#hand picked to murder us all fr

[donnydamakkk]

every woman casted on station 19 was casted to personally induce gay panic attacks on the sapphic community

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Sometimes your lovely boyfriend can have a hard time with the word 'no'.

Genre: Fluff <3

Warnings: swearing, discussions of consent (nothing bad happens at all!! I promise!), implied sexual relationship

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

James didn't always know when too much was, well, too much. 

He had this impulsive tendency to take things way too far. Of course he always had the best of intentions, it was just that sometimes his initial excitement would cloud his judgment. Like now, when no matter how many times you insisted, he couldn't take your, "No, I don't want to swim in the freezing water," seriously. 

"Come on! Everyone's in, sweetheart!" James whines childishly. 

He isn't wrong. All your friends play happily in the water while you sit on the bank of the lake. It's an early summer morning and the air is still too chilly for you to even consider jumping in, so you've adamantly (and politely) declined all their invitations to join them.

However, your darling boyfriend can't seem to accept the no.

"James, love, I will hex you if you don't shut up." You warn with a playful smirk. Sirius uses James's distraction to splash him, which makes the latter squeal. Remus wraps his arm around James's neck, pulling him half-way into the murky water. When they emerge, they laugh breathlessly.

You adjust the strap of your bikini over your shoulder and simply lay your head on your arms as you smile at them.

"You are in your bathing suit, Y/n." Lily reasons with a small smirk and you glare at her. Traitor, you think, she's supposed to be on your side. 

"Exactly, thank you, Lily!" James jumps up and starts to waddle through the water towards you. He's dripping wet when he stands over you, bends over, and shakes his hair. You cover your head with your arms as small, practically freezing, droplets of water hit your warm skin. 

"James!" You exclaim and scramble up to move away from him.

You hear Remus, Sirius, and Lily chuckle in amusement before they turn around and mind their own business. Traitors.

Your boyfriend just sends you smirk and outsretches his arms, "Hug?" He honeys, faking a pout.

You hold out your arm, "Get away, you nutter." You say sternly.

"Please." James sounds more sincere now and moves towards you a little.

You squint at him, hiding a smile behind a look of suspicion, and ask him, "Just one?" 

James nods. 

You pick up your towel from the grass and then throw it to him. James catches it and dries his hair. He also starts to pat himself dry as you approach him wearily, "I don't bite, lovie." He laughs.

You roll your eyes, still believing him. However, the moment you're close enough to him he's wrapping the towel around your ass and pulling you into him. 

You make a small shriek as you hit his, still extremely wet, chest and his lips attach themselves to your neck as he nips at your skin. You squirm and when he looks up, an adorably stupid look on his face makes your heart leap, "I lied." He points out with another pout. 

You frown, "You're an absolute idiot."

"Probably." He admits and then, with no warning, picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. 

You hit his back, "James Potter, put me down now or I swear I’ll bloody murder you, you wanker." You cry as he turns around and you just know he's already making his way towards the lake. You kick your legs and flail your arms in protest but feel his cold, damp, hands tighten around your waist. 

"Careful, mate." Remus tries to warn him but James doesn't listen. He's already almost waist deep in the water and he lets you fall into his arms. You clutch onto his neck and squirm.

"No." You hiss and stare into his eyes. 

Again, James isn't the best at knowing when to stop. 

"Sorry, love" He whispers and proceeds to throw you a few feet away from him. Your head hits the water and instantly, the temperature shocks you as your ears start to ring from the impact. You let yourself stay underwater, a little surprised by the depth, and collect yourself. You realize James doesn't know you're a good swimmer, all he knows is he just launched his poor, unwilling girlfriend into freezing water. 

So, you stay under as long as you possibly can. Just to scare him a little.

Barely a few seconds pass by before strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you to the surface, "Y/n!" You hear James's voice as the water drains from your ears, "Are you okay?" 

You splash him, your hand hitting his cheek playfully, "I hate you." You say with a small smile. 

James's face relaxes, “You fucking scared me." He admits, half-scolding, half-relieved, and holds you close. 

You laugh and stand up in the water, "It's not that deep, idiot." You scrunch your nose when he uses both of his hands to move strands of hair from your face as he peppers kisses all over your cheeks. 

"Merlin, don't do that ever again, Y/n." He whispers. 

"Maybe don't throw me into the water when I asked you not to." You retort and push your hair back. 

James looks a little guilty, "Yeah, sorry." 

He leans in to kiss you but you turn his head around, "No." You say and James frowns. 

"No?"

"No." You fight a smile.

"Okay." James says, confused, and dunks under the water. He comes back up and pushes his hair away from his forehead.

"See, it's not that hard." You tease him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He nuzzles his cheek into the crook of your neck,

"That's a completely different situation, love." He tries to reason but you shake your head.

"Consent is consent." You inform and James pouts like a child.

"Now you're making me sound like a dick." He whispers, embarrassed, "You don't actually think I'm bad with consent, do you, Y/n?" He sounds genuinely concerned.

"You're not a dick, Jamie." You laugh, "You are a little bad with the concept of the word no, though."

"Hey! Not when it really matters!" He defends, carefully wrapping your legs around his waist. He starts to roam around the water like it's just the two of you, alone in your little bubble.

You nod, "Of course, but it does matter all the time."

James tilts his head, "Yeah, you're right, I'm sorry, honey.” He kisses behind your ear, "How can I make it up to you?" You giggle and lean in to kiss his lips, which he accepts graciously.

"You know what you can do?" You ask in a whisper into his ear, "You can take me upstairs and I'll let you — " You make sure the rest can't be heard by your friends.

James's eyes sparkle excitedly, but then he pauses and his eyebrows furrow as he thinks, "And you consent, yeah?" You grin, endeared, "Just say no and I'll listen, baby." 

"Good boy. You learn fast."

James groans and kisses you again, "Call me a good boy again, please." He mutters as his lips trail down your neck.

You laugh. He wraps his arms around your waist and you hold onto him, "Behave, Potter."

"Tease." He says and suddenly drops you into the water. You emerge and splash him, your smile hurting your cheeks.

"Perv." You retort and James raises his brow. He grins and throws you over his shoulder again. This time, you don't protest and just wave as you walk by your friends.

"Do we even want to know why you're leaving?" Remus shouts, shaking his wet hair from next to Sirius.

"They're going to have sex, Moony. Keep up." The latter rolls his eyes.

"Gross." Lily scrunches her nose. Your friends turn their heads when they hear your amused squeal and see James dig his fingers into your side, making you laugh, as you pick up your belongings. You hit him with your towel but hold his hand anyway.

"Sometimes, I do hate how cute they are." Peter mutters to himself.

"Aww, I can give you a kiss if you want, Wormtail." Sirius jokes which earns him a splash from Remus and an eye roll from Lily. 

"Bugger off." Peter looks horrified. 

"Pucker up." Sirius cries and lunges at Peter in the water, only to be pulled away by Remus and you can hear their laughter even from far away.

You look at James. James, your lovely, sometimes stupid, boyfriend and his messy dark curls. He's all you had ever asked for, and all you could ever want. 

"I love you." You say, adoringly.

James turns his head, an obnoxiously proud look on his face, "I love you more, my love. More than you can ever imagine." He pulls you into him, his hand leaving yours to wrap around your shoulder as he reaches for your opposite hand.

You hand it to him and grin when he squeezes it. You feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

[wileys-russo]

Can you do a blurb about tooney where reader is shorter than her.

sorry seems to be the hardest word II e.toone

"oh for fuck sakes." you grumbled to yourself, hunting around for your training jacket but unable to find it. "ella!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, unsure where your girlfriend actually was in your shared home, head still buried in your wardrobe as footsteps raced upstairs.

"ya called baby?" the girl appeared as her thick accent sounded behind you. "where is my jacket?" you asked her seriously, raising an eyebrow to show you weren't messing about. the smug smile on her face was all the confirmation you needed that she was up to her usual tricks.

"don't know love. have ya properly looked for it?" she asked innocently and your eyes narrowed. "we needed to leave five minutes ago and i am not in the mood. where the fuck is my jacket el?" you warned, your girlfriend gesturing for you to step aside with a shoo of her hands.

reaching up she grabbed it from the very top shelf making you sigh, deeply unamused. the taller girls most favourite way to wind you up was to pick on you for your height, specifically to hide things where she knew you'd need her help to get them down.

"now what would ya do without me hmm?" the mancunian grinned, holding your jacket out of your reach as you grabbed for it. "ah ah ah. now say thank you baby, i love ya." ella teased, stretching her arm up higher as you huffed.

"thank you baby, now give me my fucking jacket or i swear to god i'll kill you in your sleep." you smiled dangerously through gritted teeth, ella dropping the jacket on your head in response.

"short and fiesty. that's how i like my women!" the girl smacked your bum with a whistle as you were distracted with your jacket, the murderous look sent her way having her sprinting out of your bedroom.

"come on love! god you're always makin us so late."

~

at the training grounds, it would seem that this morning was only the beginning as ella continued to go out of her way to mess with you.

"you are joking me." you grumbled under your breath, returning from the bathroom to see your boots had magically gone missing from where they were previously sat under your cubby.

"maz did you see where ella put my boots?" you sighed to the older woman who sent you a sympathetic smile. "i only just arrived, stuck in bloody traffic, sorry babe." mary apologised as you nodded in understanding, spotting ella speaking with maya on the other side of the room.

"toone!" you growled in warning, maya seeing the clearly pissed off look on your face and hurrying away as you stormed over toward them. your girlfriend however seemed only amused at your reaction, spreading out with her hands behind her head and a smile on her face.

"ya called?" she sung out staring up at you. "where are my boots ella?" you asked, staring at her with a pained expression. "now why would i know that love? are ya losing your things again?" the midfielder pouted sarcastically making your blood boil further.

"go and get them, now." you demanded, pointing to your cubby as she remained unmoved and you heard the training staff blow the whistle to signal you were all expected on the pitch.

"ella!" you repeated with a slight whine when she didn't move. "tooney! get your girls boots, everyone knows you obviously hid them mate." mary stuck up for you, clapping your back with her gloved hand and pointing menacingly at your girlfriend before she filed out after everyone else.

"i think ya should cheer up baby." ella teased, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek and sprinting out of the change rooms as you yelled after her. "the fucking cheek of her." you looked over to your cubby and from a distance were finally able to see your boots placed on top of your locker.

with a defeated groan you stood up on the bench of your cubby, but even stretching on the tips of your toes you were still unable to reach your boots.

glancing around desperately you jumped down and grabbed a spare corner flag pole from the training room, sprinting back and successfully knocking your boots down with it.

putting them on in record time you hurried out to the pitch, the rest of the girls already split up and having commenced the mornings first drills.

"y/l/n seven minutes late means seven laps. go!" marc called out as your body crumpled but you nodded, most of your friends sending you sympathetic looks.

you knew ella would be one of them but your body burning with anger at her you refused to look her direction, starting your laps and cursing the mancunian responsible to the high heavens under your breath.

~

if ella hadn't already figured out after your laps that you were pissed off with her, the fact you'd refused to look or speak to her at all since had really solidified that she had taken things too far.

all day she had been calling out encouragement your way, trying over and over to get back in your good books to no avail and much to the amusement of your teammates.

"dog house for you tonight then tooney." millie teased as you all finished for the day, headed back toward the change room as you walked ahead with mary and hayley.

"yeah mate give us a call once you're locked out, you can crash on my couch." maya smacked her on the back of the head as ella shoved her away with a dirty look, only furthering both girls amusement as the teasings continued.

"you can walk home." you spoke bluntly to your girlfriend, kit bag already slung over your shoulder not bothering to shower as you swiftly exited the change room, the whistles and jeerings sent ella's way causing her face to burn bright red.

"nope! you give her some space, i'll drive you home in a bit." mary grabbed the back of the younger girls top as she grabbed her things to hurry after you, pushing her back to sit down with a firm look as ella tried to protest but fell silent, instead sulking in the corner like a scorned child.

~

"go on then, grovelling time." mary pulled up out the front of your shared home, nodding for ella to get out as she took a deep breath, thanking the older girl and slipping out of the car.

she fumbled around with her keys, trying to open the door but frowning as it stayed closed.

"oh fucking come on." she kicked at the wood with a frustrated huff realising you'd locked the deadbolt, which only your keys had a copy of. "baby come on! let us in." ella whined, knocking loudly on the door and hearing footsteps come her way.

"oh sorry i'm too short to reach it." you spat bitterly, crossing your arms and glaring at the closed door as ella sighed, head thumping softly at the wood.

"love i know i took it way too far. please let me in to make it up to ya!" ella begged, flowers in hand ready to give to you that she'd made mary stop and allow her to buy.

"oh sorry can't hear you? your head is just so much further away from me since you're so much taller. hope the welcome mat makes a comfy pillow!" you mocked, and ella groaned louder as your footsteps retreated away from the door.

slumping down against the door with a huff ella wracked her brain on how she could try to get back in your good graces. she came up with one idea, but it was shit.

however unable to come up with anything else, she had no choice but to go for it.

so dropping her bag by her feet she cleared her throat and began to count herself in, you listening from a few feet away with a frown. unsure if she was trying to rile herself up to kick the door down, something you'd not put past her.

but much to your shock, she instead began to sing.

"what've I gotta do to make you love me? what've I gotta do to make you care? what do I do when lightning strikes me?" ella began to belt out the lyrics to sorry seems to be the hardest word to say by none other than elton john.

"oh my god." you mumbled to yourself, unable to stop the smile which grew on your face as ella continued, confidence growing as she sang louder and louder with each verse.

"it's sad, so sad why can't we talk it over? when, it seems to me that sorry seems to be the hardest word!" you heard her pause, as if waiting for the door to unlock or you to say something before she continued.

"what do I do to make you want me? what I got to do to be heard? what do I say when it's all over? sorry seems to be the hardest word!"

"baby are ya really gonna make me sing the whole song? the neighbors are out watchin me!" ella paused to yell with a groan.

"yes! keep going." you called back as you heard her sigh and continue, again getting louder and somehow more and more off tone with each line.

"what have I got to do? what have I got to do? when sorry seems to be the hardest word!" ella finished, carrying the final word on for at least thirty seconds before falling silent.

with an amused smile you shook your head and undid the deadbolt, swinging the door open to face her.

"thank you! she'll be here all week." you called out to your neighbours over her shoulder, waving at them on their front lawn with a grin as their laughter grew and ellas face flushed bright red.

grabbing your hand she gently pushed you back inside, kicking her bag in and firmly closing the door with a relieved sigh.

"did we learn our lesson then?" you enquired, crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow. "yes. no more hidin things!" ella sighed with a shake of her head.

"i am very very very very very sorry baby. forgive us?" ella asked hopefully, holding out the flowers to you which you accepted with a nod. "you are cooking dinner, cleaning up afterwards, giving me a massage and doing all the laundry tomorrow." you warned, ella nodding eagerly before she pounced on you, pulling you into a passionate smooch and mumbling yet another apology against your lips.

leaving her to take her trainers off and unpack her bag you made your way to the kitchen to find something to put the flowers in, popping them in a vase and grabbing out some juice to drink. though as you opened the cupboard to grab out a glass your eyes narrowed and your jaw clenched.

"ella why the fuck are all the cups and mugs on the very top shelf!?"

[fanfictilltheend]

❤️‍🔥Violent Heart Part 1: ♪All I've ever learned from love was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you ♫ (or the VERY DARK Stepdad!Mechanic!Covict!Joel x Afab!you one)❤️‍🔥

A/n: It's here!!!!!! 18+ Only. This took me 7 freaking months so you mofos better like, reblog, and comment. This is both my most and least personal fic I've ever written and it is dark and relies heavily on plot (no smut until part 2 but i swear it's worth the backstory!!!!) READ ALL OF THE TAGS DO NOT COME FOR ME UNLESS YOU DID THIS FR FR. This ones for my dark joel fangirlies(guys and NBies) and the daddy issues fam ily ❤️‍🔥 (also not me naming my fic in part after hallelujah by leonard cohen but there is a reason!!!!!!!!!!)

Summary: The story starts with Part 1 where afab!Y/N is a child and Joel is her new stepdad and this story explores their relationship. Themes of abusive family, domestic violence, child abuse, daddy issues, physical violence, murder, stepcest (kinda b/c he is divorced from her mom technically but she grew up with him as her stepdad), infidelity, age gap, and more are explored throughout the fic. PLEASE READ SPECIFIC TAGS (part 2 tags will be added with the release of part 2). Part 2 picks up with Y/N at age 20 and how her relationship with Joel has changed and gets steamier. NOTHING SEXUAL OCCURS BETWEEN Y/N and JOEL until Y/N is 20!!!!!!! Also check out this playlist of music that's in the fic!!!!

Tags (PLEASE READ): Afab!you, stepdad!joel, mechanic!joel, convict!joel, no apocalypse au, Mentions of sex (little detail), mentions of male masturbation, infidelity, domestic abuse/violence, sibling abuse/violence (no one ever talks about sibling abuse but it’s very real), physical child abuse, neglect, allusions to past domestic violence, cursing, brief mention of pedophilia and kidnapping (David), allusions to committing future pedophilia (David), threats, cancer mention, Sarah death discussion, Tommy death mention, murder, prison, mentions of god and religion, fights, general violence, alcohol consumption, using music lyrics to move the plot, daddy issues, use of y/n

Word Count: ~15k

PART 2 (coming soon)

Ao3 Link

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

Joel Miller is not a good man, that he knows like the backs of his calloused hands. 

He knows loss too, feels it burrowed in the hollow cavity of his chest. Sees it in the face of every little girl he meets. 

The memories sting. 

He knows pain, deep in the depths of his character, down to the fundamentals of what makes him something that resembles a human being. The belts, the bigger hands, the harsh words, and then the grief. The recent Bring back my babygirl! The ancient ¡Basta, Papí, por favor, no Tommy, no Mamá! ¡Por favor no esta noche! The indignity of begging, always reduced to begging to a cruel man, an indifferent doctor, a cruel universe. 

He knows hard work, how to work with his hands. He knows the grit and grease of labor. Sees the cogs turning in the engines he fixes, relates to them. Feels like he knows them intimately because he is one too, chugging along day after endless day. But no one dares fix Joel Miller.

Until…

Her name is Erica and she’d like her front bumper replaced, please. She has long eyelashes and a soothing voice. And she has money too, at least more than he, who is almost broke from the cost of Sarah’s medical bills. She comes with baggage, Joel can tell from looking into her eyes, but then again so does he. And he hasn’t been laid in god knows how long. 

She takes him on a date and he lets her. She reveals she has two kids, but Joel doesn’t care. They fuck at her place while the kids are at school and she wants it soft, like her hands, and that’s how Joel gives it to her. 

A week later, Joel has moved in, which is good because his rent was due and he couldn’t pay it. He still hasn’t met the children.

***

It’s Joel’s day off and he’s sitting on the couch in his new home. His back hurts, but that’s nothing new. He’s got an excellent view of their nice, big backyard with a wooden fence. The kind of home he would have liked to have given Sarah. He sighs. Technically, nothing is wrong.

Then he sees it. It takes him a second to realize what is going on. It’s a whirlwind. He sees the back gate open and two tumbling forms fall over the threshold onto the manicured grass. One form is bigger, a boy of about twelve or thirteen beating the shit out of a much smaller form, fists flying. The other form is a little girl, no more than eight, defending herself like her life depends on it. Perhaps it does with the way he’s going at her. 

This must be the son, Aiden, and the daughter, Y/N. 

He’s a good boy, really, but he has anger issues sometimes. He’s been through a lot. That’s what Erica said, but Joel does not see a good boy. He sees a bully. A disproportionately violent one at that. Nothing that tiny girl could have possibly done could warrant the brutality he sees before him. 

Anger is something else Joel knows intimately, and that is what he greets when he runs outside to end the fray.

“Stop that!” he roars, pulling Aiden off of Y/N.

“Who the fuck are you!?” the boy screams, fury and hatred radiating off of his entire being. 

He continues thrashing and punching at nothing as Joel restrains him.

“I’m gonna kill her!” he screams, his eyes bulging.

“What the hell happened?” Joel growls, still holding onto the livid boy–verging on young man. 

“She ripped up my paper!” he bellows. “For no fucking reason! I worked hard on it!”

“It was a lie,” she says with so much conviction Joel almost flinches.

He looks down at the little girl, her nose bleeding, her right eye turning purple. She has tears streaked down her face, but she is not crying. Her shirt is ripped. The first thing he thinks of when he sees her is Sarah. Of course it’s Sarah, how could he not think of her? But this little girl is different, has a different look in her eye. This look is much harder and feels like she’s lived a thousand lifetimes. He thanks god Sarah never looked that way, but somehow he wants to hear about everything this little girl has experienced. Something twangs in Joel’s chest that he has not felt in what feels like an eternity. 

“It was not a lie, you stupid bitch whore!” Aiden shouts angrily, still fighting back against Joel’s unrelenting grip. “Take that back!”  

“No, you take it back! Dad is not a hero. You could’ve picked anyone to write about and you choose him? After everything he’s done?” she screams herself.

The sound of her voice is powerful but desperate. Joel feels himself needing to know more and bury himself deep inside her experiences.

“SHUT UP!” Aiden yells, finally ceasing his movements. 

A tear falls from his cheek. 

“If I let you go, will you stop whooping your sister?” Joel snaps firmly.

“Get away from me, you stupid cuck!” Aiden curses, turning his energy to Joel. “Who the hell are you to me? Fuck you! I’m out of here!”

He wriggles out of Joel’s grasp and Joel lets him go and Aiden storms back out the rear gate, slamming it behind him.

“You alright?” he asks Y/N.

Joel crawls over on his knees, still upright, closer to her. 

“Had worse,” she shrugs, running a hand through her messed-up hair. 

She wipes the tears and blood from her cheeks.

Joel shudders to imagine what she means.

“He always like that?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “So you Mom’s new boyfriend?”

“Something like that,” he nods back. ”’M Joel. Joel Miller.”

“I’m Y/N,” she says a bit mournfully. “Here,” she continues suddenly, reaching out a small hand to his cheek. She wipes blood (hers) gently off his stubbly face. “Didn’t mean to get ya dirty.”

Joel is nothing short of touched. He wasn’t even aware he could still have such a feeling. His cheeks go rosy pink. His heart pulses. He stares at her delicate hands and notices a long, thin scar on her left middle finger. 

“‘S no trouble, sweetheart,” he hears himself reassuring her. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Could even mend your shirt if ya want. Know how to sew and all.”

He reaches out a large hand, but she flinches at the sudden movement. A dull ache wells up in Joel’s chest. 

“Not gonna hurt you, honey. Swear it.” 

He wants with every fiber of his being for her to believe him, for it to be true. 

She takes his hand.

***

That evening Erica is still not home, working late Joel supposes. It is nine o’clock when Aiden slinks back into the house.

Joel stops him from making his way up the stairs. He is more than familiar with the art of creeping.

“Think you oughta apologize to your sister,” he says as gently as possible. Maybe he can impart some manners onto this unruly child now that he’s calmed down some. “You beat her real bad. You’re much bigger than her.”

“I’d do it again,” Aiden hisses, his eyes cold. “It makes me feel better.”

And then, to Joel, the answer is simple. What do you do with a bully who won’t repent? Fight him back. Show him who’s boss, who’s bigger.

He grabs Aiden by the arm in a flash of anger and drags him up the stairs. The boy screams and flails, but that doesn’t deter Joel. He brings him to the room he assumes is his, the walls covered in sports posters and memorabilia.

“Take off your shirt,” he growls, a familiar fury pounding inside his chest.

When Aiden protests, Joel does it for him, ripping the kid’s shirt nearly in half. Rage floods through Joel’s veins and he can’t exactly place why, but the feeling is very real and bouldering through him at an alarming speed. He knows this feeling, feels strangely at home there.

He undoes his belt and brings the leather end down on Aiden’s back, not the buckle like his father used to do. Joel does have some decency buried deep in his chest. And then he loses himself to the unyielding anger.

“You get ten,” he snarls. “Don’t you lay a hand on your sister again. Is that understood? Now you answer to me.”

No response except for a scream.

“I said , do you understand?” Joel roars, bringing down the belt.

Rage consumes him like a drug. He barely registers what he’s doing. The belt goes down again and again. And somehow, through the screaming and the pain, and the intoxicating feeling of being completely in control for once, Joel’s line of vision wanders to the bedroom door. In all the excitement, it was left ajar and out in the hallway, sitting on her knees is Y/N. Joel immediately expects fear, despair, revulsion. When Tommy would watch him take a beating his face would betray the most acute sense of hopelessness and terror and the waterworks would begin. But Y/N just stares at him unflinchingly, at what he’s doing. She doesn’t cry, she simply sees. Too much for a child, and yet, she watches. She does not intervene, doesn’t even try to. And for the tiniest moment, her and Joel’s eyes connect, and he feels a sense of calm, of comprehension, of recognition in that uncannily knowing gaze. Her irises sparkle and Joel feels…something that he cannot entirely articulate. Seen? Accepted? Understood? Joel knows logically what he is doing is an ugly, vile thing — he has never claimed to be a good man. Practical maybe, but never good. And yet, Y/N sees it — sees him — and she doesn’t look away. She cocks her head slightly, and images of Tommy grimacing in revulsion and fear as Joel mercilessly beat up their childhood neighborhood bullies to the point of unconsciousness pop into his mind, of the haunting look in his brother’s eyes. Even Sarah could not stomach his violent heart when she witnessed him beat up some pervert with a camera that had looked at her funny at the mall. Even though it was for her — to keep her safe. She had stared at him in disgust and pity. She had not seen him then at all.

But now, looking at Y/N, for the briefest moment, Joel can swear he sees something resembling a smile flicker over her serious face. And though it goes as quickly as it comes, he feels the familiar sensation gnawing at the bottom of his stomach: primal and untameable, soft and vulnerable, but fierce and loud at the same time. He feels an inexorable, inescapable sense of care and devotion to this child. But most of all, because she sees him, truly sees him, and does not turn away in disgust, Joel Miller feels the gut-wrenching, unquenchable sensation of love deep in his chest. For the first time since Sarah died on that hospital bed, weak and unwell from the chemo he could not afford, he feels alive . 

***

Things fall into a tentative routine. Every morning, Joel wakes up in bed beside Erica. They fuck the night before more often than not, but always in that same slow way that doesn’t do much for Joel. It’s enough to get off, sure, she isn’t an unattractive woman, but he’s mostly there for the meal ticket and roof over his head. He goes to work at the auto-body repair shop, Erica goes to her job at her law firm. The kids ride the bus to school. He gets home in the evenings before Erica and spends time coexisting with the children. Usually, he kicks back on the sofa, rubbing his sore back, and watches television, minding his own business. Aiden mostly avoids him, doing god knows what in his room. He bullies his sister cruelly and Joel punishes him when he sees fit. Erica knows what he does to Aiden and either doesn’t care or approves. He never lays a hand on Y/N though. She warms up to him slowly, cautiously. Most evenings she sits on the far end of the couch and Joel on the other, but as she gets used to him and sees that he’s not a threat, at least to her, she scoots closer. 

The children’s father is no longer in their lives from what Joel can tell, which is perfectly fine with him. When Joel’s heart does not feel full of lead, he plays the guitar. Y/N sits and watches him. She is a quiet child, but unrelentingly brave. When Joel lets the TV blare, he rarely cares to pay much attention these days, she stays and watches with him, no matter what is on and never complains or asks to change the channel. Blockbuster zombie apocalypse movie? She watches. News special on America’s most dangerous serial killers? She watches. Documentary on venomous snakes? She watches. Should Joel be letting her watch this crap? Who the fuck knows? He isn’t her father. And plus, he won’t admit this to anyone, hardly even himself, but he likes having some company. It makes everything feel…less. And he likes that she doesn’t try to make him speak. Sometimes there are no words and he thinks Y/N understands this. Unlike Erica who yaps every second of the day. But Joel stays polite and plays along. He has to.

But he will not lie, Aiden gets on his very last nerve. There is something that Joel cannot quite place that makes him feel like he has known this boy his whole life even though they are as familiar as perfect strangers. All siblings fight and rough-house. That is normal. Hell, he and Tommy used to fight rough and tumble all the time. But the way Aiden bullies Y/N is something else entirely. And most times, it is unprovoked. And he is so much bigger than she is, growing bigger by the day. 

Joel’s beatings have not stopped Aiden’s anger and sadistic attitudes, but they do make sure that he takes some kind of physical consequence for his crimes. It makes Joel feel better and he thinks it makes Y/N feel better too. And some days he gets so fucking mad at Aiden that he thinks not even god could stop his wrath even if the boy turned into Mother Theresa herself! Okay, maybe that’s extreme, but another part of Joel thinks maybe it’s not. The truth is, though he is loathe to admit it, some days, he is not in control of his anger. Some days he punches so hard, his knuckles bleed and he has to stop for a second to come back to himself. Others he goes so roughly on Aiden that he causes the kid to become bloody and he feels ashamed of what he’s done. But there are other days, very dark days, where he wishes he could do it over and over again. He convinces himself he’s doing it for Y/N and not some other sinister ulterior motive he does not care to dwell on…

One night, a few months into Joel’s new living arrangements, he walks through the upstairs hallway to his and Erica’s bedroom, passing the closed door to the bathroom that the kids share. He has done this what feels like a thousand times before and doesn’t think anything of it until he stops and realizes he hears Y/N singing. 

♪“ Someday, my pain / Someday, my pain will mark / You…”♫ she sings softly.

He can barely hear it over the crash of the water from her shower, but her voice is beautiful. It pulls at Joel’s shrunken heart, deep inside his long-dead chest. Her voice has an eerie quality to it too, almost haunting. He’s not sure of what song it is, but he finds himself wanting to know. Eventually, she stops, and Joel goes to bed, but her voice echoes in his mind for hours as he lies awake in the dark.

The next day, Joel is sitting on the couch when the kids get home from school. Y/N joins him on the other side of the sofa as usual. They watch reruns of some unfunny family sitcom.

“Heard you singing last night,” he finally grunts unceremoniously.

Y/N goes very still.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, avoiding his gaze. “I’ll be quieter next time.”

Joel looks over at her. He realizes she looks terrified.

“Ain’t no problem with it,” he tries to explain, confused. “Thought you sounded nice is all.”

“You tryna trick me?” she stammers, tears collecting in her shimmering eyes.

“What? Trick you? What you crying for, honey? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Joel is genuinely flabbergasted. 

Tears trickle down her cheeks. What has he done this time? he wonders. But he is concerned more than anything. Hell, he hasn’t seen her cry like this since the day they met. Not even last week when Aiden slammed her head into the metal oven in the kitchen (luckily it was off or Joel would have really killed him that time).  

She sniffles, looking conflicted, then collects herself as best she can manage.

“M-my dad didn’t like when I would sing. ‘Specially if he was in a depo…I forget the word…deponition? Deposition? When he was on the phone for work, I mean. If I was being too loud. Or too shrill. He didn’t like that one bit. He’d get mad…” she trails off. 

“The way Aiden gets mad?” Joel asks very slowly, not truly wanting to know the answer.

“Yeah,” she nods after a while. “Except he’s a lot bigger. And stronger. He…he broke my arm once. But it was on accident I think. He got me ice cream after.”

Anger, red and hot, pulses through Joel’s veins. What hadn’t this child endured at the hands of angry men? 

“What did your mother do?” he bites out, almost unnaturally calm from trying to control himself.

“Well, most of the time he’d kinda like hit her around, I guess? But the time he broke my arm was the time she made him leave for good and they got a divorce and all. Aiden says it’s my fault he won’t come around anymore. He was so mad. He loves Dad so much. I don’t understand it though because even though Dad likes him a lot more than me, Dad would still be so mean to him sometimes. Mom says I don’t even know all of it...Promise I won’t bother you with singing though, okay?”

“Sweetheart,” Joel says as softly as his blinding rage will permit. Somehow, when he’s with Y/N, he finds he can control himself better. “I’ll never get mad at you for singing. Or being too loud. Or anything. Never gonna put my hands on you. I’m sorry if what I do to Aiden scares you or made you think that I would ever do such a thing to you.”

“It doesn’t scare me,” she shakes her head. “When you get rough with Aiden, you do it because he did really bad, to protect me. It’s like with you there’s rules that make sense. Aiden chooses to be mean and violent so you choose it back to him. With my dad, it was different. It was like I could breathe wrong and I’d get in trouble. Get in trouble for things I couldn’t control or help. Sometimes I did bad, I know I did, but I also know there were other times where I wasn’t hurting anyone and he’d still hurt me so badly. My dad never got mad at Aiden for hurting me though. He thought it was funny, I think. Sometimes he’d kinda like sick him on me. Kinda how you could a dog.”

Joel doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t know the right words. He figures he can only show her with his actions who he is and she will just have to learn to trust him. If her father ever enters the house though, he will wring his neck. That’s for certain. Thank God he doesn’t come around for his sake, Joel’s, and the family’s.

“I was just thinking,” Joel finally says. “If ya want, I could learn how to play that song you were singing on my guitar and maybe you could sing it for me sometime?”

“M-maybe we could sing it together?” Y/N asks tentatively, her eyes wide. “Singing in front of other people is kinda scary.”

“I haven’t sung in a while,” Joel sighs. “Might be rusty.” 

“That’s okay,” she grins hopefully. 

Joel wants to take a photo of that rare sight and keep it close for as long as he lives, torn in his pocket or snug in his wallet, he doesn’t care. 

“Joel?” she asks a little cautiously, breaking him from his thoughts. “Can I ask you something?”

“‘Course, kiddo,” he says as gently as he knows how.

“Who’s Sarah?”

His heart stops. His blood runs cold. 

“What? How did you–”

“You were talking. In your sleep yesterday,” she says, shrinking away a little and Joel feels sorry for scaring her again. “When we were watching Dexter . Well, you fell asleep right before. You were snoring and all, but you were also talking and mumbling that name. You sounded sad and scared.”

Joel should definitely not have allowed her to watch that! But that is hardly the point right now. 

His heart squeezes so tight it burns. What was there to say about Sarah – the entire reason his life had had any purpose? His perfect babygirl? The light of his life? 

He could lie. So easily too and Y/N would never know. He could say nothing at all. Hasn’t even told Erica about her yet. Hardly ever speaks to anyone about her these days.

And yet…

“She was my daughter,” he hears himself say softly. “She…got sick. Died of leukemia a while back. She was twelve.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the wallet he was just thinking about. Inside is a tiny school photo of Sarah – the last one she ever took. It’s faded a little, but she’s still smiling so big she could block out the sun. He shows it to Y/N.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” she says and she really does look sorry. 

Not the way his co-workers and customers say it – almost as a reflex – to fill the void in the conversation. Her eyes are shimmering.  

“Nothin’ to do about it now,” he shrugs, running his thumb over the photo paper, softened with age. “But she was so damn special. My whole world.”

He has learned to repress the tears, not to show weakness, that is not hard. Not anymore. But the anger that broils up inside him – the injustice of it all – how he was unable to help her. Unable to save her. He feels almost like a child again, powerless in an unforgiving, unrelenting world. He wants to fight back!

He is so angry he begins to shake and his hands clench into fists. 

He wants to flip over the fucking coffee table – fling it across the room! He wants to punch in the glass of the flickering TV screen until his fist is broken! He wants to–He wants–

He just wants his babygirl back…

A sob, small and foreign rises in his throat, but he pushes it down. 

He thinks Y/N knows though. Can see the vulnerability in his eyes.

She reaches out a small hand and touches his fist, pushes it down gently into the soft fabric of the couch so he’ll stop shaking. It doesn’t entirely work, but he thinks he appreciates the effort.

“I don’t know if this is the right thing to say,” she begins a bit skittishly, still not entirely trusting the hulking, raging man above her. “But I think I would have liked to have been her friend.”

And for the first time since Sarah died, Joel sobs . 

Y/N pops up from the couch and Joel’s heart cries out louder in his chest for her to come back, don’t leave me too as he tries to suck the tears back in. It doesn’t work though and liquid gushes down his cheeks. He doesn’t think he can take the rejection, the loss of her. But thankfully, she returns just as quickly as she went with a handful of tissues stuffed into her small fist. 

“Here, Joel,” she offers. “Here. Don’t cry.”

Joel does cry though. He’s ashamed he’s broken down in front of this literal child, and he doesn’t let out much noise, but he doesn’t take the tissues either. He can’t. 

She’s so sweet though, or maybe it’s because she is truly afraid of him now, of his wrath, he’ll never really know, but she frowns and reaches out a little hand, the one with the scar on the middle finger, and tries to wipe up the tears.

The paper of the tissue tickles his cheeks.

“Shouldn’t havta…” he tries.

“Didn’t mean to make you…” she answers.

A pause.

“You didn’t, honey. That was all me,” he assures her finally.

She lets out a sigh of relief and soaks up the last of the salt water from his face, brushes the tissue gently against his nose. It tickles, causes him to snort. He smirks a little.

She smiles back shyly, she can’t help it, he can tell. 

“You know,” he says thoughtfully after a few moments of silence, sighing deeply. “I reckon she would’ve wanted to be your friend too…”

***

A few months roll by. Things are virtually the same except Y/N seems more comfortable around him now. Maybe it’s because she saw his weakness up close and personal, his Achilles heel —— knows how to coax it out of him now if she has to. Or maybe it’s because she truly trusts him. Whatever the case, she sits closer to him on the couch now, still giving him a respectful foot of distance though of course. 

Once in a blue moon, she sings for him and he tries to keep up with the lilting sound of her high voice. She says she likes his low, deep voice just fine, it’s just she still gets nervous singing in front of other people so it’s still a rare occasion. His favorite is when she sings solo and he gets to strum along for her and really listen. Sometimes her voice cracks in a very specific way that some might find to be a flaw, but Joel would never. 

Aiden makes fun of them and calls them the ‘Von Trapp Family Singers.’ Are they a family? Joel wonders.

One day after work, Joel goes to the library to find some sheet music for a song Y/N likes. She treasures the photo-copied paper like a gift as Joel deciphers the notes he can actually read for her. She color-codes each one carefully in magic marker so she can remember the differences between them. 

The next day, Aiden burns it up with a lighter he has acquired from God knows where. Joel confiscates it – the last thing he needs is this particular child setting fires – and It doesn’t end well for Aiden. He limps for damn near a week. But some days, when Aiden is calm, he joins Y/N and Joel in front of the TV if a sports game is on. He doesn’t sit on the couch though, just the floor. He doesn’t say much to them but does get invested in the good and bad plays of each game, gets sore if his team is losing. On one particularly good day, when the Rangers hit a grand slam, and Joel was actually paying attention, he and Aiden actually high-five.  

Things are going…well? Is that the right word? It is a foreign concept for Joel. For Christmas, he gets Y/N guitar, Aiden a book on boxing so maybe he will redirect his anger into somewhere productive, and Erica a spa-day kit for 20% off that he saw at CVS (he never claimed to know what women want). Aiden is neutral, surprised, he thinks, that Joel even got him a present. Erica is actually appreciative and returns the favor with some new socks and underwear. 

“A practical gift for a practical man,” she says, kissing him on the forehead. 

Joel supposes he appreciates the gesture. 

Y/N, though, is thrilled.

“Thank you, Joel! Got you something too,” she says excitedly, bouncing up and down in her red and white pajamas.

“That’s not necessary,” Joel chides, leaning over to pick up the wrapping paper that was strewn across the living room floor. 

But secretly he is curious. He didn’t think she even had any money of her own…

Aiden opens the cover of the boxing book with disinterest, eyeing the new guitar distastefully. 

Y/N jumps up, leaves the room, and returns with a small plastic baggie in her hands. Inside are little, different bits of colored plastic clumsily and haphazardly cut into tiny, sharp-looking, badge-shaped pieces. One he recognizes is from the top of a yogurt container he put into the recycling the other day, another one from the top of a Gatorade bottle. 

“Here ya go!” 

She shoves the plastic bag into his large hands enthusiastically.

“Thank you,” Joel responds, still unsure what he was given.

It reminds him of when Sarah was young and would come home with some sort of abstract macaroni painting from kindergarten and he would nod and smile knowingly when she explained that of course it was Two dinosaurs getting married, Dad. Duh!

“You could try one on my new guitar,” she offers, a little disappointed when he doesn’t have more of a reaction. “You said you lost most of yours…”

Joel immediately feels guilty and then it clicks. She tried to make him guitar picks! His heart clenches with emotion he can not quite identify. 

He pulls a little orange one out of the bag and accidentally nicks the edge of his finger. Because of the way it was cut, no doubt with uncoordinated child’s hands and a pair of scissors, the edges are much too sharp to serve as an actual guitar pick without damaging guitar strings or apparently Joel’s finger. Dumb kid. But he’s beyond honored anyone would take the time to do such a thoughtful thing for him. 

He hisses softly and sucks the blood off his finger.

“Oops,” she says, horrified. “Shoot. Sorry, I–”

“‘S no trouble,” he interjects dismissively. “Love ‘em. Was my fault anyway. I’mma be honest with you though, sweetheart; don’t think the guitar strings can handle these babies.”

“Oh,” she says softly, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “Oh, yeah, okay...”

She deflates, looking down at the carpet.

Joel selfishly lets her be sad for a beat before swooping back in to be the one to save the day.

“But here’s what I’ll do…”

She looks back up at him with an intoxicating kind of hope in her eyes.

He takes his wallet out of his back pocket and slips the orange pick into the photo slot next to the picture of Sarah. He returns the wallet back into his pants. 

Y/N positively beams. Brighter than the sun, even, Joel thinks.

Aiden yawns purposefully loudly and rolls his eyes. Erica looks touched and maybe even a little proud of her choice in men. But Joel didn’t do it for them. The only reaction in the world he cares about is hers.

Y/N is still grinning, bouncing on the balls of her feet again. But then she does something new: she leans in and hugs him, wrapping her little arms around his waist, burying her face in his flannel shirt, pressing against his tummy.

The world stops for Joel. 

At first, he just hangs there limply, awkwardly. Literally forgets what one is supposed to do in such a situation, but then instinct kicks in and he wraps his arms around her too and squeezes ever so slightly. It’s a more cautious hug than Sarah would have given him – she would have squeezed him half to death – but Y/N is still holding him. Someone small and warm is holding onto him for the first time in what feels like an eternity. And just like that his past is rhyming with his present and it is the most beautiful sound Joel Miller has ever heard. 

Joel Miller is not a good man, no, but maybe, just maybe, he thinks he could be one for Y/N. 

***

Joel tries to be good. He does. His first order of business is stop beating on Aiden – especially in front of Y/N. No amount of violence towards the kid seems to do any good anyway – he still hurts her. And Joel is sick of bandaging her up and wiping the blood from her cheeks; something has to change. Not that he wouldn’t do it a thousand times if he had to. He’d do anything for the girl, that he is sure of. And the truth is, Aiden is close to getting big enough to really fight back. And Joel knows if Aiden really lays a hand on him, he’s not sure he will be able to control himself enough to not inflict permanent damage. And he doesn’t want that. Truly.

So at first, Joel thinks about having Erica send him away to a wilderness camp for troubled children or some such program he sees mentioned on reruns of Dr. Phil. She has the money to do it too. But she won’t send him away. She refuses, loves him too much. Protecting Y/N seems as far down on her list of priorities as ever. She is useless at disciplining him, always has been, so it is up to Joel to find another solution. So the next thing he tries is to set the boy up in boxing classes. This is risky since it might just teach him new ways to hurt Y/N, but at least it will be a place to direct his anger.

It works for a while, to his and Y/N’s immense relief, but that leaves Joel nowhere to take out his anger. He tries to ignore it at first and shove it down, but it starts to come out in little ways. At work, he barks at a customer who locks his keys in the car he’s trying to fix. At home, he shouts at Erica for missing Y/N’s school play. The rage leaks out of him, pours off his entire being. He tries jerking off more to increasingly violent porno magazines to calm himself down since Erica is sure not satisfying him. It doesn’t do enough though, not really. Finally, he tries boxing at the local gym himself, but it is not enough either. Boxing has rules. The first sorry sucker he gets in the ring with, he beats to the point of unconsciousness. Two men have to pull him off to get him to stop. They kick him out immediately.

So Joel tries going to the bar after work with the guys from the shop and drinking a little to take the edge off. That actually helps somewhat. He’s careful about it, never comes home drunk, never drinks in front of Erica or the kids. But what helps the most are the bar fights. He’s careful about that too. Only fights the assholes, which there are many of. Switches up the bars he goes to. But some motherfucker slaps a girl's ass without permission? Joel’s on him in seconds, watching like a predator from the shadows. Some dude throws a drink in the bartender’s face? Joel clobbers him half to death. And sometimes? People in the bar applaud him, even cheer him on. It’s probably because they’re intoxicated, but that’s how he justifies it to himself like he’s some kind of goddamn vigilante. Deep down he knows he is something much, much uglier. But at least he’s not doing it to Aiden, a child. And more importantly, at least it is away from Y/N.

***

One day, Y/N falls sick. It starts out as what seems like a cold with a nasty cough. Kids are little germ factories, Joel knows that. He tells himself it is nothing to worry about – that all kids get sick sometimes. The first few days she lies on the couch like a zombie, coughing incessantly into her elbow and sleeping a lot. She snores ever so slightly which he finds charming. Joel stays home from work with her because Erica has to be in court and they watch lots of nature documentaries and daytime talk shows. 

Then the coughing gets worse and Joel’s brain stops functioning properly and he has trouble explaining why. He feels more on edge, more agitated. Erica takes Y/N to the doctor and comes back with a diagnosis: walking pneumonia. Nothing too serious, lots of kids get it. She is prescribed antibiotics and is supposed to drink lots of fluids and wait it out. But when Erica tells Joel the news of what the doctor told her he is holding a glass of water and it shatters in his large hand, cutting the skin of his middle finger.

“Fuck!” he yells. 

And he cannot articulate precisely why, but he feels good that there is a justified reason to yell. 

Erica wipes his hand and cleans the glass up.

“Gotta go to court again today, honey,” she says like everything is fine and normal. “Can you look after her today? Call in sick? She’s in bed. Going through it.”

Joel nods and she is gone like this whole thing is nothing. Like her precious, living breathing child is not suffering in the room above his head.

He climbs the stairs and enters Y/N’s room. He doesn’t often spend much time there. The walls are painted pink and differently shaped dolls and stuffed animals line the white vanity across from her canopied bed. He does not think he has ever seen Y/N play with any of those specific toys, come to think of it, or express any interest in the color pink (no doubt Erica’s secret passion for interior design rearing its ugly head). He vows silently, one day, to paint the walls any color she wants. 

But there she is, sprawled out in her bed coughing a nasty cough. Something shifts inside Joel at the sound. She looks unwell and weak and so small. 

“Hey, honey,” he says softly, almost robotically. 

Something is not right. He sits on the edge of her bed, feels her burning forehead. He takes her temperature gently with the thermometer that goes in her ear. He feels that weird sensation like he’s been here before even though he has hardly ever entered her bedroom. One hundred and four degrees Fahrenheit it reads when it beeps. Joel swallows a lump in his throat that he didn’t realize was there.  

She coughs pathetically. She looks out of it, her eyes far away. Joel’s heart throbs painfully.

Y/N is mumbling something incoherent now. Joel leans a little closer so he can decipher the words.

He makes out something like: No, Dad. Don’t. Stop, please. Please, not tonight. 

Joel stops breathing. 

She must be delirious from the fever. 

And then she’s crying. Quietly, but crying all the less. And this time, unlike every time he has seen her tears before, she sobs. Actually makes noise, her chest wracked with it. 

Then she coughs so hard she starts to wheeze and it hits Joel so ferociously he practically loses his grip on reality.

When Sarah was sick she had leukemia, a blood cancer. And cancer requires treatment. Expensive treatment. But of course, Joel hadn’t cared. He would have sold every item he owned to save his child, would have traveled to the ends of the earth if he had to, done literally any and everything in his power to protect her. So he paid for most of her chemotherapy with high hopes. Desperate hopes, but high ones. It had been her best shot at getting better according to the doctors. And the thing about chemo is, the side effects can literally be deadly. Joel is not a man of science, but the doctor explained that those drugs kill the bad cells that make up the cancer, but also the good ones. It fucks with your immune system, weakens you. Makes you lose your hair, vomit, and or be so weak you can barely walk. All that happened to Sarah. Joel felt like a traitor taking her to those treatments. Logically, he knew they were necessary, but he always felt like he was the one doing those awful things to her. It eviscerated him, left him raw and empty, and helpless like a child.

But in the end, it was the pneumonia that killed her. Her body couldn’t fight it off. She’d died in a hospital bed, Joel at her side, holding her hand, unable to do a single damned thing except scream .

Y/N coughs again, simultaneously pulling him from his thoughts and throwing him back into them. His heart is pounding in his chest to Do something! But there is nothing to be done, nothing he can do! Why can’t he ever seem to protect her?

She looks up just then, notices him for the first time since he entered the room, still crying feebly.

“He hurt me,” she whispers up at him, her eyes glazed over and glistening with tears. She reaches out for a handful of his dark blue work shirt and pulls it tightly to her. “He hurt me. And I couldn’t–I c-couldn’t…”

And then he is holding her, not quite sure how, but he is holding her trembling body to his chest and he will not let her go. Not for the world, not for anyone. He will not lose this child. He wraps his arms around her, holds tight. He will keep her safe, no matter the cost. 

“It’s okay, babygirl,” he whispers. “I got you.”

***

Joel and Erica get married that spring. They agree on a private ceremony in front of a judge with only Y/N and Aiden in attendance. When Aiden hears the news, he throws a fit, He breaks dishes and punches a hole in the TV set which sets Joel’s teeth on edge. But Y/N is overjoyed. In the end, he and Joel adorn what Joel considers monkey suits and Erica wears a beautiful white dress that accentuates her figure. Y/N wears a frilly pink dress and carries a basket of pink roses. Joel never thought he’d be a married man and yet here he is. He imagines Sarah in attendance too and his heart aches. This is his life now. 

He refuses to wear a ring.

***

Time passes. Long stretches of time where things feel–dare he think it–normal.

 Aiden doesn’t beat Y/N, but begins to get into fights at school. Joel saves his violence for the bar scene which he begins frequenting more often. 

Erica starts working later, gets promoted in her job. Fucks Joel less and less, not that he cares very much. 

Joel goes to back-to-school nights and family cookouts. He teaches Y/N to play the guitar and how to fix car motors. In both these activities, she is no natural, but she tries her best and listens well. She smiles more than he’s ever seen. He drives her to sleepovers and Aiden to boxing practice. He paints her bedroom walls orange.

Things feel stable.

Two Christmases pass.

And then things take a downturn.

***

One evening, Joel returns home from work later than usual. When he arrives home in his truck, he notices an expensive sports car in the driveway. Erica has affluent friends, sure, but he’s never seen this particular car before. Something about that doesn’t sit right with him.

He opens the front door with a creak and Erica intercepts him before he can make it to the dining room table for dinner. She presses a hand to his forearm bulking with muscle.

“Don’t freak out,” she whispers urgently. 

Joel stops and hears the sounds of people eating dinner and a man’s raspy voice speaking.

“Freak out about what?”

He makes his way past her to the dining room. He sees a man he does not immediately recognize sitting at the head of the table, Y/N is flanking one side of the table next to him and Aiden the other. He is conventionally handsome and wearing an expensive pinstripe suit. When he looks up, he smirks at Joel. Joel thinks he looks kind of like Aiden if you were to squint. And then he understands who he is.

“The fuck are you doing in my house?” he growls, lunging forward.

“ Your house?” the man smirks again, unflinching. 

He looks Joel over, examining his mechanic’s uniform, the grease stain on Joel’s cheek. 

Erica grabs Joel. She pulls him back out into the hallway.

“Tell him he’s not welcome here,” Joel snarls, trying to get a look at the man over Erica’s shoulder. 

She pushes him backward gently. Instantly, he is worried for Y/N, for all intents and purposes alone in there with the man who abused her and this entire goddamn family for that matter. He catches a glance at her and she looks terrified . Aiden, conversely, Joel sees, looks like he just won the lottery, staring up at his dad in adoration. Joel doesn’t think he has ever seen him look so happy.

“This is important to them,” Erica snaps quietly. “That’s their father. He has a right–”

“Get him out of here or I’ll kill him,” Joel says deadly quietly. “He what? Doesn’t show up for over three years and you think that–”

“I know that he has a right to speak to them. I am their mother and they need a sense of closure. Aiden needs this. So you will sit down at that table and have an amicable dinner or so help me God, Joel.”

Erica never speaks to him like this. He is shocked.

“Fine,” he snarls after a while, his chest heaving. 

He can hardly think straight while Y/N is in there alone with that excuse for a man. Better he be close to protect her instead of thrown out of the house.

He walks back in with Erica, who sits next to Y/N, leaving Joel nowhere to go but next to Aiden.

“I’m Derek,” the children’s father says, leaning over the food Erica has prepared to shake Joel’s hand. 

Joel doesn’t take it.

“And you must be Joe? The new husband.”

“Joel,” he replies shortly.

He looks over at Y/N who is trying to be brave, he can tell, but deep in her eyes, looks petrified.

They eat dinner in tense silence until Derek breaks it and begins bragging about his golf club record, the latest client he’s been representing, his new girlfriend, Sylvia.

“See, she’s helping me become a better man,” Derek insists with a forkful of steak. “I know I haven’t always been…the greatest of fathers or partners, but she really convinced me coming here would be a good thing. That it would be healing. You guys will meet someday, I’m sure.”

Joel leans forward toward Derek, reeling at the idea that this man could possibly be back in the picture of his family’s life, but Erica reaches under the table and squeezes his knee in a death grip and Joel holds himself back.

Aiden hangs on his father’s every word. Erica looks somewhat intrigued after she lets go of her husband’s leg. Y/N screams silently at Joel, who tries his best to communicate without words that he will keep her safe.

“And I know I’ve missed quite a bit,” Derek continues. “Which is why I brought these. Sylvia’s idea, really.”

He reaches down toward his feet and pulls out a fancy golden gift bag and takes out two presents. He hands one to Aiden and the other one to Y/N. Aiden rips his open excitedly. Inside is a hunting knife with a red handle. 

Great, Joel thinks.

Y/N doesn’t move though, stopped like a deer in the headlights.

“Open it, girl,” Derek sneers.

She looks over at Joel. 

“Go on, baby,” he says softly, heat pumping through his blood.

She unwraps the pink wrapping paper and finds a Barbie doll in a clear plastic box. Joel has never seen her play with dolls at all come to think of it. 

“Isn’t that thoughtful?” Erica smiles cautiously.

“Thanks, Dad,” Aiden says enthusiastically. “Can’t wait to show the guys at ROTC.”

“Good for you, son,” Derek grins. “Serving our country is the highest of honors.”

Joel suddenly tries not to think about Tommy blasted to bits halfway across the world in Afghanistan, his body in such bad condition all that he got left of his baby brother was a finger and two bent dog tags.  

Aiden beams.

“Well,” Derek barks, eyeing Y/N distastefully. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” he taunts. 

Joel sees where Aiden gets it from. This arrogant, bullying behavior. He shifts in his seat, ready to strike if necessary.

“Thanks,” she says very quietly. 

Derek grins in a kind of satisfaction that makes Joel want to go over there and punch his daylights out. He almost does too until Erica kicks his shin beneath the table and he controls himself. 

Y/N frowns. She looks over at Joel, then back at her father. Something ripples across her face, but it goes so quickly Joel cannot assign any meaning to it. But she looks ever so less scared somehow, more angry almost, but not quite.

And then after about ten minutes of somewhat peaceful eating and Derek making Aiden and Erica laugh with stupid anecdotes from his court cases while Joel and Y/N exchange looks, it happens.

Y/N’s hand reaches forward and knocks against her glass of coke. It goes flying over in Derek’s direction and drenches him in the sticky liquid, staining his suit.

“Sorry, Dad!” she squeaks immediately. “Oh my god, I–”

“You little slut!” he roars in response, almost like a reflex, backhanding Y/N across the face with lightning speed and accuracy. “Do you know how much this fucking suit cost!?”

The force of the blow is so strong it knocks Y/N from her chair onto the ground.

Before a coherent thought can even go through Joel’s head he is on the other man, slamming him up against the wall behind him by the throat.

“Joel, don’t you dare!” Erica yells, but it is too late.

Joel sees red and can’t exactly recall what he does next, but it goes something like this:

He squeezes around Derek’s throat and bangs his head backward against the wall a few times. The other man tries to get a punch in, but Joel ducks and kicks him in the balls. Derek crumples to the ground and Joel gives his chest another hard kick. He whines pathetically. 

Aiden gets up then, but Erica uses all of her strength to pull him back before he can get involved in the mix. He resists, shouts something that Joel cannot make out, but Erica manages to keep him from the two men with a great amount of effort and struggle. 

Derek is on the floor now and Joel is straddling him, landing punch after ruthless punch down onto his head. His nose begins to bleed, but Joel keeps punching. 

“HOW DARE YOU?” he roars down at the trembling, gushing man on the floor.

There is so much blood splurting all over his face, dripping down onto his expensive stained suit, and the floor that Derek almost stops looking like Derek. Joel sees Aiden’s face in his features. And then there is so much blood that it could be anyone’s face screaming back at him for mercy. It could be those creepy, asshole men at the bar. It could be the much bigger kid who always used to beat up Tommy every day in the schoolyard. It could be that damned head doctor who let his babygirl die. It could even be his no-good, bastard, alcoholic papá . 

He turns his head ever so slightly while still delivering punches. Erica has Aiden in a bear hug. She is screaming for Joel to stop. Aiden is bellowing something that sounds like, You bastard, I’ll kill you! Get off of him! I’ll kill you! And then Joel sees Y/N still on the floor from where she was knocked. Her face is still turned in the same direction it was slapped into, but she is not crying or screaming. Her eyes are dancing.

They connect with Joel’s. 

He knows he is supposed to be a good man for her, but she doesn’t seem to mind his deviant behavior. He stops then, though, because otherwise he thinks he will kill the man and he doesn’t want Y/N to experience that. He steals a glance at her again and she looks ever so slightly disappointed, but her wide-eyed expression tells Joel that Christmas has come early this year. She sends him a look of gratitude and Joel thinks that maybe he did act like a good man for her after all in the case of this vile, pathetic person who is supposed to be her father. 

 Finally, Joel stands up. He walks over and reaches out a bloody hand to Y/N and pulls her gently from the ground. Even after she’s standing upright she doesn’t let go of him.

Derek gets up after a while, wiping his sleeve over his face to try to tame the excess blood. Joel thinks that maybe he broke the man’s nose. He feels not a shred of remorse. The other man spits on the ground at Joel’s feet and leaves without saying goodbye to his ex-wife or children, slamming the front door behind him.  

Erica is not pleased with Joel’s behavior. Aiden is shouting and screaming. He breaks a plate by throwing it onto the floor with a loud crash. Joel leans over and grabs the knife his father gave him and sticks it in his front pocket so Aiden doesn’t feel tempted to use it. Y/N’s small hand is still in his. 

When Aiden is coherent enough to listen to instructions and all screamed out, Erica sends the children upstairs to bed. 

Joel tries to walk Y/N up to bed to tuck her in, but Erica stops him.

“ Not you,” she growls at Joel. 

She is livid in a way Joel has never seen before. For a moment, he seriously wonders if this is the end of their relationship. 

The kids scamper upstairs and Erica yells at Joel for ages. 

At a certain point, he stops listening. He doesn’t try to argue back. Doesn’t care to. He is actually calm now, though his chest is still heaving from the exertion, more calm than he’s been in ages. He knows that she will never understand why he had to do what he did to Derek. She lives in another reality where his violence is not acceptable if she has to bear witness to it. She doesn’t care about Y/N the way she is supposed to. Never has. Doesn’t know or see her. Not the way Joel does. Has too big a soft spot for Aiden. Tolerated Joel’s violence toward him though like a coward. Maybe deep down she knew he needed some kind of discipline? But when Joel lays a hand on her scumbag of an ex-husband that’s what’s too far? When he hurt her own daughter? When Joel himself was responsible for hurting her own precious son? Where was her outrage then? 

But he voices none of this. Pushes it down. He cannot lose her. Not this house, not the kids, not the financial security. Never Y/N. 

Erica banishes him to the couch for the first time in their relationship. Joel doesn’t mind. 

Hours later, late into the night, he hears soft footsteps walking down the stairs. He rolls over on the sofa to see who is approaching. He wonders if it is Erica there to apologize because he knows her well enough to know by now that she will forgive him eventually. She will forgive anything it seems. But it is not Erica at all.

“Joel?” a little voice asks quietly. “You up?”

“Yeah, baby,” he replies. “You okay? I’m so sorry he pulled that shit on you.”

Y/N shrugs. 

“Sorry I…I didn’t stop it before it happened,” he admits like a secret. 

She shrugs again.

“‘M sorry she made you sleep on the couch and all,” she replies.

“‘S no trouble. I don’t mind.”

“But it’s my fault you got in trouble in the first place.”

“Y/N, you ain’t done nothing wrong,” Joel tells her seriously. 

It’s hard to see her in the dark, but he thinks she’s grimacing guiltily. 

“I just wanted to say…” she begins hesitantly. “Thanks for like sticking up for me and all that. You…you’re the only one who does.”

Joel hides a smile from his babygirl. Something inside him likes being that person for her, he cannot lie to himself. Likes being the one she can count on. 

“You were like some MMA fighter,” she continues. “But then all the blood was like in The Shining .”

One day, not long ago, Joel had fallen asleep on the couch when The Shining came on and Y/N had watched the entire thing out of her own free will. That movie had frightened the shit out of him as a kid!

“I’m sorry if I scared you, sweetheart.”  

“You didn’t,” Y/N replies matter-of-factly.  “I wasn’t scared of what you did for a second…I know that’s messed up, but I kinda wanted you to…” 

She trails off.

Joel understands. 

“I kinda, please don’t get mad, but I sorta knocked the cup over on purpose,” she admits.

Joel’s eyebrows go way up on his forehead in surprise.

“It’s just,” she babbles quickly in self-defense. “Mom and Aiden were like giggling and hanging onto every dumb thing he said and it scared me. I thought they might let him keep coming around and start liking him again. And I also knew he hadn’t changed too. I could tell on account of how he was looking at me in that same mean way he always did. And I also knew you’d save me like you always do and you had this angry look in your eyes. I knew what you would do. I could feel it in my gut…”

“You little shit!” Joel smirks. 

He has to give her credit where credit was due – that was incredibly shrewd. Dangerous, but oh so clever. She played everyone in that room like a fiddle. Joel is honestly kind of proud.

“You mad?” she asks tentatively, biting her bottom lip.

“Nah,” Joel grins. “At you? Never. You shouldn’t have had to let him hurt you to get him away from you, but you protected yourself and that’s the most important thing. If I had to do it over, I would.”

Y/N smiles. 

She’s a fucked up little girl, but Joel is a fucked up man, and they both live in a fucked up world.

“Got your back,” he grunts. “Remember that. Now scurry along back to bed and get some rest.”

“G’night, Joel.”

*** 

Time passes. 

Erica forgives Joel of course and Derek never comes around again. 

Y/N and Aiden grow bigger. 

They go on camping trips and Joel teaches Y/N and Aiden how to fish. Never thought he would see the day where Aiden was willingly listening to his instructions, but the day comes anyway. Of course, the boy’s favorite part is cutting up the bloody fish guts like Joel’s used to be as a child. Y/N likes the part where you wait for the fish to bite. She sits next to Joel on the grassy river bank, the sun shining down on the lazy lake they are camping by, and smiles softly to herself.

Another two Christmases pass.

All the while, Joel is visiting the bar more and not necessarily to drink. His violent streak is getting worse somehow. He thinks, though he’s no goddamn shrink, that it might have something to do with the fact that he and Erica are not having any sex. Their relationship is still amicable and she is still sweet to him, and he tries his best to be to her too, but in the bedroom is mostly crickets. Joel jerks off, of course he does, but his fist is no substitute for a warm body. 

Joel causes such a scene at the bar he frequents the most, that the cops have to be called. He ditches the place before he can get arrested, but he’s getting worried about his behavior. Something must change.

So then come the women. They practically throw themselves at him. Never has he thought he was that attractive until women literally offer themselves up to him on a silver platter after saving them from some drunken creep. Joel had always declined until now. But Joel is only a man. He fucks them rough and dirty (with their permission of course – Joel is not a good man, and a lot of things, but he isn’t a fucking rapist) in the bathroom stalls, in the alleyways. In the moment it feels good and helps him let off some steam, but after he feels guilty. And it doesn’t satisfy him much more than with Erica if he really thinks about it. One thing that Erica has over these women who let him act out his violent self is the look of devotion in her eyes. That’s always the thing that gets Joel to cum in the end when he does get to fuck her.

 He would leave her, she isn’t that special to him if he’s honest, but she offers him a twofold sense of stability he has never known in his life. The first fold is the financial stability that has evaded him all of his days. The second is the feeling of family . Something so mundane and normal. And despite her flaws, she treats him so well – better than Sarah’s mother ever did. And most importantly, he doesn’t think he could leave Y/N. Not now. Not when she looks at him like he is the universe. Not even Aiden whom Joel has (begrudgingly) begun to see the traces of himself in. 

***

This particular muggy, summer day begins normally. Joel goes to work, fixes a Chevy Impala’s fluid tank. And then he walks in with an old, beat-up Honda Accord. 

His name is David, and Joel has heard of him through murmurings and bar stories and whispers at community barbeques. He’s a notorious neighborhood legend, whose house kids cross the street to avoid. He is the boogeyman at the end of the cul-de-sac. 

The story is, though through the many versions Joel has heard some of the details get muddled, that he kidnapped and raped a twelve-year-old girl (that part all versions agree on). Some say he was supposed to have ten years in prison, others say twenty, but whatever the number he got out in one for “good behavior.” In jail, he supposedly devoted his life to God and became a preacher.

Joel doesn’t want to help him, but his boss hisses at him that money is money and he’s going to serve the man whether Joel likes it or not. 

There’s something wrong with the exhaust pipe, so Joel bends down and takes a look at it. He opens the trunk and sees a box of Bibles next to a plastic bag of zip ties. His blood runs cold.

“The fuck is this shit doing in your car?” he growls, referring to the zip ties.

“The Bible is the word of God, Mr. Miller,” David replies, eyeing Joel’s nametag. “Would you like one? I’m always trying to spread The Good Word.” 

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” he spits, looking over to make sure his boss is not watching. 

“If you must know, though it’s none of your business, those zip ties are for my garden to help hold up my plants. They are remarkably useful,” David smiles sickeningly politely. 

And that’s when Joel loses it just a little.

He picks up the ties and pockets them.

“Listen here, you pedophile piece of shit,” he snarls. “If I hear about you stepping one goddamned pinky-toe out of line–”

“Hey, Joel!” A little voice calls.

The breath is knocked from Joel’s lungs.

Y/N bounds up to them holding a brown paper bag out of nowhere. 

“You forgot your lunch! Mom dropped me off so you could have it. It’s tuna though. I hate hate tuna. But you’ll eat anything so I hope it’s good for you at least,” she babbles.

“Baby,” Joel says very quietly, his heart thrumming in his ribcage. “Right now’s not a great time. Why don’t you go on home and I’ll catch up with you later?”

Then she notices David. By the fact that she doesn’t immediately leave, Joel determines she has no clue who he is.

“Hello, young lady,” David smiles, eyeing Joel knowingly. “I’m Pastor David.”

“Uh, hi,” she says.

Joel thinks he might actually kill him.

“Would you like something to take home with you?” he asks.

Y/N blinks in confusion as Joel steps in front of her.

“She’ll be going now, won’t you Y/N?” Joel suggests dangerously.

“Here,” David says before she can respond.

He hands her a black-covered bible.

Y/N takes it, looks at the cover, and laughs. Joel and David both look down at her in surprise.

“No offense, ‘Pastor David,”’ she smirks. “But I don’t believe in that shit. Here, you can have it back,” she offers.

He takes back the book somewhat defeatedly. And Joel grins internally.

“Bye, Joel,” she tells him, still smirking. 

She side-hugs him quickly and returns to Erica’s car. 

“How dare you even look at her–” Joel booms at the sad, pathetic excuse for a man once she is out of earshot. 

His hands are clenched into fists and they are shaking. Every part of him is on fire. 

“I think I’ll be going now,” David interjects lightly. “I can see my business isn’t welcome here. You have a beautiful daughter, Mr. Miller. Quite a mouth on her. Shame if something were to happen to her…Oh, the things someone like me could make her believe…”

Joel reaches back his fist to punch, to pummel, to kill, but suddenly, another hand grabs his and holds it in place. Joel’s boss has materialized behind him and is holding him back. Good thing too. It’s probably the only thing that saves Joel’s career and David’s life. 

David winks and drives away as the boss begins to reprimand Joel who is still shaking and fuming.

All he knows is this: If anyone touches his babygirl he will not hesitate to put them six feet under, no matter the cost to himself. He will not hesitate to get blood on his calloused hands. He will not hesitate to kill. And this time? His baby will not sustain a single scratch . He will not wait for her to get hurt before he acts. 

***

Joel wants nothing more than to go home and spend time with his babygirl and wife and even his step-son if he will allow, but there is blood popping and oozing and broiling and churning under his skin like billowing, bubbling lava. If he doesn’t do something about it soon he will explode worse than a volcanic eruption so he heads to the seediest bar he can think of. He makes his way inside and sits right up at the bar, already occupied by a few people. He orders a drink (his usual: whiskey on the rocks) and waits for the impending opportunity for violence he is sure is lying in wait.

He cannot believe the shit that came out of ‘Pastor-fucking-David’s’ sick, perverted mouth and that he almost lost his job over it. He lets that thought charge him up into a rage, his fists clenched so tightly they are beginning to ache in the joints. He cannot believe that disgusting little fucker had the audacity to say that horrible scummy bullshit in his presence when he would do anything to protect that innocent child. He takes a drink of his whiskey and knocks it back in one gulp. He would do anything , ‘Lord’ only knows. He snickers to himself sinisterly. 

And while he’s on the topic, fuck God! When had He ever done a single damn good thing for Joel his entire miserable life except maybe to give him Sarah and then take her away like she was nothing and not the entire light of the universe wrapped into a small, vulnerable person? Joel doesn’t know much about the bible, truth be told, but he remembers a few things from his Sunday school days. He remembers that people are created in the image of God and the stories he remembers most are from the Old Testament which heavily featured a God of absolute rage. Maybe that is the way he is god-like, built of anger and revenge and wrath and the sick, pathetic hunger for power that lurks inside most people. 

But he also remembers Jesus being meek and mild. Joel never understood that desire until he had Sarah and then Y/N in his care. If Joel could snap his fingers and make himself some fundamentally kind and caring man he would, but he can’t. Joel Miller is not a good man. He tried to be for Y/N, he truly did, but look at everything he’s done in the time he’s known her: he used Erica to get financial stability and roof over his head, he’s cheated on her numerous times, he beat Aiden, a child, and everyday the weight of that guilt grows greater as he begins to truly understand how wrong that was, and he beat his babygirl’s pathetic excuse for a father (but still her father) in front of her. He also beat people in bar fights and that time at the gym. And the thing is: is he even a little bit sorry about any of it – except for maybe what he did to Aiden? No, not even a little. And he’d do all of it again if it could mean getting to spend time with his babygirl, Y/N, again. His babygirl who FUCKING DAVID tried to threaten!

And the problem is: who knows what that fucker is capable of? The police and the judicial system let him out after one year which can only be described as a colossal moral failure and a massive miscarriage of justice. It wouldn’t take much for David to really figure out where they lived and grab Y/N and throw her in his trunk like he did that poor other little girl. Maybe that’s paranoid, but Joel knows better than most that when a man wants to do a dark thing he will find a way to do it. Joel does not want to live his life constantly looking over his shoulder as some horrendous pedophile lives freely. 

And then he turns his head to look down at the rest of the fairly busy bar and he sees him . None other than David himself, drinking a beer. Joel cannot believe his luck. It is like all of the light in heaven has aligned to give him such a gift. A part of him is screaming to not engage because Joel is sure he could kill him for what he said about Y/N. But the rest of him is already standing up and grabbing David by the shoulder and–

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the fuck out of here now ,” he snarls. “Almost lost my job because of you, you sick fuck. You’re lucky I give you a warning and don’t wring your neck on the fucking spot.”  

David turns around, Joel’s fingers digging into his shoulder.

“Proverbs 24:1 and 2,” he quotes calmly. “‘Do not envy wicked men or desire their company; for their hearts devise violence, and their lips declare trouble.’”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means perhaps I will be leaving. I don’t care to spend my time with wicked men such as yourself. And I have many preparations to make for what is to come. How is your daughter doing since we last met?”

Joel’s heart runs cold. 

“Get my baby’s name out of your goddamned mouth .” 

“Hope we run into each other soon,” David grins as he gets off the barstool and dislodges himself from Joel’s grip. “There is a lot I could teach her.”

He turns to leave. Disgusting coward, Joel thinks. He could let the man go. But then what? Live in fear of him? Let his precious Y/N live in fear of him? Joel is tired of living in fear, of resigning to a cruel man in a cruel world, and he will never do that or let Y/N do that ever again. 

And then David leans in so close that Joel can smell the alcohol on his breath and the sweat on his skin.

“Can’t stop thinking about her pretty little hands around my–”

Joel doesn’t let him finish. In that moment he knows what will transpire. He picked this seedy-ass bar for a reason: so that no one will bother to stop him.

He lands the first punch with ease, doesn’t even feel the pain till minutes later. The force of the blow to David’s head is so strong he slams down into the ground. It is so violent that David’s eyelid starts to bleed and the skin around the impact spot becomes puffy and dark. 

David shouts for help, but no one in this place gives a fuck and even if they did everybody knows who he is and what he did so they don’t give a shit two times over. 

Joel continues the assault. Punch after punch reigns down on the other man as blood begins to coat his features. David tries to get a punch or two into Joel’s stomach, but Joel straddles each of his biceps and holds him down so he can continue hitting. The longer Joel hits, the better he feels. This time is different. This time he does not see the features of every man he’s ever hated in the face of his victim. This time he sees only David’s disgusting smirk in his mind’s eye. This time he only thinks about how he is saving Y/N from a lifetime of fear and cruelty. This time Joel will not let his adversary get a strike in first. This time he will be the one to stop the fate of impending devastation that lies in the palms of David’s shaking and broken hands. This time he can save her . 

When Joel is done with his hands, he is panting heavily. He moves on to his feet, kicking the man’s gut sadistically, his trembling hands, his face. Crunch , goes David’s skull. And then he is not moving or breathing.

Joel stops.

A lick of fear trails against the inside of his stomach, but the rage, always the rage warms his stomach like a rush of flames.

So he keeps going. He bends back down and squeezes the man’s throat just to make sure. It’s good he did too because David’s bloodshot, viens-having-burst eyes snap open and David makes a pathetic little squealing noise and Joel squeezes harder, rougher, with more conviction.

In the end, it takes longer than he thought it would. 

Joel only stops when he hears sirens blaring in the distance. He looks up for the first time since the assault started and sees all of the patrons staring at him in revulsion and fear. The bartender actually has the phone in her hand. Joel guesses she was the one to finally call the cops. He guesses he was so sadistic and violent that even this shitty place had seen enough. He thinks to run, briefly, but where would he run to? Everything he has ever wanted in life is now going to be closed off to him. But he saved Y/N and that makes everything worth it. It has to have been worth it.

Joel puts two scarred, calloused fingers to David’s pulse point, as blood (his and David’s) drips down from his knuckle onto the wooden floor and feels nothing.

When the cops handcuff him and take him away, he doesn’t resist. He comes quietly. He cannot ever really be a good man for Y/N, he understands that now, but at least now she and he may know some peace of mind after what he’s done.

***

The time leading up to the trial is a blur. 

Erica pays for an excellent lawyer, but divorces him on the spot. It seems there are some things even she will not forgive, and apparently murder is one of them. She allows the children to see him one last time in cold, sterile police interrogation room. A court-appointed child advocate social worker must be present. They allow him to have his handcuffs taken off for the first time since he was arrested. The kids are told he accidentally killed someone in a bar fight and for legal reasons he leans into the “accidental” part. 

Aiden comes in first. He knew who David was and tells Joel he did the right thing. Joel is surprised. He reaches out a limp hand, dirt caked under his fingernails, and shakes Joel’s for the first time since they’ve known each other and they part ways on good terms.

“You’re not my dad,” Aiden tells him quietly. “But you always put up a good fight to be there.”

And he leaves.

Joel is more touched than he wants to believe.

Y/N’s visit is much more difficult.

“How could you!?” she screams, standing by the door the second she sees him as he sits at the interrogation table, his chair turned toward her. 

At first Joel thinks she means how could he killl another human being. Y/N didn’t seem to know who David was after all. But that’s not what she is mad about.

“How could you leave me!?” she shouts, tears in her eyes. “You’re going to be taken away from me! Mom is leaving you because of this and that means you aren’t like my dad anymore. You’re going to forget all about me and never get to see me again because you killed some dumb man who tried to give me a bible?”

“He was not a good man,” is all Joel can say. 

He can’t be the one to tell her more, hasn’t told anyone how David had threatened her. Not even his lawyer. He doesn’t want to scare her, doesn’t want to admit to anyone he let those words even get to leave that shit stain’s mouth. 

“I don’t care!” she shouts again. “I want you!”

And then she bursts into tears and runs into his chest and Joel holds her against his orange jumpsuit and starts to feel tears trickling down his own cheeks.

“Never gonna forget about you,” he nearly scolds her into hair. “How could you ever think that, baby? You’re my babygirl. I’ll get out one day and come right back to you, understand?”

“But Mom–”

“You’ll be grown by the time I get out and won’t have to worry about what she says. But I’ll tell you this: you might feel different about me by the time your grown up and however you feel I want you to know I’ll respect that. But I ain’t gonna forget about you. Not ever.” 

“Your time is up,” the court-appointed social worker states. 

“No!” Y/N shouts, burying herself deeper into Joel’s embrace. “NO! I’m not leaving! I won’t leave you!”

Joel hugs her back tightly, crying into the top of her head as she sobs softly into his chest. 

In the end, the social worker has to pull her away as she screams.

“I love you, Y/N!” he calls to her as the social worker drags her from him. “Never gonna forget you, babygirl. Remember that.”

All Joel can hear back is a broken wail.

***

Erica attends the trial; the kids are forbidden. Joel’s defense claims it was a drunken accident and goes for manslaughter. Because he killed a known child molester he has no trouble while he waits in jail. He is even considered a hero by some. No one tries to fuck with him and that’s how Joel would prefer it since if he gets into too many fights it will just add to his sentence and he must get out and get back to his babygirl if she’ll still have him. His lawyer tells him not to mention the threats that David made toward Y/N because it will look like more of a reason that Joel would have had to intentionally kill him as opposed to accidentally like the manslaughter plea would have the court believe. Joel listens. He does exactly what he’s told because this lawyer is good and he needs to get out someday for christ sake.

In the end, he gets ten years and his lawyer tells him he could get eight for good behavior.

Eight years, if Joel can manage it.

They take him away to prison in handcuffs. Erica sobs. It is the last time he sees her.

***

Joel always wondered if his temper would land him in prison. Now that he’s here things go surpringly well. He gets a reputation for being the murderer of a child molestor and people respect him, listen to him when he bothers to speak. He keeps things in order and people start to refer to him as the “pod boss.” He also reads a lot in his cell, tries to help people with their cases and appeals if he can. And if someone steps out of line, Joel is more than happy to put them in their place so long as he can avoid attention from the guards, who he actually mostly gets along with to their faces, but behind their backs beats people to a pulp. No one ever dares to snitch on him and he is considered on the right track to get out for good behavior early. 

Time passes — painfully long stretches of time.

He has a lot of time to think, to read. He reads every book in the prison library over the time he is incarcerated. He reads parenting books, self-help books, books on trauma, books on abuse, books on anger management, books on meditation, books on spirituality (nothing sticks in that regard though, he is still furious like God, but less so these days). Somehow his anger has started to simmer down a notch.   

But he worries his babygirl will forget about him, or worse grow to hate him. He’s not sure he’ll survive that.    

Luckily, or he might have withered away and died, somehow Y/N convinces Erica to let her write him a letter once a month and have one call with him on Christmas. 

Christmases quickly become his favorite day of the year. 

Y/N writes him religiously. She talks about how angry she is at him, how she misses him, how she finally fixed the motor on Joel’s old pickup truck, how some boy gave her a love letter on Valentine’s Day, how she thinks of him every day.

Joel never tells her what David said about her, lets her believe he is just some violent, drunken idiot. He writes back how much he misses her, how he read a new book this week, how prison food is shit, how he’d probably greet that boy with a shotgun if he thinks he’s getting anywhere with his babygirl, how his whole heart beats for her.

She’s allowed to send him one photo a year, her most current school photo, and Joel hangs them on the wall of his cell so he can see her beaming at him at his highest and lowest moments along with the tiny picture of Sarah he managed to save from his wallet. 

Aiden even sends him a card each Father’s Day. It never has anything written in it except for whatever stupid pun or text the card came with, but Joel reads between the lines with that one. Each one seems to whisper to him louder and louder, I love you and I forgive you. Joel writes him back, “Thanks, kiddo. -Joel” He hope that conveys the thousands of sorrys he wants to scream from the rooftops and say straight to the boy’s face. He will someday when he gets out. He makes himself promise. He hears from Y/N when Aiden joins the marines. 

When Joel gets to actually hear Y/N’s voice on the old prison phone it’s like the most beautiful sound he has ever heard except for maybe Sarah’s voice. She babbles away about her life and what’s she’s up to and he hangs on every word like gospel. He barely gets a word in, but prefers it that way. Wishes he could hear her singing. Once, when she’s sixteen, and sounds so woefully grown up it hurts Joel’s entire heart, she hums a little absentmindedly and he can’t get the sweet sound out of his head. Her love for him never seems to waver and that is a blessing that Joel will never forget, the only thing he would thank this cruel God for. And of course, his love for her never wavers either. She is the only beacon of light for him in this dark and mundane existence. She is his everything.

***

When Y/N is eighteen and no longer under her mother’s control, she comes to visit him in person. This is the first time they have seen each other in six years. Despite their loving correspondence, Joel is nervous to see her for the first time since her childhood. He worries about how awkward it might be.

When he sees her walking into the dinky little family meeting room, his entire mode of existence changes.

She looks so beautiful, so grown-up. Sure she had always been a cute little kid, Joel always thought that, but now she is a woman. Tears come to Joel’s eyes. When her eyes connect with his, he feels so seen .

He tries to get a word out, but before he can she is running to him, into his arms and Joel has never felt something so perfect in his entire life. He knows he has never felt a love like this before. Not even with Sarah…something about this is different somehow? Joel is not too in touch with his feelings, but he’s trying to be more attentive to them these days with nothing left to do but read about such topics as “emotional regulation” and “mindfulness.” He’ll come back to this thought later though…

Y/N begins to babble into his ear, something about missing him and not wanting it to be awkward, but this is the furthest from awkward Joel has ever felt.

Joel has never been a man of many words so all he can think to say is,

“Missed you, babygirl.”

She grins at that, brighter than all the suns of all the planets in the universe (Joel has been reading about those too) and he laughs for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.

She laughs too, wipes tears from her eyes, and says,

“Missed you too, Joel. More than you know.”

Joel thinks that can’t possibly be true for that is all he has known for the last six years and possibly his entire life: missing her.

She comes once a month, drives an hour just to see him, and she tells him about college and later her very own shitty apartment. Her mother has thrown herself into her work and Aiden is serving his second tour. She makes good grades and has a stable boyfriend that treats her well, she swears. Joel couldn’t be happier for her, except the boyfriend business does make him want to crush that little fucker’s head in for some reason.

***

The last time Y/N comes to visit before his release (eight years to the day for good behavior) (she is 20 damn years old already!) something feels different to Joel. When he hugs her to greet her, he’s suddenly very aware of her body, the curves of it, her softness. Her hair smells so good, he doesn’t want to let go of her and then to his intense dismay and shock he feels himself getting a little excited down south. Immediately, he lets go of her, feeling like a pervert, praying she didn’t and doesn’t notice. He doesn’t see any obvious signs from her and the two sit down (Joel rather quickly) at the flimsy, nailed-down table and they talk of Joel’s impending release. All the while, Joel is trying to stay calm. He convinces himself it was just an accident and that he hadn’t been around any women in what felt like an eternity and that’s what  led him to get worked up. But when Y/N leaves to go home he feels a kind of dull longing in the bottom of his gut. A different kind of longing then what he had felt for a younger Y/N. Joel tells himself not to repress for the first goddamn time in his life and let himself feel. And he does. He feels butterflies and yearning and need, a great big need inside himself. And then he knows what else he feels: the gut-wrenching, unquenchable sensation of love and beneath that, primal, base, and self-loathing: desire . 

In his solo cell (that he has acquired because he is the pod boss and respected) he jerks off to those thoughts, touches himself to those feelings. When he cums unusually hard, he feels an overwhelming amount of shame. Of this, Joel knows, he will never ever tell another soul. Joel also knows he will not hurt his babygirl any more than he already has, intentionally or not, not ever. But then again, being a good, upstanding man has never really quite been in his arsenal, has it?

Tags (LMK if you wanna be tagged!): @toxicanonymity @motelprincess444 @epicrainbowsheep @anama-cara @sheepdogchick3

@denileisariver @lochnymph @mewantpeepaw @fandomdaydreamer @r3dheadedwitch

PLEASE COMMENT LIKE REBLOG IM BEGGING IM PLEADING IM CRYING

PART 2

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

[i-cant-sing]

This is going to be interesting fr, like how much differently do your Theodore treat the reader if they were childhood friends

Yesss, but like imagine Theodore being a platonic yandere for his childhood bestie Y/n. He knows you inside out and knows every struggle you've been through, all your secrets, even the ones you've never disclosed to him (yes, he was outside your window on October 12th, 2008 when you didnt come to school because you were "sick" as you had told him but had actually started your period).

Imagine just how overprotective he is, and he's so mean about it too. Its in his nature. He's glaring at you as you tell him that he had no right to beat up your date just because that man had his arm around your waist because you were okay with it. Ofc he just rolls his eyes and tells you that you're too stupid to know what guys are actually like, that you dont know about the "locker room talk" and he's just trying to keep you safe from pervs but ofc youre too "dense" to see it. You could've thought that he might be doing it because he's interested in you like that, but no, he violently cringes at the mere suggestion of your friends that you two fight like a married couple, not to mention how he treats you more like a sibling than your own. Bullying you constantly, messing up your hair, putting you in headlocks as often as he could, kicking the back of your knees to watch you flop on the ground, anything he could do to annoy you.

But he's also very helpful, yknow? He pretends like he couldnt give a rats ass about your existence but will just scoff and yank your assignment from your hands and complete it. Working on your college essay? He reads it, insults you at how stupid it is, then write one for you in one sitting, actually writing about your personal experiences that moves the admission officers to fucking tears at the pure raw emotion it draws out of them. About to leave for a date and you ripped your dress? Signs to you that this is just universe telling you to ditch the guy but then one look at your sad face and he's pulling out an emergency needle kit from his pocket and sewing it up. He'll think of another way to end your date <3

Theodore is also very possessive of you. Even as kids, he would throw sand in other kids eyes just so that theyre too busy crying to approach you and try to play with you. In highschool, he's already built like a transformer and with him having this mean look on his face, people definitely hesitated to approach you, especially when you have this brooding man standing behind you, intimidating everyone who dared to step within 5 feet of you. Now that you two are adults, and Theo is still working as a spy, he would use his skills to take out people that become a little to important to you.

I feel like Theo isn't an animal person, he is definitely not a people person, but he also doesn't care much for pets and it's not even cause his work doesn't allow him to care for pets properly but I still think that he would get a dog trained specifically to keep you out of danger. Or more particularly, keep you in home and bark (and bite/mutilate) anyone who is not him. So if you got a date, make sure he's not picking you up from home.

Definitely definitely finds a way to make you move in with him, if not live next to him. Of course, he has a different place where he keeps his work stuff and gear hidden, but he needs to live with you for his own sanity. And even though he has trackers hidden all over your clothes and belongings, he still likes to ask you where you are, what you're upto, etc, just to see if you'd lie to him. And if you do, be prepared for a very pissed off Theo who is just huffing and puffing all day because how dare you not trust him, your best friend???? Offensive.

But also, when he finds out that someone, anyone made you cry, or even is causing you to stress out, guess who's pulling out their murder gloves?

[restinslices]

Hello, I saw the publication, idea of MK1 characters with a combat medical reader, and I was wondering if you could do it. With the Lin Kuei brothers and if possible Harumi 😔☝🏻

Sorry for the bad English, it's not my mother tongue

L.N

Hey pookie. Ngl, I was having trouble making all of them different so imma pick one brother to do and if you want the rest, you can request again. Maybe spacing them out will let my brain marinate and actually work lol. Also I don't know anything about Harumi. I won't even lie to you-. Also your English is legit perfect.

I imagine that he'd meet combat medic reader at a young age

You're apart of the Lin Kuei, so he meets you when he's "adopted"

You still fight and all that jazz but you're also being trained in healing

He was adopted after his family was killed so um, yeah, he's a bit shook up and nervous

He doesn't know how he feels. He just stays in his room. He absolutely hates how everyone stares at him. He feels like he's being watched all the time

You're good friends with Bi-Han and Kuai Liang, so you're used to spending time with them at their place

I can see the first interaction being something simple. Like, his new dad (who is the Grandmaster of the clan that murdered his family) (I just CANNOT get over this shit) asks you to get him for dinner

You peek your head in his room to tell him dinner is ready. That's it. That's all.

He doesn't know who you are and honestly he has no intentions on finding out

But then over time he starts actually training, and that comes with injuries. He gets a real fucked up shoulder and is sent to your area

He's quiet the whole time for multiple reasons; he doesn't know you fr, he's still not sure about this clan, and he's watching you work your healer magic

You try to make smalltalk but he's kinda in and out of this world. Keeps zoning out. You can understand why though. Everyone knows what happened to his family

That's how your relationship is for awhile. He comes to get healed, then he leaves without really talking

Things change though when you're sent to get him for dinner again and you walk in on him crying

You're not an asshole, so you close the door behind you and sit by him

Neither of you talk. After some time you leave then come back with two plates of food

"I lied and said you were sick. Also asked if I could give you company" "Why'd you do that?" "I didn't want you to be alone in here" "Oh... thank you. Seriously" "It's all good man. You uh, wanna talk about something?

That's when the friendship truly starts. That act of kindness really sticks with him and now he truly thinks you're a good person to be around

He comes to you when he gets seriously fucked up in training or on actual missions. Sometimes he just chills out in your area and you two chat while you work on healing someone

I could see him take an interest in anatomy and shit after seeing what you do

I just see y'all vibing in your little healing hut a lot

I do think going on missions would be funny though-

"I gotta pop your shoulder back in place!" "You can't magically heal it?!" "Not this time!" "Hurry up then!" *pop* "DAMN!

"Do you get injured on purpose more when I'm here?" "I'm doing my best here"

As for when you start dating, honestly I don't see you dynamic changing much

A relationship with Tomas is like being friends but y'all hold hands occasionally

Oh and obviously you join the new clan (I am not googling how to spell that rn)

Gotta give y'all a happy ending sometimes

[berrypass-de-murdler]

59. I Yacht to Kill You for This

For one I love this title so much

And this episode is WAY, WAY too long because of how much needless book-trio lore there is

So I hope you enjoy this needlessly detailed filler episode

Featuring CHOONKERS

(I love him so much help me)

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!

The Bookers are on Chalk’s yacht. Ink is writing, Bookie is pacing, and Ivory is there. Chalk has a new scar on his nose from… something. Everyone looks distressed.

CHALK: I’m going to call over Logico. GAINSBORO: NO, NO, NOT THE LOGICO! INK: Calm down. He never did anything to you. GAINSBORO: HE stole a bookie from me :’< CHALK: His book isn’t selling very well, we need to find ideas to raise-

Ink types faster and harder.

CHALK: [looms] Are you doing- INK: Yeah. Logico’s books aren’t selling. Now I’m going to bribe him with my fancy boat so he does more shit and makes me more money. CHALK: ?? IVORY: [scoff] Ya, girl. INK: That’s all you care about isn’t it? The stupid fucking books? Everything’s just a publicity stunt to you!!  CHALK: Jobs- INK: DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A PUBLICITY STUNT?

She yeets a typewriter at him, but he jumps out of the way and it almost hits Bookie, who is traumatized.

IVORY: What the fuck did you do that for, bitch??

Ivory shoves Ink off the boat, but Chalk catches her. Bookie is a shaking mess of Gainsboro.

GAINSBORO: If you let her back on this boat I will kill you.

He fucking means it, too.

CHALK: I am very sorry.

He lets go.

IVORY: OH MY GOD!!!

Ive grabs a sharp piece of metal and stabs at Chalk a few times, before Bookie gets in her face and tries to slam his wings on her head. Lightning strikes as they cry out to the sky.

Logico FINALLY arrives, and by then someone’s dead. NOT ONE OF THE CHARACTERS, just some freak in the dining room. He sees a frazzled Bookie and a pouting Ivory. Ink is clutching onto the side of the boat, and a bloodied Chalk ‘greets’ the man.

LOGICO: What did you want me for. CHALK: Books, Logico. YOUR BOOK. LOGICO: I don’t care- CHALK: It’s not doing well, as is EVIDENT. If only we had some way of gaining publicity. Oh! One of my sailors was murdered! You could solve THAT.

The grumpy llama storms off. Ink blots into the water.

INK: [anger sounds] GROSS… LOGICO: I will rescue you.

Logico uses a fishing rod to bring her back up.

IVORY: Ugh, fr? INK: Thank you, Logico. I’m so sorry about all this.

Poor baby Bookie is sobbing.

LOGICO: What. GAINSBORO: I WON’T DO WHAT THEY MAKE ME DO, THEY’LL NEVER!

Chalk is sad looking at the precious booker. His (ancient) phone rings.

LAVENDER: CHALK DEARIE. IT’S LAVENDER. 

Chalkers’ hand shakes and he drops the phone, because he doesn’t want to do this right now.

LAVENDER: CHALK. HELLO? CHALK. CHAIRMAN. WHERE ARE YOU?? PICK UP THE PHONE, YOU IDIOT! HELLO!!!

The boi looks over the edge of the boat with the most solemnity.

LOGICO: What did you even want with me. CHALK: OH, I- YOU?? YOU THINK- OHO- I- THIS IS ABOUT YOU?? I DON’T K- 

He motions to spit on the short king like an actual llama, but covers his mouth and sobs. Logico is distracted by marot cards… just like he would be at a time like this.

He knows who did it. In the stupid fight, Chalk threw his golden pen and it somehow got wedged into a guy. The four book people look at the corpse and think… what am I doing with my life? 

CHALK: I’m so sorry… INK: …I guess I am too. IVORY: Yeah, and like, whatever, I guess.

Bookie just wants his llama boi. Any other day, Logico’s cold, unbeaten heart would be warmed by the sight, but no. Ink pulls him into a hug.

CHALK: About the books… LOGICO: I don’t care about the BOOKS.  CHALK: What do you care about, Deductive? LOGICO: HIIIIIIIM. CHALK: Oh, that would actually be great for sales… If you got bloody revenge on the guy who killed your friend… Never mind, I’ll deal with this. LOGICO: HE WAS MORE THAN A FRIEND.

Chalk gasps like a choking pigeon. He leans in.

CHALK: [whispering] F-for sales, it’s better if he’s just a friend - the last time I tried to publish a gay book I got-

Logico shuts his mouth.

The end!

Ink's theme :3 I love her so much. She's such a pure, genuine person.

Fletch helped a lot with the intro to this episode, so credit to her too <3

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Dethrone - Chapter 11

Summary: On a royal tour to celebrate their betrothal Aemond and Viktorya make some strong allies. They will be in Sunspear, Oldtown, Highgarden, and Lannisport treating with the Lords and Ladies. They only have a couple more stops on their tour before they’re wed and can’t seem to wait to enjoy each other.

Warnings: 18+, handjob, mention of murder, fingering, swearing, Jason Lannister, possessive-ish Aemond?

Authors Note: no bc I’m fr going to finish this fic soon

Word Count: 4.9??

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

We leave Storms End well before the castle is awake to start our next journey. The sun is barely cresting over the horizon when we make it to the Sea of Dorne. The air starts to get warmer the more south we go. I take off my flight jacket once the sun starts rising higher.

Vaelys playfully flies around causing me to laugh. She flies low and drags her feet in the sea causing a splash to surround us. She flies low to the water and quickly snaps fish out of the water leisurely snacking. She returns to Aemond and Vhagar once she’s satisfied and I turn and wave to Aemond. He’s leaning back lounging in his saddle and turns to smile at me and wave.

We finally make it over land and make our way to Sunspear. We fly around the coastal city taking in its beauty. We see a place marked out for us to land and we start our descent. Once our dragons meet solid ground the cheering begins from the masses. Aemond and I quickly unhook our bags and come down to solid ground and stand before our dragons.

Vaelys and Vhagar give out cry in greeting making the crowds cheer even louder. I walk over to Aemond and he takes my hand in his. Our bags are immediately being picked up and brought to carts by servants. A man with beautifully tanned skin walks to us with his arms open.

“Dorne welcomes you! We’re honored to be hosting you both.” Prince Qoren Martell greets us loudly over the crowd slightly bowing his head.

“The honor is ours.” Aemond hums and we both bow back to the Prince.

“Come let’s get you both inside.” Prince Qoren smiles and ushers us over to a carriage covered with flowing linen.

The three of us climb in and sink into the seats. I can’t help but push the curtain to the sides to take in the new scenery. The people are all waving and pushing just to get a glimpse of us.

“You have a beautiful home.” I hum in adoration turning to look at Prince Qoren.

“Coming from you, I take that as the highest compliment.” he smiles warmly, eyes crinkling.

We slowly make our way through the gates to the Keep and exit at the front doors to yet another crowd to greet us. We’re shown to our chambers for the next fortnight. Our bags have already been brought up. The servant tells us he’ll be with us for our stay and to ask our guards for him if we are to be in need of anything.

We find a sealed parchment that includes our itinerary for the next fortnight and I’m delighted to see there are days we have completely free to explore and relax.

I slip on a sky blue dress of light, breezy fabric. The neckline plunges almost down to my navel and is held together by thin silver chains. There is a long piece of fabric almost cape like that flows behind of me. Aemond wears a similar shade of blue as a loose top that is untied at the top to allow air flow. We leisurely fix each others hair and glide out to the balcony to take in the city once more.

“This is how we’re supposed to be treated, my love.” Aemond hums hugging me from behind.

We make our way out of our chambers and our guard escorts us down to the main hall. We are greeted by Qoren and he’s standing next to a beautiful woman who I’m assuming is his wife.

“I hope your accommodations are to your liking.” Qoren smiles pulling his wife to his side.

“They’re breathtaking. Thank you both for allowing us to stay with you.” I say smiling warmly.

“Thank you both for coming to visit us down here in Sunspear.” she says returning my smile.

We walk slowly in the heat to a covered villa outside to enjoy the weather. We lounge back in a day bed and allow the sea breeze to wash over us. Aemond brushes the hair out of my face and gives me a lazy kiss. We all lounge in comfortable silence as the warm breeze kisses us.

“I hope the itinerary was acceptable.” Qoren hums lying back and resting his eyes.

“Certainly. I also appreciate the free days we have to soak in the beauty of Dorne.” I can’t help my smile that appears again.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

The first week here goes by quickly. We attend meetings with the Prince and Princess to see how they run their court. They are both very welcoming and offer us advice as well. They’re not afraid to ask for help and offer suggestions to us that we can use once we return to Kings Landing.

They both give us knowing looks throughout the week that they seem to understand what this tour truly is. We all get along so well we might be the first rulers to have such a close relationship with Dorne. We invited them to Dragonstone for the ceremony and they were absolutely delighted and said they wouldn’t miss it.

Qoren sets up training sessions so Aemond and I can learn Dornish sword dancing. We’ve also been given access to their great library to see their collection. We express our gratitude for being allowed so many amazing opportunities while visiting.

On our first free day Aemond and I take to the streets to mingle with the people. The streets here are cleaner and more well kept than Kings Landing. It gives us ideas on how we can further improve our city when we rule.

We intently listen to the people and they mostly have praise for their rulers and house. The people seem so content and relaxed here. We walk hand in hand down the street and stop when we’re approached and enter friendly conversations.

Aemond has truly come out of his shell here. He’s been initiating conversations with the people and even playing with the children in the streets. My heart is filled to the brim with love and adoration seeing him be so carefree and happy.

“My love.” Aemond returns to me smiling widely.

I hum cupping his face and bringing it to mine in a chaste kiss. We walk back to the castle to start preparing for our last dinner here. It’s bittersweet knowing we leave in the morning. I’m excited to see the rest of the seven kingdoms but Dorne has truly been such a gift.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

I change into a white dress of cascading fabric. There are deep cuts up the side of my leg that travel to my hip. The sleeves are open and flow around my arms in the breeze. Aemond places a delicate silver diadem on my head and looks at me with eyes full of love.

“My beautiful Queen.” he kisses my forehead softly.

We leisurely make our way to the dining hall and are greeted by a full room. There’s thunderous cheers as we enter and walk to the head of the table by Qoren and his wife. We take our seats as Qoren rises and raises his chalice.

“On the morrow we will be saying farewell to our lovely guests. I would like to extend an everlasting invitation to visit Dorne whenever you two please.” he smiles down to us. “Let’s wish them well on their marriage,” Qoren cheers as the room combusts.

The dining hall is filled with laughter and life. Aemond and I enjoy this last dinner and soak it all in. Once dinner closes we walk back up to our chambers and begin to pack. When everything is all packed the servants come and collect them to bring down to our dragons to prepare us for our early flight.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

We’re hours into our flight to Oldtown and I’m slowly getting stir crazy. I know Aemond said this flight would probably be around twelve hours but it’s already felt like a month. I call across to him through the sky and ask if we can stop for a bit.

“My love if we stop it will take even longer.” he calls across to me making me groan.

I lean back and try to relax and let my mind drift off. Vaelys shares my sentiment about the long flight and quickly whips down towards the ground causing me to yelp. She twists back up into a tight spiral letting out a loud screech. I hold tight to the reins as she goes to dive again and I begin to laugh wildly. Vhagar lets out a growl and Vaelys slowly levels out with her once more grumbles.

From off in the distance I can start to see the hightower. I sigh in relief as we quickly approach. Vaelys doesn’t waste time making a circle around this city and goes to land at what looks to be a small dragon pit. I quickly take my bags and slide down off the saddle. I hear another dragon softly chuffing from within the pits piquing my curiousity.

I slowly start to stretch out my legs and my arms when Aemond comes up behind of me and wraps his arms around my waist. He gives me a quick kiss on the neck as he grabs my bags.

“Allow me my prince.” an older servant says grabbing our bags. “Your brother should-“ his brother?

“Aemond!” a younger boy comes running towards us. He has the bright white hair and piercing violet eyes that mark him as family.

“Brother.” Aemond says looking him up and down.

“Pleasure to meet you.” I smile trying to hide my confusion. I wasn’t aware he had another brother, I’m thankful he’s younger at least.

“Please princess, the pleasure is mine. I’m Daeron.” he says reaching for my hand to kiss it. “I hope the journey went well for the both of you?” he asks looking to both of us with a smile plastered on his face.

“It was quite long.” I yawn covering my mouth.

“Indeed.” Aemond hums.

“Please let me show you to your chambers.” Daeron says almost as if he just remembered as he walks us towards his carriage.

“That would be lovely, thank you.” I smile warmly.

“In the morning is when they will have the greetings and the celebration and all of that for you both. They figured you both would want to retire quickly after traveling so long and far. We’ll have food and drinks brought up to you so you both can relax.” Daeron explains on the way to the castle.

“Thank you for allowing us the night to rest.” Aemond says voice still clipped.

The rest of the ride has palpable tension and I cannot wait to get to our chambers. I have no idea why Aemond is so cranky. I’m thankful the celebrations start tomorrow because he is in no state to be around others. I’m positive if they wouldn’t have properly greeted us on the morrow we would have left the following day.

I understand his frustrations and I share them as well, but we must be strategic. Hopefully being in Oldtown will allow us both a chance to just breathe and be for two weeks. Maybe he can reconnect with his brother since I’m sure they don’t see each other often.

“Come my love.” Aemond whispers pulling me from my thoughts. He holds a hand out to me as we’ve already made it to the main doors and they’re out of the carriage.

We make it to our chambers quickly and the trunks that travel ahead of us are here. Daeron excuses himself and tells us not to hesitate to ask the guard to get us something. As he promised food and drinks are brought up shortly after we settle in. We pick at the food in silence and I wish Aemond would just speak his mind.

“Why are you so upset my King?” I ask searching his face.

“I just feel like there is so much pressure on this tour going well and what if I fuck it up?” he says looking to me. “I’ve already had us abandon Stormsend and now we’re not greeted here and I can barely contain my anger at how audacious it is. What if no one cares who we are and we truly are just parading around?” he starts to spiral down burying his face in his hands.

“Hey, hey this is only our third stop.” I murmur softly walking over to hug him from behind as he sits. “I said we can kill Lord Borros. His people like us and trust us. That is a success and we got to look around. Dorne adored us. Oldtown is ours. Ormund is starting celebrations tomorrow. We are doing amazing and you’re not giving yourself enough credit.” I reassure him squeezing him tighter.

“Thank you my love. You’re right.” Aemond breathes out hugging my arms around him.

“Let me help you relax.” I whisper into his ear.

I take off his eyepatch and start to unbraid his hair and slowly brush it out. He hums in satisfaction ask I rake my nails over his scalp. He leans back and I see his shoulders visibly relax. I turn his head with my fingers and capture his lips with mine.

We slowly pull apart both heavily breathing. I grab his hand and guide him to the bed. I slowly remove his riding jacket and pants so he’s just left in his underwear. He helps me undress and grabs the first slip he can find for me to sleep in.

Aemond slips into bed and I cuddle into his side. I bring his face down to mine so our lips can meet once more. I bring my hand to his chest and slowly rake my nails down his chest making him groan. My hand reaches his waistband and my fingers ghost around the edge.

My hand dips under and I find him hard and leaking. My fingers quickly wrap around him and give a few experimental pumps. I use my thumb to collect droplets of come to help offer less resistance.

“My love,” he grunts into my neck. “You don’t have to.” he pants wrapping his hand around mine.

“I want to.” I reply kissing his jaw batting away his hand with my other.

I continue pumping him and give small squeezes around his base and tip. I speed up my hand and his hips start shuttering as he loses control. I continue kissing down his jaw until I make my way to his neck and begin sucking and biting.

“Viktorya, please,” his whine barely audible as he fucks himself up into my hand.

“Let go.” I whisper into his neck as my hand speeds up.

His hips begin jerking on their own accord in my hand. I slowly start squeezing more and soon he’s bursting across my hand panting heavily. When I look up to him his face is flushed but more relaxed. I bring my hand up to my mouth and slowly lick my fingers to taste him.

“You’re perfect, my love.” he groans watching me with low lids as I clean my fingers.

He pulls me into a fierce kiss that leaves me breathless. We pull apart and I cuddle into his side as he pulls the covers over us. He whispers words of adoration to me as we both fall asleep.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

The celebration goes perfectly and everyone is in high spirits. We’re brought through the town and the masses cheer and wave at us. We end at the Sept where we are blessed before thousands.

Our time in Oldtown is slow and easy. We don’t attend as many meetings or do too much strategic planning. The Hightower’s are our allies indefinitely thanks to Alicent. This stop has offered us true relaxation where we both just lounge around and read.

Aemond has been able to reconnect with Daeron and we have been spending a lot of time with him. He and his dragoon are thankful to have others to fly with and we try to go out with them at least once a day. Daeron expresses his hope to come home in the near future and be around the family again and we offer him support to make that happen.

We spend most of our last week here in the great library reading in each other’s presence. We’ve also had the opportunity to discuss our plans for the rest of the progress. This chance to plan ahead gives us both peace of mind and ready to take on the rest of the seven kingdoms.

Oldtown has been a relaxing stop, but I’m ready for more planning and plotting. Our trunks have already been packed and shipped off to Lannisport to be received by us. I’m thankful our trip to Highgarden is short and won’t take but a couple of hours from here.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

I’m absolutely speechless as we approach Highgarden. It’s breathtaking with all its levels of gardens. I will insist I have a full day to explore all of the gardens if I must. Vaelys slowly glides around Highgarden and doesn’t hesitate to circle more than once to gaze upon the greenery for herself. If it looks this beautiful from above I’m sure it looks even more spectacular in them.

We land just outside the gates in a patch of grass marked for our dragons to stay and relax. Our bags are quickly received and brought onto a cart and ushered through the gates. Lord Lyonel Tyrell greets us warmly and offers us both fresh flower crowns.

We take a seat in an open carriage as we’re carted through the city. The people wave and we offer them warm smiles and waves as we make our way to the castle. Once at the castle Aemond gets out and offers me his hand to step down. We’re introduced to our guard for the next week and brought to our chambers to change and get ready for our first official meeting here.

“I didn’t think anywhere would top Dorne for me.” I hum pulling out a sage dress.

“It is quite beautiful here.” Aemond agrees.

My dress hugs my body and fans out at the bottom. The neckline plunges between my breasts in a sharp V. The sleeves are short and hang off my shoulders like vines down to my elbows.

“You’re breathtaking.” Aemond whispers as his hands ghost around my hips.

“Later.” I turn smiling, giving him a quick kiss before I walk to our chambers to go to the meeting.

Aemond follows and intertwines our fingers and we’re lead down to the main hall. Even the inside of this castle is a work of art. I’m blown away by the architecture and I’m certain I could spend my whole week here just admiring its beauty and still not make it out of the main hall.

“Welcome my Prince and Princess. Highgarden is delighted to have you both here for the week.” Lyonel says sincerely.

“Thank you for having us in your beautiful home.” I return his smile.

“Indeed, I think my betrothed may just try and find a way to stay here in your gardens.” Aemond chuckles at my side.

“Highgarden would be blessed to have such beauty sneaking about.” Lyonels smile widens even more at the praise for his home.

Lyonel leads us to his council chambers and begins to discuss our plans for the next week. I didn’t even have to ask to have a day in the city with the people and the gardens because he’s offered us three days to do as we please.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Today is the first day we have free to finally explore the gardens. I wake Aemond up early by peppering kisses all over his face. He gives me a low chuckle and pulls me into an embrace. We’re tangled in the sheets and he starts playfully kissing my neck.

“Aem get up,” I whine trying to get out of his arms. “I wish to see the gardens with you.” I try pulling him out of bed with me.

“Yes, how could I forget.” he groans out stretching.

When he finally gets out of our bed I give him a quick kiss and begin to get dressed. I slip on a soft pink dress that flows around me. Aemond wears a loose white shirt along with blue pants. We walk out of our chambers hand in hand and lazily walk to the gardens.

We make our way to the first garden and I’m in absolute awe. I pull Aemond to all of the flowers that catch my eye and he follows me faithfully. He listens intently to my words of adoration and takes mental notes on which ones are my favorite.

We make our way to a private gazebo and lounge on the chairs in the as breeze cools us off. We don’t linger too long and make our way to the next level of gardens once we reach the top of the stairs the breath is stolen from me.

This level of gardens includes intricate water details. Aemond takes the lead on our walk because I can’t seem to pick which direction I want to go in. We stop at a pond that has beautifully colored koi gliding through the water. Even the pond plants are beautiful.

We spend the rest of our afternoon strolling through the gardens content in each others company. When night falls around us we make our way to the top gardens and lounge on a couch in each others embrace. We gaze upon the stars for hours.

“I love you.” Aemond whispers breaking the silence.

“I love you.” I smile turning my head towards him.

“In under two turns of the moon we’ll be bound to each other forever.” he says giving me a soft kiss.

“Forever may not be long enough for me.” I whisper against his lips.

Aemond pulls me to him and just holds me. We sit there for a while just holding each other and offering small words of love. Once it gets too cold we slowly make our way down the stairs and back to our chambers.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

On our last night here we share an intimate dinner with Lord Lyonel and his wife. They offer us words of support and praise. We extend an invitation to them to attend our ceremony on Dragonstone and they were delighted.

We talk well after the meal is done and share stories and ideas. I may have to get Aemond to make me my own personal garden modeled after Highgarden once we return to Kings Landing. We soon retire to our chambers to finish up packing and get some rest before our flight tomorrow.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

We fly leisurely to Lannisport, keeping to the coast to enjoy the waters. The air is warm and the sun is high casting our shadows over the water. The city is bathed in golden sunlight as we approach and we land outside the gates.

Lord Jason Lannister is waiting for us once we get off our dragons. Servants grab our bags quickly and are gone before we can even offer a thanks. Jason smiles and approaches us.

“I can never get enough of Targaryen beauty.” Jason groans looking me over.

“Easy,” I whisper to Aemond who is currently seething. “You honor me Lord Jason. We are delighted to spend the week with you.” I smile politely as I grab Aemonds hand.

“The honor is mine, my Princess,” his eyes follow the curves of my body. “And Prince.” Jason offers never looking to Aemond.

“Might we be shown to our chambers? I would like the freshen up.” I ask hoping to get us out of this situation.

“Yes, of course.” He escorts us over to carriage.

The ride to the castle is full of Jason listening to himself talk. He insists on showing us to our chambers himself and shows us all the amenities of our chambers. I would consider this an apartment from how large and luxurious this is. Regardless of how Jason has been acting he certainly has not fallen short in our accommodations.

“Thank you Lord Jason. We will be down within the hour.” Aemond cuts off another one of Jason’s tangents and he promptly leaves.

“My love,” I start once the doors are shut.

“Does he not know you’re mine?” he asks through his teeth.

“Maybe he’s just really friendly?” I offer grimacing.

“The way he looks at you like that in front of me, of all people, is bold.” Aemond shakes his head in disbelief.

“I’m yours and no one else’s.” I assure walking over to him. “From now until the moon and stars fall out of the sky.” I pull him into a tight hug.

Aemond holds me tight as his heart beat settles. He takes a deep breath and we slowly pull apart. He looks down at me intensely and pulls me back to him again. I chuckle and give him a squeeze of my own.

“Aemond I promise no one will take me away from you.” I say slightly muffled by his chest.

“I should kill him where he stands for even looking at you. I could tell what he was thinking just by looking at his face.” He starts to rile himself up again.

“My love-“ I’m cut off by his lips crashing into mine.

Aemond has me a complete mess on the bed in minutes. He’s relentless with his tongue and fingers which has me loosing track of time. I’m gasping for breath as his tongue continues its assault. There’s a sudden knock at the door and Aemond slams his fingers into me harshly.

“Aemond, yes yes, please,” I whine over and over between moans.

Aemond chuckles into my core and I come burying my hand in his hair. He slowly lifts himself up and wipes his face a bit, smiling ear to ear. He pulls a blanket over me and goes and opens the door. Standing on the other side is a blushing Jason Lannister.

“It has been well past an hour.” Jason says clearing his throat.

“Apologies,” Aemond says bored. “We got a bit distracted.” he smirks over his shoulder at me.

“Celebrations are about to begin and it would make sense to have our guests of honor in attendance.” Jason says with a clipped tone.

“Mm, indeed. We’ll be down shortly.” Aemond says over his shoulder as he shuts the door in his face.

“Aemond,” I hiss as I get up from the bed. “We are supposed to be cordial with him.” I roll my eyes at him as I grab my bag to get a gown.

“I will be now that he knows you’re mine.” he hums changing into a black top and black trousers.

I change into a black dress to match with him. It has gold details along the neckline as well as down the sleeves. The entire back is open and is tied together at the top with two golden strings that dangle down my spine. As we exit our chambers Aemond keeps a hand on my exposed lower back the entire time.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Tensions have soothed a bit in the past couple of days. Aemond has been glued to my side our entire stay here and I don’t mind his possessiveness. Jason keeps most of the conversations to Aemond and rarely addresses me anymore. It’s was disheartening at first but I find I can be just as cunning in the shadows as well.

I take notice of everything that is and isn’t said. I look at people’s body language and watch their eyes. Being able to pick up on these little gestures allow me and Aemond to know where to target to be most beneficial.

We were only offered two days to do as we please here which I didn’t mind too much. We mostly just went to the shops and talked with the people. This city reminded me so much of King Landing that it didn’t make it that special to me. It was beautiful in architecture but nothing that was breathtaking.

We extend an invitation to our wedding to Jason, as we’ve decided we’ll offer one to all of the houses. He accepts the invitation and will send word of his decision to Dragonstone. We won’t be let down if he doesn’t show up, although it would be nice to know that we can count on him as an ally if needed.

We pack up and go to bed early. We’re both ready to leave Lannisport not finding it particularly interesting. Once we both wake and change we head to our dragons and take off towards Pyke.

[grishaverse-chaos]

The Darkling

why I like them: could have been SO GOOD in theory okay? I will never shut up about this because "character who everyone thinks is evil is actually just the victim of a smear campaign and some really bigoted propaganda" is SUCH a good character concept and I wish darkling fans were right about him because it would be so fucking cool and aesthetic

why I don't: he uh. he isn't that. he could have been so fucking iconic and instead he was just a vicious murderer. who grooms teenage girls.

favourite episode/scene: LOVE the bit where alina stabs his hand in s1e8. tbf that's more of a fav alina moment than anything else lmao, let me think... okay fr I love the "fine. make me your villain" scene bc it just really showcases who he is as a character and how he sees himself (hint: those two things are not the same)

favourite season/movie: imo he's better written in s1 of the show than in s2, idk though. and I do love his story in the kos duology lmao

favourite line: that one bit in rule of wolves where he says "everything I have done has been for ravka" because it's so clearly Not True and yet.... he clearly thinks it is.... so where does intent stop and impact begin...... it's deep okay

favourite outfit: purely for shits and giggles I'm going to say his black kefta in s2 where there's bits of gold bc I loveeee people being haunted by those they've wronged and I think alina haunting him really fits into that theme

otp: no thank you! in all honesty he prob could have been Fixed™ if he'd had a genuine relationship at an earlier age but he didn't so I refuse to inflict him on any other character. darkolai is interesting to consider though bc I feel like the ways they see themselves clash so heavily.... it's about self image and it's about villainy and law and justice and power and and and. they would Not be a good relationship but I think they should interact more for the Narrative

brotp: his sister ulla! they'd have such a fun sibling dynamic lmao I think it'd be sweet

headcanon: tbh I don't tend to think about him much beyond the big narrative stuff so I'm struggling to think of something that fits the genre of "headcanon".... but let's humanise him a little! I bet he reads really literary fiction and gets ever-so-slightly pretentious about it lmao

unpopular opinion: is it unpopular to say that despite his original good intentions he's a bit of a dickhead and not as smart as he thinks he is? in some corners of the fandom it totally is but idk

a wish: at this point there's not much more that could be done with his character beyond what's already been set up (him being mercy killed so he's not suffering in the thorn wood for all eternity) so I'm going to say that I hope his stans get better reading comprehension bc dear GOD some of the takes I see (posted in the alina tag btw I'm not deliberately seeking them out) are absolutely horrendous. is that too salty? perhaps. idc though it's my blog and darkling stans are free to block me if they don't like my takes

an oh-god-please-don't-ever-happen: I swear if he goes NEAR alina genya or zoya again I will reach through the fourth wall to kill him myself. only half joking btw I'd be so pissed. imo they've all had the closure they need narratively and for him to seek them out again would be a dick move of the highest degree

5 words to best describe them: used to have good intentions. that might be cheating but idk if I can pick 5 random adjectives lmao

my nickname for them: I call him darkles sometimes (bc it's funny and also I think it'd piss him off if people called him that in-universe) also a lot of less positive nicknames ("that prick", "shithead" etc) but idk if that counts

[shrinkthisviolet]

How about director's commentary on 'we'll give the world to you (and you'll blow us all away?'

Ooh gladly! Below the cut for length:

So this fic was written as part of Maiko "Halloweek" (so called because it was the week leading up to Halloween), aka Fall Maiko Week, back in 2020. Maiko was, and still is, one of my favorite ATLA ships, and writing this prompt also endeared me to Izumi too—I don't believe I'd seen LOK yet, though she's barely in it anyway.

One of the important aspects to me while writing this was implementing one of my headcanons: they got married relatively early, but waited a while to have kids. And part of that means they dealt with pressure about having an heir as soon as possible...mostly from the Fire Sages, who are worried that Zuko might die before conceiving an heir. And it's not that the worry is unfounded, but it's the persistence.

It was a nice chance, also, to highlight the Gaang's closeness. This is one of my favorite snippets of that:

…Zuko had the full force of the chi-blocking Kyoshi Warriors, a master waterbender, the Avatar, a master swordsman, a master earth- and metalbender, and a master knife-thrower behind him. Anyone who dared oppose him would fail, of that the Gaang (Sokka’s name for them, expanded to include the Kyoshi Warriors) was certain.

And also this, showcasing a little Maitara friendship:

... Mai found out from a furious Katara that they’d been approaching members of Team Avatar in an attempt to circumvent the royals.

“What’d you do?”

“Threatened to freeze them if they tried it again. But I’d keep my eyes peeled, just in case they didn't get the memo.”

The worst part is that even when they finally get the hint and back off in the pestering...the rumors don't stop:

The Fire Sages no longer brought up the need to have an heir, but Zuko and Mai had endeared themselves to the palace staff enough to know about the whispers. The sneers that perhaps the marriage was not as happy as presumed, that perhaps the Fire Lady had already been pregnant when they wed (apparently, some in the Fire Nation were praying that this was true, and Zuko had never felt like committing murder more than in that moment).

Of course, as stated later, the Fire Sages are spreading the rumors. The palace staff are too endeared to Mai and Zuko by this point...and the Fire Sages intend to force their hand however possible.

Also, this adorable Maiko moment, with a little Maiaang friendship:

“Since when are you into proverbs?” Zuko teased.

“I’ve been befriended by a certain Air Nomad,” she replied with a smirk. “It turns out, he and your uncle speak the same language.”

“And you’ve picked it up?”

“Unfortunately.”

And this one:

...he focused his efforts on the creation of the United Republic of Nations and enlisted Toph and Mai’s help in replacing the gossiping Fire Sages. When the Fire Sages protested, he simply said, “If you wanted my ear, you shouldn’t have insulted my wife.”

I love them 🥰 I will go down with this ship fr (that last line in particular...one of my favorites I've ever written)

Also...Mai telling Zuko she's pregnant under Yue's light (right after Zuko tells her Yue's story) is intentional, given that Izumi is born at the moon's peak—which itself is also intentional!

But back to that in a bit. For now...Mai and Zuko's shared anxiety was important for me to convey:

He looked at Mai very seriously and said, “Do you want this? Really, and truly, do you want to have this child?”

She looked back at him, first startled, then serious like him, and nodded firmly. “I do. But I also want to do it right. I want our child to know they’re loved, always, and that they never have to earn it.”

They both want their child, they want to do right by them, but they're scared too. And of course they'll do their level best and even beyond that, but that anxiety can be hard to shake. It takes time!

But now, back to Izumi:

Princess Izumi was born in late spring, at the moon’s peak, with a quick but steady breath in her lungs. It had been a difficult birth for her mother, and a stressful event for her father, and the fact that she had even lived to breathe was a miracle in itself.

As mentioned prior, Izumi being born at the moon's peak would likely be unusual for a firebender. Late spring itself probably isn't too strange, even if summer would likely be more auspicious.

Izumi has a little asthma at birth too! Nothing too serious, but she is the first (and only) child. I've never liked the hc that Mai dies in childbirth, or that she and Zuko stop having kids because of pregnancy complications...but as someone who's the eldest child, yeah, we are usually pretty difficult births (one of my baby cousins was too).

And then, of course...it gets worse, because Izumi doesn't have the Spark.

So here's the thing about the Spark: I've admittedly never been totally sure what it is, I've always imagined it as the sun hitting a baby's eyes in a specific way...but I also think it's superstition more than it's legit. Zuko didn't have a Spark either, and he's a formidable bender. It's probably an old wive's tale, and it rightfully Zuko off:

“You cannot have a nonbender heir,” another Sage snapped. “It has never been done!”

“I was presumed to be a nonbender upon my birth,” Zuko retorted sharply, “and I ask you to mind your tone. I am your Fire Lord and this child’s father. If you’d like to try appealing to my wife, I assure you, my feelings toward this pale in comparison."

...

“Believe me, she means it,” Zuko said coldly from the door, startling the Sages. “And so do I. One more step towards my wife or daughter, and I will not hesitate to incinerate you.”

Another fun part was writing Mai getting pissed too:

Unbelievably, they tried just that, not even giving Mai the courtesy of sleep before approaching her. Mai, being both sleep-deprived and furious that they would propose infanticide, warned,

“Get away from my daughter or she won’t be the one disposed of today.”

Any time I get to write her emotions, it's really fun for me, because she's usually such a reserved character, while I am very much not 😅 she's so unlike me, so it's always fun to dig into why she's like that (which I've done in other fics), and show her being more emotional as she marries Zuko and grows older, to show how she's grown and changed 💞

Zuko being protective of Mai was fun to write too...and him being protective of Izumi!! He loves her so much already 🥰 and speaking of which...I loved writing this first moment of him holding her:

“Getting sappy on me? Save that for Izzy.”

Zuko smiled at his daughter. “Hello, my little turtleduck. Don’t mind your mother. She loves us, really.”

Loved it so much that it ended up as the preview in the summary 😂

Also ofc, this scene with him and Izumi later:

“And this is the turtleduck pond, where the turtleducks live! Except you, of course, little one.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “You’re my little turtleduck, and you’re actually human, so you get to live in the palace with me and your mom!”

But Izumi caught sight of the turtleducks, who were squawking happily at her, and seemingly out of nowhere, she burst out crying.

“Oh! Oh, um..what’s wrong, Turtleduck?” The name only made Izumi cry harder, and Zuko winced. “Um...Izzy? Izumi? What’s wrong, sweetie?” Her crying didn’t abate, and Zuko flipped her on her stomach and over his shoulder, patting her back firmly in an attempt to burp her.

He gets so worried here, it's adorable 🥺 remember what I said earlier about how Maiko both want Izumi but they're scared/anxious, and both things coexist? This demonstrates that. Zuko's a little out of his depth, and it shows, and I loved writing this. No parents are perfect to start off, especially not parents like Mai and Zuko who are flying...mostly blind (with help ofc, but even so...they're the full-time parents). But they're determined to do right by Izumi no matter what.

Mai says something to that effect here:

“Look, Zuko. What you did, when she was crying? The way you panicked and tried to soothe her in any way you could? That’s the mark of a great father. That’s the mark of a father who cares, who might not have all the answers but still wants to try.” She smiled softly. “It’s leagues better than either of our fathers, I’ll tell you that.”

As Mai says, she's “full of good points”, and I’m quite inclined to agree 🥰

(Also, as a bonus, I got to throw a little shade at parts of the ATLA comics. Aang refuses to even consider killing Zuko, and Kei Lo is Mai’s ex, not her boyfriend. Ahh how I love throwing shade at the comics 💞)

director’s commentary ask game!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

reread the rest thus far of lackadaisy and there's the both v easy & difficult task of gathering a shit ton but only a shit ton of excerpts (like every single page is a highlight i'm not exaggerating)

and every single element is superlative and the way it all only becomes More So....already mentioned the way the like smooth gradient shading made the successful evocation of 3D Shapes more noticeable, along w/the consistent geometries of character design & details in fabric folds; the way Lighting & Coloring only goes on to become more prominent elements only enhances that further. the compositions, backgrounds, pacing, angles....everything is so dynamic & expressive, such as including the expressions which you know i also Love / absorbed

going "hell yes for people to discover this superlative comic" then having to occasionally refresh past site traffic overloaded server errors like "nooo" but actually yes

whilest clapping & cheering for the fun of everyone who's been here a minute. My God the invigorating reward when again i started reading in '07 & the concept of rocky & freckle on a "proper" run had only manifested via fun official bonus art, then a literal decade later as it was actually happening in the comic like screeeeaammm i can feel it coming in the air tonight oh lord etc....i've loved following it, again, if i see another new comic page. i am going to be Enriched

i also really was right on the ball myself this time around like okay okay yep i have picked up on Everything, at least to the degree i can lmao. i love the mysteries. i love how Character Focused it is too ofc and there's no characters i'm uniterested in / dislike. you gotta point to one of them, truly, and i have been a [pointing at freckle] enjoyer these fifteen years but fr i am a connoisseur of everyone, i love that so many characters are a weird mysterious chaos element story driver in their own right. i considered mordecai more intently than ever, love his like ultra mystery (and that we leave off on him doing some detectiving even) and truly fun that like, the source of the more Immediate problems he keeps having in every damn interaction isn't the like [wow mordecai with the just diving into the hatchet murdering] factor so much as it's that he's generally like "i am just standing here" and is not nt in any way that matters and people insist on fucking with him on that front. the peak tragedy of him in a bonus comic getting bullied into having to dance with someone to Be Polite like i'm so sorry i wish you could be that ficus too. anyways intrigued with the marigold &/or mordecai mysteries including that it's like, how coincidental is it that he talks about marigold having a thorn in its side & the savoys' nickname for him is peekon = thorn. there is so much to consider, love that for us truly. and i'm rooting for mordecai & nicodeme's dynamic out here, is another conclusion....very enriched by comparing & contrasting that serafine nicodeme mordecai triumvirate with the rocky ivy freckle one, to be sure. im enriched

i'm also enriched by every footnote that's got like historical facts / research notes / [this is inaccurate for xyz prioritization but here's the disclaimer] explanations. i Love information. and everything else like i loooove this comic it's Soooo Fucking putting my hands to my temples and inhaling at length through my teeth

[lively-potter]

— trials of athena ; four

— genre ; enemies to lovers, kinda slow burn, friends to lovers

— warnings ; a hella lot of cursing, some typos ( of course 🙄😬 ), mature themes, smut, athena doesn’t like feelings, fluff, smut, angst, some violence, a teeny bit of blood and gore, JK’s a dick fr

— intro, teaser, part one, part two, part three

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— 2024 © LivelyPotter all rights reserved

— word count ; 2k

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam

chapter four ; “my brain is experiencing technical difficulties.”

May 23rd, 2023 9 AM

The next morning, I was still annoyed that my family didn't let me give that rotten rat shit a piece of my mind. It got even worse when Mom and the rest of my family were basically infatuated with that cabbage head.

Mother dearest couldn't stop saying how kind he was. How respectful he was. How sweet. How handsome.

JK this, and JK that.

Constantly.

Gag.

He's a two faced, hotter than the sun, little rat bastard.

After finishing my second round of editing my manuscript for my latest book and sending my agent an email to clue him in on my latest accomplishment, I tore myself away from my desk and stretched my poor, aching shoulders.

"Yo bitch, did you even hear me?" Sawyer hollered through the phone.

"Sonofabitch – Sawyer, you ass! You scared the shit out of me." I grumped, grabbing my phone from the desk and taking it off speaker phone. I set the phone against my ear and flopped back on my bed.

"Sorry dude," I sighed, stretching out my body. "What were you saying?" I asked, lips pulling up in a grin when Sawyer started to whine.

"I was telling your bitch ass that I'm gonna be home soon to see your little boy toy," he snickered.

My eyes widened, "That rotten beaver nugget is not anything to me, and he is anything but little – if we're getting technical about it."

Sawyer moaned tortured, "I can't believe I missed that. I wanna go home."

"Same," I sighed, "I wish you were here. But when you get back, you can come stay with me if it's cool with your parents – which would be a good excuse to see the dickwad next door."

"We could always egg his house," Sawyer said thoughtfully. I laughed loudly and shook my head.

"I wish." I grunted, "But Mom and the others would murder us if we did."

I could picture Sawyer smirking, "They're probably hoping he'll be your future husband." He cackled.

My face flushed heavily from anger or envy—never mind. No. My face did flush from anger, it couldn't be anything else. I wouldn't allow it to be anything else.

"Fuck that!" I squawked, "He's insufferable." I stuck my nose in the air, lip curling as I did so.

Sawyer tutted, "Okay then, so you don't mind if I steal him?"

Yes.

"No," I replied, mentally smacking myself across the face. I absentmindedly traced the bruise on my cheek. "Go on ahead, Sweetpea. Plus, he isn't a possession to steal, bro."

Try it and I'll saw your tiny balls off and shove them down your throat.

A lump grew in my throat at that terrifying thought.

"Anyways," I quickly changed the subject once I heard Mom call for me downstairs. "I gotta go, Mom's calling me – but I'll call you later and tell you any new gossip, 'kay?"

"Kay, hoe. Love you."

A laugh escaped my lips, "Love you too, cunt."

I hung up the phone and pocketed my phone and rushed downstairs.

Mom was waiting for me at the dining room table. I walked into the large room and saw her on her laptop with a stack of papers on her left side.

"Whatcha up to, Ma?" I asked, plopping down into the seat across from her. Mom peered up at me over her glasses with a big smile.

"Hi, sweetie." She greeted, holding a small piece of paper in her french manicure hands. "Would you mind picking up a couple last minute things at the store for me?" She asked, "I would ask one of your dads to do it, but they're dealing with something at the diner."

"Sure, I don't mind. What do you need?" I asked, brows furrowing when she handed me the piece of paper in her hands.

"Here's a list," She smiled, and pecked the top of my head, eyeing the bruise with barely contained amusement. "Thank you."

"No problem," I shrugged, "Just let me get dressed and I'll head out."

I got up from the table and on my way to the stairs, Mom called after me.

"I love you! Oh! And if you see our neighbor; be sure to be nice, Athena."

My face dropped in agitation, "I'll try." To get on his nerves. "But he deserved fuckin' Nair in his shampoo."

***

May 23rd, 2023 10:55 AM

After dressing in black leggings, a random oversized AC/DC shirt I stole from North, and then proceeding to steal his jeep to drive myself to the nearest store, I was already seething after being caught up in a fuckin' traffic jam.

Ugh.

I really hated going out sometimes (what the fuck am I saying? I hate leaving home period).

"Let's get this over with." I mumbled, jumping out of North's jeep (which would soon be mine if I played my cards right, if he didn't rip my heart out after finding out I stole it first.)

Oops.

With Papa's credit card in hand, along with Mom's list; I proceeded my walk into the store.

Twenty minutes had passed, and I nearly had everything – deodorant, shampoo, conditioner, Mom's green juice, and oddly enough a skin tag remover.

With my arms full, I peered down at the last items and paled.

Tampons, I could deal with. But condoms? Eww.

I gagged and cringed.

"This is fucking mortifying," I whispered to myself.

Who knew I would have to buy my parents' condoms. But with all the shit that's been happening recently; it didn't seem too far-fetched. But still nasty.

I hesitantly walked into the women's hygiene isle and got the biggest pack of tampons I've ever seen and squared my shoulders and looked at the ground; briskly walking towards the end of the isle, not paying attention to where I was going until I bumped into a rock wall.

"Oww." I winced, holding my bruised cheek with my free hand, "I'm so sorry, please excuse—" I looked up and froze.

Holy Peanut Butter and Jelly Crackers.

The bitch glaring darkly at me was my neighbor, the unnecessary movie sequel. Who stood towering above me, (glaring darkly, might I add, once again), for accidentally bumping into him.

"...Never mind." I raised a brow. I tried side stepping him, but that stupid beaver bitch nugget stood in front of me, blocking me from moving – for no reason.

I gulped, eyes flashing down to his crouch. It was like getting fucking PTSD flashbacks. Of his monster dick tearing that women's throat in two.

(not that I see all of it happen – it was just my imagination, you dirty hoes)

I bet she'll be having to suck on some of those throat lozenges my dad gives me when I get sick to get some feeling back there.

I tore my eyes away from his pants and felt the back of my neck flush as I took in his outfit.

Black combat boots seemed to be his norm, along with dark clothing. This time the dickhead wore baggy pants, a white tank with a open button down shirt overtop. You could still see the tattoos on his arms, but I knew he had a lot more. A black studded belt tied the entire outfit together.

It tore me up admitting that the dude had style.

My mouth dried at the thought of his bare chest. And those abs. If I could squeal like a little girl at the image of his abs, you bet your bottom dollar I'd do it.

UH-THEE-NA

STOP THINKING OF HIM THIS WAY

HE IS A DICKFACE

A RUDE HOOLIGAN

My neighbor raised a brow of his own and licked at the silver hoops on his lips – eyeing me up and down. His doe eyes darkened back into a glare when he looked into my eyes to find I was looking at him hatefully in return.

"I liked you better when you were stuttering." He rasped, dark eyes flashing in amusement when I bared my teeth at him.

"And I liked you better when you were halfway across the country." I spit back, remembering his conversation with Mom and North last night when he told them he lived in California prior.

Gods, why did this man get me so angry, so quickly?

My neighbor threw back his head and laughed for a moment, and I took the chance to take him in. His dark black hair was shaved in the back, with his hair longer on top. It looked so soft and fluffy; I just wanted to touch and tug it.

Wut? No Athena – the only time I will be thinking about his fluffy hair is when I imagine it all falling out when I put Nair in his hair products.

My neighbor looked back down at me and bit the edge of his lip.

My eye twitched.

I remembered the way he bit his lip when that lady hit her knees in front of him.

DO NOT THINK OF THIS AGAIN.

"Can you get out of my way?" I gritted out through clenched teeth, don't lash out, Athena. Just don't...no matter how much you want to

My neighbor eyed my cheek curiously seeing the handprint shaped bruise and jerked his chin. "What happened there?"

Ah, nothing much. Only that I bitch slapped myself after seeing the pierced beast in your pants. No biggie.

"Not your business, you overdraft bank fee." I snapped. My neighbor's head neared back in shock, lips pursing to keep the smirk off his lips.

"Overdraft bank fee? Really? That's the best you got, Princess?" he asked, bending his knees down to lower his height to look me in the eyes.

I gasped at the disrespect, "Okay; listen here, you lunatic." My eye started to twitch again. Damn it. "I am not that short—"

"Really?" he snorted, eyes alight with amusement, "How tall are you? Five Foot?"

He stood to his full height and peered down at me, daring me.

"Four eleven and a quarter, thank you very much for asking." I cut in, ears blushing hotly as he snickered, "and two, I have a lot of insults – I can make you a list, if you'd like, fuckface. And three, my name is Athena, not Princess." I hissed lowly.

I held onto the box of tampons when he looked after I had finished my speech.

My hotter than the sun smirked again (ohmygod, does he not know how to smile? Only smirk?) and peered at the list in my hands.

"You have a mouth on you." He mused, watching with rapt attention as I choked slightly.

"Probably not as good as that lady a couple days ago." I muttered too lowly for him to hear.

His ears perked, "You say something, princess?" he asked, lips lifting in a little smirk.

The back of my neck flushed at the nickname.

I grasped the items in my arms tighter towards me, "Nothing. Now can you move out of my way?" I asked. My neighbor chuckled lowly and reached above my head to grab something.

Sonofabitch: my brain is experiencing technical difficulties.

The fabric of his shirt brushed against my chin, and I got a whiff of his cologne. It was light but fuckin' heavenly. Why did this insufferable salt slug smell so good.

"Here," His eyes sparkled in amusement as he dropped a medium sized box on top of the items in my hands. My face paled then brightened into a blush when I saw the box of condoms.

My neighbor watched my face color in sick amusement.

I wanted to reach over and smack the piss out of his gorgeous cheeks.

He backed away slowly, holding another box of condoms in his hand as he left, chuckling lowly.

"I'll be seeing you soon, princess."

Fuck.

It happened again.

I was malfunctioning. 

My eyes look to the right, and lit up once I saw the Nair powder.

Without a second thought and regret; I swiped the box up in my hands and went to the checkout.

I have a feeling I'll be needing this. Real soon.

A/N

i love my beloved athena sm. are y'all excited to meet sawyer?

[silviakundera]

Empresses in the Palace Ep 24

aha! Though I felt last ep was sloppy, satisfying in this one for the emperor to finally catch on that Hua Fei is having too much conversation with her brother. The point to where she knows about battle results at the same speed as the emperor and coordinating requests for reward? No bueno.

The minion going after ZH's dad is bad timing (for my gf) but that doesn't feel as overly convenient as last episode, because they set this up previously and we've been waiting for the general's faction to take action. But yeah lmao NOT a good idea right now to remind the emperor that you're getting recognized & bowed to like royalty.

But then... they keep winning battles. He can't kill them, right? There's a danger there but they're so useful! lololol now the emperor knows what it's like to be riding a tiger.

Man, as much as Ling Rong annoys me these days I hope no one poisoned her to destroy her voice. Celestial!! That's a crime against nature.

Ep 25

So they stole the idea for the plague cure from Physician Wen?? Fr fr I guessed that at first, because of a couple moments I thought were foreshadowing. But then when the good doctor himself didn't have a shocked or upset reaction, I put that aside. Ok!! Maybe it makes that episode a bit better now in my eyes, that there were subtleties

Hua Fei, "You've been flaunting your pregnancy as if it were a golden ingot. What a small minded woman!"

everyone:

LMAO when I saw that incense scene at Lady Fusca's I was envisioning 3 or 4 different players all trying to poison her at once and cancelling each other out. And then LR's maid!! hahahahaha no but really I bet at least 1 other person is trying to murder her as they speak.

Fusca gonna finally bring unity to the harem by being the most annoying.

Physician Wen, why even tell the girls about the plot to spread the plague? They can't do anything about it. Just a blow to morale.

OMG WHAT LING LONG WHAT U DOING GIRL THE CAT?!?!?!

no I can't get over this serial killer behavior asdfghjk poisioning Pine Nut the cat is craaaaaazy

oh nevermind, just scheming an "accidental" miscarriage lol.

I really thought LR had a sudden vicious urge to vent her rage by murdering small animals 😂😭

oh shit, Zhen Huan is 2 months pregnant and everybody knows? 🚨 🚨 🚨

just hunker down stay in the house for the next 7 months tbh

I really like the empress dowager's style 👌. She's sharp, just practical about the darkness of palace life and picks her battles. Killing an imperial heir is her bottom line and she KNOWS the empress had a hand in this and refuses to pretend.

[nami-lvr]

DBD characters reacting to…

A strong and aggressive survivor who fights them back (sometimes wins)

FT: Ghostface, Trickster, Pyramid Head, Micheal Myers, Spirit, Artist, Hag, Nurse, Huntress, and Sadako. Basically all my faves

Cw- Cannon violence, survivor is very aggressive, survivor is very good at hand to hand and disarming, survivor is around 5’4, survivor is implied yo be Hispanic (I’m projecting with this one my bad) and survivor is G/N with “you” or they/them being used

Tw- Trickster and Ghostface being pervs (not sorry!!!)

A/N: CAN U TELL I LOOOOOOOOVE WOMEN LMAOOOOO spirit is so cute fr like cmere lemme help u get that glass out of u bbg 😚😚 certified lovergirl right here 🙋🏽‍♀️🙋🏽‍♀️🙋🏽‍♀️

Ghostface

“Annoying little prick”

The first time you hit him, he had you cornered.

*bam* You had hit him right in the diaphragm.

He lost his breath and got knocked back. You put a lot of power behind that punch. Who knew such a small thing could pack so much power? He’s impressed

In your defense, he was all up in your face saying all these lewd things! How could you not punch him?

You got up on him again, and hit him in his nose with your left hand and his jaw with your right, then bounced. Now he’s just plain annoyed with you.

He didn’t get you that trial, and everyone made fun of him for getting bested by such a small little thing.

He was into it though

Trickster

“This is hot”

OH NO HES INTO IT 😢😢

Ur fucked lol!

He thinks you’re basically his girlfriend after the first time you beat his ass.

You had grabbed his wrist to keep him from stabbing you, and twisted his arm the opposite way

As soon as he let go out of shock, you picked it up off the floor and drove it into his stomach, and twisted the blade to get more damage

As soon as you we’re done, you pulled out the knife, and ran, hoping he would die of blood-loss before the match.

He never got the chance to even hook or mori you that round. He’s impressed, angry, and irritated that you messed up his perfect skin.

This trial, he went back to his realm before Danny could make fun of him for getting beat by such a small thing

He had no idea why you did what you did, or why you we’re always over the top when fighting killers back

But to him, you wanted his attention. You are now a fan!

You want his attention? It’s all yours.

Pyramid Head

“What the hell?”

He’s impressed

He’s annoyed

He makes it known by making these groans and grunts whenever he sees you

He makes sure to get you hooked first so that he can get you out of the way

The first time you bit him, you drew a lot of blood.

Who knew Pyramid Head could bleed? Now you know.

He’s mad as fuck lol

He is so pissed off he just straight up kills you

Doesn’t even give you to the entity that round

Just murders you

I mean

You BIT the man 😭

Micheal

“You’re kidding.”

EXTREMELY annoyed

But EXTREMELY interested in you

Because why did you knock the wind out of him with one punch

He thinks you’re weak

And in a way, you are. Because you’re weaker than him

But still stronger than you should be, and way more aggressive as well.

It seems like you always fight the killers back, which surprises everyone

Especially him though.

He sees you carrying firewood back to the campfire for the other survivors and just

Stares at you

Kind of admiring you but way creepier!

He’s way nicer to you in the rounds but still the same old Micheal

Sometimes lets you subconsciously escape him on purpose

Spirit

“Whats the issue exactly”

Doesn’t see why everyone is fussing about you hitting killers

Of course you’re gonna hit killers

But that was until she got hit it the boob by you (for my amab readers, boob hits HURT. Like getting kicked in the balls but for women.)

She is PISSED that you hit her boob and you know it

You are now on her bad side because now she’s just sour about it lol

Every round with her, you’re the last to go

She even made you watch Steve get mori’d

Now you have to stay near the kids whenever its her round because she usually makes them go right in front of you

She is even more brutal because she’s so salty.

Eventually forgets why she’s mad at you, still mad though.

Artist

“How intriguing”

BASICALLY CALLED YOU HOT

Imo you’re winning bruh

She was chasing you and you hid behind a tree when she looked away.

She went looking for you and you gave her a gun punch and when she kneeled over in pain you kneed her in the face and elbowed the back of her head

Damn near knocking her out!

What the fuck man!

She bit your thigh and hooked you but she’s waaaay mor cautious when chasing you because that shit HURT

Hag

“Oh.”

Doesn’t care

She is still going to kill you even if you punch her so hard you knock off her jaw

You fighting back basically motivates her to kill you even more

STILL FINE AS FUCK 🙋🏽‍♀️🙋🏽‍♀️ come kill me fr

Not gonna be shocked or anything

She would just.. not care

At all

LIKE YOU DONT MATTER TO HER AT ALL 😭😭

Nurse

“Interesting..”

SHE BASICALLY CALLED YOU HOT

Idk man IMO that’s a big fat W

Ignore my bisexuality but SHE IS SO FINE I JUST WANNA ggrrrrrgrgrg BARK

Anyways you hit her with a leg sweep and a rib stomp

Then book it

She’s impressed that you could get that close to her without her noticing

She’s a lot like Micheal

She just subconsciously lets you escape her sometimes

And it’s not even a defeated feeling she gets its more like

“Oh. Oh well 🤷‍♀️”

She also goes easy on you

You guys kinda have like a

“I don’t kill you, you don’t kill me” thing going on

Huntress

“Why won’t you die”

Extremely confident you can’t do to her what you did to ghostface.

You can and you do.

She’s more annoyed that she has to put up with you than she is impressed, but she’s still impressed.

You confused her at first but once she got behind the fact that you can pack a WHOLE lot of punch after you hit her jaw so hard her bunny mask fell off

She just

Left you alone

A lot like Micheal as well

But her letting you escape is just so you don’t hit her again

That or she’ll just hook you first so you CANT knock her mask off

Sadako

“Ugh. What the fuck.”

Seriously annoyed

Thats it

She JUST sees you as annoying

I think she’s basically hag 2.0

You just motivate her to kill you more

Like theres no point in getting anyone else first

You grab a fistful of her hair? She bites you 🤷‍♀️

[whenwillderekhalebehappy]

so i just started playing fallout 4 ,,, here are my preliminary opinions

- lame storyline, i don't want to be married heterosexual. idc abt this fuckass baby either.

- fr tho, it feels like the devs just chose the most generic backstory they could think of so they could get that part out of the way. it's not interesting or good. moreover, if that actually happened to a person, they'd be traumatized and terrified, not running around looking for guns and stimpaks. like, it feels like my character doesn't even give that much of a shit that this happened. like ooh the world ended, my wife was murdered, my infant child was kidnapped, it is 200 years in the future, but yeah no i don't have any questions, ill just roll with it. LAZY WRITING!

- also: how does the survivor know that his baby is still alive. the story has him frozen, unfrozen to witness murder and kidnapping, frozen again and then unfrozen to start the game. how am i supposed to know when that kidnapping happened? like yeah it could've been recent but it could also have been 100 years ago.

- upon exiting the vault you immediately start like 11 quests. why?? for what reason?? i just got here??

- do not love that feral ghouls will just lay on the ground waiting for you to get close enough so they can attack you. 1. its annoying, you get ambushed every time. 2. why would they be doing that, are they sleeping? waiting? doesnt make sense for them to be doing either of those things. they're feral, they wander around attacking whatever comes near them, they don't lie down and wait for prey, thats just ,,, not how they work?

- i especially dont like that the ghouls also dont show up as hostile on the little navigation bar until they get up. the whole point of that is so i know if there's hostiles in the area. if all the hostiles just sneak up on you, there's no reason to look at it.

- the fact that you can just max out your SPECIAL stats kinda defeats the purpose of those stats. the point is that it allows you to pick strengths and weaknesses for your character, instead of it being skills you can learn. it adds difficulty and personalization.

- i genuinely don't like the "improved" graphics. maybe its because my pc is shitty and i have to run low quality, but i cant see shit. especially all the harsh shadows make it really hard to gauge depth and to see things on the ground (like feral ghouls waiting to attack you).

- why is VATS under Q. thats dumb

- follow up: why are we now using the enter key and arrow keys in addition to wasd. let me keep my hand on the mouse instead of constantly having to switch (update: after 10 hours in-game i found out you can also press E, still stupid)

- why cant i just go up to people and ask them shit. why do i have to wait until they want to talk to me.

- i do like the whole settlement building thing. ive been having more fun with that than anything else tbh

- it is nice that you can make radaway and you dont have to rely on scavenging or bartering for it

- they are harsh on the raiders. like i get that they're enemies but labelling them 'raider scum' is a bit much. like thats still a person.

- in the intro thing they say war never changes at least 3 times. i get it. dont overdo it.

- also in the intro, they just say the US ended ww2 by dropping the bombs on hiroshima and nagasaki which is a VERY BOLD statement about history.

- i've barely encountered anyone who's nice. ive met preston and his friends but beyond that its basically been nothing but raiders. where are the friendly npc's? it makes the whole world feel hostile and empty

- the variety of weapons and mods is ,, actually a little too much. i don't know the difference between a pistol and a revolver, let alone what a receiver is. the game kind of expects you to just , understand what all these things mean and how to best modify your weapons. I don't. i barely know what i'm supposed to be looking at. "um yeah i definitely prefer the hardened enhanced glowsighted tempered auto pipe revolver pistol over the hardboiled standardized incendiary double barreled shotgun rifle" <- statement dreamed up by the utterly deranged

- recently encountered super mutants, why do they yell at you that they are super mutants. i know that. i mean, the character technically doesn't since no one's bothered to explain all the new creatures to him, but still.

anywho, ive only been playing for a week or so, so there might be more redeeming qualities later on. but so far im not very impressed

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

Excellent post on Hand of God! I've thought of Hand of God as a thesis statement for FUCT for a long time, especially in light of this quote from an interview I think you'd enjoy:

HP:  I don’t think it has at all. People want to discuss your hair more than your music. Speaking of which, the album lyrically seems to point to two people or a before and after concept. Which is it?

 PW:  The interesting thing with the first song ‘Our Lawyer…’ can be taken so many different ways it is tongue in cheek whilst watching yourself from a distance. The whole album is very voyeuristic and all about watching this thing happen. On the last record we just wanted anybody to listen. Anybody. We were just dudes from the suburbs of Chicago and we had put out a sticky mess of a record that some people had latched on to and dissected. Before we put out this record we knew that people would pick apart every single word. There are these two sets of songs on the record, but rather than it being two different people it is the dichotomy within one person. The idea of this hyper arrogance versus hyper shyness, or this person who is addicted to the truth versus this person who considers himself a liar. These two are fighting within one person.

 HP:  Narcissistic as it depreciates the object and the owner for his choice of subject.

 PW:  Absolutely. That is the interesting thing, if you are willing to sit here and tear every single person you know apart then you should be able to tear yourself apart too. The best writers of all time engage in that activity. People like Bukowski you can watch them just shred themselves right before your eyes. And then shred everyone else too. It’s like the murder suicide with the pen where everybody goes.

 PS:  This record is self referential to the point where the first song on the record is musically a stab what was our biggest hit before then ‘Where Is Your Boy’. It is pretty hidden but I arranged it so it is an alternate universe version of it. My reasoning for doing that was that the lyric was so great at lambasting everything we had been up to that point.

 PW:  There is also a part on that song that says ‘Hey, here is everything you are going to say about us next year, fuck you, we just said it.’

 PS:  Totally, so I thought, give it the right backbone and make it like our biggest song but not.

Interview here [x]

WOAUGH THANK YOU SM FOR THIS???? I really feel a lot of very big ways about Hand of God, it's FASCINATING on so many levels and I'm using it as a jumping off point for a lot of dissection I'm doing in an essay I'm writing rn (which started out as just an analysis of LFTOS, but it's... way more now lol I decided I had a lot more in me that couldn't just fit under one song 😅)

this interview really is like... yeah that's what it is. fuck you, we said it before you did. it's like tauntingly sticking their tongues out at the critics, yknow? which is about half of what Hand of God is imo, with the other half being this absolute raw honesty that does feel horribly poignant considering where Pete's mental health was at that point. there's a lot tied up in that song and it really is a layer underneath all of FUTCT in my mind, you can see the same themes and thoughts and feelings showcased through the album that are really pinpointed and said in very plain words in Hand of God.

thanks so much for sending me this fr! it really makes you Think