Joel thinks he might actually be sick all over the floor.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

Luke’s voice suddenly echoes through the foyer. He stands near the front door, looking thoroughly confused—that is, until he sees you standing there, exposing what he had done to you the night before with his belt. The very same belt he’s wearing now.

No one has the chance to speak.

No one has the chance to think.

No one even has the chance to breathe.

Joel charges at Luke. He roughly snatches the collar of his jacket and pulls him further into the foyer of the house, away from the open front door so that he has nowhere to run.

You rush towards them. “Joel, stop! No!”

Maria quickly hurries to stop you, grabbing you by the back of your sweater. She yanks you back and out of harm’s way. “Don’t!”

Horrified, you watch as Joel slams Luke straight into the mirror hanging on the wall—head first. He pulls him forward, then slams him back even harder, the impact completely shattering the glass. Hundreds of shards go flying across the hardwood floor.

“Oh shit! Watch out!” Ellie jumps back as a sharp piece of broken glass lands between her sneakers.

“Joel, stop it! Please, stop!” you cry out as Maria grasps your arm to keep you from jumping in the middle of the altercation. “Stop it!”

But Joel is too far gone. Ignoring your desperate cries, he wraps one hand around Luke’s neck, holding him in place. His other hand curls into a tight fist and he starts delivering bone shattering blow after bone shattering blow to his face. “You wanna fuckin’ hit someone?” He snarls as the man’s nose cracks beneath his knuckles. “You wanna fuckin’ put your hands on someone? Huh? Then you fuckin’ put ‘em on me! C’mon, I fuckin’ dare you to put ‘em on me!”

Throwing Luke onto the floor, Joel climbs on top of him and he secures both of his hands around his throat. He feels the uncontrollable urge to do to him what he had done to you—only, unlike Luke, he doesn’t need a belt, and unlike Luke, he isn’t going to stop.

He isn’t going to let him live.

Joel squeezes Luke’s neck, cutting off his oxygen.

“How do you fuckin’ like it,” he hisses, irises going from brown to black as he presses harder on his windpipe. “C’mon, tough guy, tell me how you fuckin’ like it.”

Luke feebly claws and scratches at his hands, gurgling as blood starts coming out of his nose and mouth.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy rushes into the house, his boots scraping against the floor as he skids to halt. Without hesitating, he jumps into action. “Joel, stop! Fuckin’ let him go! Let him go!” He reaches down to pull him off.

“Look at what he did to her! Fuckin’ look at her!”

Tommy turns his attention to you, and the color drains from his face. “Jesus Christ,” he breathes out, shocked by the mark around your neck. He has half a mind to step back and allow Joel to finish the job, but with you, Ellie, and Maria watching on in terror, Tommy doesn’t have a choice. He grabs fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt and tries to tug him off the man he’s about to kill. “Fuckin’ let him go, Joel! Right now! That’s an order!”

Luke’s attempts to fight him off grow weaker. His face is beaten beyond recognition, and there’s a pool of dark red growing under him, dripping from a deep laceration he’d sustained from the being slammed head first into the mirror. His hands fall from around Joel’s wrists. He’s close to losing complete consciousness.

“Joel, let him go!” Tommy bellows. “Now!”

“Tommy, be careful!” Maria warns him, worriedly.

Somehow, he finally manages to peel Joel off Luke. He shoves him up against the nearest wall, pinning him in place. Behind him, Luke coughs and sputters violently, gasping as he frantically tries to breathe some air back into his lungs.

“Fuckin’ let go of me!” Joel growls, his eyes wild as he drives his fists into Tommy’s chest. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him! Let me fuckin’ go!”

Tommy cups Joel’s face in his hands and tries to meet his gaze. “Hey, look at me, I need you to calm the fuck down—I said fuckin’ look at me, Joel!” He demands. “I need you to calm the fuck down. I know that he fuckin’ deserves it, alright? Trust me, it’s takin’ all the strength I’ve got in me not to fuckin’ let go, let you kill the son of a bitch. Hell, there’s a part of me that wants to help you fuckin’ do it! But it ain’t the way we handle things here. M’gonna need you to take a breath and calm down, big brother. If anythin’, just do it for her sake, alright?”

Joel’s chest heaves, his breaths rough and ragged as his eyes flicker over to you. His heart sinks at the sight of you sobbing uncontrollably in Ellie and Maria’s arms.

Groaning, Luke rolls over onto his stomach and spits a mouthful of blood into the floor. “You can fucking have her,” he rasps, looking up at Joel through swollen eyes. “Keep her. Keep the useless little whore.”

Blinded by white hot rage, Joel starts thrashing around in Tommy’s grasp and tries to break loose. “Fuckin’ call her that again you fuckin’ son of a bitch—”

“Shit.” Dropping her arms from around you, Ellie steps forward, standing protectively in front of both you and Maria.

“Get the fuck off me, Tommy! M’gonna fuckin’ kill him!”

Maria tucks your face into her shoulder. “Don’t watch.”

“Joel, fuckin’ stop it already!” Tommy struggles to keep him in place. “You’re scarin’ her half to death!”

“I don’t fuckin’ care—”

Tommy’s fingers curl around the collar of his shirt. He slams Joel back against the wall so hard, the mirror, or at least what’s left of it, falls. The square frame breaks in half when it hits the floor.

“Well, you should fuckin’ care! She’s pregnant, Joel.”

You lift your head from Maria’s shoulder. “Tommy.”

Ellie spins around on her heel to face you. She stares at you with wide, round eyes. “You’re fucking pregnant?”

Joel looks over at you. Just as shocked, if not more.

“What?” 

Tommy grabs his chin, forcing his older brother to look at him once more. “It’s true,” he murmurs quietly. “So please, just take a goddamn breath and calm the fuck down. For her sake—and for the sake of your child.” He releases Joel’s shirt and takes a careful step backwards towards Luke, who is still groaning in pain on the floor. Once he realizes Joel isn’t going to charge him again, Tommy turns around and grabs the injured man by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him up to his feet in a rough, careless manner. “Get the fuck up,” he says. He drags him towards the door. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“Tommy? Where are you taking him?” Maria questions him.

“Town jail. M’gonna throw his sorry ass in a fuckin’ cell and leave him in there ‘til we figure out what to do with him.” He glances over his shoulder. “I’ll get the council together for an emergency meetin’ tonight.”

“Jesus,” Ellie mutters under her breath as soon as they disappear. “Did this really just fucking happen?”

Chest still heaving, Joel glances down at his bloodied, torn knuckles and then turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. The tension between the two of you is almost palpable.

Maria lightly clears her throat. “We should probably get out of here,” she suggests. “Let’s head on over to mine and Tommy’s while we wait for him to get back.”

“Are you cold?” Ellie asks, worriedly.

She holds up a blue fleece throw blanket she’d dug out from the hallway closet despite you warning her not to snoop around the house while Maria’s in the bathroom tending to Joel’s hand.

Shaking your head, you sigh, “I’m fine.”

“But it’s cold in here.” She drapes the blanket over your hunched shoulders. “Can I get you something? Water? Are you hungry? You should probably eat something—”

“Ellie, please stop with all the fussing.” You pat the spot on the couch beside you. “Just sit here with me. That’s all I need right now.”

Nodding, she sits down and angles herself toward you, getting a closer look at the wound you’d been left with.

“Shit,” Ellie mutters under her breath. Grimacing, she lifts a hand and gingerly presses her fingertips to your neck in disbelief. “Fuck, dude. How bad does it hurt?” She touches a particularly sore spot on the column of your throat and you hiss in pain. She retracts her hand and sputters an apology, “Fuck, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Wincing, you assure her, “It’s fine. It’s just a little tender right now, that’s all.”

“A little?” she scoffs.

“Okay, maybe more than a little,” you admit.

Ellie observes you for a moment. “Are you okay?”

“It’ll heal, Ellie. It looks worse than it really is.”

“No, I mean—” Pausing, Ellie moves her hand, placing it on your stomach. “Is the baby okay?”

You glance down at yourself, almost as if you expected to see something different about yourself, but then you remember you’re only about six weeks along and there is nothing to see, no significant changes to your body. Perhaps it’s the reason why there’s a part of you having a hard time grasping that Ellie’s asking if the baby was okay. If your baby is okay.

After a minute, you nod. “Yeah, I think so,” you reply softly, putting a hand over hers.

Relieved, Ellie flashes you a small smile. “Good.”

“How are you two doing in here?” Maria appears in the living room with Joel trailing behind her. His right hand is wrapped up in a white bandage.

“We’re okay.” Ellie glances at Joel. “You okay?”

He gives a quick, subtle nod of his head. “M’fine.”

“We can take her home now, right?” When Ellie doesn’t ge the immediate response she’s seeking, she shoots him a tiny little glare. “She’s coming home with us, isn’t she? I mean, she fucking has to come home with us.”

He still doesn’t answer her question.

All Joel can do is stare at you, jaw clenched and his lips pressed into a tight, thin line.

“Hey, Ellie, how about we go into the kitchen and make some tea?” Maria beckons to her with her hand.

She snorts. “Seriously? Who the hell wants fucking tea after that fucking shitshow—”

Maria pins her with an exasperated glare. “Ellie.”

“Oh shit, okay. I get it now,” Ellie quickly realizes it’s simply an excuse for the two of them to leave the room. Dropping her hand away from your stomach, she jumps up to her feet and wraps her arms around you. Her hug is brief, but full of warmth and reassurance, as if she’s silently telling you everything’s going to be alright. She releases you and follows Maria to the kitchen, leaving you and Joel alone.

Nervously, you stand up, your knees wobbling.

You feel torn—torn between wanting to run over to him and jump into his arms, and wanting to run away in the opposite direction to find somewhere to bury your head in shame. You’d promised him he had nothing to worry about, swore to him you couldn’t bear a child, and now here you were, carrying his and putting a responsibility on his shoulders he didn’t ask for. A responsibility that, surely, he doesn’t want.

On top of everything else he’d been through with you.

No, because of you. And now this?

Somehow, you muster up enough courage to speak.

“Joel,” you squeak his name. “Say something.”

“You sure you’re pregnant?” He asks, quietly. He stands across the room, making no move to come closer.

Swallowing harshly, you nod. “I’m sure.”

“How long have you known?”

“I only just found out yesterday,” you swear.

“And Tommy and Maria fuckin’ knew before me?”

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or if he’s disappointed—not that either was a better option than the other.

“I was here with them yesterday in the afternoon. I got sick out of nowhere. Maria’s the one who suspected it and suggested I take a pregnancy test when I realized I haven’t had my period since August. After the first time that you and I—well, you know.” Shifting from one foot to the other, you continue to explain, “It never even fucking crossed my mind, Joel. I didn’t notice anything. I didn’t notice the symptoms. Missing my period, the dizziness, and the nausea. I was so busy trying to keep myself from fucking falling apart without you that it all went right over my head.”

Joel’s harsh expression suddenly softens.

“I took the test. When the results turned out positive, I just lost it. I fucking lost it, and I told Tommy and Maria everything because I was scared.” Your voice breaks, and a tear slips out from the corner of your eye, rolling down the side of your face. Several more threaten to follow, but you blink them back. “They offered to help me, Joel. They wanted to get me out of the house last night, but I was too fucking stubborn. I didn’t listen to them. I thought I’d be fine for one more night, but when Luke came home, he wanted to be intimate with me.”

Joel sucks in a sharp breath. His anger boils in his veins all over again. “And did he—he touch you like that?”

“No, of course not. I didn’t let him. I couldn’t let him. I told him not to touch me and I pushed him away.”

“Then what happened?”

“I told him that it was over. That our marriage was over and I was leaving. That’s when he took off his belt and he—” Gesturing to your throat, you start sobbing again as images of the night before flood your mind.

Luke had done pretty horrific things to you before, but this? 

This had been the worst of them. He almost killed you.

“Baby.” Joel rushes over to you and pulls you right into his arms. “Shh, darlin’. S’alright,” he soothes. “S’alright, you’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

Whimpering, you met into his touch, the very touch you have been missing with every fiber of your being. “I’m so sorry, Joel,” you croak into his chest. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

He pulls away slightly, peering down at you. “Sorry? For what?” Without even giving you the chance to answer, he assures you, “There ain’t nothin’ for you to apologize for, sweet girl. Alright?”

You let out a tearful scoff. “Joel, I’m pregnant. And it’s fucking yours,” you remind him, the guilt in your tone loud and clear. “Don’t you remember how worried you were about it? And how I told you that you had nothing to be concerned about?”

“Don’t put it all on yourself, peach.”

You almost smile.

Oh, how you’ve missed hearing him call you that.

“Look, this is on me too, baby. Part of me knew there was still a possibility, but I didn’t care. All I cared ‘bout was makin’ you mine every fuckin’ chance I got.” Joel’s hand cups the side of your face. He chuckles nervously and says, “Y’know, at one point, I kinda thought I was at the age where I’m shootin’ blanks more than anythin’ else. Guess we were both wrong, huh?”

“Joel—”

He cuts you off. “And if you’re worried I’m upset ‘bout you bein’ pregnant, you’re wrong ‘bout that too, darlin’.”

Surprised, you blurt, “You mean, you want the baby?”

Now it's his turn to be taken aback.

“Y’thought I wouldn’t want it?”

“Yeah,” you confess, sheepishly. “I thought you would be mad about this, if I’m being honest, Joel. I wasn’t sure if you’d even want anything to do with it.” Noticing he’d taken some offense to the notion that he wouldn’t want his own child, you exhale a small sigh and place a hand on his chest. “Come on, Joel, can you honestly blame me? When you were the one who was so damn worried about me getting knocked up in the first place? Wouldn’t you have thought the same if you were me?”

He grazes your cheek with his thumb. “Can’t lie to you, sweetheart. I probably would have.” Letting his hand fall away from your face, Joel takes a seat on the couch and pulls you down onto his lap. “Sure as hell wasn’t in my plans to have another kid in my fuckin’ fifties. But y’know, the idea of having a little one runnin’ around, it ain’t all that fuckin’ bad.” He pauses, adding with a faint grin, “‘Specially if he or she happens to look like you.”

Relieved, you lean into his chest, shoulders sagging in exhaustion. 

“You alright?” Joel murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair.

Burying your face into his neck, you breathe him in. “I am now that I’m with you,” you confess as he wraps his arms around you, holding you tighter than he ever has before.

“M’gonna take real good care of you, darlin’. Both of you,” Joel reassures you, softly. “Nothin’s gonna hurt you, baby. S’long as you’re with me, nothin’ or no one is ever gonna hurt you ever again. Swear it on my life.”

[maryleclerc]

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧

pairing: charles leclerc x reader ; carlos sainz x reader

face-claim: gigi hadid

summary: in which after knowing about reader pregnancy, charles decided to make everything right.

warning: mention of pregnancy, exes!, paparazzi. use google translate,swearing. english is not my native language! does not have any pregnancy experience!

so i’ll made this mini series with 2 ending, one will be reader end with charles and other one will end with carlos (ofc if reader end up with carlos which mean the reason why reader and charles broke up will change too)

more importantly: reader you can suggest any baby girl name too!! or baby boy idk 😩🙏 also suggest some drama and stuff ideas!!

if you wanted to add into taglist please reply or dm me

read part 01

yourusername

Liked by carlossainz55 and others

yourusername With my bestie! @/carlossainz55

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carlossainz55 Bestieeee

yewenmitle Love their friendship already!!!

roseross How can they be so cute not even trying

⤷ yourusername Born natural 🥸

dailypaparazzi

2,799,678 likes

dailymail Y/n Y/l/n and Carlos Sainz spotted having a cozy dinner in Monaco

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friendsaddictedd Oooh sound ✨ROMANTIC✨

kiearre She looks serious tho, her face

livinginthedprm Everybody saying Carlos has a crush on Y/n. HE DESERVE TO BE LOVE TOO!! they would be so cute together

f1lovelifeupdates

58,510 likes

f1lovelifeupdates Charles Leclerc has confirmed that he and Megan have broken up a months ago, after 2 months of dating. And he also confirmed that his ex-girlfriend, Y/n, is pregnant with their first child.

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haileylee Ok, I don’t really care about them… all I need to know is Charles know about the baby?

charlessbaby I missed them so much!!!

ppeeeepss Megan, she’s wonderful, pretty and talent how can this happen. I just hope he’s not get back with Y/n

⤷ lovensfw Honey, we know but he’s a grown man so I think it is very important to know what’s ‘responsibility’ mean 😀 also Y/n’s PERFECTLY FINE!!!

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc,carlossainz55 and 8,610,350 others

yourusername 👶👩‍🍼💞

Hello everyone!

Recently, there have been photos of me and of course, photos of me pregnant that were unintentionally leaked. And that's also the reason why I spoke up about this, (why do I sound so serious, haha) anyway, it's been a while and it's time to share with you guys.

Since you love me, you deserve me to share your joys with you. Yes, I'm pregnant and my baby is 8 months old!! time flies, since the day I announced that I would take a temporary break for a while because I felt OVERWHELM, that actually was the time I wanted to devote all my time to taking care of myself as well as my baby, prepare to be a mommy. And I am truly grateful to all of you who have sent me kind words and wishes, I truly appreciate it!!

Love you all so much! Also, I still don't know what to name our baby, so I need your suggestions

IT’S A GIRL!! (reader also can suggest a name too!!)

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lolamckaylee Congrat to you Y/n

_josephinee Who’s the baby daddy?

⤷ ynsqueen It’s Charles Leclerc

⤷ _josephinee Wait I thought he dating someone else, and knock her up?

⤷ johnsongreen HIM AND MEGAN BROKE UP!!

carlossainzstuff_

1,681 likes

carlossainzstuff_ Carlos has mention Y/n on today “We asked Carlos Sainz what F1 fan really want to know” by P1 with Matt & Tommy.

Tommy asked Carlos if he knew that F1 fans were very curious about the relationship between Carlos and Y/n after the photos taken by paparazzi when they spend sometime at Monaco.

TOMMY: Did you know that every F1 fan here wanted to know if you and Y/n are a thing?

CARLOS: We’re bestfriend, bff

TOMMY: But there are also had that one question that has been ask alot that’s “Are having a crush on Y/n?”

CARLOS: It’s really hard to not fall for her, she’s so kind and everything. Everybody love her, how can I not

TOMMY: Yea, It’s true. And you also know that she’s pregnant right?

CARLOS: She look espléndida

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carloswifee He’s madly in love with her, NOT crushes, just LOVE

yncarlossainzs The way his eyes look at them when they mention of Y/n is wholesome, he talk about her like a proud boyfriend

ferarrilovrs__ Thinking of when they’re really dating, ahh I can’t stop kicking my feet!!

carlossainzsidechick SOMEONE KISS HIM ON THE FOREHEAD RIGHT NOW!!!!!

[ to be continue ]

( taglist ) @janeholt3 @formulas-bitch @celestialams @aundercover

[solarsturniolo]

Hiii, I’m Natalie but you can call me Nat 💋. I’m 22 and have been watching the triplets since spring 2022. Not much you need to know about me tbh and not that you or anyone else really cares anyways.

I am an adult, i do write adult content about other adults. if this makes you uncomfortable, you are not obligated to read any of it and i wholeheartedly understand. Also keep in mind that I am an adult and i work a full time job. Writing is my hobby. I will not be as consistent with posting because I do have other priorities that come first. I will try to update as much as possible, but once again I am an adult with an adult life and adult responsibilities. All I ask is that you stay patient with me and show some grace where it is needed. I work very hard on my writing and appreciate any attention that it gets, please do not blow up my inbox repeatedly with the same prompt. I promise you that I see it.

Here is a masterlist of everything that I write, I'll do my best to keep it updated!

I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO MY WORKS BEING REPOSTED ONTO THIS PLATFORM OR ANOTHER PLATFORM. IF YOU REUPLOAD MY WRITING AND CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN, I WILL NOT BE AFRAID TO GET A LAWYER INVOLVED. WRITE YOUR OWN, POST YOUR OWN. DO NOT REPOST MY WRITING. REPOSTING MY STUFF WITHOUT MY CONSENT IS AN ALL RIGHTS RESERVED COPYRIGHT VIOLATION AND YOU CAN BE CONVICTED WITH A COPYRIGHT CRIME. DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND JUST DONT REPOST MY STUFF :)

If you’d like to be added to my tag list, click here!

Also, here is a reminder of how to NOT inbox me about inquiries on updates, new prompts, or just in general. Click here!

Key

🚀 - smut

✨ - fluff

🪐- angst

🌌- other

ℭ𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔰 𝔖𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔬

✫彡 Too Damn Long pt 1 🚀

✫彡 Too Damn Long pt 2 🚀

✫彡 Too Damn Long pt 3 🚀

✫彡 Too Damn Long pt 4 🚀

✫彡 Too Damn Long pt 5 (final part) 🚀

✫彡 Nail Tech (Coming Soon)

✫彡 Twisted (Coming Soon)

✫彡 The Ice Breaker (Coming Soon)

✫彡 Nothing (Coming Soon)

✫彡 Dr.Feelgood (Coming Soon)

✫彡 Record Label (Coming Soon)

✫彡 Money, Money, Money (Coming Soon)

✫彡 The Irony of Choking On a Lifesaver (Coming Soon)

✫彡 King of the Jungle (Coming Soon)

✫彡 Texts w Best Friend!Chris ✨🌌

✫彡 Texts w Best Friend!Chris pt 2 ✨🌌

✫彡 Texts w Best Friend!Chris pt 3✨🌌

✫彡 Texts w Best Friend!Christ pt 4 ✨🌌

✫彡 Texts w FWB!Chris 🚀🪐✨🌌

✫彡 Texts w FWB!Chris pt 2 🚀🪐✨🌌

✫彡 Texts w FWB!Chris pt 3 🚀🪐✨🌌

✫彡 Texts w Bf!Chris

HEADCANONS

✫彡 Sub!Chris 🚀🌌

✫彡 Overstimulated (Coming soon)

𝔐𝔞𝔱𝔱 𝔖𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔬

✫彡 We're Just Friends pt 1 🚀

✫彡 We’re Just Friends pt 2 🚀

✫彡 We're Just Friends pt 3 🪐✨🌌

✫彡 We’re Just Friends pt 4

✫彡 We’re Just Friends pt 5 (Coming Soon)

✫彡 Not My First Rodeo (Coming Soon)

✫彡 Creep: Introduction,

✫彡 Temporary Bliss (Coming Soon)

✫彡 Pugs 'N’ Kisses Prologue 🪐🚀🌌

✫彡 Pugs 'N' Kisses: One

✫彡 Nothing 🪐🌌

✫彡 Comfort Zone (Coming Soon) ✨

✫彡 Texts w Bf!Matt pt 1 🚀🌌

✫彡 Texts w Bf!Matt pt 2 🚀🌌

✫彡 Texts w Bf!Matt pt 3 🚀🌌

✫彡 Texts w Bf!Matt pt 4

✫彡 Texts w Bf!Matt pt 5

✫彡 Texts w Bf!Matt pt 6

✫彡 Texts w Bf!Matt pt 7

✫彡 Texts w FWB!Matt

HEADCANONS

✫彡 Sub!Matt 🚀🌌

✫彡 NSFW Alphabet 🚀🌌

✫彡 Overstimulated 🚀🌌

✫彡 Dom!Matt (Coming Soon)

THINGS I WILL NOT WRITE ABOUT: STEP SIBLINGS??????????, Nick x fem!reader, self-harm, suicidal thoughts or tendencies, incest???!!!!!!, sensitive topics such as eating disorders, abuse, etc, any kinks involving urine or feces, beastiality, SEXUAL ASSAULT OR R*PE, (this list will probably be continued at some point but this is what i have for now)

Natalie’s Recommended

These are all great stories that I’ve read and recommend! Definitely check these stories out!

ℭ𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔰 𝔖𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔬

✫彡 Panty Thief by @evieolo

✫彡 Lollipop by @freshloverr (Part two here!)

✫彡“Cool Spider” by @gamermattsgf

𝔐𝔞𝔱𝔱 𝔖𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔬

✫彡 Painted by @flowerxbunnie

✫彡 Ink by @flowerxbunnie

✫彡 7 Minutes in Heaven by @middlepartmatt

[sophiethewitch1]

i got diagnosed with dystonia and cogwheel rigidity so needless to say I've been having a hard time lmao. Do you think the batboys would be more protective over a MC who can't really move properly due to her physical disability/disabilities?

Aw man, I'm so sorry to hear that :( As someone with fibro, I really get it.

Anyway, yes they'd be way too overprotective with you. They all know what it's like to be in pain, and to be restricted because of that. Of course, there's was because of broken bones and other such things, things that were temporary. But they can still understand and sympathise.

Tim and Damian would be very inclined to keep you under house arrest, but they'd still want what's best for you. Your health is the number one priority, their own petty greed second. Jason says he's willing to be your personal carrier pigeon, and it's kind of obvious he's more than willing. Dick is always happy to help, waiting hand and foot for you to be just that little bit more comfortable. All of them really want your appreciation and acknowledgement. They're desperate to be helpful, to be needed by you. If you just say thanks they're willing to go to the ends of the world for you. They'd probably do it anyway, but shush.

And even with them being that protective in the house, it's so much worse if you want to go out. They have a group chat where they share the itinerary, and make sure wherever you go is accessible for you. And if anyone ever dares mock you for the way you move, or any of your mobility/disability aids... god help that soul. They deserve it of course, but even I can say the punishment they deal out is a bit... much.

That's all to say, these boys care about one thing, and that's making you as happy as possible. Everything else is just an obstacle. And honestly, give those four geniuses enough time and you might even end up cured. They might be a little sad after, because you're not quite as reliant on them. It was nice, being able to keep you safe, keep you close. Just make sure to give them extra love, okay?

[neowinestainedress]

Hey! Could I ask for some drabble/fic if you're comfortable with it? Bf haechan can't keep his hands off of her gf's body. All day sensually rubbing her nipples, belly, clit, even with her clothes on. It gets her aroused and she returns the favor by rubbing his body on the sensitive parts too. She just doesn't know that he's so eager to breed her until one day he did a number on her and promised to make her boobs lactating and her belly swollen soon. Only then she realizes how nasty and messy he actually gets every time they fuck. At the end of the day, he lays you down on your back and puts a pillow to support your hips, believing it could help you conceive better. Love your work.

w!: unprotected s*x, breeding kink, pregnancy talk, fingering, handjob, nipple play, dirty talk, aftercare

a/n: this took me longer than i wanted to but i received two breeding kink asks in a row and i didn’t want to make a copy of one another so i needed a break in between. anyway, i hope it was worth the wait!

“Why are you so touchy?” You ask, tilting your head to the side to look at your boyfriend that’s laying on the couch with you, his hands not leaving a single spot of your body untouched. 

“What? I can’t appreciate your body?” Haechan pouts, lightly squeezing your boob and making you laugh. 

“No, ‘course you can,” you say, closing the book you’re reading and keeping the mark with your thumb, “it’s just you’re all over me lately. More than usual, and your usual is already a lot.” 

Haechan shrugs, going back to caress your belly until his fingers craze your covered clit through the fabric of the thin shorts you’re wearing. 

“Oh, yeah, I had to imagine this is where it was going,” you giggle. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he whispers, starting to rub his fingertips in circles. 

“About fucking me?” 

He shakes his head, and nervously bites his lips. “Yeah, but not really. It’s more specific…” 

“Oh, what is it?” 

“Nothing, just go back to reading,” 

You frown, confused he’s hiding something from you. Usually, he’s pretty upfront about everything that runs through his mind, so how weird could this be? But you shrug it off, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your clit and nipples. 

“Fuck it,” you groan when the feeling gets stronger, and you carelessly slam the book on the coffee table before turning around to face him. Your hands quickly find their way in his pants, moving under the hem of his underwear to grab his hard dick. “Just touching my boobs got you so hard?” 

“It’s not my fault they’re so pretty,” he says, eyes falling on them, perfectly pressed against the tight top by the bra, “… and so full.”

“What?” You ask, not sure you heard right, but he shuts you with a kiss. 

Another frown forms on your face, and you start thinking that he might have a sudden passion for boobs so the hand that’s not stroking his dick moves up on his stomach until it reaches his sensitive nipples. 

“Fuck,” he moans, head falling back. 

“Oh, sensitive, aren’t you?” 

“Shut up,” he grunts but you only chuckle at his flustered expression. 

You think you’ve solved the enigma, but you have no idea how far from the solution you actually are until a few days later Haechan’s fucking you, legs on his shoulders and cock slamming inside you. 

“Wanna breed you,” he confesses, and from the temporary shock on his face you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud, but his secret is out so he decides to be honest. “I’m sorry, but I really want you — fuck — want to see you carry my baby.”

You’re a bit taken aback, mostly because your brain is already far gone from all the fingering, and touching, that this new information mid-sex it’s the last drop. 

“Do you want to?” He asks, hips slowing down just a bit. “Want to be the mother of my children?” 

“I do, I — shit — yes, I want to,” you whimper, a bit surprised this is even up for discussion. 

“Fuck, babe, I love you so much,” he groans, kissing you messily as he goes back to the fast rhythm of before, leaving you breathless. 

You should’ve known, from how messy he is, how happy he was the first time you let him fuck you raw, how he sucked at pulling out (because even if you were on the pill you were pretty forgetful and thought that could save you), how messy he actually was once you two were done, pumping his fingers into your swollen cunt to push all his cum back in, and lastly, how unbothered he was when you forgot the pill.

“I want it so much, want to see you all full of me, want to see your boobs grow and be full of milk,” he groans before his hand cups the right one, touching it gently as he leans down to suck the other nipple, making you arch your back and moan louder. “I’ll take care of you, massage you when you’re sore.” 

You can only whimper and cry as you feel overwhelmed with pleasure, yet you can’t help bucking your hips into him, eager to feel more. 

“Gonna give you another load, babe. Gonna make sure you’re full of my cum, so much it overflows,” he says, voice hoarse as his hips snap faster in and out of you. Want my cum?” 

You nod swiftly, feeling close to the edge again, looking at him with watery eyes. 

“Beg me for it, beg me,” Haechan moans, voice pitched and face contorted in pleasure. “Beg me to make you a mommy.”

“Please, Hyuck, please, breed me,” you plead, nails sinking into the skin of his arms when you can’t control your body anymore. 

“Fuck,” he groans, “come with me,” he urges, rubbing quick circles on your clit, triggering your orgasm and consequently triggering his too. 

“What are you doing?” You ask when he grabs a pillow from the end of the bed and gently places it under your hips, pushing some cum back into you with two fingers, making you bite back a whimper. 

Haechan smiles, leaning close to kiss you. “Heard it helps conceive,” he confesses shyly, a red blush spreading on his face. 

“You don’t get to act shy after you just confessed a breeding kink and probably even succeeded considering how forgetful I am of the pill,” you joke, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Maybe it’s your unconscious telling you something,” he says, caressing your belly, making you look down. 

“Maybe,” you smile, sighing happily. “Maybe we could also go for another round later, just to make sure we succeed.” 

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[matan4il]

Im currently doing a simple poll on my other account what Tumblr thinks of a Free Palestine and I say the results so far are a little concerning

And then two comments so far:

ardwolff: That's like saying we give a small chunk of land back to the indigenous American people and keep the rest for ourselves while we "live in peace" -- y'all do realize a Palestine historically was home to Jewish people and can be again if we abolish the Israel - backed apartheid ethnostate. No theocratic ethnostates should exist. They are inherently unjust

beigale-shtuchim: hey buddy what happened to the jewish population in MENA states?

Hi! First off, sorry that it took me so long to reply, I am getting so many asks, and I do not have as much time to reply as I would like, despite doing my best to find it... But I hope you know that I appreciate everything you do!

Thank you so much for doing this poll, and for sharing the temporary results. Do you have the final ones? If so, I hope you consider adding a link to them here.

There are different strategies researched in psychology about how to persuade people to come around to your position. It actually started out with marketing, but can be applied to any campaign aimed to get the public to subscribe to a specific position. One of them is the "foot in the door" strategy, a term that comes from those salespeople who show up on your doorstep, trying to sell you stuff you weren't even looking to buy. Their first challenge is how to keep you from slamming the door in their faces. If they right away offer you to buy something big and expensive, which you don't even need, you're likely to do exactly what they don't want. But if they get you to agree to something small, then they "got their foot in the door," you won't slam it in their faces 'coz you agreed to something small, and now they have you engaged. And the more engaged you are, the more invested you become. If you've already said yes to the small thing, you're now invested, and they can start talking you into why, if you're gonna buy this thing anyway, a bigger and more expensive version makes more sense.

The way it is defined here: "The foot-in-the-door technique (or FITD) is a strategy used to persuade people to agree to a particular action, based on the idea that if a respondent will comply with a small initial request then they will be more likely to agree to a later, more significant, request, which they would not have agreed to had they been asked it outright."

That's what the anti-Israel movement basically did. They started out with a smaller, more reasonable request, for people to care about the "Palestinian problem" (which means they were getting more and more people invested in it), and agree to a Palestinian state alongside a Jewish one. That wouldn't be as hard for people to agree to, especially since Jews themselves had agreed to that notion back in 1947, when they accepted the UN partition plan. Then, once people are invested in caring about the Palestinian problem, the discourse switched to how Israel has no right to exist as a Jewish state, and the only solution is to destroy it. Now all of a sudden, if you really care about Palestinians, then it's not enough to support a two state solution, you have to be against Israel, you have to be against Zionists, you have to be against the Jewish right to self-determination, anything less than that, and you are failing the Palestinians (who by now are depicted as the world's greatest victim, even though there is plenty of comparison data to refute that notion). And you do care about the Palestinians, right? So you gotta be against the Jews. Sorry, Zionists.

Also, I would love to hear what chunk of the land @ardwolff lives on they gave away to native people, while they're so willing to distort the history of Israel and erase the native rights of Jews here, making us the only native nation to have returned to its ancestral land, only to discover the world wants to displace it again. First it was done by the Romans 2,000 years ago through colonialism, now it's "in the name of" anti-colonialism (as its been packaged by your friendly FITD seller), but by punishing a native population, it's playing right into the hands of colonialists still...

I hope you're doing well! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[adventuringblind]

Drive With You Forever

Chapter Fourteen: The Rise and the Fall

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Chapter summary: Charles has a theory, Lando and Oscar get a better car, they group takes a trip to America to learn more about our reader

Warnings: Ferrari strategists, blood, mentions of death, gore, mentions of past abuse and neglect, medical abuse and malpractice, no graphic descriptions but r*ape is alluded too, panic attacks, mentions of sickness, cults, witchcraft is mentioned along with burnings

Notes: This one was hard. It gets really dark so please read the warnings.

Also, thank you for all the support for my writing! I'm terrible at responding to comments, but I want you to know that I see them and I appreciate every single one of you!

Previous <-

Masterlist

It’s always weird when things go back to normal. It feels temporary. Like she’ll never be able to rest easy because something else is going to happen.

Even when they’re here, relaxing after a race.

Things had been so crazy lately that none of them wanted to join in on the after party. Instead, they all lay comfortably with each other.

"So I have a theory." States Charles. His body splayed out at the foot of the bed. Next to him is Oscar. Max is laying the correct direction woth his legs over the top of the other two. Then Lando and Y/N are leaning against the bed, curled into each other on the floor.

"That's dangerous." Snickers Max. He receives a scowl from the Monegasque.

"What's your theory, Charlie?" Pipes the girl on the floor. It's never mattered the idea or thought. She always wants to hear it.

"At least one person wants to hear it." He grumbles. "Anyway, y/n has four entirely different abilities, and now she has four partners. Do you think it was meant to be?"

"It is an odd coincidence." States Oscar. He looks up from his phone and considers the statement.

"We could see if there's more to it than you know." Lando says into her hair.

It's not something she would've considered a year ago. But now, with everything she's survived, maybe it would be worth a look around. Show her boys where she used to live.

It's not pretty by any means, but it is a part of her.

~

Before they could take a trip to her home, they had to get through Silverstone. Lando is excited the car upgrades are doing their job and Oscar is absolutely petrified.

It doesn’t show on the camera or when he’s in the car, but when they catch him before the race after qualifying third, he looks terrified.

Charles and Max were upset they couldn’t get to him, ,raving it to the other two to make sure he’s properly encouraged before the race starts.

She standing in front of him holding his face with her hands. It could almost be intimidating if she wasn’t complimenting every fiber of his existence. She does it to all of them on bad days and it never fails to make them smile.

“Os, you are an amazing driver. There isn’t anything that can change that. Now you just have a car to prove that you’ve always been good.”

She kisses his forehead before he’s called to get into his car. Lando makes sure to also give him a pep talk before his engineers have to drag him away.

She bolts back to the Redbull garage. She has her own job to do. Even though she spends majority of her time watching the race in the screen, she dies still analyze data.

It proves difficult, however, when three of her lovers are in the top three places. She had to bite her tongue to hold in her excitement.

Then the unlucky safety car. She knew Oscar would be disappointed, but he's still in fourth.

Max crosses first, followed by Lando. The two are absolutely ecstatic. She can see the mild disappointment when Oscar isn't in the third spot.

Charles is definitely upset with how his race went. He'll need cheering up as well. Finishing ninth and having his strategy messed over again was not something he'd wanted this weekend.

She runs off to find Charles and Oscar first. They're waiting just outside the weigh station and she can see the both with sollum looks.

"I don't care what anyone says. You two were amazing despite the difficulties."

Charles just hugs her. He's tired and words are hard. Her embrace is relaxing and all he needs right now.

When the two are consoled for the moment, she knows she has to let them go. Their media duties are still part of the job even if they hate them.

She gets to leave with Charles first. Oscar and Lando are still finishing up media duties, and Max is doing his best to avoid them but failing.

Charles crashes as soon as he's in the room. Face planting on the bed and screaming into the pillows.

She sits next to him and plays with his hair. "I wish I could just be happy for Max and Lando- even Oscar!"

"It's okay to be upset, Sharl. Feelings have a way of escaping like that." She whispers to him gently. She ponders for a moment. "Maybe a cheat meal is in order."

Charles lifts his gaze from the bed to her and smiles. "I think you're a genius."

~

The other three come back much later than expected. The three of them are far too exhausted to do anything else but sleep.

Max opens the door for the three of them and is met with the lovely smell of food. He didn't realize how hungry he was until now.

The two who'd left earlier are sprawled out with a blanket on the floor. They'd found that tables in hotels never have enough chairs. The floor has become their table in these scenarios.

"Welcome back! We got dinner!"

The stresses of the day, the highs and the lows, fade into the back of everyone's minds. Their company enough for each other.

~

They'd left for America the next morning. She'd begged Sébastien to come with them, and he'd accepted. Though he was meeting them there.

None of them had seen her home before. The boys made sure she knew she could back out at any time. But it's almost as if she needs this. To finally close the lid on the box.

Sure, there may he a group of people after her now, but her father can't touch her. She has the freedom to go searching for her own answers.

Seb landed before them, so he was waiting for them when they landed. She jogged to hreet him and threw herself into his arms.

Seb had barely talked to Oscar in the past, and now they've had some video calls as a group, but nothing major. So, he settles for a hand shake and a warm greeting. "These four treating you well?"

"Always room for improvement." Oscar laughs as the other four feign hurt and shock.

"I think we're going to get along fantastic."

The ride from the airport to the property is ridiculous. A handful of back roads and small towns make for fun stops, but it's still long.

She'd had to message Guenther about the address. She'd never needed to learn it, so she never had. She only knew property lines.

Finally, they're turning down a familiar overgrown dirt driveway. Everyone can see her body tense up.

"Are you okay? Should we stop here?" Asks the Brit. He's trying not to let his worry for her show, but his voice fails him.

"No, I'm fine. It's still about a mile from this point."

The land is overgrown and eery. It's not long til they can see the warehouse in the distance. It was larger than they'd imagined. Lando had pictured something like a shed and Oscar just ran with that idea. Charles thought maybe a prison or one of those abandoned hospitals. Max didn’t care, he just knew whatever it was couldn’t be good.

The building itself looked menacing. The sides are covered with vines and there were random bits of debris scattered around the property. It looks both unsafe and unsanitary.

Seb stops the car a few arid away from the entrance. Everyone getting out of the SUV, except for her. Charles comes around the side and opens her door. “Mon amour, we don’t have to go any further.”

“I want too, just need a minute.” She sighs. Charles can see the glaringly obvious unease in her eyes. He laces her fingers with his and lets her take her time getting out of the vehicle. He refuses to let go even after she’s out.

They walk hand in hand to the metal door that everyone assumes is the entrance. Max has set himself in front of everyone, nothing unusual, but he kept Lando and Oscar behind him instead of letting them walk with him. The gloomy feeling of the building not helping protective nature.

Max attempts to get the door open. His attempt being foiled by things in the way. She watches on as the five males struggle to get it open.

“What the hell is behind this thing?” Asks a heaving Lando.

“Shelves I reckon.” Guesses the Aussie.

then the door busts open and then tumble down to the floor in a heap. “It was locked actually.” Smirks the female. “took me a minutes to get it open.”

Charles groans and shoves himself out from underneath the pile. “We loosened it for you.”

~

The building is just as eery inside as out. The group stick close to eachother as they explore about.

The female leads them to where the braker box is. All of them practically keel over when she gets on the lights.

The sight they are met with is terrifying. Almost as if they walked into some sort of horror movie.

There are bodies tagged and lined up, which explains the rotting smell. Machinery litters the ground. Bigger machines that none of them know the purpose of are in their own sections of the warehouse.

"It's not what you were expecting..." She fidgets with her fingers.

"I don't think it's about what we were expecting. I think that all of us hate that you had to live like this." Oscar explains carefully. Charles had yet to let go of her, and Oscar now sits himself on her other side.

Lando peeks his head around another set of shelves. "It almost looks like he was part of a cult." He scrunchs his nose in disgust.

"I wouldn't be shocked if he was." She points to a set of stairs. "My room and his office are up that way."

The group trek up the stairs and are met with a set of office style rooms. She leads the all the way down the hall to the furthest door on the right. She pushes open the door and inside is her room, exactly how she’d left it. The screen is even still missing from when she took it out. “This is my room.”

Her partners and adopted father file into the room. It’s not a large room and there is not much to look at. A mattress on the floor and some old books is as exciting as it gets.

They are all rendered speechless and she doesn’t know what to do. So she takes them to the next room. The door across the hall is filled with machinery. What they used to help with the F1 cars. The bigger machines are scattered about, but this room help some of the smaller testing components. “I spent a lot of time in here.” She smiles at them to hopefully lighten the mood.

She steps out again and points at the door beside it. “That one is where he used to hold the corpses. Since the Haas team was here often enough he didn’t want them to be seen.” Then she sighs again and starts back down the hall. “The rest is really for storage. My father spent majority of his time in the lower levels.”

“We can stop now if you need. Or take a break and get some air.” Suggests Seb. His fatherly instincts tell him this may be to much for her right now.

She shakes her head no. “I’ve just always hated the basement. It’s where he keeps all the important things.”

Max eyes her skeptically. “Important things?”

“Like food and my mothers corpse. The only way I could get food is to try and bring her back.” She shrugs. She can hear Max suppressing an angry growl.

They make their way to the stairs on the opposite end of the building. The lighting down below considerably darker then the upper floors.

The basement room looks as if it’s been carved out. Like it wasn’t here originally. At the center lies a beautifully adorned casket. She gestures to it. “This is my mom. I’ll spare you the disgust and not open that.”

The other side of the room houses a desk with books and a laptop. She’d forgotten he had that. She’d gotten caught on numerous occasions trying to use it. She eyes the laptop and then slips it into her bag. Something Seb had made her bring just incase she did find anything she wanted to take with her.

The laptop is newer then she remembers. Something like what she used for work.

The vials that he’d been injecting her with to supposedly rewrite her DNA are still sitting on a metal table, along with other medical tools.

She steps over to it. The bed he used to operate wasn’t a a traditional one. It was another casket sent on top of a table. He’d used it to remind her of why he was doing it, what her mother had felt, where she lays now permanently.

She can feel the walls closing in as she opens it. The woods inside still stained red. Memories of the times he’d cut her open just to sew her back up.

The vague sensation of teeth and hands on her skin fills her senses as the ground falls out from under her.

~

Max is the first to hear her breathing quicken. He’s standing almost next to her, observing, taking in every piece of information. Charles had gone with Seb and Oscar to explore a different offshoot. Seb had noticed weird writing on the wall and wanted to investigate.

They were right down the hall so Max wasn’t to worried about them. His attention now completely on the female.

She shrieks. Her body goes rigid. Then she’s falling the the ground.

Max catches her and Lando slides down next to them. Both look between her and each other. A dull pulsing light emitting from her skin but her hands and trailing all the way to her chest.

The other three come back into the room and frantically look around. “What happened.”

“She was looking at something, froze, then fell over.”

Lando can’t even get words off his tongue. Max can see him struggling and knows he needs to get everyone out of the building. “Seb can you help get Lan out of here?” Seb nods and drags the Brit back up the stairs. He would’ve sent Oscar with him since his demeanor seemed to calm the other, but ever since the bunker incident, Oscar was more panicked when away from her.

Charles and Max haul her up the stairs and out of the building while Oscar guides and moves things out of the way. He also took her bag so they didn’t have to deal with it swinging back and forth.

Finally they are able to drape her body across the middle seat of the SUV. The glow now diminishing but the girl’s condition seemingly getting worse. The blood, sweat, and tears they are used to seeing are being intensified.

Seb manages to get Lando to breathe then the five are able to discuss.

“I think her father may have been a cult leader.” Confesses Seb. The Germans eyes are sad and distraught but he’s doing his best to remain calm.

Oscar is sitting with the females head in his lap. He’s almost defensively holding her body, something they all noticed he started doing after they were rescued. “We found a book about her mom. Looks like the same handwriting in all the notes.”

“The scariest part is that she endured the same things.” Charles runs his palms over his bare skin, a nervous tick that Max tried to keep him from doing because he rubbed his skin raw. “She could do similar things to her, it seems. Whatever happened after is hard to piece together. She wasn’t meant to get pregnant, I don’t think, at least not when she did.”

“She served as some sort of alter. They did things that ar unspeakable.”

Max stands behind Charles and holds his hands to hopefully ease the need to turn his skin red. “Do you think the cult is who’s after her now? If they need her to complete whatever rituals they’re doing, it would make sense they’d want her back.”

“I think that she is more to them then any of us could’ve guessed.”

~

The ride back to the airport was long and contemplative. They decided not to go back to Monaco for now and instead head with Seb to Germany. The female still had yet to wake up and Lando is becoming increasingly more aware war of every time she inhales.

He sits in the back seat with Charles, leaning into the monegasque’s shoulder. “Do you think she’ll be ok?” He asks.

“Pretty sure nothing can get her at this point. Plus, she’s already looking better.” Charles reassures him. Yet the sinking feeling in his gut is still there.

They have too carry her into the plane. Lando watches on as Max bundles her in his arms and carries her inside. Lando jumps on the opportunity to sit with her. He eases her body into his, grateful that she’s not burning up anymore.

They sleep most the ride home, aside from Charles who is picking through the found journals. Lando is finally able to rest his mind to the feeling of her steady heartbeat against his hand.

~

Hanna is in full mother mode as soon as her husband, daughter, and her daughters four partners step through the door.

She has them set the unconscious female in the room they keep for them should they visit. She's quick to clean her up and change her clothes into comething comfortable. She doesn't let any of the boys near her, much to their protest.

It's quiet around the house. Nobody knows what to say. Where are they supposed to go from here?

Seb pulls the laptop out of the girls bag and finds a suitable charger. He knows he'll have to pick through it eventually. He just hopes she'll be awake before then.

"What if she doesn't wake up?" Lando is the first to voice his concern. "I know she always does... but this feels different."

"Don't say such things, Lando." Charles has kept himself curled up in an empty corner of the living area. He's dealt with so much loss already that he doesn't think he could take another. He's been spiraling since she's been out of sight, and it's visible in everything he does. "My question is why they wouldn't put her father away to begin with if he's leading a cult?"

"They may not have known. It seems they've been around for some time, and since Haas was paying him for work, I don't doubt there was money involved." Seb leans futher back into his chair. Even he is panicking. Though he's trying to remain calm for the youngers sake.

Max can't take it anymore and gets up from his place on the sofa and plant himself next to Charles. He wraps the Monegasque in his arms protectively. His body doesn't relax all the way, but the tears he'd been holding back now find Max's shirt.

Oscar is pacing. He's been pacing. He hasn't stopped moving since the female left his sight, and he's on the verge of toppling over mentally.

He's been mumbling this to himself. Definitely not things they've heard him say before. They all look as him with worried expressions.

"Jack?" He freezes at the nickname. Then he finds a place next to Lando who'd called for him.

The look in his eyes is one they've grown used to. He's thinking through a problem. Looking for every tiny detail. "They were talking about things in front of me while I was drugged." He declares.

Now it's everyone else's turn to freeze. They hadn't pushed Oscar to talk about things. He'd been doing that with his therapist. They'd almost that forced on him after he couldn't get past the separation anxiety. Thankfully, he had complied and was doing better mentally when he wasn't with one of them.

Now, to hear him openly state such a thing is both promising and terrifying.

They continue to just listen and let him work at his own pace. Lando plays with his fingers to remind him he's here with them and safe.

"There were complications with the birth. They knew her mother was getting older, so they would need a replacement, but she ended up in labor early so they couldn't finish."

"The journal also gives detailed instructions about what the process was that created them." Charles adds into the conversation. Pieces are starting to click together now. "It's dated back from forever ago as well. Something about starting from a line of witches, supposedly."

"But why do they need her specifically?" Max leans in closer to Charles. The unease and addiment need to keep his lovers safe is doing nothing for his own anxiety.

Seb leans forward now. He's pondering what he found as well, trying to link every bit of information. "Because she's the last of the bloodline." Seb only gets stares in return.

"Explain, please." Despite all of them being confused, Lando is the only one brave enought to voice it.

"Well, since I've picked her up when she was fifteen, it's always been men that she's talked about. There were never any females in the picture, I believe. So she might be the last of her bloodline."

"The journals sort of prove that as well. The history of it is muddled and doesn't make sense, but there is a story written about a lone female survivor during a burning. Some of the men who had already fancied her decided to use her in whatever ways they deemed neccecary, but she only ever bore one child." Charles recalls the story but cringes while doing so. He was sparing them the most gruesome details. "I think they took is as a sign and continued the tradition."

"Then why would he make it so she can't have a child?" Again, Lando asks the questions that confuse all of them.

"Anger makes you do unfathomable things." Seb sighs.

~

It doesn’t take long for the computer to charge. Everyone sits at the dining room table as seb opens it up for the first time. All of them are shocked it’s not locked. The man obviously didn’t think it was going anywhere.

Seb looks through some files and they can see him getting paler by the second. “There are videos and pictures on here and a few emails back and forth with a couple people but that’s all.” Then he pales out completely. “Hanna, can you make sure the kids stay upstairs?” Seb turns the computer toward her for a mere second and she looks sick.

“Don’t go too far, please.” She pleads, then hurries off upstairs. It’s an agreement that he’ll stop if he can’t take it. A plea that he won't invade too much of their adoptive daughters' privacy.

“If you guys want to see this that we’ll make so all of us only do this once. Otherwise we can figure it out.”

“What have you seen so far?” Questions Max. His nerves are increasing with every second and his leg is bouncing rapidly underneath the table.

Again, Seb looks like he might vomit. “I’ve already see photos of what they did. It’s not good and she’s completely exposed in most of it.”

All of them collectively swallow.

~

All of them felt sick watching the screen, listening to the screams. They moved past a majority it to the parts where a man (presumably her father) was monologuing.

He wasn’t meant to fall for her. Only meant to do what was necessary and give them a continuing line. When she died prematurely, he went into a completely psychotic state of mind.

Everything they did that involved the mother seemed bad enough. It only escalated for the female that’s currently unconscious.

then he revealed his plan.

Make her strong enough to bring back his beloved. Make sure she can’t have any children so they don’t have a choice if they want to attempt to continue in their faith of these miraculous beings.

And he caught every second of it.

Every ritual.

Every procedure.

Every time they took something from her.

They all felt sick. The rage mixed with violent sickness shaking all the males to their core.

They just want their toy back.

And they wouldn’t rest until they had her back.

~

Next ->

@styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jjsprobablywrong @jayda12 @faithm120601 @eugene-emt-roe @lpab @yaaadii @80sloverry @spongebeck3101 @eviethetheatrefreak @chanshintien @vellicora @hollie911 @pretty-little-bunny382728

[merakiui]

omg meraaa!! so a few months ago I read this concept but I can’t remember who it was by.. but I’m pretty sure it was by you

anyways, there was two versions of this concept but for the sake of the matter the one I’m talking about is the magic dildo and darling uses it for whichever twst boy they want and the boy can feel everything that’s happening to them during those moments. so now all I can think about is darling using the magic dildo for azul!!<33 but instead of a dildo imagine it was one of azul’s tentacles? and darling is trying to see how much they can take of azul in his octo form!! or or secretly using it pretending it’s azul’s cock but not realizing azul can feel everything too!

if you have any thoughts pls share!!! or if you made this concept then some more thoughts would be appreciated <3

Aaaa the magic dildo!!!! I missed chatting about it! So many thoughts for it… orz

Using the (definitely enchanted) tentacle dildo you bought from Sam’s shop in hopes of practicing for when you (hopefully) take the real thing, only unbeknownst to you Azul can feel everything… omg so good! Maybe he’s in the process of waking up and he feels something so tight and warm and wet envelop his dick and he’s left bedridden for however long you spend riding that dildo. You’re insatiable. >_< Azul has cum so many times and whatever or whoever is doing this doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. But it feels too good to complain or find some spell to counter it. He’s been so stressed and pent-up lately, so if anything you’re doing him a much-needed favor.

Or using it when he happens to out doing something. Maybe he’s in class, hunched over the desk and chewing his lip bloody to muffle his sounds. Maybe he’s in a Housewarden meeting and he’s trying so hard to keep his composure while the others argue about something; he’s not even focusing properly. Or maybe it���s breeding season and, because he’s in human form, it affects him slightly differently than how it usually affects him when he’s in his mer form. And maybe during this time feeling like someone’s velvety walls are wrapped around is dick is more comforting than anything he could’ve done with his hand or a fleshlight. It’s such a relief. He hopes this curse or blessing (or whatever it is) never ends.

Maybe there’s more to the dildo than meets the eye. Maybe, aside from connecting to the student it’s meant to represent, it leaves a cute marking/temporary tattoo on your body (maybe on your stomach/above where your womb is/would be), and it’s a little curse that leaves you so hot and bothered. And the only way to get rid of it is by getting the real thing. You can use the dildo as much as you want, but no matter how many times you cum you’ll never feel truly satisfied. You don’t even know the dildo connects to Azul, but he’s the one you think of when you’re using it and so you think he might be willing to help you. You’ve even considered signing a contract; you’re that desperate for release and relief.

Azul will eventually connect the dots if you visit him to explain the situation and request his help. He realizes rather quickly that you might have been the phantom hole he’s felt all this time. You’re even more tempting in person. Are you teasing him on purpose by coming into his VIP room with that pretty tattoo and smelling so breedable!!! >:( you’re making it impossible to focus. How is he supposed to be level-headed and responsible when you’re begging him to help you get rid of this curse? He can’t even think about using a condom when you’re insisting he has to do it raw. But then maybe it’s better this way. You’ll get to feel a real dick and it’ll be much better than any cheap silicone.

He promises to stuff you with his actual tentacles soon. You won’t even look twice at the dildo when he’s done with you. <3

[green-thots]

Life Waster - CL16 x FemDriver!Reader - Chapter One

Masterlist Next

Authors Note: This took me absolutely forever because I spent more time thinking and watching edits of Charles on TikTok than I did doing actual writing. There’s probably a lot of typos and grammar mistakes so just ignore that. Additionally, any feedback is much appreciated!

Warnings: Swearing, slight mention of death, mentions of weed, if I missed any please tell me

—

A Grammy and Rock Sound feature was always the goal, but shit happens I guess. Life was great, we were selling out stadiums and on the verge of our first world tour; then he died and everything fell apart. Formula 1 was always Dad’s dream, not mine, but I think a piece of me died along with him, and I threw myself into racing to fill the JJ-sized hole in my heart. All I was left with was a hard drive of the songs we had written over the years and a letter telling me to go kick some ass. I dove headfirst into the depths of uncertainty and somehow still made it out on top.

“Ms. L/N, we’re here.” The driver calls from the front seat, looking at me in skepticism through the rear view mirror.

I mutter in thanks as I open the car door and step out toward the doors of the front office, backpack in tow. The only directions left for me in the email were to head to the front office in the morning and someone would guide me from there. There’s a lady at the desk with black glasses perched atop her nose as she tapped away at her computer. She barely acknowledges me at first, but after a few seconds of standing there, she looks up at me.

”Oh, hello,” She says with a kind smile, “What can I help you with?”

“Uh, I’m Y/N L/N. I was told that someone would meet me at the front office.” I naw the inside of my cheek, slightly terrified at the new environment.

”Oh, yes. We’ve been expecting you,” If possible, her smile grows wider and she picks up the receiver of the phone, beginning to dial a number, “I’ll call down and let Mr. Horner know that you’ve arrived.”

We sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments, before she starts to speak into the phone. “Hi, Christian. Ms. L/N is down at the office.” She pauses while the other person on the phone speaks. “Okay, thank you, buh-bye.”

”April is on her way down to get you and give you a tour,” she says, her French accent much more prominent than it was before. “In the meantime, I’ll get you all set up.”

She digs around below her desk for a moment, before finally popping up and setting a keycard on a red lanyard with the words ‘driver’s pass’ on the desk in front of me. “This is your temporary pass, you’ll get a new one with your picture on it after media and such is done, but for now this is going to get you wherever you need to go on the property.”

“Thank you,” I say with a nod, as a tall girl in a Red Bull Racing jacket walks through the door to the right.

The lady at the desk smiles at the other girl and says, “I’m Susie and I’ll always be here for whatever you need. Trust me, those boys can be a handful.”

I force a smile at her, praying it looks genuine enough because I knew what kind of shit storm I was walking into and still signed the contract anyway, like an idiot.

The tall girl holds out her hand to me and says, “Lovely to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.” She talks fast and barely gives herself a second to breathe before continuing. “I’m April, and I’ll be your personal trainer, assistant, therapist, honestly just whatever you might need while you’re here with the Red Bull teams.”

There’s a hint of humor to her voice so I try to let out a laugh, but it’s hard when I’ve spent the last year or so wallowing in self pity.

“I know this whole experience is much different than F2 and I hate to rush you while you take it in but we do have to get started with the tour so you can meet Mr. Horner before he leaves for his debrief.” April says, grabbing her own pass off her neck, which instead says ‘staff’ and turns toward the door she came through before.

“If I would have known I was meeting important people today I would have worn something nicer than a hoodie.” I grumble to myself.

April must have heard me because she wiggles her finger at me with a smirk on her face and says, “You’re funny, I like you.”

We walk in silence out into the parking lot between the front building and the massive team building. April asks, “Do you have a car over here yet?”

”No, I haven’t really got around to that yet.” I reply, taking in the view of all the sports cars lined up that probably cost more than the house I grew up in each.

“Oh, well when you do, this is driver parking. Most guys tend to keep a car at their homes here rather than taking a cab since it’s a lot of back and forth.” She gestures to all of the cars parked in front of their respective sections. “The guard over at the side gate will buzz you in 24/7 if you just show him your pass.”

“Good to know.” I say as we walk up to the two glass doors with the Red Bull logo painted above.

The opening lounge is small, but still gives a feeling of comfort, rather than sterile like the front office. There are trophies lining the shelves on the walls and two World Champion trophies are held in a glass case front and center.

“Your home base is actually in the Alpha Tauri section next door but the team is meeting here for the sake of simplicity.” April says, throwing a smile at me over her shoulder as she turns left down the hallway.

She stops at a door labeled ‘boardroom’ and winks at me saying, “They aren’t as scary as they seem.”

Well that’s comforting.

April knocks twice and opens the door to reveal to reveal four guys seated around the table; two of which dressed head to toe in Red Bull gear as if they just stepped out of a commercial, one of which in a full suit, and the shortest one dressed as if he had just woken from a nap.

“Mr. Horner, this is Y/N.” April says, gesturing to me as I step into the room behind her. I’ve never met Christian Horner outside of a five minute phone call but I can only assume who he is as the man in the suit stands up and holds out his hand to me.

”Y/N L/N, it's so great to finally meet you in person.” Christian says, shaking my hand. “Unfortunately I do have to get going because the engineers can get quite pissy when things are behind schedule, but I suppose you know all about that from Formula 2, right?”

”Yeah, my team had quite the attitude.” I say, trying to sound funny but somehow sounding like the uptight bitches I used to race with back in F3.

“Anyways,” he says, still keeping up his diplomatic smile. “Boys, this is Y/N L/N, the new driver for Alpha Tauri. I’ll let you all introduce yourselves.”

Christian excuses himself and heads out the door, leaving me with April, who is still somewhat of a stranger, and the three men who I have only ever seen on TV.

The first guy stands up and gives me a smile that could light up even the darkest of rooms, “I’m Daniel Riccardo, I actually drive for Red Bull but we’ll probably still see a lot of each other.” He points at the guy next to him and continues. “Mr. Two Time World Champ over here is Max Verstappen, I assume you know who he drives for.”

Max nods at me and says, “Welcome to the team, Y/N.” His Dutch accent very prominent.

Finally, Daniel turns to the guy at the end of the table, “Last but certainly not least, the little firecracker over there is Yuki Tsunoda.”

Yuki rolls his eyes at the nickname and starts, “Hey, I’ll be driving on Alpha Tauri with you.”

”Firecracker as in his favorite English word is fuck and he sure knows how to use it,” April chimes in, a near permanent smile stuck to her face.

Yuki smiles and laughs quietly as Max says, “I trust April will get you all ready for media day tomorrow.”

”I was really hoping I was done with photoshoots but I guess even a change in career didn’t help with that.” I say, still not fully believing that this wasn’t a dream and I’m actually in Formula 1.

“Well, we better continue with our tour and let the boys get back to whatever work I know they are trying to avoid.” April says, eyeing Daniel with a knowing look as she opens the door to the hall.

“See y’all tomorrow,” I say, looking back at the group of guys staring at me. I then follow April out the door, a chorus of goodbyes yelled behind me.

April leads me back outside and then through the glass doors to the Alpha Tauri section. She finally stops once we reach a door that had already been labeled with my last name.

”This is your drivers room,” She says, opening the door to a plain room with a couch and a small vanity, “Feel free to decorate however you see fit.”

I can already visualize my plans for the room; some scenic pictures to hang on the walls, a few comfy blankets to throw on the couch for naps in between meetings, and maybe a cute rug to cover up the concrete floor.

April gestures to the closet next to the vanity, “Your fireproofs, suit, helmet, and any other gear you may have ordered are in the closet.”

Set on the vanity is a vase of flowers with a card tucked under the vase. I step over and pick up the card, carefully tearing open the envelope, and reading it. Inside are the words, ‘Welcome to The Grid, Y/N’ and it seems to have been signed by every driver on The Grid.

”I think they’re trying to make a good impression on the first female competitor they’ve seen in a long time; you might even be the first for the newer ones.” April says, looking over my shoulder.

“Well it takes a lot more to impress me than flowers, I mean even my freshman prom date bought me flowers.” I say, laughing at their attempt to soften me up.

”Your garage is right down the hall and it's labeled so you’ll be able to find it easily. Sadly, we can’t go in today, but you’ll get to see the car on Wednesday when you meet your engineer and we start the first round of pre-season practices.” April says, leaning up against the closet, “You’ll have to be ready to go for media in the main building with all your gear tomorrow at 1:00 but feel free to get ready here.”

”Well at least I’ll get to sleep off some of this jet lag,” I joke.

”That’s the spirit, take every moment you get to sleep, it’ll help.” April says, rubbing her hands together as she continues, “Now, we go meet the Athletic Trainer for a pee test and your first physical.”

Well I guess that means no more pot for me.

-

I flop face first down onto my bed, well if it can really be considered a bed. Right now I’m just sleeping on a mattress on the floor of my apartment. I haven’t had the time or energy to unpack so everything is just sitting around in boxes, and the furniture I did buy, has yet to be built or unboxed.

My physical lasted much longer than I had anticipated; the strength testing and medical assessments taking up much of the rest of the day. The six hour time difference is really beginning to take a toll on me and I am nearly asleep when my phone buzzes next to me.

Dad: Your mom showed up at my doorstep, screaming that you were nowhere to be found. Care to explain?

Fuck that. I’ll deal with him in the morning.

-

As I stand before the mirror, dressed in my race suit with my hair loosely curled and my makeup freshly done, I have to take slow, deep breaths to keep my heart from beating out of my chest. All eyes are going to be on me today because the first woman on The Grid in nearly ten years is sure to be a spectacle for the other drivers and staff. I should be used to having people stare at me. Hell, I spent years performing on stage in front of massive crowds. But my ‘fall from grace’ as the Rock world has dubbed it, has caused me to hate the constant stares of others. Formula 1 might not have been the best choice of career, but I need to take back the piece of my childhood that I cherished dearly.

My phone dings from its place on the vanity;

April: We’re nearly ready to start shooting, so get over here as soon as you can :)

If these guys have managed to find anything about who I was years ago, I’m sure their opinions of me are already set in stone, but I still can’t let holding up the order of business lead them to think I’m inconsiderate to everyone else’s schedule.

I speed-walk my way out of the Alpha Tauri building and over to the main building, carrying my helmet just in case I need it for a photo.

When I enter the room where the cameras were being set up, all the drivers were huddled around in little circles. The lively colors of each team’s uniform were intermixed, showing that they all must get along well. If they don’t like me, it seems that I’ll be spending the majority of the next year alone.

With the spectacular luck that life has given me, the door is extremely squeaky, causing everyone to look up at me. Immediately, Max waves me over to the group he was standing with.

Hesitantly, I walk over and the tall blonde guy in the Mercedes uniform eyes me with a smile.

”Well you look scared shitless,” He says, the slightly devious but still kind smirk present on his face.

”Don’t be a dick, George,” The French one next to him says as he elbows George in the stomach, “I’m Pierre. Don’t mind him, he’s always like that.”

”Hey, I’m not that bad,” George throws back, giving Pierre a slight shove. The other guys laugh at their antics, so I force out a little laugh.

I barely get another second to listen to their introductions before a staff member calls out, “L/N, you’re up first! Tsunoda, you’re on deck!” I send an awkward wave to the group as I walk over to where the cameras are set up.

”Alright, we’ll need you to fill out the first day of F1 board.” The staff member says, passing a chalkboard to me.

I begin to fill it out.

Name: Well that’s easy.

Season: #1

I Am From: Miami, FL

My Fave Food Is: Mac & Cheese

My Hype Song Is:…

I’m tempted to put one of my songs here, but I think I’ll make them work harder to discover that piece of me.

My Hype Song Is: Gimme Gimme Gimme - Abba

This Year I Will: Kick ass.

I stand in front of the camera as the photographer snaps a few photos of me with the board. Again, everyone in the room is staring at me.

”Hey Logan, we found you a Floridian!” George calls out in the direction of the blonde in the Williams Racing suit.

Tall blonde- who must be Logan- gives me a bright smile and calls out, “we gotta represent, girly!”

I actually let out a laugh at this as a staff member takes the board from me and sets me up for the headshots. Not knowing what the usual protocol for Formula 1 headshots is, I give the camera a light smile.

I can feel someone staring at me intently, as if they look hard enough they could see the deepest parts of my soul. When I look over to the area behind the camera where all the drivers are standing around, I immediately see Mr. Laser Eyes.

He’s partly concealed by the shadows but his dark eyes still bare into my soul. His hair is a dark and curly mess, like he’s just gotten out of bed; but damn does he make bedhead look good. He’s dressed in an almost too tight Ferrari suit. He towers over Tsunoda, but that isn’t too hard to achieve.

We hold eye contact for a few seconds; it's almost magnetic, before he shifts his eyes back to the conversation he was having with Pierre and George.

“Okay, that’s all we needed,” The photographer says, motioning me off the stool as he calls for Tsunoda.

I walk back over to Pierre, George, and the Ferrari driver who had been staring at me. Immediately, he looks me up and down with a smirk before saying, “Good choice of music, rookie.”

My face heats up, and I’m sure I look like a walking tomato. “Yeah, Momma Mia is my favorite musical.” I say quietly.

George and Pierre start snickering to themselves quietly as the Ferrari driver says, “I’m Charles Leclerc.”

Even his accent is fucking sexy.

“Y/N L/N.” I reply.

”Don’t worry, everyone knows your name already.” Charles says with a little laugh. This puts a look of fear and shock on my face.

”In two weeks time, everyone in the world is going to know your name.” George says, throwing his arm over my shoulder.

”Yeah that makes me feel a lot better, thanks Princess.” I spit back sarcastically, using the well-known nickname the media has given George in recent years. Pierre cackles hysterically, so much so that he struggles to catch his breath.

After a bit of throwing sarcastic insults back-and-forth with George, and him taking his turn for headshots, individual pictures are complete.

“Wait, we have to get a group picture of this years’ rookies!” Max calls, a devious smile on his face as he looks in my direction. I roll my eyes as I walk over in front of the camera and am joined by Logan and the blonde McLaren driver.

“I’m Oscar,” the McLaren driver says and he and Logan stand on either side of me. We put our arms around each other's shoulders “to show unity” as the photographer told us. The three of us gave bright smiles to the camera, trying to show that Formula 1 isn’t as scary as it seems when in reality, all of us are terrified to step out onto that track for the first time.

“Alright, lets get all of the drivers out here now.” The photographer says after snapping. Few photos of Logan, Oscar, and I. Immediately, the staff get to work on moving a bunch of prop boxes out into the studio as all the drivers flood the area. I’m directed by the photographer to sit on the tallest box, which I do have to get a running start to jump up on, and lean back on my hands with my legs crossed.

After a few moments of getting everyone else into position, the photographer finally gives us the signal to get our game faces on. Noticing that no one else is smiling at the camera, I tilt my head back a bit and glare at the camera. Although I am the highest up and the farthest back, I’m sure you will still be able to pick up my noticeable annoyance by looking at me in the photo.

“Everyone is free to go!” A lady, who I’m assuming is the head of media, yelled into the crowd of drivers. As everyone disperses, I’m speed walking to the door as to get out of there as quickly as possible, when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I whip around to see George, Pierre, Oscar, Logan, and a few other drivers I haven’t formally met yet.

George looks at me with puppy eyes as he says, “We’re going out to get drinks, do you want to come with?”

They’re all staring at me intently, waiting for my reply.

”I can’t. I actually haven’t even unpacked my stuff yet and the furniture for my apartment hasn’t been built yet so I better get on that.” I say, avoiding eye contact so I don’t have to see the disappointed looks on their faces.

”What if we help you unpack?” The British, curly-haired boy asks, before saying with a wink. “Lando Norris, at your service. Do you have booze?”

I freeze up, not expecting them to want to change their plans to hang out with me so soon after meeting them. “I mean I guess, but my fridge is completely empty, so no booze.”

”Eh, we’ll just make Max pick some up on his way,” Lando says, waving it off while George yells, “Fuck yeah, party time!” Leading the entire room to burst into laugher.

Well, this is either going to end in losing my security deposit or getting so drunk that I won’t remember what embarrassing shit I’m sure to do by tomorrow morning.

[use-your-telescope]

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 17: It's a Curse, It's a Sure Sign

Summary: Theo and Chris accidentally make their red carpet debut at the Met Gala, to a night full of surprises. 

Author's Notes: Hi everyone! 

So first, I just want to say a big thanks for sticking with this and following along. If you happen to be one of the people who follows me on tumblr, you may know that the brain gremlins were hitting real hard this week and messing with me something fierce. I’ve had a temporary reprieve, but they still suck. I’m behind on replying to things, but I appreciate y’all the same.

Anyways, the next chapter won’t go up until two weeks from now, since I’m on call and then it’s midterms… So, keep an eye out on March 10th for the next update.

Contents: Canon-typical combat. Implied conflict between a couple? 

Word Count: 6,779

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist Song: Monster - PVRIS

Where do I begin? I can't explain it Know you wasted (Twenty plus years) Like photos fading in, I see 'em changing All the faces (Waiting up all night) The Met Gala.

The motherfucking Met Gala.

If someone asked Theo a year ago if she could ever imagine herself attending, she would have laughed them out of the building — no, out of the country.

And yet, she stood on the steps to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in Alexander McQueen, paparazzi shouting her name from all sides as flash bulbs from cameras percolated her field of vision. Chris stood beside her, one hand on the small of her back as he flashed a blinding grin at the expanse of people before them.

They hadn’t planned to make the Met Gala their red carpet debut. Sure, they knew the other would be in attendance, and their management teams planned certain elements of the evening to ensure they would have time together… Once they got inside. However, one of the staff managing the procession of celebrities assumed that Theo had somehow been separated from Chris in the photo line-up, despite waiting with her fellow Avengers. Though Theo politely assured the staffer that she did not need to skip the line, the staffer only seemed more embarrassed by what they perceived as their mistake as Theo refused the offers to join Chris, until Theo relented out of pity and allowed the staffer to bring her over to where Chris posed for photographs. 

Naturally, paparazzi went wild asking for photos of the couple, and of course the oh-so-charming Chris had to accept. 

“I didn’t think we were taking photos tonight,” Chris leaned in and whispered in Theo’s ear; Theo feigned a smile, pretending to giggle at something he said so no one would catch onto the conversation. 

Chris looked back at the camera, shifting his weight to offer a fresh pose for photos.

Theo turned towards him, rising onto her tip toes so she could whisper her reply into his ear. “I know - the event staffer who brought me here thought it was a mix-up in the arrival order.” Theo lowered herself back to her feet as Chris leaned down, nodding at her to continue as he smiled for the cameras. “Despite my insistence that I didn’t need to take photos with you, she kept getting more and more embarrassed - I felt so bad that I finally said yes, just so she wouldn’t cry.” 

Straightening up, Chris turned and flashed a sweet smile to Theo that could have melted the iciest of hearts. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised - you’re always looking out for other people.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple to cheers from the crowd.

Before the conversation could continue, another staff member ushered Chris inside, while a third staff member instructed Theo to pose for solo photos. Without anyone else to make the experience less awkward, she tried to remember the tricks that the Avengers’ marketing team taught her about taking flattering photos. 

Either the time passed faster than Theo expected or the staff member in charge of moving the line took pity on her, because the next thing Theo knew she heard her teammates hollering at her, and turned to find them sauntering towards her. 

“Hey!” Theo cheered, arms wide in an enthusiastic greeting as her peers gathered around, everyone spacing themselves out and adjusting their clothes in preparation for group photos. 

“Thanks for ditching us back there,” Yelena teased with a wink, nudging Theo as she passed by. 

As Yelena spoke, Loki positioned himself to stand behind Theo. Dressed in a custom brocade suit so precisely tailored that it could have been painted onto him, there was no question that Loki would appear on the many “best dressed” lists that would be published in the coming days. He offered Theo a silent greeting in the form of a cheshire smirk and subtle nod, but that wasn’t what caught Theo’s attention.

“Your bowtie is crooked,” Theo pursed her lips, twisting away from the camera to fiddle with the piece of fabric around Loki’s neck. “How did you get this far into the photocall without noticing?"

“Darling, it’s fine,” Loki playfully swatted her hands away, all the while chuckling softly. “You need not fuss over me like a mother hen.”

Bucky snorted, watching the exchange from close by as he settled into position. 

“Watch out Buck, I’ll come fuss over you too.” Theo warned, earning a laugh out of Shuri, whose custom Wakandan attire brought a fresh interpretation to the Gala’s theme and somehow managed to be fun, trendy, and regal at the same time. 

Odds were high that Queen Ramonda had something to do with the regal part.  

Gathering the Avengers for a group photo was best compared to herding cats - getting over a dozen people to look at the same place and smile for the cameras at the same time without becoming distracted turned out to be much harder than Theo expected. After the first five minutes, the poor event staffers tasked with wrangling the Avengers gave up, allowing the Avengers to relax and chat with each other and take photos in smaller groups instead. 

There were natural groupings that photographers clamored for. The military boys - Steve, Bucky, Rhodes, and Sam - stood with heads held high and chests puffed ever-so-slightly, with hands resting at their sides as if they were about to be called to attention. If the quartet had chosen to wear their formal military attire instead of tuxedos, the United States government would have probably used the picture for military recruitment. 

Bruce, Tony, Peter, and Shuri - who for some reason had become known as ‘the science bros’ - also posed together for photographs. Unlike the soldiers, who posed with such uniformity that it was almost eerie, the varied level of comfort in front of the cameras and diverse personalities in this group created an almost humorous level of contrast. Tony and Shuri, whether because of their upbringings or infallible charisma, worked the photographers with charming jokes and quick banter, while Peter and Bruce seemed perfectly happy to laugh along and let their friends compete for the spotlight.

Other pairings were all but required: the Widows, the Asgardians, and the Wakandans took their turns in front of the cameras. Theo took photos alongside Dr. Strange, because the general public apparently loved the idea of two doctors who could both use magic, though in reality Theo had only ever talked to the man a few times. 

In between, photographers snapped pictures of the many assorted conversations, as well as snapping posed pictures of the people in said conversations. A second attempt to fix Loki’s bow tie was caught on camera, which subsequently led to a posed photo of Loki and Theo, as well as a photo of Loki and Theo with Wanda and Vision.

After holding a photogenic expression for enough time that her face hurt, Theo nearly jumped for joy when the event staff glanced at a clock, then moved as if to dismiss the Avengers; however, before they could make an announcement, a photographer shouted from the endless sea of faces: “Magic users – we need a group photo!” 

Entirely aware that even a moment of displeasure would infinitely be recorded on camera and plastered across the internet, Theo channeled her inner Chris by maintaining a forced enthusiasm, gesturing for the other three magic wielders to gather around. Sandwiched between Loki and Wanda, Theo wrapped her arms around her friends and flashed yet another smile for the infinite barrage of flashes.

Blinded by the lights, the announcement from the event staff that there was no more time for photos may as well have been a voice speaking from the heavens… A very tired, mildly exasperated voice, granted, but still, the news came as a relief.

“Finally – I’m starving!” Sam complained with a dramatic toss of his head backward, making it sound like he’d never eaten in his life. Realistically, they were 30 yards from the entrance - all they had to do was make it inside and there would be plenty of appetizers and drinks for them to nosh on as they toured the exhibition for which the Gala was meant to celebrate. 

This year, the Costume Institute’s exhibition had been titled: “The Anatomy of Fashion: Representations of the Human Body in Couture,” and the gala’s theme - “Body as Muse” - left a variety of options for how attendees could interpret the prompt. Theo, for example, wore a piece from Alexander McQueen’s  Anatomy ii collection - a one-sleeved gown made of sheer white tulle, the bodice and singular sleeve covered with intricate silver beading that depicted medical textbook-style illustrations of the female anatomy, while the skirt featured layers of gathered tulle that gave the overall piece a breezy, almost ethereal feel with every movement. 

Others took a more subtle approach: at first glance, the brocade of Loki’s suit appeared to be nothing more than a random print; however, upon closer inspection, the pattern depicted lotus imagery inspired by Georgia O’Keeffe paintings - long thought to be representations of the female anatomy, despite O’Keeffe’s denials of the connection. Regardless, flowers had a long history of affiliation with the female form; in Egyptian and Indian mythology, the lotus had very direct associations with female anatomy, so the suit still fit the theme.

Seeing red flags in the morning It's a warning, a warning (it's a sure sign) Where do I begin, I can't explain it Now you're wasted How could you let them do this to you?

From when they entered, it could have been some sort of fever dream: cocktails and passed appetizers as they toured the museum, passing through exhibitions with pauses for special entertainment in certain wings. Lush floral arrangements decorated the corridors and stairways, accented by soft uplighting that shifted tones based on the art in each respective gallery. Time passed in a blur of small talk and compliments interspersed with taking in the art around them. 

The only thing detracting from the fever dream was Chris.

He meant well. Of that, Theo was certain. 

But whenever Theo wanted to pause and really take in each piece of art, Chris wanted to find familiar faces and catch up; however, he insisted Theo accompany him. He never raised his voice or became aggressive, but the pleading tone and puppy dog eyes became more and more common as they continued through the museum.

The pleading became so incessant that Theo almost wished that their respective staff teams hadn’t planned for the pair to traverse the galleries together, relying on the dinner together to give the pair quality time together. 

Still, Theo did her best to grin and bear it, biting her tongue and smiling along when Chris ignored the multitude of masterpieces around them in favor of the hottest tiktok influencer. 

Once in a while, Theo looked around the room and caught Loki looking over at her. She almost wished he would swoop in and rescue her the way he had the first night, even if the thought made her a bad feminist. 

Luckily, it wasn’t long before everyone was ushered in for dinner, and she wasn’t alone - Loki and Wanda were both seated at the same table, while many of the Avengers weren’t far off. 

Theo told herself that she’d visit the museum  to actually view the art some other day - until then, it was time to play the role of socialite, which meant getting through this dinner.

Going on a whim trying to erase it Leaving traces (Sweat, blood, and tears dry) Your head on the pavement, know you're jaded Sick of playing (Waiting up all night)

Amidst the din of conversation and clinking silverware, the power cut out.

Breathy gasps and murmured comments rippled through the room. No one moved, wondering if the sudden darkness was meant to announce the night’s entertainment.

The only source of light in the room came from the electric candles in the centerpieces of the tables, which did little to offset the vast darkness of the massive room. 

From the corner of her eye, Theo spotted a pair of event staffers frantically running around the outskirts of the room.

“I don’t think this is intentional,” Theo warned, locking eyes with Loki and Wanda. “Something’s wrong.” 

Theo, Loki, and Wanda slowly rose to their, cradling orbs of light in hand as they searched for any clues about what was wrong.

The clang of metal against metal rang out, followed by heavy footsteps pounding against the ground at a furious pace; they stopped with a halt, interrupted by a heavy thud. 

Barely visible in the dark, Theo made out the vague silhouettes of the other Avengers standing at attention. 

Around the room, the guests remained in their seats, whispers of panic growing into a frenetic buzz as they desperately looked around for the source of what caused the disturbance while they struggled to adjust to the lack of light.

Bracing herself for the worst, Theo flicked her wrists, runes briefly flashing on each arm before her gown disappeared in a cosmic swirl, replaced by the armor Shuri crafted for her. 

A dark form slithered past, just skirting Theo’s line of sight, followed by a second.

“Shadow creatures!”

Theo barely managed to force the words out of her mouth before a gust of arctic air rushed past her, accompanied by a dark, sinewy limb that swallowed any trace of magical light. 

Chaos erupted. 

From the darkness, a barrage of shadow creatures descended upon the room. 

Guests knocked over chairs as they rushed for the exits, screaming and colliding with each other as they failed to navigate the gallery in the dark.

The creatures gave chase, tendrils of pitch black lashing out in every direction as if their sole intent was to destroy everything in sight. 

Theo made a beeline towards the exit. No stranger to mass casualty incidents, she knew that any bottlenecks would be a prime opportunity for shadow creatures to attack and maximize casualties. The best way to prevent the damage would be to monitor the exits.

She darted between people, climbing across overturned chairs and jumping from table to table when it was impossible to push through the crowd.

As she ran, Theo conjured up an entire galaxy’s worth of stars that floated overhead. With a sharp wave, they shot ahead to illuminate the path to the exit.

No longer obscured by the dark, a collection of shadow creatures situated in prime striking distance of the exit snarled, preparing to attack. 

“Doors!” She shouted, hoping any one of her teammates would know what she meant.

“On it—“ Tony, already in his Iron Man suit, zipped past overhead, hands outstretched as he fired a pair of blasts at the creatures.

The blasts landed right on target, making contact with the two creatures closest to the door. With a sharp, grating cry, they collapsed into nothing more than a pile of dust.

“We need to secure exits and evacuate civilians—“ Steve commanded, the comm in Theo’s suit making it sound like Steve was beside her. 

“We’re already on it,” Theo confirmed, using both hands to reshape the galaxy so it formed a protective tunnel around the exit. A shadow creature tried to launch itself through one side of the tunnel, only to disintegrate upon contact. 

At another exit, Wanda took a similar approach, leaving the others to guide the guests to the exit and go on the offensive. 

“There are a lot more of these things than usual,” Sam complained, whizzing around the room as he rained fire on the seemingly endless stream of creatures.

“They’re coming from deeper in the museum,” Loki observed, slicing through a beast with an enchanted daggers just before it landed a blow on Shuri. 

Theo glanced back, scanning the room to get a read on the situation. 

“We need to take them out at the source–” Natasha started, only to be interrupted by Bucky. “What the hell are those?” 

“What do you see?” Theo followed up, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she craned her neck in a futile attempt to get a look.

“They’re like shadow people, but their eyes are glowing!”

“How many?” 

“5 or 6–”

“Someone cover this exit,” Theo demanded, “I’m coming!” 

As if anticipating Theo’s response, Strange appeared beside her, silently nodding at her to go. 

Throwing white flags in the morning It's a warning, a warning (It's a sure fire) Going on a whim, try to erase it All the traces How could you let them do this to you?

Theo didn’t have to go far to find the answer to her question. Standing behind the closest horde of Shadow creatures were a group of humanoid creatures, composed of shadow except for the black clocks that hid their faces. True to Bucky’s description, the only visible feature happened to be their eyes, which glowed a sort of octarine color that Theo hadn’t seen since her time on Aneterra.

Ice shot through her veins. 

At the sight of Theo, one waved an arm; with a tendril of smoke, they called back the shadow creatures, leaving nothing but an empty hallway between the Avengers and the shadowed beings. Only the emergency lights provided any reprieve from the near-overwhelming darkness.

“Who are you?” Steve demanded, taking one step towards the beings.

They stepped back, but did not speak.

Steve took a second step forward, observing the figures for any sign that they might attack.

The same figure that dispelled the creatures extended an arm, curling a finger towards the group as a silent challenge. 

“Enough of this–” Tony flew towards the group; like a flock of startled birds, they scattered in different directions, teleporting between shadows to expedite their retreat. “Split up and track them down!” Steve didn’t even finish the command before Theo herself turned to shadow and gave chase.

Up the main staircase, around the corner, sprinting through room after room and occasionally using the shadows as a shortcut, Theo and the shadow being played a game of cat and mouse: the figure remained just far enough that Theo could catch a glimpse and not lose track, but the moment Theo drew near they pulled some sort of maneuver to distance themselves and keep the game going.

Somewhere in the modern art gallery, Theo took a corner too quickly and stumbled, dropping to her hands and knees with a grunt. The brief slip-up was all it took for her to lose sight of the figure.

“Fuck!” Without anyone around, Theo’s curse echoed through the empty gallery. She sat back on her knees, struggling to catch her breath as she wracked her mind for what to do.

After drawing a blank, Theo brought one hand to her ear, pressing on her comm. “Guys, I lost–”

“Ah, the Silver Shadow…” A deep voice interrupted; Theo whipped around, eyes skittering about the gallery as she failed to place the sound. 

“... I’ve heard much about you.”

Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse, it's a sure sign Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse, it's a sure sign Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse, it's a sure sign Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse... How could you let them do this to you?

Unable to see the owner of the voice, the faintest gust of cold air and a sharp movement from the edge of Theo’s peripheral vision was the only warning Theo received before a blur of darkness careened towards her in some sort of an attack. 

She rolled to the side, barely escaping as what looked like some sort of blade slammed into the ground. Theo teleported backwards, rising to her feet and conjuring her blade. “I’m sorry, who are you?” 

Before Theo stood the figure that she assumed she had lost. With a curl of their fingers, they transformed before Theo’s eyes into a person. The cloak remained, obscuring everything except for the same eyes that glowed with octarine light. In one hand they held a shadow blade not dissimilar to Theo’s. 

The mystery person stepped towards Theo, but did not answer Theo’s question. Instead, The shrill cry of security alarms filled the air, a sharp contrast to the eerily empty room they stood in.

“Who are you?” Theo repeated the question as she stepped back and scanned her surroundings. 

“I’m… a fan, shall we say…” The figure drawled, holding out their hands in a sort of shrug. Beneath the hood, Theo imagined they offered some sort of impish grin.  “... Or not. It doesn’t matter.”

“Ah, weaponizing my pride. Well played,” Theo dryly replied, preparing an orb of magic in her free hand as she circled her opponent. “Do you have a name?”

“Not that you need to know.”  In turn, the figure spun their blade in their hand, and braced for attack.

“Tall, dark, and spooky it is, then.” Theo taunted, pointing the tip of her blade at her opponent. “Okay, let’s get the whole Shakespearean monologue about my inevitable doom over with, shall we?”

Her enemy laughed. “If you’d like to rush your death, be my guest!” 

The figure charged forward, blade held high as they launched an attack. 

Theo leapt back, parrying the blow before landing a hit on the mystery figure’s side. “You must either be very brave or very stupid to face me alone.”

The figure hardly faltered, absorbing the blow as if it were nothing. 

This wasn’t a normal person.

As the figure stumbled, they raised a hand and shot a ray of black electricity forward, hitting Theo. 

She froze, muscles tense as searing bolts of electricity tore through her body; as quickly as it started, it stopped, and Theo crumpled to the floor.

“You’re a spellcaster–” Theo choked out, pain ricocheting through her limbs as she pressed herself to her hands and knees. “... Should have seen that coming.” 

“That’s far from our only similarity,” The figure observed, tilting its head to the side as it waited for Theo’s next move. “For someone who is a sciondéité, you certainly aren’t the challenge I expected.” 

They knew.

It wasn’t the first time someone tried to use her identity against her and get into her head, but it certainly had been long enough that the comment caught her off guard, particularly with the circumstances. However, the other person failed to account for one important detail: Theo loved nothing more than proving people wrong.

Pulling herself back to her feet, Theo took advantage of the pause to conjure a collection of stars above her head. 

Theo charged forward and resumed the duel, firing the first of the stars at the figure as she took a swing.

They avoided Theo’s blade, but cried out as the star slashed their skin, drops of blood glistening against the stone floor. 

With a snarl, they brought their blade around in a dramatic swing, only to be blocked by Theo; they parried Theo’s next hit, then slashed Theo’s other shoulder.

“Rude - this is a new suit!” Theo hissed as white hot pain rushed through her arm. She lunged forward and continued to attack her opponent, landing one hit before spinning behind them and slicing into their other arm. 

The figure staggered back, only pausing for a moment before they charged back into the fight.

This time, Theo blocked both the distraction strike and the actual hit.

Her opponent hadn’t even finished their swing before Theo sent another pair of stars at the figure, both of which sliced the figures’ legs.

With her foe distracted by trying to catch their balance, Theo shot an arm out and snatched their arm. She clenched her jaw as a series of runes slithered off of her hand, weaving together into an intricate pattern of black and white that surrounded her opponent. 

“This has been a delightful little game,” Theo drawled, “but I have better shit to do than stroke your fragile ego.”

Theo tightened her grip. Beneath her touch, the figure’s arm shriveled; if it weren’t for the being’s sleeve, Theo would have felt the flesh turn necrotic beneath her touch, watching in the dim light as it turned black and rotted away, while the wound on Theo’s arm stitched itself back shut. 

The energy stolen from Theo’s opponent would not be enough to heal her by any means, but enough to ensure she could make the most of the situation. The logical part of Theo’s mind insisted that she ought to just kill this person outright, but the comment about Theo’s identity unleashed a special kind of monster within, and she wanted answers. 

“You’re debating whether to kill me--” The figure taunted, wrenching itself free from Theo’s grasp before launching into a series of swings and parries. Each fighter took as many hits as they blocked. “You want to know who I am though, so it’s stopping you.” 

“Aren’t you clever,” Theo wryly observed, flipping back over the last swing as she cast a magical restraint around the person’s feet. As she landed, she dropped into a crouch and swept her leg around, knocking them off balance. 

Before her opponent could hit the ground, they teleported. 

“The shadow creatures were the warm-up act, but you were the real show - at least, that’s what you’d like to think–” Theo whipped around just in time to catch a glimpse of the figure swinging down, striking her collarbone. 

Theo barely hit the ground before a foot came crashing into her side, knocking the air out of her. “I doubt you’ll live long enough to see the grand finale.”

From where she laid on the ground, an unsettling heat radiated through her body. Though unpleasant, Theo recognized the sensation - an enchanted blow, a move Theo used quite often. If she moved before breaking the spell, she’d be in a world of hurt. 

With a flick of her wrist, Theo silently removed the enchantment. The moment the heat dissipated, she staggered to her feet, rolling her shoulders as she faced her opponent. 

“A grand finale?” Theo inquired, tilting her neck side to side as she stretched the muscles. “Do tell…”

The figure simply curled their finger at her, an invitation to attack. 

Barreling forward, Theo landed a slice into their side as they managed to land a punch on her face. 

Both parties stumbled backwards, panting heavily as they glared at each other. A metallic, tangy taste flooded Theo’s mouth. 

“Who are you?” Theo pressed another time, this time far sharper than before.

“Apparently more of a threat than you thought,” they sneered, smirking despite the blood dripping from their body and their haggard posture.

“I’m done playing,” Theo warned. She turned her head to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood, then brought her attention back to the figure and stepped closer. “This can go one of two ways - you tell me who you are and who sent you, and I’ll make your death short and painless. Or, you say nothing, and I will make you endure pain like you’ve never felt, drawn out until your dying breath.”

“I would die a martyr,” they replied, mimicking Theo’s motions; despite their words, the faintest trace of fear lurked in their eyes.

Theo dispelled her blade. With a sharp breath, Theo cupped her hands, the runes on her arms transforming into miniature constellations that she cradled in each hand. “If that’s your decision, I’m going to ensure your life is put to far better use than whatever you think you’re dying for.”

Two clusters of tendrils shot out from Theo’s hands. The first launched wrapped around the figure, overpowering her opponent and pulling them close, while the second dispersed itself into the environment around her, creating a protective barrier. 

“Here’s the thing--” Venom dripped from Theo’s words as the figure struggled to free itself from her grip. “Your buddies have been killing innocent people, and not only did you ruin my date, you’re interrupting my time to heal people that were caught in the crossfire.” 

The enemy fought harder, howling with pain as they were crushed by the tendrils; Theo simply tightened the tendrils around them. A devilish smile curled over Theo’s lips as she felt the life drain from her enemy. 

“I warned you that fighting me was foolish, and you ignored me,” Theo hissed, pulling the figure close enough to spit a second mouthful of blood at them. “However, if you really know me, you know what I’m capable of - and charging in here, pissing me off, and hurting people I care about - that was perhaps one of the most idiotic things you could possibly do. I can, and will, make you suffer. And whoever sent you, I will find them, and I will make them pay.”

The shrieks grew louder as more life drained from the figure. As they writhed in the air, Theo directed the stars she previously conjured to swarm around her enemy, slicing into their limbs just deep enough to be violently uncomfortable without being lethal. 

Frankly, Theo wasn’t interested in damage - they would die soon enough. 

No, she wanted whoever this was to suffer. 

Wrapping the tendril of magic around the figure’s face, Theo muffled their screams. A sick sort of joy filled Theo as she watched her attacker lose the vigor they’d previously fought with, to the point where they could barely move. 

“I thank you for your cooperation.” With one final push, Theo drained the last of the life from the figure. 

Even after the figure’s eyes rolled back and they ceased moving, Theo waited a moment before dropping the spell.

The moment the tendrils recoiled into Theo’s hands, she felt the consequences of her recklessness. Her head throbbed in time with her pulse, while her stomach churned in the sort of way where she knew that if she even looked at food, she would be sick. 

Theo hunched over, bracing her hands on her knees and forcing herself to take in a deep breath. Realistically, her head probably hurt from being punched, but the voice of reason in Theo’s mind pointed out that the area where she had been punched wasn’t what hurt so damn bad. 

With a shaking hand, Theo reached up to activate her comms and check in with the others, only to find it had fallen out at some point. No matter - they’d come looking for her eventually.

While she waited, she figured it was worth learning a bit more about who exactly came after her. 

Theo cautiously approached the body of the mysterious figure.

The crumpled heap of a corpse laid face-down, cloak spread wide as if covering the carnage beneath. In a moment of thoughtlessness, Theo kicked the lump to try to roll it over, only to hiss at the pain from her foot against the surprisingly dense body. 

Regrouping her efforts, Theo carefully pressed the bottom of her foot against what felt like a shoulder, then pushed until it flopped onto its back. The hood of the cloak fell back. Spider-like black veins marred its sickly complexion, to the extent that Theo could have spotted every capillary. She combed over the rest of the corpse, not entirely expecting to find anything; yet, one look at their hands stopped Theo cold in her tracks.

Their hands contained a series of intricate tattoos of runes, rings, and lines. Theo didn’t recognize this pattern specifically, but there was enough overlap with the designs that she did know for her to have a pretty strong idea how they might be connected. 

A chill shot down her spine, invisible vise tightening around her chest as the throbbing in her head intensified..

…”Theo? Theo, are you here?!”

Multiple voices calling for Theo, paired with thundering feet against stone floors, pulled Theo back to the present.

“I’m in here!” Theo called over her shoulder, her voice cracking on the word ‘here. Theo shook her head and blinked a couple times to try and clear her head; she may have been new to the Avengers, but she knew they’d have questions when they finally arrived.

A buzzing sound filled the air; moments later, the lights flickered, staying on. Unfortunately, Theo barely had a moment to take in her attacker beneath the lights before the sound of footsteps and voices suddenly came to a halt. 

“..Holy shit.”

When Theo turned towards the voice, she found Tony, Steve, Natasha, Bucky, and Loki all staring at her, her wide-eyed and slack jawed as they took in the aftermath of the fight.

As Theo stared back, nothing but the sound of alarms and heavy breathing filled the room. Theo’s heart pounded in her ears, but she knew better than to think anyone else could hear that.

“Hey, quick question,” Tony finally broke the silence, attention flitting between Theo and the rest of the gallery. “What the fuck happened here?”

Feeling something warm dripping down her face, Theo reached up and wiped her nose; she  pulled her hand away to find a smudge of something dark came with it. She hadn’t been hit in the nose - another sign she had overexerted herself. 

“Someone tried to kill me, obviously.” Theo dryly answered, rolling her eyes. “Are you all okay?”

Natasha nodded dumbly, eyes wide as she took in sight of Theo.

“Why do you look like shit?” Bucky blurted out, narrowing his eyes at Theo. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Theo muttered, pinching her nose in an attempt to stop some of the bleeding. Every word may as well have been a pickaxe against her skull; it took every ounce of Theo’s composure not to let her misery show. When she received nothing more than arched brows, wide eyes, and silence from the rest of the team, Theo spoke up once more. “What, is there something on my face?” 

The question was meant to be sarcastic, knowing full-well that she had a bloody nose and a gash on her collarbone, among other things, but also break the awkward silence. 

“Yeah, blood.” Bucky shot back, mimicking Theo’s sarcasm. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Theo couldn’t help the smirk that came up from Bucky’s retort, though she winced as her head throbbed. Behind him, she caught sight of a familiar painting that had been slashed in the fighting…

There were many things Theo could tolerate, but destroying art was not one of them. 

“Well I’m going to fix that painting quickly before we go.” Theo briskly stepped past the others, blatantly ignoring the way they all stared at her as though she had a third head. 

Ignoring the stares was easier said than done, given how exposed she felt and the sinking feeling from seeing the hand tattoos, but stubborn pride meant she wasn’t about to let her guard down.

“You’re going to ignore what happened here?” Steve gestured to the room, openly flabbergasted by Theo’s statement.

Theo back, turned, scanning the surroundings. Amidst the knocked over podiums, streaks and splatters of deep red already started to turn brown all around the room; between the darkness and the focus on her opponent, Theo hadn’t even realized the mess she made. If she was entirely honest, she wasn’t even sure how much was hers and how much was the other person’s blood. 

Either way, she wasn’t keen to have the conversation that she suspected Steve wanted to have - this person clearly came after Theo. It’s not her fault things had to get bloody.

Waving one hand, a mist of white settled over the room, cleaning up the mess and sending a particularly vicious throb of pain through Theo’s head.

Theo turned back to Steve, pausing to give him the most sardonic expression she could manage as she replied: “Talking about this is a tomorrow problem. I have bigger priorities.” 

Steve didn’t say anything else, allowing Theo to pass by unchecked. 

Once Theo stood close enough to touch the painting in question, she held up one hand, a thin wisp of white emerging from her palm as she began to reconnect the canvas where it was sliced.

Loki cautiously sidled up to Theo, moving in a way that reminded Theo of how someone might approach an aggressive dog. In contrast, the way he studied Theo instead of the painting felt far too intentional for anyone’s good. 

“You need medical attention.” Loki made the comment with a brusque sort of detachment that Theo almost appreciated, were it not for the fact that he continued to dissect her beneath his gaze.

“I’m fine.” Theo huffed, refusing to look at Loki.

“Should I be concerned that you are more focused on repairing a painting than caring for yourself?” 

“I’ll be fine - nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Theo retorted, trying to ignore the pain coursing through her head. “The painting, however,  can’t repair itself.” 

From the corner of Theo’s eye, Loki scowled; he shifted his weight between both legs as he ran one hand through his hair. “You couldn’t do both?”

“No.” Theo simply answered, not even looking away from the painting. She wasn’t about to get into the fact she already overexerted herself and was still overexerting herself to fix a painting - that would certainly piss him off.

“Given your response to Rogers, I’m assuming you’d rather not discuss what led to your current state?” 

“Wow, you are just full of astute observations.” Theo shot a withering glare his way before returning her focus to the painting. 

The longer he distracted her, the longer it would take to finish fixing the art, and the longer it would take before she could go home and try to forget about what happened, so she needed Loki to at least shut up for a minute. 

Loki was no fool - though he stayed firmly by her side, he didn’t say another word until Theo finished repairing the painting.

“The painting - it reminds me of the art in your quarters…” Unlike his previous statement, this time Loki took a much softer tone, observational and almost amiable.

Something soft twisted in Theo’s chest.

“It's Van Gogh…” Theo looked up at the painting - Portrait of Joseph Roulin - and smiled.  “Nice to see one in the flesh.” 

“You mentioned him previously–” Loki commented, glancing at Theo with an arched brow. “– A favorite, if I remember correctly.”

Theo couldn’t completely bite back the smile that came from realizing Loki made a point to remember her favorite artist. “Yeah, he’s my favorite.”

“What draws you to his work?” 

“He’s one of the defining artists of post-impressionism. He reimagined the way we see and use color; how we look at light and dark.” Theo moved closer, examining the spot she repaired. “Using blues and pinks in a beard to convey highlights and depth like this? Not a thing before. And yet, it still conveys the image without disrupting the brain’s ability to process what it is.” 

Loki hummed, narrowing his eyes as he inspected the area of the painting Theo had pointed to while mulling over the answer.

“I wish we had more time to actually look at the art tonight...” Theo stepped back from the painting, letting out a sigh as she glanced over her shoulder at the others. “Then again, I wish the night hadn’t been completely derailed by fucking shadow creatures. But that’s just how it goes when you’re an Avenger, I guess.”

“Maybe one of these days we’ll have to return, simply for our own enjoyment.” Loki mused, offering a hesitant smile to the sorceress. 

“Sounds fun.” She nodded, giving him a tired smile in return. As much as she liked the idea of a trip to the museum, she knew she needed to check in on the emergency response and make sure anyone who was injured received proper medical attention. That wasn’t even considering how she should probably find Chris and make sure he was alright. But at the end of the day, all she really wanted to do was go home, shower, take some aleve, sleep, and try to forget what she just saw. 

Or, if nothing else, brace herself for what was to come.

How could you let them turn you into a monster? Your bridge started to burn when you ran all across it I guess you never learn 'til you live and you lost it Live and you lost it How could you let them turn you into a monster? Your bridge started to burn when you ran all across it I guess you never learn 'til you live and you lost it Live and you lost it

[prototypelq]

DMC random thoughts and headcanons in no particular order:

(incest shippers - I will Real Impact you on sight, Go Away; DMC is exclusively a gen (except Nero/Kyrie) family drama to me)

- I kind of wish there had been more of a '5 plot except Dante doesn't wake up and Vergil has to decide between power and the life of his brother' AU going on around here. I had a post written about it, but basically I think Nero himself is more than enough to give Vergil's emotional constipation some cracks, and then the ball gets rolling

- More Cerberus And King Cerberus Appreciation!!! They are two great demonic doggos and deserve more love (and double the appreciation for their weapon forms). I wish Dante had a Cerberus as a dog, than man really needs emotional support

- Vergil should Not have 4 wings. Controversial, yes, but he has a very cool and stabby tail in SDT, Wings are Dante's thing. Dante should have 4 wings, Vergil should have two and a tail, I Do Not Accept criticism

- Dante/Lady or Lucia ship could totally sail (personally I lean more towards Lucia), but not in this story of DMC, at least not for me. I think Dante could like either of them, but he is absolutely not in the right space for any kind of relationship during the entire story of the series, and probably won't be for a long time even after 5

- Patty Adopted Dante As Father Figure, I Do Not Accept Criticism

- Patty would get like a house on fire with Nero, especially if they compare Dante burns. She would also get along well with Vergil, because he actually has manners and style, she can appreciate that, also Patty wouldn't bother him too much (aside from nagging to be nicer).

- Dante is the Best Uncle when he is actually trying

- I wish we had at least a little bit more story going for Lucia, I really like her, but have not idea how to fit her in with other characters

- Nero didn't need to grow his arm back. He gets beautiful DT wing-claws, they are enough, or, well, they couldve made him be able to make a temporary 'holo arm' if needed, but in any case he is a better character if his arm is missing. Nero uses Breakers anyway, and his theme is using human contraptions instead of demonic artefacts. Regrowing an arm just makes him another one in a long line of 'disabled characters that get magically cured of their disaibility'. (have you seen his reloading animation with one arm? it`s great and just as cool as others)

- Dante and Vergil silently agreed to let Nero throw his much needed temper-tantrum, and Vergil absolutely went on easy mode on Nero. I love the punk boy, but no way he would be able to defeat either of the twins

- It is exceptionally beautiful to me how much alike and different the twins are, and either of them could be a hero, or a villain in their respective story. At the same time I am absolutely certain a villain!Dante would be irredeemable

- Battle for the Sun by Placebo is a song I associate with the tragic story of the wins. The music and melody is explosive and destructive, just like everything that came crashing down around the twins, it rises in intensity as their problems are left for decades to fester, the lyrics of the verses is very determined - both wont stand down and are extremely determined to see their crash course till the end (also the multiple repeats of some words makes it sound a little like a broken record - or in a narrative sense, like a lie they keep and keep telling themselves) , however the chorus is very different. The explosion of music that is constantly rising in verses finally blows up, and in this destructive cacaphony of sound the chorus is actually emotionally raw and sweet - the final confrontation of the brothers was inevitable, and it is the conclusion of their story, both know that and there is no more place left for conflict of goals, ideals or anything else, they know the end of their story is coming and the only thing they feel is joy. Joy as they clash together, like only they can, joy at seeing each other, alive after all these years, and joy at being together again, even in this twisted way, their affection in undeteterred

- (more Patty propaganda) I believe Morrison found the 'protect young child from demons' job for Dante on purpose. Morrison is probably one of the people who have known Dante for longest, so he would recognise halfbreed's change in moods after the Mallet job (for example Morrison notes Dante was sad when Patty left at the end of the anime, and...is this the only time someone actively voices concern for Dante's mental health? dammit everyone is this series is an emotional trainwreck). It's unknown if Morrison knows exactly How close to Home of an assignment Patty is (very young orphan hunted by demons, and she is not a half-devil child) to Dante, but her character was probably another good reason for Morrison to pick her as a temporary company to Dante. Even without considering his depressed state, Dante responds only to other dominating personalities (rivalry with Vergil, constantly trying to one-up another friendship with Lady) and Patty certainly has no patience for his laying around or mess at home. At the same time, she is considerate and empathetic enough to give him space or leave him alone if needed. She was the person to help him through the time after Mallet trauma and she did an admirable job. I think this makes their relationship (familiar one, NOT a ship) special, and she totally adopted Dante as her Father Figure against his will, and he can't do anything about it since.

- Subhuman is The Perfect song for DMC5 Dante (would I have liked it on its own? dunno, probably not, but playing the game with it on feels fantaSSStic and I adore this song ever since, also it is thematically On Point with Dante's character arc in 5)

- One of the fics I've read (Неудачник by velkhar on ao3) had written down the idea that Dante doesn't speak in SDT is because he is afraid of what his voice would sound like (once again, Dante has problems with his demonic heritage, they did not go away, not at all) and this headcanon has been aggressively accepted ever since

- Every Sparda has a very refined music taste. Dante is a Red Hot Chilli Peppers and Tenacious D fan for sure, perhaps also a Deepeche Mode fan, probably other 80-90s rock would fall into his interests. Nero is more of a pop rock guy, he definitely would like some rap and grunge music too, he'd like older Imagine Dragons albums, Linkin Park For Sure, maybe Skillet and or Katy Perry, probably also developed a taste for some classical music (being in Order and all; btw yes, you can like rock and classical music at the same time). Dante and Nero would dance to Shakira and Lady Gaga. Vergil's harder to pin down, as much as I enjoy BTL I cannot imagine him listening to it. I'd say he would enjoy classical music of course, maybe something like jazz or soul too. Might be a big stretch, but I also think Vergil would enjoy something like Evanescence too, I feel like all Spardas have a weak spot for female lead vocals.

(projecting here) all of them would like orchestral covers of classic rock songs, Vergil would especially enjoy covers on pipe organ (double projecting).

[thisdreamplace]

hi yall <3

thank you for all of your love while i was away, your responses to my last post really touched me. i really appreciate you all, and after spending some time away, i realized i can never fully leave this blog because everything started here for me and i've loved documenting my experiences and sharing what i've learned along the way. i've always wanted to keep it real with everyone since the beginning, sharing both the painful and the beautiful, so that no one ever feels like theyre doing it wrong. everything is actually always right and perfect, even when we absolutely have no idea how. sometimes it really seems like everything is up against you, and there's nothing but obstacles and push back. sometimes you feel so, so human and lost, and like maybe none of this ever existed after all. but... seriously, this is real. and if you're here, you probably already know that. :) but if you need reassurance, i can promise you... this is real. because i've experienced it again and again. and i experienced the one thing that lead me to this journey in the first place, in the most perfect and beautiful way. i can finally say, it happened and i have been able to experience it as beautiful and a natural part of my life. whatever it is that you came here for, don't be afraid to let it go and find yourself again. because i promise you, you will experience it. when it's so true to you and your heart, there's no way it won't happen. so don't be afraid to put yourself first, and to navigate this life and allow yourself to live it and feel it, and sometimes even hate it and cry about it, and know that it's only temporary. i think we weren't made to come here and push away all the negative things, but to realize that it's all perfect as it is. that we are meant to feel it out fully, the beautiful and the ugly. and through that, we are able to come closer to the nonduality that the godself already recognizes. by not being afraid, or being afraid... but moving forward anyway. stop pressuring yourself into being this perfect, realized being. how you are, who you already are... is seriously enough and already perfect. is already fulfilled, is already experiencing whatever it is that your heart wishes for. all you have to do is get out of your own way, and let it be. stop with the conditioning, stop with the forcing. and just... live. just be. it's perfect, you're perfect. the moment is perfect. <3

thank you for being here with me, and for sharing your own experiences and thoughts along the way. <3

xo dream <3

[behindthewox]

Hello, Andrew here. This blog article was sent to me and I can assure you that this is not correct information but a reaction likely of those who were involved. This information likely stems from previous MoM or HM themselves, I guess, seeing that they have been banned properly recently (which I am only stating because you already stated it yourself, otherwise I would not give away who is or is not banned)

When I took over I made it very clear in an NB post that the harrassment of users, witch hunt on site, and generally toxic and disrespectful behaviour needs to stop. Everyone is more than welcome to share opinions, but this was not that, this was simply insanely rude behaviour that was based on wrong information given by the MoM/HM to the other leaders of WoP, who then compiled their letter. Which is also the reason why after all of this these other site leaders were put back into their positions after everything was cleared up.

I have banned a total of 4 people from 800-900 actives at the time for continuing their disrespectful behaviour and outright slandering (one of them later on) despite my very clear warning in the article (I was surprised that it was only so few, but almost everyone was just glad to be able to enjoy the website again). I also made an effort to respond to each single comment transparently and open minded. Many of the people who removed content or joined that group hype have talked to me, told me their opinions, and gave me the opportunity to work on their missing trust together. I am on good terms with almost all of the old staff with maybe 5 exceptions (MoM, HM for being the reason this went down and one old staff on bad terms; the other two people I am neutral towards as I never spoke with them and don't know their thoughts) Every old staff member who reached out to me has their own experiences and opinioms and don't always agree with me, but they are more than valued and often play important roles in our staff as well - whether student or grad. In fact, I really enjoyed every single talk with them and appreciate anyone who reached out despite their fear of rejection, as that takes a lot of courage

The old MoM and HM were banned later on, yes, you can feel free to ask them for the exact reason I put in. The previous behaviour of theirs is unwelcome on site, and they created a horrible environment for people at the time this happened, just because of a "money grabbing" feature that was completely changed back anyway for other reasons. One of them was still logging in on alt for reasons I don't really understand, because they made sure everyone knew their hate towards Dan and the site. So why log in almost regularly even after almost a year? I guess I know why ,but that is just an assumption, so I will not voice it here

Aside from that, if you paid attention to the site development, you would also see that since then (but not because of that), new users got free VIP, people with jobs get discount, linking accounts gets a whole 50% discount, and such

I am mostly replying to clear some things up because I don't enjoy reactions that are based on false facts. I wanted to stay on WoP US as a temporary solution, but the community has been loving and welcoming, which was really unexpected considering the circumstances they went through

This is something that happened almost a whole year ago now, I even unbanned one of the 4 bans that took place when I took over, so technically it is only 3

I hope that this could clear up confusion and misunderstanding. I would like to see this message public because I am mostly writing it for the very few that might end up seeing it. Considering the nature of this post, you already made up your mind about me and that is okay. But I want to give my insight first hand, as I don't enjoy someone trying to slander my name based on more accusations of those people who were banned for false accusations in the first place

Magical regards,

Andrew Sutherland (WoP US)

By the way, I am only asking this anonymously because of privacy concerns regarding this account (never use Tumblr anyway)

Added in a later message: "Andrew here again, please add this xD I saw that you have made clarifications regarding there possibly being more to these accusations, my response was mainly aimed towards the person asking the question, but I do admit that I thought that that message was originally from you, the blog writer, and only saw your response later on (I am not used to tumblr and on phone it doesnt show all on one screen, oops). Just wanted to clarify that as it may explain some wording of mine!"

No hard feelings on my side, thanks for the clarification! If I can share both sides of the story, that is what I want to do and you've allowed me to share yours. It's greatly appreciated and I hope this clears the air a little bit.

NOTE: I can't verify if this person is who they say they are, the anonymous submissions are anonymous to me as well. I have no reason to doubt or suspect that it's someone else writing in their name, but I want to note that with anonymity there is a risk of abuse and impersonation. I don't think that's the case here though.

[doverstar]

Me again here to scream about how much I love this-- I was so happy to wake up to the new chapter and an hour later you have me here SOBBING (positively, that was good, just AHHH)

Rose finally connecting all the dots!! all the little signs that were there from the start, beating herself up about the fact that she didn’t recognize him, even with all those little “coincidences”-- Reading that whole thought process makes me happy in a way while also ouch, it was truly right there in front of you all along.

And oh I wasn’t expecting her to, I didn’t really think about it. But being worried and sad about the Angels suffering and slowly withering away for the rest of their existence is so… Rose.

“The Doctor's hands came up and straightened the blue bow tie, and Rose caught an echo of Will tugging at his shirt collar.” you have no idea how happy it made me to read this,,, I had been waiting for this moment ever since I saw Will doing that the first time 🤲

But everything else about it is making my heart crumble. The realization that not only did he change but also the Tardis, a place that used to be so dear and familiar to her, all the time that has passed for him and all the people that were there after her to fill her place. And the fact that he didn’t even mention her to them- as if she didn’t mean anything, as if he didn’t even think about her anymore (which isn’t true. every day, every day. he's just trying so hard to carry on too.)

When she asked about Will, and thought about him, and cried— I ended up sobbing too. One just can’t help but miss him. Man, he's such a dear thing

PLEASEEE I NEED THEM TO BE HAPPY AND TOGETHER :((( Doverstar don’t do this to me (I will take any ending actually, the joy I get from simply reading your stuff is worth it, but the temporary stress from that cliffhanger is here right now and I'm shaking you by the shoulders for it /lh)

I want you to know that your in-depth, detailed comments on my writing makes me very, very happy. I get a little jolt of excitement every time I see feedback like this. You are appreciated! Poor Will! It's okay! He's a facet! Shut up Doctor

If I were Rose, I think I'd feel super weird about the Tardis changing but then I'd get used to it and like it a lot because Eleven's Tardis is very me- Anyway! Thank you for this! I loved reading your thoughts.

[a-rumbly-in-my-tumbly]

Yakumo vampire card spoilers! (And tangentially idol card spoilers)

I have SO MANY FEELINGS about the fact that THIS is what Yakumo makes Eiden repeat into the mirror

I would put a cut here but I DON'T KNOW HOW ON MOBILE ANYWAY

Like okay Yakumo has SO many hangups about himself when it comes to his sexual behavior, right

He wants to be a service top so badly (even though it could be argued that he is!) BUT he essentially sees his sex drive as uncontrollable and that he's essentially using Eiden although he does love him--and that, by default, means that he's selfish and greedy and that he's forcing Eiden into things regardless of if Eiden tells him it's fine. Since, you know, Eiden has never seen what Yakumo thinks he's capable of becoming, or what he will become, informed consent between them doesn't really exist in Yakumo's eyes.

Out of all the things to make someone say in a mirror that you know reflects your true self?

Reassuring Eiden that he's not filthy, which, if we remember from the idol card, was the way *Yakumo* felt about himself when he was *begging* Eiden not to swallow? This PRECIOUS HEART. Dear precious boy. 😭 He wants to protect Eiden from everything he has felt about himself SO badly!

Also the Japanese voice lines put something more explicitly in this that I wish the text would have--the verb form for the word translated as "fucked" here specifically uses a conjunction that implies allowing oneself to be. Considering how transformative it is for Yakumo to be accepted, and how much it means to him?

"Eiden, you always look cutest when you let yourself get fucked until you come"

HELLO???

With everything they've been through and Eiden usually being the one to not only take pains to make sure Yakumo is comfortable and taken care of while convincing him that this is what he wants, it really means a lot to Yakumo to make sure he acknowledges that Eiden's sacrifice is appreciated (even if Eiden himself doesn't see it as one) and that's such a profound part of his character that the temporary confidence the enchantment on the mirror gives him doesn't make him lose it--like he is always terrified will happen.

There's a reason Yakumo is best boy for me and he gives me all the feelings 😭 I know a lot of people don't care for him because oh he cries too much or it sounds noncon (that might be the translation's cross to bear in translating, for example, some of his intimacy lines too literally/not adding needed subtext, to be fair; knowing Yakumo now. I would do so even if just to put a finer point on the difference between him and Garu--there is one from the way the Japanese lines are phrased, in any case, but it kind of gets short shrift, in my opinion, which may be for several reasons in tandem. But ANYWAY moving right along) but as someone who is also Riddled With Anxiety and hates themselves an unhealthy part of the time I love him so much he's such a good boy and I want people to KNOW!!!

[kimtaegis]

I don't think I have ever hyperfixated on something this long other than bts.. I've always had interests that stayed with me for a long time but then for a few months I kind of stopped because there was no content or I got into something else... But with bangtan it has been a constant interest for years. And it really sucks that they have to go, even though Jin is coming back in 6 months.. I will be forever grateful for them for how they handled their solo era. I know lots of people simply couldn't keep up with all the content (me included, I still have a few things I need to watch when I'll have time) and/or burned out because of how much we got but at the same time, time flew by so quickly. I mean Jin left a year ago and it doesn't feel like a year? At least to me.

I'm a little bit afraid of the future though because while I know they recorded a lot of content for us, I feel like it'll be different and fewer than a solo album promo. Now I'm not trying to say that they didn't do enough for us before anyone misunderstands! I just want to say that I feel like because the content will be different and nobody here to idk randomly go live, time will feel slower than it did in the past year :( I'm also really curious if I can keep my hyperfixation throughout this period or if I'll also take a break for awhile. Bangtan has never really stopped before so it felt like there is always something to do or watch.

it’s very valid to worry about how these next few months will go; as you said yourself, both them and us fans never experienced such a period of time before. it’s so normal to be a scared of the unknown, of the future in general, in my opinion! but as I try to vehemently tell myself these days: we have no choice but to find out eventually, and however it will go, time will pass anyway (yes it’s this infamous quote that has been going around social media but it’s so true!).

maybe we as a fandom will finally be able to slow things down to actually enjoy and appreciate the content we get during that time more (I feel like everything has been incredibly fast-paced which took away a lot of my enjoyment, actually) but also the content we received so far. also what namjoon said in his letter today is something I try holding close to my heart; it really is a comfort to have something to look forward to. they won’t be back forever, this is all temporary, and life will inevitably go on. repeating this to yourself about a hundred times a day actually helps a little! ….. and it’s gonna be insane once they all come back. just imagine that pure joy. it’s worth waiting for.

if they have been such a constant in your life, this little time apart will only make your heart grow fonder, I’m sure of it. a hyperfixation isn’t the healthiest thing, pretty sure we all secretly know that (yet here we are), so hey, this could be a pretty good opportunity to dabble into various new things, or to go back to old loves of yours, or to just concentrate on something else entirely. your heart is so big, there’s more than enough space for your persistent love for bts and fresh and new beloved things that you might come across!

that comfort-giving, fondness-inducing, seven-butt imprinted corner in there (taps your chest sternly) will always be there if you want it to!! 🤍🤍🤍