#unsure if anyone will need that tagged! but just to be safe.

[diamantent]

I have so much to write out about this and I'll start here — despite the bold and sure-minded way Seki presents himself, he's got a lot to work on when it comes to being a leader. He'll freely admit that — it's not a secret.

What he doesn't discuss about that mindset is a bit more personal. See, the title of clan leader isn't passed down from parent to child, but it just happened to wind up that way in his experience. He was raised in that way where his parents put him on a bit of a pedestal because he was quick to befriend a pokemon ( his eventual leafeon ) and he had a natural leadership among the kids his age. It also helps that he's so wholeheartedly outspoken about his belief in mighty Sinnoh.

That pedestal carried on to the others in the clan, and he was encouraged time and time again to take the position. He leaned into it, finding it a satisfying idea to one day be leader. When he was ready for it, of course.

He lost both of his parents in the same incident ( which also left him with the scars he carries to this day ) and the title was just thrown onto him immediately after. The Diamond Clan needed a leader. They needed someone with the experience and the personal connection to the two they'd just lost — and who better than the son who was told he was meant for it from the start?

The rest of the clan knows. They know not to bring it up too much. Now and then he'll get an assurance that they'd be proud of him, but discussing the events with anyone from the Galaxy Corps, from Jubilife, and Sinnoh forbid from the Pearl Clan — out of the picture. You've got to get to know him before he'll talk about that.

[thornrings]

my friends [id in alt]

+ bonus gaster...

[batterygarden]

trapped in a bomb shelter with your big bro naoya

cw: big bro! naoya x fem & afab! reader, dead dove do not eat, misogyny! (and it's my kink so it's not like.. refuted), mild degradation (naoya calls u dumb), but naoya's sweet too, depression and nihilism, masturbation (both of u), sorta dubcon (tagged), fingering, and light mentions of: p in v, somno, cunnilingus, bondage, cowgirl, humiliation kink (on you), naoya being possessive, 1.7 k words

18+, minors don't interact

It’s surprising when the attack is announced how quickly Naoya moves to grab you. The gears in your mind haven’t even processed the news—that doomsday is upon you—by the time your brother has you snatched up in his arms and he’s running. 

Most of the clan’s away at a local festival—a whole kilometer’s walk from the great zenin estate and the bomb shelter your esteemed (and wealthy) clan head installed. You and Naoya are the only ones to make it in time. 

Naoya has never been the warmest big brother. In fact, there have been plenty of times where you thought you hated him. But at the end of the day you know he cares for you—even if it’s in his twisted, roundabout way. Still, enough that you were his first and only priority to shove into the little bunker beneath your estate surprised you a bit. 

You aren’t sure Naoya thought his decision out—you know he didn’t have time to properly. The way he rushed to your room and scooped you in his arms, no pit stops before locking the thick bunker door closed behind him—before anyone else had the chance to join. It ended up being for the best, explosions outside were heard only too shortly after—still, you hope he doesn’t regret it.

You’re nearing day 10 inside your small shelter, and if the shaking ground and dire radio warnings Naoya managed to pick up are any indicator—the world outside isn’t going to be inhabitable again for a while. 

Naoya is handling things better than expected. He’s thrown himself to small tasks—keeping the mind sharp he calls it. He’s less grumpy than he could be—resilient. Honestly the one lacking in mental fortitude is you.

“You can’t just sit there watching me do push ups. You need to move around too, dummy.” 

“Nii-san im starting to lose the point.”

“The point?”

“I don’t understand why anything matters anymore if we’re all that’s left.” 

He wipes sweat from his brow, glaring at you while he drinks some water. 

“You just said it. Things still matter because we are still here. Eventually outside will be safe again and we’ll get out and start over. Don’t get all stupid and weepy in the meantime.” 

You try to stay occupied, you try to do as Naoya says, but still, you struggle. Spending day after monotonous day trapped in here, you can’t help but start to get depressed.

Then one day Naoya says he needs to touch himself. 

And there’s no room for you to avoid him while he does. You’re uncomfortable—-giving him a look that conveys it. But he insists he has to. 

“I’m a man. Don’t be dense.” 

Before you know it his cock is out and he’s fisting it at a leisurely pace, leaning back on the bed with his other hand. You face away from him, trying and failing to focus on rereading your book. But then he says your name, and when you look he’s still exposed and hard, but he beckons for you to come closer. He isn’t satisfied with your closeness till you’re sitting beside him on the bed. 

He’s still stroking himself slowly when he says: “You need this, too. Touch yourself.” 

You freeze for a minute then shake your head. Is this some kind of test? It’s shameful…

“Saving yourself for marriage doesn’t matter anymore if we’re all that’s left. You’re practically mine now anyways, since our entire clan is obliterated. It’s just me ‘n you.”

...You need to collect your thoughts. In the first place… you’re unsure how far you could get away with disobeying your big brother. He’s been somewhat softer in the shelter, better behaved than he was outside, at least. But you haven’t forgotten the way he used to act when he didn’t get his way… conniving and nasty—you’ve witnessed his wrath more times than you can count. Notably, though, It wasn’t ever pointed at you—his attitude towards his little sister has only ever been mischievous at worst. He’d simply mock and pick apart, invade your personal space and mess up your hair—though you’re sure he’d have been much worse if you didn’t go out of your way to be inoffensive. All in all, a hard no from you now would be a first inside the shelter. 

Then there’s the honest truth of the matter: he’s right. Naoya may as well be the last person on earth for all you know, and you have been going crazy with hormones and neediness—but too afraid to touch yourself with no alone time. It’s a week after your period so you’re pretty sure you’re ovulating, and Naoya’s been walking around shirtless, acting just as touchy as always, but kinder than usual—and it’s not like he’s unattractive. 

It’s sick that you’re even considering it. Touching yourself at your brother’s command—you’re a daughter of a distinguished clan! Maybe this little bunker truly is making you crazy…

In the end, the same idea that’s been infecting your mind constantly post doomsday wins out: nothing matters anymore anyways. 

That thought is how you justify laying back on the bed beside your brother, stripped of your robes and spread-legged, two fingers pumping in and out of your pussy while you buck against your palm. 

Naoya’s sharp eyes watch from beside you, never missing a thing while he continues stroking his cock. You’re so relieved to be giving your pussy attention after so long, you don’t even dwell on how messed up it all is. 

After a while of trying to cum but barely reaching that special spot inside you to do so, Naoya can’t take watching anymore. 

“My sweet sister, how old are you, again? You can’t even make yourself cum?” Naoya tucks his hard-on in the waistband of his pants, focusing entirely on you. 

The mattress squeaks as he scoots closer, large hand around your ankle to spread you wider for his gaze. 

You stop pumping your fingers, giving him a slow stare. He frowns. “No, no, keep trying. Let me see what’s the matter.” 

So you do, working yourself up while you and Naoya watch each other, humping your palm when you get close again. You whine, biting your lip while you brush against the part inside you that feels best. Still, it’s not enough. You’re on the edge of tears searching for that release when—

“Okay, stop, sweet thing. You clearly need a man to do this.” 

You pant while you look up at him, remembering what exactly is going on here when you pull your messy fingers away. It only makes you wetter when you think of the nastiness of it all.

“Nii-san?” 

It shouldn’t surprise you when his fingers replace yours, but it does, Naoya’s warm touch with no warning earning a little jump. 

He doesn’t comment, only sets to work with his middle and ring finger sinking deep into your hole, curling right where you need them but couldn’t reach yourself, pressing his thumb to your clit at the same time. 

It feels heavenly. So good you almost close your eyes, but you can’t somehow. You wouldn’t want to lose a glimpse of Naoya—his eyes are transfixing. 

And, like always, Naoya watches you back.

His expression while he does is patient and relaxed in a way that reminds you of when he helped you with homework or something as a kid. Patient and bored if you ever struggled or needed help—like he always had low expectations for you. You suppose that’s why he had so much more patience for you than he did for other family members—your shortcomings were at times endearing while those he thought were supposed to be strong had stricter standards. 

Ultimately, an inability to make yourself cum seems like something Naoya expected of you. 

And he wasn’t lying about his ability to help—his bigger fingers fit inside you just where you need them, and it takes your brother only minutes to earn your release, clamping down on him while you make a mess on the bed, crying out and arching—after edging for so long the orgasm lasts what feels like forever. 

Noaya fucks you after that. He may as well, he tells you—he still needs to get off and it’ll feel good for you this way too. And he’s right, he may as well. It’s the end of the world and your brother may as well fuck you. And of course his cock feels amazing—it manages to feel like a solace in this bunker where nothing matters. 

After that day, miraculously, you start to perk up. Naoya figured out the key to your depression, the key to keeping you occupied—it’s sex. Everyday your big brother fucks you and every day you get better. 

Things stay interesting because when you’re fucking every day—you experiment. Or at least, Naoya does—he’s the creative one between the two of you, you’re just along for the ride. 

You wake up in knots of rope one morning with Naoya’s tongue between your legs—you’re in the middle of an orgasm. He splits you open on his cock afterwards for good measure. He lets you ride him another day, something you’re fairly sure he���s never let a woman do. You cockwarm him while the two of you read a book at the same time—it’s silly. He’s kept you tied up almost an entire day before, doing whatever he wanted, exposed and embarrassed. You’re his little cock sleeve of a sister, he says. 

“You know I’m actually glad that at least this way, stuck in here, no other clan can have you. They wouldn’t deserve you as a wife, not one of them. It’s a silver lining—this way, you’re all mine.” 

[untolduttering]

Desires

Summary: Law does routine check ups on all the crew members, and decides to take advantage of the situation when it’s your turn.

Tags: nsfw, medical setting, inaccurate medical practice, I would say dubcon just to be safe, medical malpractice, vaginal fingering, piv, unprotected sex, female reader

Word Count: 3k

In order to keep a healthy and functioning ship, Law had each crew member do a monthly check up with him. Simple and short, it was merely to give anyone the chance to bring up possible ailments or small issues that may have gone under the radar. You hadn’t known about this routine when you first joined as Law wanted you to get comfortable with your new life on the Polar Tang. Now that months had passed and you were melding in smoothly, it was time for your first one. As you approached the infirmary, your nerves were getting the best of you, and now wished you had asked Ikkaku what you were in for.

Unsure what to do once at the door, you knocked, and heard Law call, “Come in,” right after.

“Captain,” you said as you gently closed the door.

“Y/n-ya. I’ll need you to strip down and put on the gown on the bed, if you’d please,” he gestured to it with his hand. “I’ll step outside while you do so.”

You froze, caught completely off guard. You didn’t know what to expect, so nothing should have really thrown you, but this was completely blindsiding.

“Strip down? Like take off… everything?” You asked.

“Yes,” he said as he got up. “Just the gown.”

You swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”

He nodded back as he passed you and left the room.

In the time you’d been on the Polar Tang, you had developed some sort of feelings for your captain. The idea of having to be nude in front of him left your skin buzzing, both in excitement and dread. But you wouldn’t be naked, you’d have a gown on. You picked up the said gown and rubbed the material between your forefinger and thumb. The material was thick like normal clothes, and so technically, you wouldn’t be naked in front of him at all.

On the other side of the door, Law was questioning his morals. No, this was not standard procedure. There wasn’t any point in making his crew change clothes, not when it was a ten minute check up. Ever since you joined, you had been this annoying itch in his skin. You sat deep beneath, somewhere he couldn’t reach, something he didn’t know what to do about. He imagined all the ways he could have you, either between your legs or in that special place in his chest. And so he gave himself this one thing, this one abuse of power, and that was it. He’d give some reason why the next time he didn’t make you change, that the first time is different, more thorough possibly. He just wanted to have the knowledge this one time that you stood before him with nothing beneath that gown. Just this once.

After changing into the gown, you folded your jumpsuit and underwear, setting them on the corner of the bed with both bra and panties buried deep inside the suit. You took off your boots and socks as well, and set those at the foot of the bed. Sitting propped on the edge with ankles crossed and hands pressed into your lap, you called out, “Okay. I’m ready.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to keep your gaze on his face, instead opting for his chest and the stethoscope around it. You missed his heavy lidded gaze, and wrote off the momentary jump his chest made when he inhaled sharply.

He was regretting this indulgence heavily now. Staring at your exposed legs, he was caught by the part of the gown that was hitched up, showing more thigh than he had anticipated. He felt ridiculous about how little he was getting riled up over. And still he needed more.

“Any concerns before we begin?” he asked.

You wracked your brain, but nothing ached, there wasn’t any lingering pain from past issues. Just the usual bumps and bruises that came with maintaining a pirate’s life. “No.”

“Alright. I’ll be starting with your heart and lungs. I’m just looking for any abnormalities, like an irregular heartbeat or a struggle with breathing. I’ll need you to lean forward so I can access your back.” He washed his hands as he spoke and put on a pair of gloves.

You did as he asked, staring hard at the floor as you waited. You watched his feet approach and stop to your right. The cold from the stethoscope made you jump, and almost like it was instinctual, Law lightly grabbed your knee, as if to steady you. Your heart began to pound wildly, and the heat began to grow in your cheeks. He’d know it was his touch that made you nervous, and then he’d ask you why, and you’d have to tell him that just his mere presence made you light-headed, and so of course your heart was going to explode from his hand. And then he was never going to come anywhere near you again. Your damned heart was going to ruin it all.

But he didn’t ask about your heartbeat. He only asked for a few deep breaths before he stepped back, taking the plugs out of his ears and resting the whole thing back on his neck. “Sounds good,” was all he said. He didn’t admit that your nerves pleased him, that it might mean you felt something towards him. But he tried to smother it. He was not something that anyone could possibly desire.

“Alright, now for your eyes. Similarly, I’m looking for any abnormalities, something like cloudiness or an irregularity in the iris or pupil.” He pulled a slim cylinder from his array of tools, and asked you to open your eyes wide and to stare at his right ear. He turned it on, and a bright light blinded you. You didn’t move, doing your best to do as he asked and be a star patient. You always felt the need to find some sort of approval from him, as he wasn’t the type to give it out liberally, and that made it even more worthwhile. He switched to the other eye, asking you to look to his left ear. He stepped back, murmuring, “Good, good.”

“Now I’ll be looking into your ears. I’m just looking for any irritation, anything foreign, blockage, or possible damage both to the ear canal or the eardrum.” He grabbed one of the many tools displayed across the counter. Softly, he grabbed your chin and tilted your head so that he could look. This sudden and continuous intimacy was overwhelming; he had never touched you before. It simply must be how it went with everyone else on the crew. With the way he usually spoke to you, it was clear he held no secret fondness just for you. This was just work. When he switched sides, his leg pressed against yours, and he kept it there. You didn’t know exactly what about this was bringing him so close, but you hoped it would never end.

“I have to check your throat now. If you could open your mouth and stick your tongue out, please.” Once again, you did as told. You expected him to reach out again for one of his tools, for him to just simply look in, but instead his forefinger and middle finger were pushed in and pressed down on your tongue. You let out a small and surprised yelp. You squeezed your thighs together, tight, against the shot of pleasure you felt, and grabbed onto Law’s coat.

Law knew damn well this was not the right way to do it. He had those wooden sticks, neatly tucked away in a glass jar. But he needed to feel the warmth of your mouth, the slick of your spit wetting his fingers. His left hand immediately gripped your thigh as soon as that sound left your mouth. Law wasn’t really seeing, he couldn’t focus on anything but how you felt beneath his hands. He slowly dragged his fingers down your tongue, savoring the sight before fully removing them. He didn’t move away though, nor remove his other hand. He was incapable of it. Belatedly, he registers the hands gripping his coat. His eyes meet yours.

You immediately let go and leaned back, misreading his look as one of questioning and annoyance. Heat burned your cheeks as you held your mouth open, waiting for his next instruction.

He cleared his throat and managed to pull himself away. “You can close your mouth. Everything looks fine.”

Law turned away, and stood back in front of the counter. He looked to be contemplating something, staring at the items splayed before him without touching them. He rested his hands on the counter, a finger on his right hand tapping and tapping away. Nerves started to claw at your stomach.

“I’d like to do a vaginal exam,” he said suddenly. Your stomach swooped and your head felt light immediately.

“You can say no, it’s not necessary, it’s merely on offer, a precaution.” Law was cursing himself. He was being unbelievably stupid, he knew it, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. He stayed facing the wall, rigid and unmoving. It was a gamble and one that he immediately regretted. If you said no, it would marr the way you looked at him for the rest of both of your lives. It was too far of a jump from a regular exam, you’d see right through it and know him for the pervert he was. He was being gross and was crossing too many lines, all for the slim chance you might accept. And if you did, then what? What the fuck was he doing right now?

A different war was going on in your own head. It was an intimate and vulnerable suggestion, one that would bring him closer than ever before. Could you let him do something like that? What even would he do? Would he simply look, or would he stick his fingers in like he had just now? The thought sent another pleasant shiver through you, and the heat at your core was building once again. Fears and nerves and need made you so unsettled, and the need for him to touch you became unbearable all of a sudden. It was a professional formality, nothing more, and you were taking more from it than he was, turning it into something it wasn’t, but you didn’t care. He didn’t have to know you were enjoying it, that it was something you were going to use to get off to later, and multiple times more after that. It made you feel dirty but you didn’t care.

“Yes,” you said. “I’m okay with that.”

Law finally looked at you, the surprise clear on his face. For a second, you feared that you missed something, some queue that meant you were supposed to say no. But then his face cleared, he nodded, and placed himself in front of you.

“I’ll need you to lift your legs up. I can position them for you, if you’d prefer.” Law was barely keeping himself together. He couldn’t believe you agreed, and didn’t want to make the wrong move and ask for him to stop. His entire self was currently a sea of desire and self hatred.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’d prefer that.” Your voice was soft, anxious over spoiling the moment as well as what came next.

Law nodded, and pushed your gown all the way up your thighs. He was desperately trying to keep his hands still, to keep his composure and professionalism. But the more skin he exposed, the farther he took it, the more he started to lose it. He then gently grabbed both of your knees, and proceeded to lift them and push them to your chest.

All the air rushed out of Law’s lungs as you were now fully exposed to him. You could hear it as it happened, and as you watched his face for further reaction, you saw his tongue dart out to quickly wet his lips. It was not exactly what you had expected, but it was an ideal one nonetheless.

As he let go of your legs, pressed your toes into the mattress to keep yourself in the position he placed you in. Law’s movements seemed slower, and his eyes never left your pussy.

“I’m…” he trailed off, his emotions finally breaking through the barrier he’d placed. “I’m going to put my fingers in now, okay?”

You nodded, noticing that he did not give the medical reasoning behind it. It didn’t matter to you, as long as he touched you.

He slipped one finger in, emitting a small sigh from you. It went in easily, the wetness having already coated your hole. He curled the digit, just barely moving it in and out, feeling around your walls. Law placed his other hand just beneath your thigh, leaning in closer, terribly focused. He felt your walls tighten at his touch and proximity, and began to feel smug.

“Feels nice in here,” he said. It came out breathy, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Feeling bold, he added another finger, and reached deeper. You rocked your hips forward and let out a whine.

At this, Law finally meets your gaze. He looked to your mouth and leaned in close. His eyes flit back to yours, to your mouth, and then your eyes again, asking. His eyebrows furrowed. Pleading. You barely nod before his lips are smashed against yours. Law is a starved man, and he devours you greedily. He pulls his fingers out and rips off his gloves, desperate for that skin to skin contact. You buried your hands into his hair and moaned into his mouth. It was messy and heated, kissing until it became a sloppy make out. You parted your lips to let his tongue in, and Law did not hesitate to explore your mouth. His hands had moved to grip your thighs, keeping them in position and kneading them as he did so. They moved lower and lower, teasing. He inserted his fingers into you again, and started properly pumping them in and out. You pulled away to breathe and moan, and Law took the opportunity to latch onto your neck.

It was divine to finally have those skilled doctors fingers inside you, working you open. He scissored them as he went, his palm hitting your clit again and again, and it was better than all those daydreams. His mouth was hot where he sucked on your skin, and each playful scrape of his teeth made you groan.

Law kept a fast pace, his fingers hitting that spongy sweet spot again and again, but it wasn’t enough, you wanted more.

“Law,” you breathed. “I want you.”

He lifted his head and pressed his mouth to your once again, muttering, “You want me? Say what you want.”

You whined again before saying, “I want your dick. I need you to fuck me.”

He hummed and said, “You do?”

He could be so frustrating, such a tease. Huffing, you said, “Law, please.”

He finally obliged, taking his fingers out and licking them clean before working his belt undone and unzipping his pants. He pushed them and his underwear down just enough to pull his cock out. Law dragged his tip through your folds, coating himself in your fluids and relishing the way his actions made you squirm. Right before you were about to complain, he pushed himself inside, taking it slow to let you adjust. It wasn’t all that thick, so the burn of being stretched was pleasurable, but it was long, and he was deep by the time he bottomed out.

“You feel good, pretty girl?” Law asked.

“Yeah.” You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I feel good.”

Law pulled himself out, till just the tip was still barely inside, before slamming himself all the way back in. You cried out, your back arching, and Law kept fucking into you, setting a brutal pace. Every accidental brush of your hand against him, every longing look he gave you when you weren’t paying attention, and every ache that Law felt when he was near you was put into each thrust. He wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you close, until your chests where flush against each other. To have you so close to him was making him wild, and to have you mewling and crying out into his ear made him go positively insane. That added with the way your walls squeezed around him made him want to never let you out of his sight ever again.

Your own thoughts were completely filled with Law. It was impossible to think of anything else. The way he held you so close and slammed into so wantonly, your skin making lewd slapping sounds and the wet squelching of your cunt being fucked, that it was him filling you up so nicely, it all was so overwhelmingly good that it made tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Incoherent sounds spilled from your mouth, and as the heat started to build in your lower stomach, you whined out Law’s name again and again.

He reached down between you and started rubbing your clit with his thumb. You moaned out at the new sensation and gripped Law’s shoulders harder, nails starting to dig in.

“There you go, baby. There you go,” Law murmured, sounding strained. “Just let go for me.”

Your brain had gone blank at this point, focused on nothing but the man before you and the heat building in your core. Your words were slurred as you chanted out a “please, please, please.” The feeling built until it suddenly snapped and you came with a cry.

“There it is, just like that, so good for me.” Law’s words came out all strung together, talking you through your orgasm just as much as he was talking to himself as his own came closer. He kept rubbing your clit as he fucked you through your high, pushing you close to overstimulation. At a final pulse from your pussy, Law came inside you. He removed his hand and pulled you close again, his hips stuttering as he finished.

Law rested his forehead against yours, both of you panting and trying to collect yourselves. Once you caught your breath, you broke the silence.

“Did I pass?” you asked.

Law groaned and rolled his eyes as you giggled. He pressed a kiss to your mouth before saying, “Yeah, you did.”

[faemingi]

𓇢𓆸 solace in us

ateez! song mingi x reader ᡣ𐭩

summary; your boyfriend comforts you thru health concerns and fertility issues

pairing; song mingi x afab!reader

word count; 2.2k

tags; comfort, fluff, grief

trigger warnings; infertility, reproductive illness !!

notes; personal to me — ♡

ᡣ𐭩

my dream had always been to be a mother.

and after meeting mingi, that desire grew into an aching need. the thought of us blossoming into such a testament of our love as that filled me with not only joy for my own dream, but euphoria at the thought of getting to be the person who makes him a father. he was young, i was young, but i had never met anyone with as much love to give as he did, and i felt in my heart that he could and would be the best parent.

he was aware that i was no longer on any form of contraceptive, and while we weren’t purposefully trying to conceive, we weren’t actively trying to prevent it. it wasn’t really a thought for either of us, and the way we were intimate was never careless nor with the sole intent to get pregnant. but we both shared the idea that we wanted a family together in the future, and my greatest hope was that i would be able to surprise him with the news that he was going to be a father.

i sat beside him on my couch, my chin resting against my knees as my thighs were brought up to my chest. he was sleepily watching the movie we’d put on an hour prior, but my drowsy eyes could only focus on him. he was unaware of my staring at him, and i giggled quietly, causing his attention to turn to me.

“what?” he asked, blissfully ignorant to the fact that i hadn’t been paying a bit of attention to the TV. his bare, clear skin without makeup adorning his eyelids, playful concern spreading across his face as i struggled to answer. i shook my head, unsure of why the bliss i felt was causing me to laugh.

“i just love you,” i said softly.

his bashfulness caused the soft pink of his cheeks to darken, while i knew he wasn’t shy about his affection, but just flustered when i professed my adoration for him unprompted. he reached out, pulling me against him, and i snuggled closer into his chest. his scent was so comforting, welcoming, him. i hated the way that his presence made me sleepy from how safe i felt, because i wanted nothing more than to stay awake 24/7 showering him with kisses and praise.

he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “i love you more than anything.” another kiss, his lips against my hair longer this time. “anything.”

we fell asleep on the couch that night.

•

the next day, i was sat on the bathroom floor. i was struggling to keep quiet, but devastation was debilitating me, and stifling my sobs was becoming more and more difficult by the second. mingi was still here at my apartment, but he was in the other room, and in his usual fashion i knew he was waiting patiently impatient for me to return.

it was the fourth time my late period came with not one, but two negative pregnancy tests, and the knowledge i had of my cycle had made it almost impossible for the timing to have been wrong. i wrapped the plastic tests in toilet paper and shoved them down into the trash can, and stood up to wipe my eyes. splashing my face with cold water, wiping my nose, trying to convince myself it was okay, nothing helped. every time i felt a sliver of peace, it was broken with the reality of the circumstances. it took forever to catch my breath and gain the courage to return to mingi’s side.

when i opened the bathroom door, however, he was standing directly behind it, staring at me with a worry and fear i had never seen in his eyes before.

“what’s wrong?” he asked. “you were crying?”

i felt paralyzed, my blood frozen cold in my veins. we were both too nervous to speak.

he finally reached out, taking my hand in his. “please, please tell me.”

i didn’t want to speak, it felt as though i couldn’t. “i… i’m sorry for worrying you —”

he reached up to wipe a tear from under my eye. “talk to me. that’s what i’m here for.”

“my… my period was late,” i stuttered out. “but i took two tests and they were negative.” my voice broke at the end of my sentence. i hated that i felt so broken up over this. his love and his presence was more than enough, my happiness wasn’t reliant on being a mother.

“oh,” he pulled me into him, breathing out a sigh of relief and sadness. “baby, it’s okay.”

“no, it’s not,” i sniffed. “i feel so broken.”

“you’re not broken.” he rubbed my back and he squeezed me tighter. “you are so perfect.”

i cried into his shirt for a while longer, and as perfect as he is, he was there with me until i got through it.

•

my new doctor had ordered testing. they wouldn’t have been as concerned, if symptoms outside of not getting pregnant hadn’t also been present. bloodwork, ultrasounds, MRIs. the results were all to be discussed with my doctor at once, and i waited anxiously as the days passed before i met with her.

mingi clutched my hand, rubbing his fingers on my skin reassuringly, my knee bouncing rapidly. i had protested him being present for this appointment, yet he expressed the need to be there for me, and while he respected me immensely, i decided that his accompaniment would be beneficial in the long run. and i was right, as the news delivered by my doctor made my brain pull the parachute cord, and i was outside my body for the entirety of our conversation.

if he was upset, he masked it well, as he held my hand and took care of speaking to the doctor on my behalf. it was hard for me to cry in the presence of medical professionals, so i was frozen, the lump in my throat aching so bad i thought i might throw up. the doctor’s professionalism came across as apathetic, though the sadness in her eyes at having to share the results with me was apparent. bicornuate uterus, external endometrial adhesions, fallopian blockage, hydrosalpinx… she couldn’t fathom how the pain was tolerable for me, or how these things hadn’t been caught sooner. she was apologetic. she said she was sorry the health care system and medical industry had failed me. she said we could discuss other treatment options at a later date when i was ready. for now i was being put on a form of birth control, hormonal drug, contraceptive to help the symptoms and shrink the growths.

back in the car, mingi held me, and i cried.

•

when we returned home, my heart broke at my inability to be present for mingi, but i went straight to bed. i laid down, my blinds closed and the lights out, and covered myself with my blanket. it was cold in my apartment, beginning to rain outside, and i knew that the cool air would be a comfort as my tears burned my face.

the hum of the air conditioning overpowered the sound of footsteps, and i was startled by mingi joining me in bed.

“you don’t have to -”

“i want to,” he interrupted.

his arms slid around me from behind, pulling me close into being his little spoon, and he held me tight, resting his hand under my shirt, right on my lower belly between my hips.

as soon as his warm fingers spread across my skin, i couldn’t stop the tears. he pressed a kiss to my back, his forehead against my shoulder. “i wish i could take your pain away.”

i sniffed. “i’m glad that you don’t have to.”

his lips were warm against my skin, his voice soft and quiet. “baby, i hate to see you in pain.”

i struggled to speak. “i won’t be able to make you a father.”

i felt him take a shaky breath, and he gently grabbed my arm to turn me over and face him. he had taken so much initiative and cared for me so much in the short while that i’d been struggling, so i didn’t resist when he wanted to speak to me directly. i just didn’t want to see his face knowing i was causing him to cry.

but when i looked at him, he was giving me the saddest smile, tears welling in his eyes. “and i won’t be able to make you a mother,” he said, touching my face gently. “it’s not your fault. i wish so badly that i could give you the same.” he leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “but we have so much time and so many options.”

i felt unworthy of such love and kindness. “it makes me feel so worthless,” i said. “i knew something was wrong. i just didn’t expect it to be that bad. i didn’t expect my body to be that fucked up.”

he traced his thumb along my cheekbone to wipe a tear away. “it’s not fucked up. nothing about you is fucked up. it is not your fault.” he kissed my nose. “today, i love you more than i ever have. and there is nothing worth more than your love to me.”

•

he wasn’t in bed when i woke up the next day. i figured he had stepped out briefly for something, but i didn’t question or worry. he had a habit of leaving without waking me if he thought he’d be back before i got up for the day.

i checked the time, though, and it was almost noon. i sleep a lot when i’m sad. and i sleep so deep. i could barely keep my eyes open.

mingi held me all night, until i was able to relax. my heart still ached so heavily in my chest. but the panic was gone. i was left with exhaustion and absolute despair. it wasn’t because i felt like my purpose was to be a mother, or that my happiness relied on it, or that i was failing mingi. it was because i was sick, my body was broken, and i had a chronic disease inside of me that made my future unclear and scary.

that was the worst of it. the infertility was just the icing on that cake.

i heard the front door open, and got tense at the same time that i felt comfort from mingi’s return. he was quiet as he moved about the kitchen, his movements gentle and silent for — what i KNEW was — my sake. he would’ve parted the seas for me, had i asked.

i didn’t hear him walking towards the bedroom, yet i heard the sound of a small bell jingling, and stayed still to listen closer. it couldn’t have been his keys, but i was unsure as to what it could’ve been otherwise. i hadn’t heard a sound like it before.

just as i sat up, a little gray and white kitten with a bell hanging from her collar came running into the room.

my mouth immediately fell open in shock, throwing the blankets off of me to join the kitten on the floor. i got to my knees to get a closer look, and behind the kitten followed my sweet mingi.

i looked up at him in awe, and he grinned happily.

“you didn’t,” i said. he joined me on the floor, crossing his legs, sitting right beside me.

he lifted the kitten up and set it in my lap, and i held my hands up, unsure what to do, but the little baby curled up on my lap and stared up at me, bright blue eyes looking calm and curious.

“it’s a girl,” he said. “i had been wanting to surprise you for a while but… after yesterday, i figured it was the right time.”

“oh, mingi,” i whispered, reaching down to pet her. she immediately began purring and leaning into my touch. seeing her up close, i realized her collar was a pink bow, the little gold bell jingling quietly with every movement. i looked back at mingi. he was looking back at me with such love, but also waiting intently to hear about how i felt. “i love you so much. i don’t know what to say.”

“are you happy?” he asked, his concern for my wellbeing so endearing i wanted to melt.

i nodded, reaching out to pull him in, and kiss him softly on his lips. “i am so happy. this is the most amazing thing you could’ve done for me.” i took his face in both hands, looking him in the eyes. “i love you.” another kiss.

he laughed quietly, kissing me back.

“so many things are uncertain,” he said. “and all we can do is wait it out. but i hope that one thing you never question is how much i love you. how in love with you i am.” he reached out to pet the kitten in my lap. “and now, she can be a testament to that.”

he became engrossed in petting her, talking to her sweetly, but i couldn’t look away from him. he was so loving, and so giving, and so perfect. it would take me an infinite amount of lifetimes to ever begin to repay him and it still wouldn’t be enough. i would be forever indebted to his selfless devotion, yet all he asked for in return was my presence. my affection. my love.

and song mingi will forever own my heart. ♡

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Business Decisions

He's not who people might think he is.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Yoongi, Human!Reader, Unstable AU, set prior/during the Jungkook storyline, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, strangers to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, eventual smut

Length: 3k Words

-Masterlist

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Min Yoongi is, despite his looks and quiet nature, a very kind person. Or at least, that's what some very selected people will tell, if one was to ask them.  

His tail softly sways behind him as he keeps an eye on the main operational panel in front of him, while you watch. His cat-like ear snaps a bit irritated at something- when his eyes turn towards you, glaring. “can you.. stop staring?” He requests, and you nod, instead turning to look out the large window of the spaceship instead. You’re quiet, but not mute- having talked to him quite a bit before. Maybe you simply don’t speak much, or don’t put much value in.. smalltalk.  

That’s fine by him. He doesn’t either. 

He's found you- or rather, you found him- just hours earlier at an outpost, asking him to take you along to another location in exchange for a small amount of money. Where he went next you didn't care- you only needed a ride to get around, most likely used to this kind of life, since you'd obviously chosen him very specifically amongst all the other options at the bustling restaurant.

In hindsight, it made sense that you approached him despite his grim appearance- he was the shortest and least threatening looking species in that restaurant at the time, and was also one of the only one's there without any company at all. You're clearly smart about this whole process of finding a ride from one place to another-

otherwise, you wouldn't have lived like this for so long, having done this for years, according to you.

“There is.. Food over there. If you’re hungry.” He tells you, and you look over to spot the metal trunk in a corner, before you nod at him, not moving at all however. 

“I’m not.” You answer, though your stomach growls as if to disagree, making you clearly a bit ashamed of it, eyes widening at being betrayed by your own body like this. 

“Just eat. I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t want to give it to you.” He mumbles to himself, resuming his task of checking the ship’s systems again while you stay seated where he’d last told you to sit. You still won’t move, and he’s unsure why not- but he’s also aware that he shouldn’t get too invested in you. You’re gonna be dropped off next stop, and that’s gonna be it- which is for the best, because getting involved with humans is never a very good idea.  

And he’s also still on a mission to get his revenge- and secure his place in the foodchain, to be no longer seen as nothing but a docile little pet. A mission that might as well kill him- and if he can avoid pulling anyone down with him, he surely will. 

When he notices your eyes blinking longer and longer, he walks to fetch a sleeping bag from one of the other metal trunk in the corner, to offer it to you. “Sleep. It’ll still be a few more hours until we’ve reached the next outpost.” He says, and you take the sleeping bag from him with a thankful nod, before you spread it out right on the floor where you sit, to crawl into it and lay down. He has a suspicion what your way of earning money had been until now, but with your behavior so obvious, it’s very clear to him now.  

It makes him upset. The fact that you’ve been driven so far just to somehow survive.  

Either way, he stays awake to both keep himself safe just incase he’s misjudged you and your intentions, and to make sure the old and very small spaceship keeps it’s course as it sometimes tends to deviate over time due to the old navigation system. And yeah, maybe he also can’t help his instincts as well- 

Unintentionally guarding you while you sleep, eyes always checking up on you any time you move in your sleep.  

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Min Yoongi was born on Zoldos- a small, cold and relatively poor planet, which had been industrialized for ages. He remembers his father making toys out of junk he found while working at the metal factory each day, turning trash into small spaceships for Yoongi to play with.  

Most of his time however was spent with his mother, and the many children she’d foster over the years of his childhood- many of them he’d see as his sisters, as all of them would be girls given up by their families, since in his culture, they’re said to just be expensive and too much work to raise. Maybe this way of growing up, helping his mother with the young kids every day while she taught him everything he needed for his future, made him into the man he is today.  

His father had always been described as ‘unusually soft’ compared to what is usually expected and seen in his kind- Xaqal people tending to be combative, easily irritated, and quick to escalate situations into physical violence to defend themselves from others. But his father was already uninterested in any of the usual past-time activities his coworkers would indulge in, like underground fighting, or gambling- rather spending his free time home with his son, foster children and partner, which was unusual in itself. Usually, partners of his kind don’t stay together after their children learn how to walk- but Yoongi remembers that even when his mother passed, his father would continue to live at the same house, to find new homes for the remaining children, before he moved away as well once Yoongi decided to leave the planet.  

Yoongi is still in contact with his father, and doesn’t believe that he should’ve been raised any different than how he was. 

But his now rather soft and kind character comes with a price to pay- with most people on other planets not taking too kindly to him and his friendly nature at first. Friendships don’t pay your bills after all, so the first lesson the young man had to learn back then, was to toughen up, and start thinking of only yourself first and foremost. Getting attached to others was a risk to take, and would most likely end in a burden one might think of unnecessary.  

Even so, Yoongi has made friends along the way. From a very, very charismatic guy named Seokjin and his mother on Cryon, or the stoic and self-admitted younger ‘Asshole’ human-Bolku hybrid going by the name of Jungkook. But other than that, he keeps himself independent- away from others.  

However, for some reason, he’s now sitting with you on a bench on the outpost while his spaceship is being refueled, having bought you some warm food to eat, despite your active arguments against that. Maybe because you’re obviously in need of protection, or because you’re not a threat whatsoever- but he feels like he should at least make sure you’ll be okay on this outpost, before he’ll leave you here.  

Deep down, he knows it’s not the question if you end up getting into a situation where you’ll be killed- but more so, when.  

“What are... your capabilities?” Yoongi asks after a moment, watching your hands as they tear apart a piece of bread to dip it into your hot soup he bought. A warm and filling meal was a good idea to him, since it’ll keep you energized for longer than just a snack or fast food.  

You look up at him, caught off guard, as you swallow down, thinking.  

“Hm..” You hum as you think. “I.. Can read maps pretty well. And I’m good at cleaning.” You say. “But I could probably learn other things pretty quickly, if needed. It depends on the job I could get.” You explain, and Yoongi nods.  

“So if you had to learn about another species’ health and how to care for it, you could learn quickly?” He asks, and you nod.  

“If.. Given enough recourses to teach myself.” You mumble, continuing to eat. He’s getting the feeling you’ve not had a filling meal in a while with how eager you are to finish all of it.  

“I will not offer you monetary compensation.” He says, and at that, you look up again. “But instead a place to sleep, regular food, and.. Basic protection.” Yoongi explains to you, and at that, you instantly nod.  

“I can do anything!” You chirp, desperate- and he carefully pushes you back down by your shoulder, calming you down again. “Really-” 

“I believe you.” He nods. “But Be aware that I am not just some traveler.” He remarks, and you nod.  

“I understand.” You say. 

“Hm. If that’s the case-” He starts, looking over to a small shop that sells different electronics. “-I’ll get the necessary equipment to finalize our agreement. Stay here- and don’t talk to anyone.” He commands, and you nod, continuing to eat while he gets up to walk into the shop. 

Many of the people inside this shop are wearing the distinctive blinking tiny tracker around their necks- either from a simple leather collar, something more sleek like a silver hoop, or even one with a chain. It’s to be expected, as most of what is sold here is equipment for ‘personnel’, as it’s called across the galaxy, after the term ‘slave’ had been outlawed and categorized as a slur.  

Yoongi can feel the eyes on him, since the tall, green-skinned lady at the counter most likely waiting just like the rest of them for another person to follow him to buy equipment for him, as it’s normal for his kind- but the second he picks out a combination of a tracker, and EID tag, and a simple, silver collar that wouldn’t stain or sit too tight around your neck, people become interested.  

“Size is a bit small for you, kitty.” The alien woman giggles, scanning the items to add the price of everything together. “You know how to set the EID up?” She says, clicking at the end of her sentences a foreign tone, similar to an insect. 

“I know how it works.” He tells her, voice stable and monotone, something he taught himself to never give away any sign of his actual emotions. Because showing them will show weakness- and Yoongi needs to keep up an appearance of indifference at all times, just so people can never quite figure him out.  

People naturally fear the unknown, down the line, no matter the species.  

“Alright. Just out of curiosity though..” She says, clicking sounding again as she narrows her dark eyes at him while he pays. “...who the hell wants to be under the command of a Xaqal?” She says, some people in the small store giggling to themselves as if a joke had been told.  

“Someone who will live a fairly comfortable life from now on.” He simply answers, payment confirmed by her system, before he takes the bag of items, and leaves- gazes following him long after he exited the store.  

He’s relieved to still find you right where he left you, no one seemingly having tried to take you away, or worse yet- so he taps your shoulder to gain your attention, nodding towards his ship in the distance. “Let’s go. I need to set up your EID after we take off.” He says, and you nod, getting up to follow him.  

“Are- are you sure I’m a good choice?” You ask, walking after him like some lost pet, eager to keep up with his rather fast pace. For a Xaqal, he’s surprisingly tall- not quite as tall as some of the other human’s you’ve met, which normally are considered a shorter species, but also not as short as some of the Xaqals you’ve seen in the past.  

“Are you trying to sway my mind?” He wonders, opening the cargo door to his spaceship, before he climbs in- noticing how you don’t follow. So he walks back, and has to swallow down a laugh- because you clearly struggle to somehow pull yourself up on the iron steps, which are too high off the ground for you to properly reach with your legs. “...well, at least you won’t take up too much space on the ship.” He mumbles to himself, before he holds onto one of the metal handles on the sides, before he pulls you up by your arm so that you can make it onto the steps, able to finally climb inside.  

He’ll adjust the steps in the future. Maybe add one. Or rather three. 

Back in the main navigation center of the ship, where your sleeping bag is still laying in front of the front windows, you sit down right there, as if you’ve accepted this spot as your place to exist.  

The ship calms after it breaks orbit, softly flying through the empty space while Yoongi sets up the EID tag for you. The electronic identification device opens a new window on his control panel as he places it on the scanner he has, asking for him to input the necessary information- and he looks over at you, where you sit, looking out the window.  

“Once I set this up, it can’t just be undone.” He tells you, and you snap your head towards him, before you nod. “Alright.” He mumbles putting in his own information and ID number as your set ‘Employer’- scanning the chip placed onto the bone of his forearm, before he waves you over. “Put your arm here.” He tells you, and you do- though nothing is scanned at all, no matter how you twist or turn your arm. Yoongi’s brows furrow. “Where’s your ID-chip?” He asks, and you perk up, before you turn around, pointing somewhat to a spot on your back.  

“My spine- it should be between my shoulders.” You say.  

“Spine?” He mumbles, unsure. The spine is not a good spot to place an ID chip, no matter how small it is- it could still dislodge and get in between important nerves or even the vertabrae, causing damage that would be potentially fatal. “Why is it there?” He asks, picking up the scanner to run it over your back- a beep signalling that the chip had been found, and sucessfully read by the device.  

“As far as I know, most humans and Yon get it there, because its harder to get out.” You explain, having turned around to curiously watch Yoongi tap away all the info into your future identification. “Because, you know, Humans and Yon are popular Personnel. People would just chop their arms off and exchange it for a prosthetic later after they'd take them and put them up for sale. So to combat that, we get the chip on the spine instead.” You say, and Yoongi cringes to himself, realizing now why he sees so many humans and Yon people with a prosthetic.  

“I’ll research any risks to make sure you’re not doing any tasks that might end up immobilizing you.” He mumbles as he finishes up the settings, the red blinking light on the EID tag turning a steady green, signalling that it’s ready to be worn.  

“Oh, don’t worry. The chip is attached to the bone, so it doesn’t move.” You inform him, and that reassures him quite a bit, as he nods, and uses quite a lot of force to clip the tag onto the silver collar- metal snapping into place, making it hard to get it off again.  

“Alright. Come here.” He tells you, and you almost proudly stand straight, offering your neck to him as he clips the collar around you- electronic lock clicking shut, never to open again for anyone else but him. “Is that alright?” He asks, and you nod, while he tests- slipping two fingers between the metal and your neck, just to make sure it’s not too tight. “Alright.” 

“Alright.” You mirror, getting only a mild reaction from him.  

“I’ll order some books and electronic information devices for you to study. We’ll pick them up at the next outpost.” He informs you, and you nod, taking this as a signal that you’ve been dismissed- so you walk back to the sleeping bag, sitting down on it to look out the window again.  

“Can I.. sleep a bit?” You wonder, and Yoongi nods.  

“I don’t need you right now, so you can rest.” He accepts, and at that, you eagerly crawl into the sleeping bag again to sleep once more, giving him a moment to think about what he’d just done.  

He blames his instincts, the fact that his kind lives in groups and usually prefers company at all times. Maybe it’s the fact that he actually does need someone to be able to help take care of his health if a job went south. Or maybe, he just can’t shed the way he’s been raised, even though he’s not that kind person anymore. Even still, he feels odd, looking at you asleep in front of those large windows.  

Like he just got himself entangled into something a lot more complicated than he believes right now. 

[rubyin-wonderland]

Nightmare

opla!Zoro x gn!reader

Summary: when a nightmare strikes, Zoro needs comfort

WC: 1.5k

Warnings/tags: nightmare, mentions of blood and death (within nightmare), near death experience mentioned

Zoro stands in the center of an empty battlefield. He's surrounded by the carnage of a great fight, blood on the grass, weapons lying on the ground, discarded by their owners, who were most likely defeated.

Zoro hardly cares, looking around for signs of life. Whatever had happened was devastating, but he needed to know if everyone was alright.

He called for the captain first. Where Luffy was, the crew was sure to follow, but the name did not get a response.

He switched names. Yours first. He let your name settle over the field, but no answer.

He continued to call, one name after the other, hoping anyone would come and reveal themselves.

Instead, he was left alone.

He took a step forward, only to feel something underfoot.

A hat. Made of carefully woven straw, with a red ribbon around the dome. Luffy's hat.

His calls became more desperate. He held the hat, calling out for anyone as long as their name flew to his lips.

When he was done, he continued walking, hoping nothing had happened, only spurred into action when he heard the sound of clashing metal.

The sound called to him the way a light drew in a moth.

He ran, straw hat in hand, towards the sound.

There was a forest at the edge of the field, and one step into the threshold was enough to find himself deep in the wooden landscape.

He continued, the sound of metal on metal powering him forward.

He finally skidded to a stop at a clearing, now watching a giant shadowed creature hover over your body.

In your hands was a sword that did not belong to you, held aloft, keeping this figure at bay.

He stayed silent, hoping not to draw your attention, nor the attention of the thing you were fighting.

His hand went to his swords, but they were gone. His hand came up empty and he heard you scream.

"Zoro! Run!"

His head shot up to you. You were distracted. "Zoro! Get out of here!" You scream, and his heart falters. Your voice is pulled tight, and he has only ever heard that fear in your voice once. Never again, he had promised you. Never. Again.

The thing turns to look at the object of your attention, which gives you time to drive your blade into the thing's knee, causing a terrifying screech to explode from the creature as it doubles down on it's attack.

He's so used to fighting with swords he doesn't know how to help you. He's searching for things he can use to help you but the forest has nothing to offer him.

He hears your scream first, and looks up in time to see you get slashed through the chest.

You are cleaved in two, but you don't bleed. You just fall.

When he runs to your body, all he can do is watch as you fade into dust, blowing away in the wind.

He looks up, just in time to see the creature lunging at him.

Zoro wakes in a cold sweat, dazed by the visions he saw in his sleep. He needs to be grounded. He needs to know what's real and what isn't.

It wasn't unusual for him to have a nightmare, but it was usually quickly fading fear. When he woke up he would realize he was safe, and that the monsters were all in his head.

He was always a worried about you. You had been getting more and more nightmares ever since your near death experience.

Some nights, he would come back from his watch duties to find you in bed, brow furrowed, a soft sound of fear or discomfort coming from you. You usually had an outstretched arm searching for Zoro, but he was nowhere to be found.

In those cases, he would snuggle in next to you, providing you with comfort, which usually eased your struggles a little bit.

The worst ones woke you up. You would wake up, unsure if you were alive or not, and hide in a corner until you were calm.

The calm only ever came in the presence of Zoro. He would kneel in front of you, hand outstretched, and he would bring you back to reality.

He knew how to handle you when you had nightmares, he did not know how to handle himself when he had nightmares. Especially not one of this caliber.

This dream compounded on his insecurities. Without his trademark weapons he was useless, unable to help you as you fought that horrible monster all by yourself, only to distract you, allowing the monster to cleave you in half, your body disappearing before he could even grieve, and then dying by the monster as well, the echoes of your screams surrounding him as the creature came for him as well.

You were fast asleep when Zoro woke up, but as soon as you feel him shifting, his arms finding you and wrapping around close, you slowly wake.

He feels guilty when you stir, confused about what's going on, but there is a sigh of relief when you move. You're alive. And safe.

He pulls you close, embracing you quickly, arms wrapped carefully around you. You can feel his racing heartbeat and hear his deep breaths.

"Zoro?" Your voice is soft and sleepy. The words barely make the trip to his ears. "What's wrong?"

You free your arms from his grasp so you can wrap them around him. "Zoro, it's okay. What's going on?"

He doesn't answer for a second, taking a deep breath that does nothing to settle him. "Had a nightmare."

It sounds silly, but you don't laugh. You don't even break a smile. You know the power of a nightmare firsthand. You would never gain amusement from him getting one as well.

"It felt real." You rub his back gently, trying to open your eyes properly, with a few drowsy blinks that would otherwise make him melt for you.

You adjust your head on his pillow, moving to make yourself comfortable. "What happened?" You ask, making sure it doesn't sound mandatory. He can stay silent if he wants.

Your voice soothes him enough to make him relax the tiniest bit.

"I didn't have my swords and you were being attacked. I tried to help but I distracted you." He hesitates to tell the end of the story, but your eyes implore him to let it out. "It was my fault."

You squeeze him. "Do you want to get your swords?" You ask, looking beyond his body to the three swords leaning against the wall.

Zoro takes your offer, detaching one arm to grab them, hauling them over to the bed, dropping them on the blankets. His arm snakes around you again, pulling you back into the hug.

"Better?" You ask. He kisses your forehead in response, now fixated on you.

You. Perfect you. You who never let anything keep you down. You who stood up, broken and bleeding, taking what you thought was your last glimpse of him and smiling.

You who knew him more intimately than anybody else aboard. You who he could trust with his deepest secrets and his worst urges.

"You're gorgeous." He mumbled. "You're perfect." He goes quiet for a second. "How? How are you so perfect?" You giggle at how serious he looks. "I don't know, I just am."

"You are the best thing in my life." He says it so earnestly. "And you're the best thing in mine." You kiss the curve of his neck to feel the shiver that runs through his body. You can feel him squeeze you with his hands as his arms wrap tighter around you.

"I'm not going anywhere, Zoro." You say gently, hoping he knows you'll always be there for him. With him. "You have me, and as long as it is in my power, you will have me." He nods, breathing deeply, before pressing a kiss to your cheek. "You missed my mouth." You smile. Zoro does not miss again. If he focuses hard enough, everything is you. You fill his senses like a drug and he would almost be willing to stay like that, entwined with you forever. A hand abandons your body to reach up to your cheek, guiding you in the kiss.

"I love you." He whispers when he finally pulls away. "I love you too."

You feel the warmth of his body and curl into him, eyes drifting shut once more. "Do you want to go back to sleep?" He asks as you yawn.

"I should. But don't let go of me." Your voice drifts away as you snuggle into him. Your head nuzzles his chest instead of the pillow and you hum. "You're too comfortable for your own good."

He keeps you close as you doze off again, eyes drifting shut, your breaths slowing until you begin to snore. He knows he'll never lose you. He's made that promise to both you and himself long ago.

The breath of your soft snores tickle the skin on his chest, but he doesn't move. You need your sleep. And if you wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare, he'll be right there to comfort you, just as you comfort him.

[russellsppttemplates]

Sharing is caring (George Russell)

A long weekend with the Russells

Note: english is not my first language. I know this is very very very overdue, but hopefully it's still enjoyable!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: pregnancy

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Are you guys doing well back there?", you asked the kids as George drove the four of you up to his parents' house. According to the screen display, you still had a little over an hour until you arrived at George's parents house where you would be staying for the long weekend to enjoy some family time before the season picked up again.

"Does anyone need a bathroom break?", George asked, looking at Olivia and Arthur through the rear view mirror, "I'm fine", Olivia chirped in, "me too, I'm okay", Arthur added.

"You're doing okay, too?", George asked you, hand on your thigh as he drove, "I'm fine. I never want to say it too loud, but I think morning sickness stopped two weeks ago", you added.

"Little one has had enough causing raucous", George whispered, turning his attention back to the road ahead.

"We're nearly there, right, daddy?", Arthur asked as he recognised the streets as the car approached his grandparents' house, "yes, we just turn here and at the end there", George replied as you texted your mother in-law, letting her know to open the big gate so no one had to get out of the car.

"Guys, you're here! Did you have a good trip?", Allison welcomed you into the house, hugging the kids who immediately ran and hugged her legs, "grandma!!", they excitedly said.

"We did, it was fine. There was a little traffic at the end, but we were so close I think it barely bothered us", you said as you greeted Steve, walking inside the house and making sure the kids left their shoes by the door.

"I'm going to take the bags upstairs", George said, kissing your forehead, "I'll be right back", he smiled as you ushered Olivia and Arthur to the bathroom, "Y/N, here, darling, our some slippers on!", Allison offered.

Since Allison and Steve lived on their own again, as every child had now fled the nest, they updated the bedrooms, you and George staying in the guest bedroom with a double bed and the kids occupying the room they had for whenever the grandchildren stayed over.

"Lunch is ready, so when you can come down, we're waiting for you", George's mother called him as he helped you sort out the room for your children, "we'll be down in a little, thanks!".

After eating and helping tidying the kitchen, George took the kids out to the garden, hoping to use up their energy since they spent the whole morning inside a car.

"Is the swing alright, dad?", George questioned, "yes, me and Benjy sorted it out a few weeks ago. It's good as new", he answered, prompting George to take the kids to the renovated swing set.

When he was younger, he didn't spend too much time at home since racing required him to spend a lot of time away, but the times he did spend back home were filled with memories os this swing.

"Is this the old swing you told us about?", Arthur said, unsure of the whole apparatus since he heard stories from when his father and his uncle and aunt were much younger.

"Yes, me and uncle Benjy used to spend a lot of time here with auntie Cara, too! Who wants to go first?", he said as Olivia volunteered.

"It's safe, Arthur, see?", she said as she balanced her body back and forth, making her brother feel a little more comfortable with the whole thing, "I'll share it with you later, okay?".

"Sharing is important", George began, "and the fact that you guys always share is very nice, me and mummy are very proud of you", he said as Arthur picked some flowers from the grass and gave some to Olivia.

"We're siblings, of course we share everything", Arthur said naturally. It was true. For him, even if Olivia picked on his buttons a few times, he wouldn't ever not want to share something with her.

"Would you want to share your things with somebody else?", George tried as the kiss both looked at him like they didn't know what he was on about, "what I means is, would you mind having to share your things with someone else?", he clarified.

The pregnancy news were still between you and George, excluding your doctor. Because the kids could easily spill the news to somebody else and you had been specially careful so the news would stay between the people you wanted to until the doctor considered it was okay.

"I always share with my friends, too. But yesterday I had all the grapes mummy cut up for me because they were really good and I really wanted them", Arthur admitted as Olivia quirked a brow, "I think we could, yes. Even our toys, we share them too", Olivia added.

George seemed satisfied enough with the answers, hoping that when you broke the news they wouldn't have a complete meltdown.

"C'mon, Liv, it's Arthur's turn", George requested gently, the girl hopping off so her brother could have a go.

"What is mummy doing?", your son asked, "she was helping grandma with tonight's dinner when I asked if she wanted to come with us", George offered.

When they arrived back in time to have a quick shower and get ready for family dinner, you and George dressed them in comfortable clothes since it was just close family. Once they started arriving, the kids found their spot on the floor of the living room, playing with toys and colouring books while the adults caught up with eachother.

"Y/N! I haven't seen you in so long!", Cara said as she came up to you for a hug, "we've been busy, but we managed to sort some time out to come up here", you smiled, offering her the little pastries you had been working on with your mother in-law, "these are delicious!".

Excusing yourself from the group, you went to check on the kids, sitting on the sofa and getting a few cuddles from your nieces and nephews, "auntie Y/N!", one of them gasped, "you almost fell asleep while I was showing you my drawing", he said as Arthur snickered, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, you can show me again, please", you offered, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes.

"Darling, do you want some wine? We found your favourite in the shops the other day, Steve bought a couple of bottles", your mother in-law smiled as she stretched her arm to receive your glass when you were all in the dining room, "I don't, thank you for thinking of me, though", you smiled, exchanging a look with George that wasn't missed by his sister.

"I saw that!", Cara pointed out, "what was that?!", she questioned her brother, knowing he would break under her stare.

"Y/N has something to tell you", he quickly offered, passing the ball to your court as you felt everyone's eyes on you.

"This is not how it was supposed to go, but there wasn't a proper plan either, so... we are having a baby!", you announced, unfolding your leggings and letting your small baby bump show.

"Oh my goodness, another baby!", Allison cooed as your children looked at George for confirmation, "you're going to have a little brother, guys!", he said as they ran to hug you baby bump.

"I noticed your tummy was bigger, but I just thought you had a big lunch!", Arthur said, delighting everyone as they laughed, George watching everyone congratulate you before also congratulating him, "congratulations, darling", his mother kissed his cheek.

"We've been a little more careful this time around, did all the tests and in the blood test, the doctor told us were having a little boy", you smiled, kissing the top of your kids' heads as they latched onto your sides.

"Well, we can celebrate with the wine still! Some juice for you, Y/N", Steve poured in your cup.

When it came to bedtime, the kids didn't want to sleep in a separate room from you, and since the bed was big enough, you allowed them to sleep with you and George.

"That's what I'm saying, guys. It doesn't mean mummy is sick, but it means she needs our help more, she won't be able to do all things at once and it's our job to make sure she rests, as well", you heard your husband tell the kids while you brushed your teeth in the en suite bathroom.

"Time for sleep, kids", you said, lying down on the mattress, you and George brushing each of their hairs as they switched off, almost like a button, "they used up all their energy today", George began, "Did you know these two were wondering how they could help you, because they were worried that you are tired. You even fell asleep on the sofa..!", George tried his best to mimick his nephew shocked expression, earning one of your beautiful laughs.

"I love them so much", you sighed, "and I love you", you kissed his lips.

Kissing your forehead, George's hand managed to reach your bump despite the little boy latching on you like a koala and your daughter lying on top of him, drawing random shapes on it, "not as much as I love all of you".

[lincolndjarin]

Every Now and Then - ch. two

[ And if You Only Hold Me Tight ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 9.3k

summary : you spend some time tommy, you spent some time with joel.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, language, panic attacks, violence, injury, wounds, possessive behavior, toxic relationships, animal death, i probs missed some i never know how to tag so lmk if i misses anything !!

a/n : this took so long and i dont even know it its good so i'm deeply sorry about that.

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“It’s nice to meet you Ellie.” You hold your hand out across the table to her, offering your own name up in the process, noticing an incredulous look in her eyes as you say it. Of course she doesn’t shake it, you’ve worked with enough survivors her age to know how they think. 

She doesn’t trust any of this, and you can’t blame her. Every single thing she’s seen since arriving here is too good to be true, she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. That’s okay, you can be patient. She just needs to learn how to be a kid again. When she makes no attempt to move you pull your hand back, your smile never wavering. You’ve met kids in much worse condition than this, you can work with this. 

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself, Ellie.” You set the notebook you’d been writing in back down onto the table, you don’t want this to feel like an interrogation for her, it needs to be a conversation or you won’t get any of the information you need.

“Like what?” She’s slouched down into the chair, her arms crossed across her chest. She has her defenses up, she has spent her entire life protecting herself, she isn’t going to stop just because a stranger offered her a mug of tea. A mug of tea that she has notably not touched. 

“Anything you want to, or I could ask some specifics if you’d like.” You take a sip of your own tea, hoping it might show her it’s safe. She only hums in response, you decide it might be for the best if you just ask her what you need to know. “Let’s start with a few easy ones, how old are you?” 

“Why do you need to know?” 

“We need to assess your health, what classes you’ll be put in, if you’ll be needing any feminine products. I promise, anything I ask is for your own good.” Seeing kids like Ellie is a painful reminder of just how lucky your own little ones are, it’s a wonder she made it this far. You can’t hold her skepticism against her, her distrust is why she’s still alive. “Would it help if we brought your father in? He’s just down the hall with Maria.” You aren’t sure why, you typically handle every stray but she had insisted on helping you out today. She’d spewed some sort of excuse about how Ellie might need some special attention but as far as you can tell she’s in the same state that most kids are in when they arrive. 

“He’s not my dad.” She’s quick to say it, as if it’s a sore subject. 

“May I ask his relation to you then?” Maria had told you she arrived with her father, you were told to expect one teenage girl and one man in his fifties.

“He’s… my friend?” She sounds unsure, unsure enough to ring alarm bells in your head. 

“Honey, are you in a safe situation? We can help you if you need-” She doesn’t even let you finish your question before sitting up straighter.

“No, no, no, gross, it’s not like that, he’s not like that.” The look of disgust on her face brings you immense relief, this world is full of enough horrors for a young woman to face. 

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure.” Even if she hasn’t been through that, she hasn’t had it easy, no one has. But there’s something distinct in her eyes. Loss. She’s seen more than enough of it, more than anyone her age should. Her eyes keep darting to the door, her head tilts in that direction every time someone walks by. She’s worried about her companion. She doesn’t want to lose him too. “I know none of this makes sense, and you have no reason to trust me but I need you to try Ellie. And if I ask you anything you aren’t comfortable with then you don’t have to answer but I need you to try, please. The faster we finish up here, the faster you can get back to your friend.” 

She takes a moment, you’re practically holding your breath when she finally nods.

Perfect, you can work with a nod. You love a nod, a nod is all you need to help this girl.

“Let’s start with your age again.” 

“Fourteen.” You’ll have to have a menstruation kit sent to whatever house they put her in, most people’s cycles start being regular once after a few months in Jackson.

“Thank you.” All you get is another nod yet you can’t help but smile. “Do you know where you were born?”

“No.” Her eyes are trained on your shoes, occasionally darting around the room but staying low for the most part. 

“Where did you grow up?” 

“The QZ.” The thought makes you sick for several reasons. The last place a child should grow up is the streets of a quarantine zone, even if she was in the FEDRA program it wouldn’t have been easy. The thought of any QZ still makes you queasy, even after this long. 

“Which one?” Anywhere but Boston. 

“Boston.” Of course. With your luck she would be. Someone’s far from home.  

“FEDRA program?” As terrible as they are, they always keep the kids' vaccinations up to date, one less thing for you to worry about. 

“Mhmm.” 

“How old were you when you left?”

“Fourteen.” How the hell did she make it to Jackson all the way from Boston in such a short period of time? Why come to Jackson at all? There’s certainly other QZ’s between here and there, there’s probably other settlements too. 

“Can I ask why you left?” It’s not a question you need to ask but your stomach is in knots at the mention of the Boston QZ and you can’t help yourself. 

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Something flashes across her face, she isn’t trying to be rude, she simply doesn’t want to talk about it. 

“That’s fine.” You don’t need to worry about it. She doesn’t know him. There’s no reason for her to know him. QZ’s house hundreds, if not thousands, of people. There’s no reason to spiral over nothing. “Do you have any allergies that you’re aware of?”

“Nope.” She makes a popping sound on the “P” as she leans back in the chair, trying to look relaxed despite how on edge she still is. You decide not to put anymore pressure on her, it won’t do you any good. 

“How are you feeling physically? Any symptoms of illness?”

“Like infection?” You have to stifle a laugh, if she was infected the two of you certainly wouldn’t be sitting here right now. 

“I’m not worried about that, I mean something more like a runny nose or a cough.”

“Oh. No.” 

“Any skills in particular you’d like to learn? Our school system is a little less traditional than what you probably had with FEDRA.”

“I like science.” She sits up a bit, good, you’ve found something that piques her interest. 

“Then I will make sure you’re enrolled in some science classes. But I meant skills like agriculture, construction, or veterinary care. Something you could learn about that interests you. You won’t be asked to help out around town until you’re sixteen but we like to let you explore different things to see what you like-”

“Could I learn how to shoot a gun?” She leans forward before you can finish your thought. 

“You could apprentice some of the hunters, we could also have you trained for patrol and scavenging which involves gun safety and training courses. You’re a bit young for those but I’m sure I could ”

“Really?” You can tell by the inflection in her voice that she still doesn’t trust you entirely, even if she’s excited.

“Of course, you’ll probably be the youngest student in the training class but I’m sure you can handle it.” She needs something good in her life. You want to protect everyone who finds their way to Jackson but this girl makes your heart ache. Most adults you’ve worked with aren’t able to hold themselves together this long, putting on a brave face despite everything. 

“Do you like burgers?” You almost cringe as you say it, hoping she’s had food outside of the synthetic shit FEDRA produces.

“I guess?”

“I’m having a little cookout tomorrow evening once everyone’s finished their work, it’ll be small, just me and some family but you’re welcome to join. You can bring your friend, I have two little ones you can play with. They might be a little younger than your usual friends but I promise they’re great company.” You swear she almost smiles, and suddenly you just want to make this poor kid smile. “You know, I’ve got a telescope in my garage, so if you stop by it’s all yours.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely, I’ve never even touched the thing so maybe you can put it to good use. Let me write down the house description for you, it isn’t too far from this building, you can stop in whenever you want tomorrow. There’s an empty house across the street as well, maybe I could show it to you, see if you like it.” You pencil it down, tearing the paper and handing it to her. This isn’t something you’d typically do but you can’t resist an opportunity to help her feel more at home here. 

“Yeah, I mean that would be great.”

“Perfect.” You lean back in your chair. “What sort of hobbies interest you?” You’ll be in charge of putting together a welcome basket for her since Maria has marked her down as a permanent occupant.

“Reading, I like comics. And I used to draw a lot in the QZ.” Perfect, books are easy to find since Jackson was built around a small library.

“Okay then, I think that’s all I need from you for now but I’ll be around soon once you get housing settled. You can go join Maria and your friend if you’d like, I have to figure out what house we’re going to put you two in but I’ll be stopping by later with a few things for you.” That actually isn’t all you need from her, there are more questions on your mind, one specific question. Ask her what his name is. 

“Thanks.” She stands, quickly heading towards the exit as you grab your notebook, you need to make a list of everything they’ll be needing. 

You shouldn’t. If by some stroke of misfortune you’re right this question will only serve to destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to push away. You shouldn’t.

But you do. 

Before she’s out the door you call out her name, you don’t want to know, but you have to.

“Ellie, what’s your friend's name?”

You found the treehouse two months after you found Jackson. 

With tears streaming down your face you had dropped the twins off at Maria’s, mumbling apologies before going to the edge of town, a large amount of Jackson was empty, and still is. They’re planning for the future. Someday, generations from now, the town will grow and they’ll use these houses to accommodate families. But for now it’s just an empty town, one that you realized had a treehouse. You had hidden yourself away there, curling up into a ball to become as small as possible.

Tommy had found you hours later, shivering, with no more tears left to cry. And he hadn’t chastised you or asked you why you’d done it, he’d just taken your hand and walked you home. It doesn’t take him hours this time, only about thirty minutes according to your watch. You hear the crunch of his boots, the walking pattern you recognize as his, and the creak of the boards as he pushes the hatch open before sliding up into the small space with you. 

Before he speaks you’re already reaching for him, desperate to cling to some kind of familiar safety. 

“Hey darlin’.” It’s a dance you two do, fluid and instinctual as he pulls you into his arms, you slot yourself between his bent legs as he wraps himself around you. You used to sit like this when you couldn’t find shelter on snowy nights, one of the many habits you had trouble breaking when you found Jackson. Maria would never ask you to change your relationship with him, it was a decision you had made with Tommy when he told you he wanted to marry her. A part of you just sort of knew she didn’t like it, so you stopped. And you’d never hold that against her, if the roles were reversed you certainly wouldn’t be as kind as she’s been. That’s why you’ve always loved Maria, since the first day you met her she has been like a sister, patient but blunt with you. 

Except in this one instance. 

She withheld some particularly important information.

“The twins?” You lay back against him as you mumble.

“Maria’s watching them. They’re helping her make dinner, you shoulda’ seen them in the kitchen. I swear she’s the only person they listen…” His voice trails off when he feels you tensing up all over again as you go back to fighting off tears.

A silence falls between you, familiar and reminiscent of your first few days together out in the woods. And just like back then, you’re the one to break it. 

“Have you seen him yet?” The words feel small and hoarse in your throat.

“No. Couldn’t bring myself to.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, you wish you could find comfort in any of this but there’s just too much dread. Too much unease fills your stomach to relax. 

“Does he know you’re here?” You wish your voice didn’t tremble so much.

“Maria didn’t tell him.” 

“Are we sure it’s even him?” 

“Not a lot of Joel Millers walking around during the apocalypse.” It’s like he can sense your skepticism as he quickly continues. “She said he looked like a Miller.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Like me but grayer.” Fair enough.

“Does he know I’m here?” There’s no way. He couldn’t. 

“No.” 

“Good.” 

“Can’t stay that way forever.” You know that. But you don’t have anything to say about it so you move on, and redirect the anger that mixes with your confusion and fear.

“Why didn’t she tell us?” He can’t take your side in this, as much as you want him to, he has to take her side because her’s is the rational one. Do you have a side? Can you be mad at her for this? Are there even sides?

“Probably because she knew we’d react like this.” His head tilts a bit to rest against your own. You’re thankful for this position so you don’t have to look him in the eye.

“She should have told us.” You’re trying to remain calm but your voice is pitching up higher by the minute. 

“She was going to, she just didn’t know how. She thought she had more time” 

You need to relax. It feels like your heart is going to burst from your chest and you’re certain Tommy feels it too. 

“How did he find us?” He wouldn’t have been looking for you specifically, unless he had a death wish. 

“On accident, I think. Maria said he was looking for me when they found him.” That makes sense. It’s just a coincidence that you’re also here. He has no way of knowing that you even know Tommy. How he managed to locate him is another matter. 

“We’re two thousand miles away from the QZ, how the fuck did he find you?”

“He always gets what he wants.” 

You can’t argue with that. Plain and simple, you don’t need much more than that. 

“I don’t want to see him.” An impossible request, but you make it anyway. 

“We both know that isn’t possible.” 

“Tell her to send him away.” Also unlikely. 

“You know she can’t do that, we don’t turn folks away from Jackson.” 

“Then I’ll leave.”

“Like hell you will.” There is no fight in his voice, just certainty as he holds you a little tighter. Not without me. The silent promise that lingers under his words, but it’s more complicated than that now, you have two toddlers and he has a wife, there is no running away from this. No running away from him

He’s inevitable. 

It doesn’t matter if the world ends, and you run halfway across the country, Joel Miller is inevitable.

“He’s got a kid.” You mumble as you reach for his hand, entwining your fingers with his. You hadn’t realized how cold you were until you felt the warmth of his skin against yours. 

He scoffs. “He’s got two.”

“Another kid, some girl. He brought her here all the way from Boston.”

He shifts a bit, clearly confused. “Why?”

“I was hoping you’d know, it isn’t exactly in his nature to help the needy.” 

He pauses for a moment. “Well, I mean, how old is she?”

“Fourteen.” 

“Well there’s your reason, Sarah was fourteen.”

Sarah.

A girl you know very little about other than the fact that she’s your daughter's namesake. Sarah Ruth Miller. It had been Tommy’s idea, you had only picked out a name for a boy and you owed Tommy everything for keeping you alive that long, so when he asked if he could pick his niece's middle name you’d been more than happy to oblige. 

It hadn’t been Joel who told you about Sarah, he never even told you he had a kid. 

Tommy had told you about it just before the twins were born. You’d been snowed into a cabin and he’d just returned from hunting with a grin on his face as he told you he had a surprise. You couldn’t sleep, between the cold and the pain in your lower back you were just too uncomfortable most nights. Tommy always insisted on staying up to keep you company even if he ended up falling asleep most of the time. 

That night he told you about how he lost his niece on outbreak day as he skinned the fox he’d caught in one of his traps as you sat beside him in front of the crumbling fireplace. When he finished the story he held up the pelt and told you he was going to make your babies first blanket with it. 

Of course at the time neither of you knew that he would have to make a second blanket, or that he would need to do it a month sooner than either of you had planned. 

“I invited him to dinner tomorrow.” No sense in hiding the fact from him, he’ll find out either way. 

“What?” His hand tightens around yours and it’s your turn to comfort him as your thumb rubs circles against the tense skin.

“Ellie- the kid, I invited her before I knew about Joel. Even told her she could bring him.” You almost laugh at how ridiculous it all sounds now. Of course you invited him to dinner completely by accident, sounds like something you would do. 

“Then why don’t we just get it over with?” Or you could leave, brave the Wyoming wilderness with your kids and his wife and make a run for it, far, far, away from Joel Miller. 

But you can’t do that. 

So you might as well get it over with. 

“Together?” You bring his hand up to your face to warm the icy skin of your cheek.

“Together.” 

He means it. He stays with you until the next day, walking you back into town and bringing you to his house. Maria starts apologizing the second the two of you walk through the door but you just hug her. She doesn’t owe you anything, any anger you thought you felt towards her was misplaced. 

And you all settle in for the night. 

On particularly bad nights you’ll spend the night at their house. It’s been happening less and less these last few months but it’s an unspoken decision tonight as Maria brings down sleeping bags from the attic for the kids. 

You tuck the kids in by the fireplace, hoping that they don’t catch the vacant look in your eyes as you kiss their foreheads. Thankfully they both seem to be too excited about having a living room campout to notice. You hear hushed whispers from the kitchen, it sounds like an argument so you just sit on the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as you stare out the window facing the street. 

What house did she put them in? There are a few options for temporary housing, but he could be anywhere. The thought makes you nauseous. Thankfully you’re distracted when you eventually hear Maria stomping up the stairs followed by a sigh from the kitchen before Tommy joins you on the couch. 

“Everything all right?” You mumble, hoping to not wake the kids as you offer up some of the blanket to him. 

“It will be.”

God you hope so.

“How do you wanna do this?” 

Good question. 

Preferably you wouldn’t be doing this at all, instead you would be enjoying what might be the last nice day before autumn sets in entirely. You, Arthur, Ruth, Tommy, and Maria. You’d still be happy if Ellie came over by herself but that’s so unlikely you don’t even consider it an option. Joel’s too protective and you confirmed with Maria that Ellie would be coming. He won’t let her go alone, you know that better than anyone. 

You rub the back of your neck with your freehand. “The kids stay inside with Maria.” Ruth is already there, helping her aunt with the salad as Arthur sits in your lap, playing with a few stones he’s set up on the picnic table. 

“Okay.” Tommy’s biting his nails, you’d spent weeks reprimanding him about that until he broke the habit.  

Your knee starts bouncing, a nervous habit of your own that you’ve had for as long you can remember. Thankfully Arthur simply hums to himself as you bounce him. As far as you can tell neither one of the twins knows something is wrong, you can only hope it stays that way. 

“We can wait for them out here, I can ask Ellie to go in and help Maria with the kids.”

“And then?”

You frown in contemplation. “I haven’t planned that far ahead.”

“So you didn’t plan for the most important part?”

“Did you?” 

His teeth shift when you ask, biting down hard enough to split his nail lower than he intended. You watch as blood blooms there while he curses under his breath.   

“Shit, go inside and grab a bandage, they’re in the cabinet above the sink.” He stands as you wave him towards the house, he brings his thumb to his mouth, his brow furrowed. “And bring Maria and Ruth out with you when you come back so we can go over everything with her.” He nods, humming in response before he disappears behind the screen door.

“Is Uncle Tommy okay?” When you look down you’re met with a worried look plastered on your son's face. You instinctively cup his face with your hand, using your thumb to smooth out the wrinkle between his brows. He looks too much like his father when he does that. 

“He’s okay, love. He’s just gotta go get your Aunt and Ruth.” You lean down, kissing his forehead before turning to set him down next to you. 

“Okay, Mama.” He seems satisfied with your response as he gives your leg a little pat before running off towards the edge of the yard. You’ve got a patch of rocks and gravel the kids like to dig through. You turn to watch him, with your back now leaning against the picnic table as he crouches down, examining the ground before finding a suitable stone. Clutching it in his hand he rushes back to you, holding it up for your approval.

“Very pretty, thank you.” You take it from him with a smile, setting it behind you on the table with the rest of them. He repeats the process several times, staring down at the ground, scrutinizing each rock before bringing the ones he deems good enough over to you. You give appropriate oo’s and ah’s to each one, grateful for the brief peace your son is able to give you. He carries on with this for sometime, until you have a sizable pile of rocks beside you. 

He leaves, and he returns, dozens of times until he decides not to return to the patch of gravel. 

You thank him for the speckled stone he hands you now but instead of running back across the yard he squints, staring up at your expression. 

“What’s wrong?” He hops up onto the bench next to you, grabbing the sleeve of your shirt and bunching it up in his little fist as you give him a soft smile.

“Nothing’s wrong, hon.” You ruffle his hair a bit but he doesn’t seem convinced. 

“Why’d you make a mad face then? Uncle Tommy too.” 

So much for the kids being clueless, they’ve always been too smart for their own good. 

Shit.

You sigh, looking up at the clouds briefly before looking back down at him.

No sense in lying to him. “You know how Uncle Tommy has a brother?” You wrap an arm around him, pulling him close.

His face scrunches up a bit as he thinks. “Yeah…” He doesn’t sound entirely convinced as you give him a reassuring smile. 

“Well, we don’t really- we don’t always get along with Uncle Tommy’s brother, and he’s gonna be visiting us soon.” 

“Why?” 

“He’s in Jackson for a little bit, and he came a long way to get here-”

“No Mama, why don’t you like him?”

This is a conversation you had hoped to have with your children when they’re older. Preferably it would be one you wouldn’t have to have at all, but it’s just another unavoidable part of Joel. They’re already old enough to ask questions, it started when kids in their class began asking if Tommy was their dad. Which of course led to the twins asking you one night just before bed the same question. 

“No love, he’s your uncle, who told you that?” You don’t want that rumor going around, people already talk about it, it doesn’t help that they both bear a resemblance to him.

“No one, Annie asked us.” Your daughter answers as you brush some of her hair behind her ear.  You recognize the name, it’s a girl in their daycare class. 

“And what did you tell her?”

“That we just got a mom.” Ruth answers but Arthur picks up the second she’s finished speaking. 

“Do we have a dad?” He tilts his head to the side as you swallow loudly. 

“Yes, you do.”

“Where?” Ruth asks. 

Last you’d heard he was in Boston. 

“I’m not sure.” They turn and look at each other before turning in unison towards you, you should have known they wouldn’t take that answer. “We lived together for a little while, in New York, and then we got separated.” None of that means anything to either of them but it’s an answer, which is better than nothing.

Arthurs tiny hand squeezes yours, pulling you back into reality. You often wonder if they know when you’re lost in a memory, he looks up at you curiously. What did you do to deserve such a patient child? 

You take a moment to think of a way to phrase it. “We… got into a fight. A long time ago.”

“About what?”

“Grown up stuff.” Your heartbeat quickens, you don’t want him to know about all that, he’s too little, you need to end this conversation.

“What kin-“ When he starts another line of questioning you poke at his sides, sliding him off the bench in a fit of giggles. 

“Time to go inside, nosy little man.” You follow after him as he rushes away, brown hair that’s just starting to curl at the ends falling into his eyes as he runs away from the house.

You catch up to him within a few steps, scooping him up and cradling him like a baby. He lets out a high pitched shriek until you squish your face into his cheek, kissing the rosy skin until he quiets down to a few small giggles. 

“Your aunt needs some help in the kitchen, you’re gonna go play with her and your sister now.” He nods as he squirms in your arms until he’s more comfortable, wrapping his arms around your neck and resting his chin on your shoulder as you walk him back towards the house. 

He’s gonna need a nap soon, which means Ruth is gonna need a nap soon. Maybe you should try and get them both down before everything else happens. 

Right on cue, Tommy pushes open the door with Ruth on his hip, Maria not far behind him. Based on the smiles they’re both sporting you can assume they’ve made up. They always do. 

“I think it might be time for these two to head inside.” Tommy gives you a soft smile and for a single second you get to pretend that everything’s fine. Maria takes a lighter towards the grill, trying to light it as you go to stand next to Tommy, the twins both grinning at each other. 

In your own little bubble, everything is completely fine, and you’re with your family. 

And at the end of your single perfect second the bubble is popped. It all happens before you’re ready, although you doubt you could ever really be ready for this. 

Maria pockets her lighter, mumbling something about going inside to look for matches after a few unsuccessful attempts. You set Arthur down, nudging him in her direction, he quickly runs towards her, taking her hand as she begins to make her way back towards the house. Tommy wraps his free hand around your shoulder. Giving you a reassuring squeeze as you rest your head against him to stare at your little girl. 

“We’ve got this.” He gives you another squeeze but you’re struggling to find safety in it. He’s always been the strong one, the confrontational one. He’s got this. You don’t. You tilt your head to stare at him when Ruth’s gaze goes from your face to his but your head snaps to the side when you hear your name called. 

Everyone looks up. The twins, Maria, Tommy, and you, as Ellie walks around the side of the house and waves at you. The sound of your name makes the man walking behind her look as well, his all too familiar scowl scanning the yard, softening into a look of disbelief when his eyes settle on you.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“I don’t like havin’ you out there on your own. I worry too much.” He mumbles the words against the back of your neck as he tightens his hold around your waist. At some point the two of you had stopped pretending you’d wake up any other way and just went to bed like this. “Stay here, angel.” 

You’re so comfortable you almost consider it, but you ran out of cards last week and you’re cleared for work as of today. “I have to go if I want to sign up for any of the well paying shifts, Joel.” You peel his arms off of you, sitting up as he matches your movements. 

“Don’t sign up for that shit, it’s always somethin’ stupid or dangerous.” His voice is low and thick with sleep as he wraps his arms back around you. “If you need somethin’ I’ll get it for you.” He hasn’t shaved in a few weeks, his coarse facial hair rubs against your shoulder as he murmurs. 

Who knew big, scary Joel Miller could be so clingy. 

The most surprising part of your relationship, if you could even call it that, with Joel is just how needy he is. You don’t have any problems with it, it’s just a bit of a shock. Although maybe needy isn’t the right word. 

Protective. 

You’ve left the apartment two times in total since moving in with Joel, both times you insisted on needing air much to his dismay. He accompanied you around the block without a word the first time. The second time was the same, the only difference was that you stopped to buy a small bag of buttons, Joel had frowned as you made small talk with the older man sitting behind the table before rushing you home. 

“You could have just told me you needed buttons.” He grumbles as he holds the door open for you as you make your way to the kitchen table, taking a seat as you take his flannel off of you, the sight of your tattered sports bra serves as a reminder of how badly you need to get back to work once you’re cleared. 

“I don’t need buttons, you do. Every shirt you own is missing at least one.” You laid the shirt down on the table, pointing to the drawer next to the sink. “Get me the sewing kit.” His frown deepens but he does as you say before sitting down across from you.

Reaching across the table he sets the box down beside you, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Still, you should have just asked me.” 

You open the small tin, unspooling a bit of thread. “I needed to go outside for a few minutes, it’s stuffy in here.” 

“We could have opened a window.” He grumbles under his breath as you grin, holding the thread between your teeth while sliding the other end through the needle.

“It’s not the same and you know it.” You mumble through your teeth before releasing the thread and setting the needle down. You pour the buttons out onto the table, searching for one that best matches the beige of the buttons on the flannel. Eventually his hand encompasses your own as he guides you to one that’s a slightly different shape but matches the color perfectly. “Thank you.” You give him a teasing smile as you place it over the frayed threads where its predecessor once was. 

That was a week ago and you haven’t been outside since but when Joel went to get the mail from downstairs he brought you a notice from the doctor that you were cleared to return to work today. Despite his protests you start to push the blanket off of you but he’s quick to pull it right back up into place.

“Stay, please.” He continues to hum against your skin. 

“I need the money, Joel.” You turn to look at him, his usual morning sulky look seems doubled today.

“How much do you need?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he lets his face fall forward, his forehead resting on yours. 

“It’s not like that.” You swear, if you asked him to, he'd find a way to give you the moon and stars, but you hate relying on him for everything, especially after such a long time of being dependent on him. “I just need to work.”

“You don’t need to. You want to.” His breath still smells like whiskey from last night as he gives you an exasperated glare. 

“Fine, I want to work. My leg’s fine now, you can barely tell anything was wrong with it. I’ll be okay.” You lean just a bit more towards him, kissing his cheek before sliding out of bed. 

You aren’t exactly dating Joel. 

Dating seems so trivial during an apocalypse, and you haven’t had any conversations about it. It just sort of happened. You woke up one day and neither one of you wanted to pull away from the other, and it progressed from there. He came home from a job one night and climbed into bed next to you, wrapping himself around you and he kissed your forehead before falling asleep. You still don’t know if he knew you were awake. The next night you’d taken his face in your hands and kissed him, just to see what he’d do, thankfully after a moment of shock he’d kissed you back. And it just became another unspoken part of your life with Joel. He kissed you goodbye when he left to go do the things he refused to tell you about in any detail, and you always greeted him with a kiss when he returned. 

But you don’t have sex. 

You want to ask him why but you hold your tongue, it’s possible you’re just being impatient or maybe he just wants to wait. So you don’t push it or bring it up because you like how things are with him. 

The word boyfriend is not a word that suits Joel. 

He isn’t your boyfriend, he’s just sort of, yours. 

“Angel, please.” He continues his griping as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Joel, please.” You repeat back at him, trying to mimic his low tone.  

“I’m bein’ serious. Things have gotten bad out there recently, too much FEDRA bullshit.” 

“It’s always been bad and I’ve always managed, I’ll be fine.” You pull one of his shirts out of the closet, slipping it on, starting to button it as he makes his way to the end of the bed. 

“Can we at least talk about this?” He rests his elbows on his knees as he hunches over. The morning haze on his face is gone and is replaced by the stern scowl you’re used to. 

“There isn’t anything to talk about. I’ll be careful, there’s nothing to worry about, I’ll see you tonight.” After digging through the dresser drawers you eventually find your only pair of jeans. Once your boots are laced you walk back over to him, standing between his legs and taking his face in your hands. 

Staring down into his surprisingly gentle eyes, so dark that in the dim morning light they look pitch black. 

God he’s pretty. 

Even with that stupid pout of his. 

“I’ll see you tonight.” You lean down, placing a kiss on his forehead before pulling away only to be stopped when his grip on your waist tightens. 

“Just- wait.” You’re about to push him away with a laugh but his voice cracks just enough to make your smile drop. 

You start to speak in a soft tone but you only get one word out. “Joel…” 

“Please- I just- I can’t let you go out there and sign up for that shit. There’s jobs that aren’t dangerous, simple stuff.”

“Those jobs pay a few cards at best, hon. I can’t wear your clothes forever, I need new underwear, socks, all sorts of things. And I want to contribute around here, I’ll be okay, I promise.” You push the mess of hair falling across his forehead back as you stare down at him. 

He looks so genuinely upset already and you haven’t even left yet, he’s making this far more difficult than you thought it’d be. “I won’t be able to do anything if I don’t know you’re safe. It’s dangerous for both of us, I can’t be distracted like that.” You sigh, long and loud as you drop your hands to your sides. 

The more you think about it the more it makes sense. He really does worry too much, and even if you don’t know exactly what he does for work, you know it’s dangerous. 

Maybe it won’t be so bad. 

“Okay.” You groan. 

“You’ll stay?” The corners of his mouth start to raise a bit. 

“I’ll do the safer jobs.” The hint of a smile that had been on his face dissipates. “It’s a compromise. You can’t always get everything you want.” 

“Fine, come right home after.”

“I will.” With one more kiss he finally lets you go. 

So, at Joel’s request, you sign up for the easy jobs. 

They’re boring, and generally sort of terrible, and they pay the least, but Joel doesn’t make any further arguments about it. So you keep signing up for them. Typically it’s childcare, or filing documents for FEDRA, or working in the entry level food processing jobs. 

Boring, boring, jobs that involve standing around and doing nothing or wrangling kids who don’t deserve to grow up in a place like this. You hate the look on their little faces, they always look too grown up for their ages. 

But you put up with it, because at the end of the day you get to go home to Joel, Joel who seems to be in significantly higher spirits ever since you’ve agreed to those specific jobs. So you make it work. He makes it worth the banality of it all, at the end of your first week back to work he surprised you with a large paper bag, grinning like you’d never seen him before. When you unfolded the crumpled bag you were greeted with a mess of fabric, different colors and textures. You poured the contents onto the bed and immediately realized what he’d gotten you. Bras, panties, socks, and two pairs of jeans. It must’ve cost him a fortune and your eyes began to water immediately. You had wrapped your arms around him, barely letting go of him for the rest of the night. 

After that it got even easier, eventually you got used to it. 

You learned to live with the terrible jobs, and if you wanted anything you couldn’t afford with your meager savings Joel always managed to get it for you, even if you hadn’t told him you’d wanted it in the first place. 

You probably would have stayed like that forever if you hadn’t started taking the long way home. Weeks had passed before it happened, you had grown comfortable, vulnerable. Joel always made sure you felt safe and you let your guard down just long enough for something to happen. 

Joel had left early that morning, telling you that he was gonna be late, before he kissed you, he was out the door before the sun came up. 

Whenever Joel told you he would be late you took the long way home. Winding back alleys that were mostly empty that always led back to the apartment building. It was just a treat for yourself, something to do to fill time that would be spent at home, waiting for him. 

You never had any issues or alterations. 

Until that afternoon. 

Joel will be late. 

So the second your shift is over you take the handful of cards and make your way through the city. And just like you’ve done every other time, you look behind you every once and a while but not nearly as much as you should. Because of this, you don’t see him until it’s too late. 

It’s a younger man, probably a year or two older than you at most peering around the last corner you turned. Once he knows he’s been seen his pace quickens and instinctively you do the same. 

“On the ground!” The second you hear it you pray it’s for someone else, it has to be, you’ve done nothing wrong. You walk faster, hoping to avoid what could be a messy confrontation when the sound of boots slamming on the pavement rushes towards you and you’re forced up against the wall of the alley. 

In your peripheral you catch the white text against the black of his uniform. 

FEDRA. 

Your knees are kicked from under you as he pins your arms behind your back, the force at which your head hits the stone has you dizzy as you try to catch your breath. Too much is happening too quickly, when you finally feel like you can use your voice the wind is knocked out of you as you feel him hit you in the side, hard enough to have you wondering if he broke a rib. The force of the hit makes your knees crumble completely as the officer lets you fall, only giving you enough time to get to your hands and knees before his boot slams into your stomach knocking you onto your side. 

Finally, when you roll over onto your back you get a clear look at him. He looks like your average FEDRA officer, the only thing out of place is the unsure look on his face. Your ears are ringing so you barely make out what he says, all you catch is something about thinking you were someone else, before he turns and leaves as if it never happened.

Leaving you alone to clutch your stomach and wonder what just happened, and what you did to deserve that. 

You’d never heard of random attacks from FEDRA before. Maybe in other zones, but the city has always been calm as far as that goes. Maybe things really did get worse while your leg was healing. 

Joel was right. 

That’s all you can think about as you stumble to get to your feet, everything hurts but now is not the time to assess your wounds, you need to get home before something else happens. You manage to hobble up the stairs of the building, nearly collapsing by the time you opened the door. 

You feel so stupid. 

Joel was right. 

It isn’t safe out there, at least not for you. No one fucks with Joel, no one attacks him on the street because they’re afraid of him. No ones afraid of you. 

It’s a long couple of hours after that. 

Mostly a lot of berating yourself as you try to take in the extent of the damage. 

Surprisingly it seems to mostly be surface level. Sure, you’re going to bruise pretty bad and your face got scraped up on the stones but nothing permanent seems to have been inflicted. 

Once you’ve showered and slipped into an old shirt of his and a pair of panties you climb into bed, wanting this day to just be over, but you know it isn’t. Right on schedule you hear the lock click as Joel steps through the front door, you hide your face in your pillow. 

“What are you still doin’ up? It’s almost midnight.” His voice is a low whisper as you hear the familiar sounds of him kicking off his boots and setting down his things. You hear the outer layer of his clothing hit the floor, you told him a while ago you thought it was gross that he slept in the clothes he wore all day. He started sleeping in his undershirt and boxers after that. “You okay, Darlin’?” The bed shifts as he sits beside you and the second you turn and look at him his jaw twitches. “Christ… what the hell happened? Who did this to you?” He’s managing to stay mostly calm but you’re already worried he’s going to blow. 

“It’s nothing, I just had an issue with an officer on my way-“

“This is not nothing.” He’s already fussing with your face as you take his hands and move them away from you. 

“Joel-“

“Tell me what happened.” It’s a command and you’re too tired to fabricate something, and for the first time in a while, you’re afraid. 

So you tell him exactly how it happened. And before you realize it’s happening you’re sniffling, a part of you feels like you’re about to be scolded for this but he only nods, never interrupting you until you’ve finished. 

Your vision’s blurry with tears when you look up at him, the weight of being attacked starts to weigh heavy as you realize just how lucky you were that that was all that happened. And then you say the words he’s been waiting to hear.

“You were right, Joel.” 

“I’m sorry, angel. I should have been there to protect you.” He holds his arms open and you don’t hesitate as you lean forward into him. You do your best to hold it together as he lays you down before clicking off the lamp and pulling you back against him. He softly scratches your back, kissing the top of your head as he does. It’s silent for a few more minutes until he suddenly whispers into the darkness. “Tell me you’ll stay here from now on.”

“Joel, I-“

“No more going out there without me. You’ll stay safe right here, no one can hurt you here, not while I’m around.” You open your mouth to argue again but stop yourself. 

He’s right. 

Now that you’ve calmed down you know that you’re lucky to even be alive. You don’t know why you were attacked but you know it could happen again, and there are worse things than being beaten. 

No one would hurt you here, not with Joel around. 

“Stay here, angel.” He murmurs, softer this time. 

Joel is right.

“Okay.”

He isn’t beside you when you wake up, your hands searching through the cold sheets seeking his warmth. He had mentioned something as you were falling asleep about an early morning supply run but you had hoped to say goodbye before he left, you wanted to make him breakfast. As you get ready to roll back over and sleep a bit more you’re startled into an upright position. 

“You should watch where you’re flying, angel.” You bite back a shriek as Tess’s voice comes from the direction of the kitchen. 

“Christ, you scared the hell out of me!” Your heart skips a beat as you reach over to the nightstand, pulling on the little chain that turns the lamp on. “Joel’s not even here, what are you doing?” You don’t like the idea of being alone with her, she doesn’t come around much anymore, you used to see her in the hall on her way here constantly, but after you moved in she stopped. 

You do your best not to flinch as she makes her way over to you, standing at the foot of the bed.

“I’m not here to hurt you, there’s no need for theatrics.” You hadn’t realized you were shaking so badly until she said it, it takes a conscious effort but you manage to stop it for the most part. “I’m just here to talk.”

“About what?” 

“About you and Joel.”

You don’t want to talk about that with Tess. You don’t want to talk to Tess at all, she frightens you and she knows it. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.” This time when you flinch she hesitates. For a brief moment the facade of a woman who fears nothing drops, and you swear you see sympathy in her eyes. “Joel is dangerous, you need to be careful with him or you’re going to get hurt.”

Is that why she’s here? To try and break you up? 

“He won’t hurt me, he cares about me.” You wish you sounded more sure of yourself. 

“You’re right, at least for now.” She flips her pocket knife open, ever so carefully running the blade along the underside of her nails, scraping away any dirt or grime she so happens to find, you fight the urge to flinch again. When she finally looks back up at you she takes a moment, examining your expression as if this was an interrogation. “Being loved by him is the worst thing that could possibly happen to a girl like you.”

You can’t help but scoff, now look who’s being theatrical. “A girl like me?”

“Good, too good. And fragile.” She points at you with the blade before returning to her nails. “He’ll do anything to keep you safe, even if it means breaking you into tiny little pieces, just so you’ll fit in a box he can lock.” 

You’re about to call her a liar but you hesitate. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You deserve to know.”

“Okay, but why? You don’t even like me.”

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like you.” 

Fair enough.

“I think you should go.” You don’t want to hear anything else. You don’t believe anything she’s saying and the entire conversation makes you feel sick. She doesn’t know anything about your relationship with him, and she clearly doesn’t know anything about Joel. He’d do anything for you, you don’t think you’ve ever been taken care of before you met him.  

“What do you know about glue traps?” She doesn’t make any effort to leave so you decide to just answer her with a sigh. 

“Like the ones you use to catch mice? I don’t know, Joel buys them sometimes.”

She points her knife in the direction of the corner of the room, it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. Sure enough, in the corner of the room, peeking out from under his dresser, is the faint outline of something on the floor, you’d never noticed it before. 

“It’s the worst kind of way to catch a mouse.” She stands, walking across the room and peeling up the trap with the edge of her blade before snapping it shut and taking the edge of the trap between her fingers, dragging it across the floor to the middle of the room so you had a clear view of it. “They’ll do anything to get out.” The tip of her boot nudges the corner of the trap, now that it’s been dragged into the lamp light you can see exactly what she wanted to show you. Two things are in the bloody trap. A mouse, barely alive, based on the way its chest rises and falls, and something else. A caterpillar maybe? 

No. 

A leg. A bloody mouse leg, on the edge of the trap. 

“They’ll chew off their limbs, and peel off their own skin just to get out, the ones that manage to are lucky enough to bleed out somewhere else. The ones stuck in the trap though?” She nods down at the creature you now refuse to look at. “They’ve got it the worst. Suffocation, dehydration, the ones who try to peel off and can’t, bleed out, stuck in place.”   

With a sudden crunch, her boot slams down on the trap. You watch, slack jawed, as she peels it off the sole before tossing it in the bin in the corner. 

“I’d take a quick death over either of those.”

“I think you should leave. Now.” You try to sound authoritative but your voice trembles too much to sound anything but afraid. 

“I heard you got caught up in some FEDRA business yesterday.” She starts again but you’ve had enough.

“Tess.” You manage to have a bit of sterness this time in your tone but it doesn’t seem to affect her much. 

“Fine. I’ll leave. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You catch that sympathetic look one more time before she unlocks the door chain, twisting the doorknob before speaking one last time. “I noticed some of our inventory is missing, this is the only warning you’re gonna get about that. If you want shit like that just ask, I’m sure Joel would be more than happy to have another way to control you.” She doesn’t turn around when she says it, simply slamming the door and leaving. You have no clue what she’s talking about, but that isn’t the part of the conversation that sticks with you. All you can think about is that crunching sound. 

So you avoided her after that, writing off her words as an act of jealousy. 

Joel would never do anything to hurt you.

Of course you know better now. She was just like you, she had been in the glue trap herself when she tried to keep you from joining her, but you hadn’t listened, instead you’d fallen face first into Joel. And he wouldn't let you go without keeping some of you for himself.

i don't have a taglist anymore !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates on all fics !!

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Honesty

I am back! Mostly because I got time and I feel like it.

Am I going through the ideas I have for prompts/drabbles quickly? Yes. Very. The idea pile is getting low but I don't feel like pacing them out. What is the fun in that?

Anyway. Lets continue where we left off... shall we? @spotaus as promised your daily tag!

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

We going! And we are still with Cross <3

*--------------------*

Cross watches from their nest as Dust just remains rolled up around Nightmare. Still not moving or talking at all. Nightmare himself doesn't seem bothered as he clearly is unwilling to let go of Dust either.

Cross remains where he is now. Watching over the two as Killer finishes up with the police people and Horror stalks around their area. Making sure it is still clean.

Cross feels the exhaustion creep back up but he refuses to rest. He isn't going to rest! Not as long as his mates and their child-

Cross feels himself blush as he shakes his skull. Trying to ban the thought. Focus! No need for useless and wishful daydreaming. It is especially not the time to think about those things now!

Horror enters the house before Killer and joins them. He looks at him and Cross makes sure to smile back. Horror is already stressed himself. No need to add to it. Cross has no doubt that Horror is also exhausted after all that happened.

Horror gives his nice and handsome half smile before sitting with Dust, he doesn't touch right away "Bunny??"

Dust doesn't speak but Cross can see him turn his skull a tiny bit.

Horror must have seen it too "Can I see Nightmare?" Horror's hand is slightly shaking. clearly worried.

Dust remains still but nods as he forces himself to turn. Moving so slow and careful.

Cross had once asked Dust what it felt like. To have so much power and magic. Dust had shrugged and said that it sometimes made it hard to control how he moved or how he used his magic.

Cross wonders if the slow movements and slow turns is now Dust's magic being overactive to try and protect Nightmare... or it are his parental instincts... Maybe even both? Cross still can't get over that Dust just controls it. Now with the lightning too! It is so powerful and wild and Dust just sits down and breaths through it... Cross is still unsure how anyone in the multiverse could messure up to that! Cross still remembers how it had felt to really see Dust use his magic and powers for the first time. all that time ago... Cross knows form that moment that this was going to cause issues for him as he still remembers it and could not stop thinking about it. And now he just got more powerful?! With the same calm control even if it no doubt only got harder to control? Cross is in trouble... such deep trouble.

Cross focusses on Horror and that may have been a mistake on its own. Horror smiles so painfully soft at Dust and Nightmare nad Cross feels his soul do that little flip again. Horror's devotion and care is so obvious. It is open and honest and Cross always feels unsure if it is aimed at him. Worried he will do something that makes it so painfully obvious of what he wants. Cross doesn't want that. He can't deal with them not wanting him like he wants them. Them not loving him like he does them.

He is content like this. Seeing them together and happy and safe.

Horror has managed to get Dust to uncurl again and accept being moved back into his arms. Horror seems to be gently checking Nightmar enad his magic.

He huffs unhappily "His magic is unsettled."

Cross feels deep fear as he leans closer. "What does that mean?" Was he too slow after all?! He should have been faster and just broken him out and-

Horror looks at him and reaches for him. a moment later his hand is on his shoulder and Cross can't help but lean into the touch a bit. His shoudlers relax a little bit as Horror rubs and massages the shoulder slightly.

Hroror speaks calmly "Calm down. I think... probably trauma and fear response. Just means his magic and mana is all concentrated around his soul. a protection kinda... Just means his magic needs to settle first before he can eat again." again Horror looks deeply unhappy.

Cross feels intense relieve before feeling like scum. Horror is terrified of food shortage and someone going hungry... This must be terrible to Horror to know Nightmare can't have any food for a while.

Cross searches for the right words "euh... how long... does it usually take... and can't we give him small things? maybe just something to drink? A smoothie could maybe work?"

Horror sighs as he gently rubs Nightmare's side and belly as Dust holds their tiny babybones close again. muttering soft reassurances again. Horror looks at him and thinks. Cross feels a bit bad for asking exact numbers. Horror said numbers often leave him confused after what happened.

Horror manages to push through though, he always does... it is one of those things that is amazing about him, and Horror answers his question "usual? Day... two max... and for the food it is a hard no. It can upset his magic and his magic will start expelling anything not the same. meaning he would just... lose more magic as he vomits it up." a sad but resigned look.

Cross frowns and nods "not even soup? that is liquid adn stuff..."

Horror shakes his skull "Still too heavy and sitll not like his own body and his own magic."

Cross frowns and tries to give him a reassuring smile "Well... We will just need to keep some fruits and yogurt ready. For when his magic settles a bit." Horror usually gives Nightmare that when Nightmare's magic can't absorb a lot of food.

Horror considers it before nodding his own agreement.

Cross takes a moment to lean back and relax. just a moment. Just because he can enjoy the sight of Horror having Dust in his lap and Nightmare comfortable and safe in their combined arms. It is nice. Cross loves seeing these moments. Being part of them is just as amazing!

The door opens and Cross turns quickly and waits. the sound of a lock turning and moments later Killer walks into the room. looking slightly done but he gives them a thumbs up "We should be good. Gave them the rundown and talked them into the right direction."

Horror nods as he gives his own small rundown on Nightmare's health.

Dust sighs and mutters "Talking about health... He needs a bath..." Nightmare nods but doesn't pull away from the hug.

Cross smiles and nods "Good idea! YOu can take Nightmare and get him comfortable and I will guard you guys as Killer and Horror get ready for bed too!" then after all of them are comfortable Cross will quickly get ready for bed and join them and just get to enjoy feeling them all near.

Killer steps in "Actually. Horror you mind helping Dust with Nighty?" Horror already shakes his shoulder as he gets up. Taking both Dust and Nightmare towards the bathroom.

Cross frowns and turns to Killer.

Oh. He is mad.

Furious even.

Killer glares but still has that smile on his face "We need to talk." and he grabs his hand and pulls him along. Cross doesnt'fight it as they end up in their green house.

It is gorgeous in here. Especially at night as the moon light shines in through the glass panes and reflects of everything in here. These plants are already full grown and some are starting to bare fruit again. All the plants in here are magical in nature to help them get food that they actually need in their diet.

Killer glares at him full force and Cross can't help but think he fits in perfectly. He is just as pretty if not even more.

Damnit Cross. Skull in the game. Not the moment.

Killer glares at him and hisses "Waht were you thinking?"

Cross glares back "I was getting Nightmare out and to safety. Sorry I wasn't sneaky enough or caused issues with the police!"

Killer groans as he rubs his face "I don't give a flying fuck about the police Cross! You think I care? No! I will fly through my teeth and think of a solution. I can deal with that! YOu know what I can't deal with? You going to fight a threat on your own! Alone! One we don't know!"

Cross glares "There was no other option."

Killer glares back "There was! We could have moved as a team Cross!"

Cross throws up his arms "Not fast enough! And I was fine! THose assholes didn't even come close to hurting me!"

Killer groans and grabs him by the skull and pulls him down to glare at him fully "How can I get it through to you that you stop treating yourself as expandable?!"

Cross stops and mtuters "what?"

Killer glares at him "of course we were going to go after him as soon as we could! Of course we were going to cause trouble! Of course we were going to hurt those who did it and make sure they never did it again! We all would have! But you! You going out on your own and going to confront a threat on your own?! One we don't even know? Damnit Cross it could have been someone form the multiverse! Someone who COULD actually hurt us!" He glares at him "When are you finally going to believe we don't want you to get hurt either?!"

Cross can't think. It has been such a long day and he was so afraid of having done stuff wrong or be too slow or made a mistake... and the only thing he did wrong was... get himself in danger? to not take backup? Cross blinks "what..?" he is so tired and Killer is there.

Killer's anger seems to disappear as he just looks desperate "Why do you still think we don't want to help you? Why do you still think your hurt matters less than ours?"

Cross can't answer. because answering means... means... They are everything to him. They are the world and Cross just wants them to be happy... Is that so bad?

Killer frowns as he removes one of his hands from his skull and Cross wants it back. then the hand rubs under his sockets and oh... he is crying. damnit. Cross hates the fact he cries quickly.

Killer frowns and speaks softer "Hey... I get it... emotions ran high and all that stuff... I.... I am mad but just becuase you could have been hurt... you know?" Killer looks to the side.

Cross nods as he watching Killer. It is just still so rare for Cross to see Killer as anything but confident or smug... Killer looks almost awkward like this... it is cute.

Killer sighs but gives agrin "We are on the same page now? No needly sacrificing! Even no needed sacrificing!"

Cross mutters a yes. too afraid that moving will remove the hands holding his skull.

Killer grins widely "good! Then we can go to the others and I will remind you of this conversation if you start slipping again and-"

They are kissing.

Cross isn't even sure how this happened. But Cross is 99% sure it is his fault.

Cross opens his sockets and sees Killer just staring at him. Frozen. Cross pulls back right away "I shouldn't have done that..." shit. shit shit shit shit shit-

Killer's hands got a lot tighter and he pulls him close and.... they are kissing again.

How does this keep happening?!

Killer pulls away and grins "there! Now we both did it! problem solved!" he looks so nervous.

Cross blinks and can't help but mutter again "Really shouldn't have done that..." he is a fucking idiot and selfish and-

Killer's hold gets almost painfully tight "why not?" it isn't a shout. Not even normal volume. it sounds quiet and... sad... Killer then snorts and winks "Not interested after all?" Cross would have beleived him if he couldn't still see the very light grey eye lights in his normally dark sockets.

Cross shakes his skull then nods then groans "it isn't... it isn't that.. I lo-like! Like you a lot! And I like this! But. It is unfair because i don't just love you! I love Dust... I love horror. It is unfair to start something when... when part of me isn't in it! Isn't all here for it and... and... I am sorry... I really shouldn't have and... and..." and they are kissing again. fuck this keeps happening and Cross just wants more each time.

Killer pulls away with a grin "Well... first... that solves the issue as I also very much want to date both Horror and Dust. So i am sure we can figure something out!"

Cross blinks "You cna just do that? Date multiple people?"

killer stares at him for a moment "Right... I keep forgetting that you were stuck in a universe that was pretty much a cult."

Cross glares at Killer "Stop calling XTale a cult."

Killer raises a brow "Fine. Just because we got more important stuff to talk about... Yes you can dat emultiple people as long as everyone connected to this dating situation is okay with it. it means you are in a polyamory relationship." he grins "probably makes you poly too! That you want a relationship with multiple people and stuff."

Cross blinks and shrugs "i dunno about that... I found many people attractive but well... I only ever really wanted to be with you three..." he feels hismelf blush and looks tot he side.

Killer laughs adn gives him a soft and short kiss on the teeth before backing off. He gives him a grin and nods to the door "We should get back to the others..."

Cross rubs his arm as he glances at the door "Waht about... this?" us? Them? all of them? together? Cross hadn't known that was an option! This is like the perfect solution!

Killer laughs before grinning "We will have to see if they are interested... But first we need a moment to wind down... it has been one fucking hellish day and I jsut want to hug our baby and sleep."

Cross feels the exhaustion all over again and he sighs "I agree..."

They walk out of the greenhouse together and get dressed for bed quickly. Cross does sneak a few glances at Killer. No longer feeling bad for sneaking looks and admiring one of them now. Now that it is okay. At least wiht Killer.

They will have to dicuss with Horror and Dust what this means for them and what is even possible and what everyone is comfortable with.

But first? Time to sleep with their child and relax. They need it... and Cross thinks they deserved it too.

*--------------------*

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[spotsandsocks]

Fuck it Friday

Tagged by @wikiangela @giddyupbuck @daffi-990 @tizniz @diazsdimples with amazing snippets go check them out

Beautiful cover by @ronordmann this was my first fic for one of Ro’s challenges and I’m so glad I joined in with it, I’ve had so much fun since and made a lovely friend (no pressure tags under cut if anyone wants to share today)

Felt like a fantasy theme for today’s FIF (and a bit of self promo for an older fic) I was particularly pleased with my use of Oliver’s tattoos in this fic 😆😆 and now he has so many more…

Once upon a time, that’s how it starts isn’t it.

Once upon a time, it’s how his sister started all the stories she read to him when he was little; a prince, a princess, a wizard, challenges to overcome true love and a happily ever after.

Well he’s a prince and he’s been waiting for his happily ever after, he’s been waiting for it for a long time now. He thought he’d found it in brown eyes that turned gold and a warm smile that made him feel seen like no one else ever had, but that was lost. Turns out you don’t get a happily ever after when you’ve been cursed, not even if you're a prince.

Eddie was the seventh child of a seventh child and that means magic. He was born on a night with a new moon, when the sky was illuminated by the stars and the rainbow colours of raw magic. The magic glowed and wove a pattern into the inky blackness, high above the cottage where his mother laboured to bring him into the world.

He took his first breath and his parents felt the magic gather around him and settle into his skin, his eyes turned gold then settled back to brown.

He grew as children do and he was four when the second prince was born and he was eleven when the first prince died, leaving behind a sister, heir to the throne and a brother, the younger prince, the one with a curse in his blood.

Of course Eddie doesn’t know anything about that yet, he’s just a child, but he won’t be forever and one day he’ll learn what was done to his prince, the man who will become his friend, the man he’ll love and lose when even all his magic isn’t enough to break a curse.

But that’s not now, that’s later.

His parents always said they hadn’t known what would happen. They’d gone to the fair folk with a sick child to ask for help. Their son and heir was dying and they needed a cure. All they did, they said, was ask for help, but there is always a price to pay for help from the fae.

A bargain was struck for a healthy child and the price agreed was something of equal value.

The queen hadn’t known, that’s what she said, again and again, she hadn’t known that there was already a life growing inside her, their third child.

The fae knew; it smiled before vanishing, sharp teeth flashing, eyes lingering on the queen’s stomach. That was when she understood what the price would be and she knew too that there was no purpose in becoming attached to something you’d already lost.

Nine moons passed and payment was due.

The creature that arrived to collect the fee was clearly not of this world, Its hair, midnight blue trailed down its back, skin the colour of moss glowed softly from within. There was no mistaking what they were or what they had come for. It was very beautiful, mesmerising and bewitching but in much the same way that a fire is beautiful and with the same risk.

The King and Queen accepted the inevitable and stood aside but his sister and the older prince said no, they stood together and tried to keep him safe, tried to keep him theirs.

The princess picked him up and held him close, lips pressed to his brow. Her love for him was new but already so strong. His brother stood before them both, young but brave and determined to keep the ones he loved safe, unsure what he could do but willing to try.

Their actions provoked laugher, bright and brittle it rattled round the hall. The fae found itself amused by the futile gesture of the young ones before it and being capricious in nature it changed its mind on what it wanted and the ripples of that decision were sent into the world.

The children shivered as a melodious voice, laced with cruel, mocking humour rang out.

“Such courage, such love, such a thing should have a reward so you may have him a while longer but you will remember the promise, who he really belongs to. When the moon is new you will not forget that he is already ours.”

So the children were given time and although it was not the intention they were also given a chance at changing his fate.

“25 years I think.” it said, amused, it could wait, 25 years after all was only a moment to the fae for whom time moved so differently but it was enough to cause trouble in the human world.

The princess and the oldest prince exchanged a glance, they were just children but they knew their brother had been given both a gift and a curse.

The beautiful face smiled but no glimmer of kindness could be found in it. The parting words left them cold.

“You love him now, think how much harder it will be to say goodbye then.”

The princess closed her eyes to hide her tears.

The king said nothing throughout it all, remaining silent on his throne, unable to look any of his children in the eye. He had made a bargain and although the price was high, the heir was worth it.

That was until the accident;because when the younger prince was just seven years old he lost his beloved brother anyway.

A fall from a horse; no magic, no curse. Just bad luck.

So in the end the kingdom was destined to lose both its princes anyway.

Except there’s that one chance, a gift of time; time to find someone who could help.

@monsterrae1 @shortsighted-owl @the-likesofus @hoodie-buck @loserdiaz @buddierights @fiona-fififi @rogerzsteven @bekkachaos @thekristen999 @hippolotamus @spaceprincessem @disasterbuckdiaz @like-the-rest-of-la @disasterbuckdiaz @heartshapedvows @underwater-ninja-13 @wildlife4life @wikiangela @stagefoureddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @elvensorceress @jesuisici33 @eddiebabygirldiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @rainbow-nerdss @lover-of-mine

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Court, death, mentions of violence.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels! We are getting closer and closer to the end! Only 3 more chapters to go, I can't wait to finish this with you. I know I sound like a broken record, but jesus! I've had this bad boy ageing in my computer waiting to be posted haha. Anyone, Enjoy! <3

Chapter 107: And So The Tide Rushes to Shore 

The news of the seizing of Kings Landing by Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen spread across the realm like wild fire. There was no corner that had not heard the news, nor person that had not swallowed in apprehension.

But the promise of war was over.

There would be no war.

No torching of the realm and its innocents, no destruction of Keeps and homes and livestock. No call for men to join armies and fight for the throne in a bloody and violent death. Nor women and children who would be left alone without their fathers, or husbands.

However, now was a time where the fragility of her rule would hang upon a delicate thread, and although Rhaenyra had her supporters, there were still those who had supported Aegon’s rule, and then subsequently Aemond’s.

The Small Council of the Greens had been rounded into cells by guards and knights. Gold cloaks flooding the Keep at the order of Daemon, a man who they had kept their allegiance to for all his time spent away.

And as Rhaenyra had personally escorted you, alongside Daemon, towards your original chambers, the ones that you grew up in, and not the one that now housed the corpse of your late husband, you walked quietly, dagger still in your hand, Daemon’s fingers unable to pry it from you just yet.

The corridors were a mess of Lords and Ladies, maids and servants who rushed and fled, were captured, and otherwise scattering like ants as they were unsure of what to do, or what was to come. 

Above you, four large dragons, circled the Keep, crying out into the air. A vision of red, and green, and pale pearl flying about as they surveyed the Red Keep below. One outsized them all.

The bronze scales of Vermithor shimmered brightly in the sun.

A sob of relief fell from your lips as you watched him, looking up at a dragon you had been separated for months from, not being able to see him or know he was okay. There was agitation in his body as he flew, but otherwise he was safe.

He was safe.

And he knew you were too.

When you had gotten to your chambers, Amala and Joanna were already there, waiting, wringing their hands together in anticipation. And upon seeing you, Amala had gasped, and ran towards you, hands checking your face for wounds, no doubt shocked by the blood.

Daemon turned to the girls, “Fetch her some water for a bath.”

And with that, their fussing and stress stopped, and they sprung into action, running from the chambers. Both girls eyes dragging over your body and the crown atop your head as they exited.

It was weird to be back in them. 

The chambers that felt alien to you now.

You stood in the room you had once called your own and breathed, slowly walking over to your old table to place the dagger atop it, finally feeling safe. Finally feeling as though you didn't need the blade any longer. That the last piece of safety Aemond had given to you had served its purpose. And it was then that you breathed, truly breathed. Breathed for the first time since coming to the Red Keep.

It was over. 

It was over.

You stood as you were and watched the maids return, another younger girl in tow, blonde and thin, who bowed and introduced herself quietly to you, ‘Ceryse, Your Grace’, eyes widening at the blood on your skin and hair before she averted her eyes, face having turned ashen.

Daemon and Rhaenyra waited with you as they filled the bath, and as the chamber doors opened once again, you had expected one of the girls to be bringing more water to rinse you with, but instead, you were met with a pair of deep brown eyes. 

Jacaerys.

You sucked in a sob as he raced across the chambers, crashing his body into yours as he gripped you tightly. You almost fell backwards from the clashing of your bodies, arms curled under his and up his back, squeezing the leather riding tunic he wore to you tightly. 

He smelt of dragon, of musk, and the subtle sulfur of dragon flame. But most of all, he smelt of home.

You half sobbed and half laughed, overjoyed and grieving all at once in his arms. Hands shaking around him as he squeezed you tightly. His chest shaking as he sobbed himself, holding you outwards in his arms as his eyes roamed your body, looking you over.

He was taller, so much taller than he had been, and broader too. His hair was long against his shoulders and curled, pulled behind his ears by braids.

"You're here." He breathed, as though he was even unsure of it. As if seeing you had confirmed that his greatest fear had not come true.

You nodded, hand coming to touch his jaw gently. He grabbed the wrist that held his face tightly, emotion pouring through his eyes as he shook. And in a turn of familiarity that you only knew from Daemon, he rested his forehead against yours and breathed, eyes shut, brown lashes clumped together and wet as he fought the tears that escaped them.

"I'm here." You breathed, "I'm here."

The rest was a blur.

A blur of reunion, a blur of being bathed, the milky water below turning a soft pink, to an earthy copper as the blood was washed from your hair and face. The maids scrubbing your body with a sponge to pull the dried blood from your skin, Rhaenyra not once leaving your side.

One of the maids had to bring her a chair and tell her to sit down as she anxiously stood between you and the door, eyes darting back and forth, the fear of having you taken from her again ripe.

But nothing had happened. No knights entered to take away, no Greens supporters came to call, no Alicent, or Jasper, or anyone. Just you and your mother, who insisted on brushing and braiding your hair, and you had let her, tears cascading down your cheeks as she hummed to you.

A familiar tune.

Something the maids had sang to you a long time ago, but this time, it was the song of the Goddess Meleys, and you had cried even harder.

She had been there all along.

That evening you dined with your family, exhaustion burrowed deep within your bones.

And it was still all a blur, it felt like a dream still. Sat with Rhaenyra, Daemon, Jacaerys, Rhaenys and Baela around the table in the intimate dining hall. 

It was almost like it had been before.

Before the war. 

As though this was as it was supposed to be. 

Almost.

And whilst they celebrated the victory quietly and solemnly, toasting a cup towards you which you lifted your own in response, there was no denying the grief that lingered in the foreground. No denying the grief of the loss of Lucerys and your sister. Their palpable absence. The grief of the war and time lost, of your own child, of Aemond.

Tears escaped your eyes, and you were thankful to be with them, but for the most part, sitting with your family, it felt as though you were watching them all through somebody else’s eyes, as though you were watching from somewhere else, or that you were a puppet from Flea Bottom and somebody, high above in the clouds, was pulling your strings, stretching your cheeks into a smile, nodding your head in agreement, ears listening to tales and comments of relief without truly listening. 

It was not a loud and joyous celebration. In fact, it felt more like a funeral, like the one for Laena, like the one for Laenor.

There was no music, there was no dancing, but it was enough.

It was enough to just be with them, to just be in their presence, hear their voices, be able to reach out and touch them if you wanted to. The subtle scents of their own, curling around you in a soft blanket.

You had reached for your goblet at one point during the night, mouth having gone dry at the mention of Aegon, and you had to hold in a scream, eyes finding your hands covered in blood once more. Your eyes had widened in shock, a small inhale ripped into your lungs, and Daemons careful eye from across the room had spotted you.

And though the maids had washed and scrubbed you vigorously, cleaning under your nails with careful hands, even though you knew in your heart that you were clean, it didn't stop your mind from seeing them soaked red with your lovers blood. Covered as they had been that morning.

And he was there.

Watching.

By the corner of the room.

Eye never leaving you.

But you kept a brave face, if only for a while longer, not daring to look where you hands would reach, grasping blinding in front of you, resulting in wine spilt and worried eyes. You had blamed your tired and shaky hands. For how were you to explain that when you looked down upon them you saw the proof of your misdeeds. The proof of your sin. The proof of your betrayal.

Then all too soon, exhaustion creeped over you, and your mother, noticing the shift, escorted you back to your chambers, and readily tucked you into bed, sitting on the side as she looked at you with nothing but love. She brushed your hair from your face, and without a word, climbed into bed beside you. She pulled you to her tightly, and you curled up against her, nestling your head into the crook of her neck to breathe deeply.

And as your eyes were closed, you let yourself pretend that it was him.

Sleep dragged you under, and no dreams haunted you this time, though you felt his presence behind you. And when you woke, still in her arms, her hand was holding your head against her as she breathed, fingers absentmindedly carding through your hair in thought. You shifted, looking up into her lilac eyes which seemed to be shadowed, dark rings on the skin beneath.

She had not slept.

“Did you rest?” You asked, eyes darting across her face as you shifted to sit up in bed.

“I have not slept since the day you left. And now that I have you in my arms again, I am frightened that my eyes shall close, and when they open and you will be gone.”

You swallowed thickly, “I would never leave you.”

Rhaenyra gave you a small smile, though edges pulled down into a frown.

“If it is your wish, I would not keep you here in the Keep. If the memories are-“ She paused, unsure of how to move on, “If it is too much to bear, I would not hold you here. I would not force you to stay.” She whispered, brushing your hair from your face.

You frowned at her, “I am your Hand. I am bound by duty to be at your side.”

Rhaenyra let out the breath she had been holding before she nodded, “Duty be damned, I think you have performed yours and then some, more than I ever would have asked you to." She breathed deeply, "The rest of the council and my men shall arrive today. There will be a trial, to convict those who have plotted against me. Those who aided Aegon in the usurpation of the throne. And those who kept you here.”

You shifted in the sheets as you looked at your mother. 

Her soft brows pulled slightly together, the frown lines that seemed to now permanently mar her skin, were present with the movements of her lips, which she pressed together into a thin line, moving to open again.

But you beat her to it, “Then we must be ready.”

And so, you were dressed in a black leather bustier, with large winged shoulders, the neck of the leather coming just below your chin. It was a shorter gown, coming just mid calf, and beneath, you wore black trousers and leather boots that tucked them inside, just below the knee. Across your chest was chains, hooped and long against your bust, each end being the opened mouth of a dragon on either side.

The girls braided your hair back, gentle and soft in their movements, both working together as they used small pins with red jewels at their tip to hold your hair up and off of your neck. And all the while, your eyes did not leave the Conquerors Crown that was placed atop the table, smears of blood on the steel and ruby.

Rhaenyra had already left, to be dressed and readied for court in her old chambers, joined by her husband. But you were rooted on the spot, unable to move as you looked at it, watching as the light from the sun caused the ruby to glimmer.

A blood red.

Blood.

Like the blood that had covered you. Like the blood you had tried to stop at Aemond’s neck. The blood that spilled through your hands and his and soaked the sheets and pillows below. The blood that had soaked you.

You would not dare look at your hands, for you knew what you would see.

You blinked and moved towards it.

But it was your crown.

Yours by right.

And so you lifted it, placing it atop your head, revelling in the weight that it pressed down your neck. The weight that then settled in your chest and gut. 

With determined steps, you left the chambers, blade tucked into a holder at your side, dried blood still smeared across its blade and hilt as you walked swiftly down to the throne room to meet your Queen, and meet with the rest of the council and Lords of the realm.

All ready to see and watch the true heir to the Iron Throne be seated where she should have always sat, from the moment Viserys had passed, and for her to cast down her judgement on those who went against her. 

Traitors and turncloaks alike.

When you entered the throne room, it was bursting with life, and the floor where Larys had laid was stained with his dried blood, a large smear across the stones from where his body had been dragged and removed.

All eyes were on you, each step echoing in the chambers as the people quietened, and your mother lifted her head.

Your father stood at the foot of the throne, Jacaerys beside him, as you came to stand before her.

Ser Erryk Cargyll announced you to the chambers, presenting your titles to the room, “Hand of the Queen.”

With a bow of your head, foot sliding beneath you, you pressed your knee upon the floor and reached a hand up, grasping the crown from your head as you held it towards her, “Your Grace, I give my crown lands and titles to you, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the true heir to the Iron Throne.” When you stood again, you looked up at your mother who smiled gently at you.

“Princess Y/n, my daughter and first born, you have earnt that crown valiantly, through months of tireless work.” Her voice rose in the chambers, all still as they listened, “You may hold it in your possession, as a reminder of your deeds.” You could feel the eyes of all in the chambers flickering on the back of your head and then to the Queen who sat atop the throne.

“Your acts of bravery have not gone unnoticed, nor has your role in winning this war, and returning the throne and all the realms to me rightfully.” Jacaerys shifted at your fathers side, a small smile pulling at the side of his lips, “And at this time, the succession for the Iron Throne has changed.”

What?

Your breath stopped in your chest, eyes darting to Jacaerys who gave you the slightest tip of his head.

“Let all who stand here bear witness to the naming of my true successor. A successor who had been promised the throne once before.” Her eyes met yours, “Let it be known, that in the eyes of the Realm and before the Old Gods and the New, that my daughter, Princess Y/n Velaryon, is my heir and successor to the Iron Throne. Duty of the Hand of the Queen shall be placed upon Ser Corlys Velaryon.”

Heir.

Successor.

You blinked.

You were her heir.

You were the heir to the Iron Throne.

"But now," the Queen continued, "Is not the time for talks of succession and my rule. Now is the time to bring forth traitors and turncloak's who broke their oath to my father, King Viserys, and to me, the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms."

The sound of men around you shifted as they bowed their head towards you, your face in pure shock as you looked at them.

“Now,” The Queen boomed over the rising whispers in the chambers, “Bring forth the accused.”

You stepped on unsteady feet, unsure and uncertain as you came to stand beneath the throne on the opposite side of your brother and father, both who beamed at you with pride. The Conquerors Crown still in your hands, the cool Valyrian steel pressing into your palm.

But as the doors to the chambers were opened once more by guards, you had snuck a glance at your father, who was already watching you, and gave you a promissory nod. And so with certain hands, you lifted the crown once more, and settled it against your scalp.

Wild auburn hair appeared first, and then a gown of deep green as Alicent Hightower was dragged before the Iron Throne by Gold Cloaks. Each one stood behind her as her hands were locked in chains at her front, eyes flickering from you, to Rhaenyra, and then back to you.

And then you began.

“Lady Alicent Hightower. Dowager Queen of King Viserys. You stand before Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Roynar, and The First men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. You are bought here to be charged with crimes against the Crown. You are accused of treason.” Your voice carried through the chambers, the chains on Alicent’s wrists knocking against each other as she picked at her hands, fingers raw and bloody.

“You are charged with conspiring against the Crown to usurp the throne with Prince Aegon Targaryen and Ser Otto Hightower. You are charged with the conspiracy to cause harm to a Princess of the realm, and her wrongful imprisonment.”

“Rhaenyra, see reason. I beg you. Your father-“ Alicent began to plead.

“-My father,” Rhaenyra’s voice boomed, “Is dead. And you kept that hidden from the people for days, and rushed to crown Aegon as King in the Sept before the realm. You usurped the throne from its rightful heir and King Viserys’ successor, whom your House swore fealty to. Do you deny your charges?”

“I beg mercy! I only did as I believed was right. Viserys told me before he passed that he wished Aegon to sit the thr-”

“-You will have chance to make your own petition, Lady Alicent. Do Queen Rhaenyra the curtesy of letting the charges to be heard.” You held your head high, mimicking the same words she had said to your mother, a long time ago, “If the Lady Alicent Hightower speaks out of turn once more, cut out her tongue.” You watched as her face ashened, and her brows pulled together in desperation.

“You supplanted the Iron Throne’s rightful heir.” Rhaenyra growled, “You sent Aemond to slay my son, Prince Lucerys, the heir to Driftmark, who was an envoy in Storms End. And you have kept the Princess, my heir to the Iron Throne prisoner in this Keep under the hands of your rabid sons.”

“Please, Rhaenyra.” Alicent begged, “Am I to pay for the crimes of the wants of a father on his daughter? For the crimes of my sons? We were close, you and I. Friends!”

Daemon snickered beside the throne as he watched the Hightower woman beg.

Rhaenyra straightened, “What good is a friend who plots and grooms her sons into usurping the throne from its rightful heir? Their half-sister? From her supposed friend? These crimes are treason. And there are witnesses. A Maester who was slain here. Maids who had watched. Gold Cloaks, and servants, and Lords alike witnessed your crimes, Lady Alicent. Do you deny these charges?”

A tear fell from Alicent’s eyes as she sucked in a shuttering breath.

She stayed silent.

Rhaenyra looked at the woman from down her nose before speaking once more, delivering her conviction.

“For your crimes against the Crown, against my blood, and against the people of the realm, you are found guilty. I, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Roynar, and The First men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, sentence you to death by dragon fire.”

Alicent’s face morphed into horror, “No! Rhaenyra, please! I beg mercy! We are but women who had our hands forced by the men around us!” She cried into the chambers as she was dragged out by the Gold Cloaks, “What choice did I have?! Imprison me, Rhaenyra, I beg this of you!”

Alicent Hightower’s voice faded down the halls and walls she was dragged down, pleading for mercy, begging to the Seven for help. But the Seven did not hear to her prayers, for the Stranger was already on their way to take her.

Maester Orwyle was next, and the man stood silently as his charges were given to him. He did not speak, nor did he rebuke them, or plead for mercy. Instead, his dark brown eyes stared into your mothers with nothing more than disgust and pure hatred, until he was pulled away, the same way he came, back to the holding cells of the Dungeons you had once spent your days in, with his verdict. 

Guilty.

It was this way until the whole of the Green Council and turncloaks was laid before your mother, each one individually brought before the Queen, had their accusations of treason laid. Some were given the option to bend the knee to Rhaenyra and serve her in exchange for their lives, others were not. 

None, bar Lord Jasper Wylde, bent the knee.

And all, bar the Master of Laws, was sentenced to death.

The chamber of the Iron Throne was ripe with energy. Nervous, excited energy from Rhaenyra’s supporters as they watched on as they delivered the sentences to those who had betrayed or turned cloak against her. 

And then, the court was dismissed, and the Lords and her supporters were led outside of the Keep, to the mouth of Blackwater Rush, where a flat grassy knoll lay before the cliffs, and a worn path for traders was trodden upon. 

It was there where Lady Alicent Hightower was led, beside her Maester Orwyle, Ser Tyland Lannister, and the turncloaks, Lord Bourney, Butterwell, Mootey and Rosby stood in a line. 

The oceans breeze ruffled the cloaks and hair of all those in attendance, and Rhaenyra was the last one present. The final person to arrive. 

Above you, the large and excitable screech of a dragon who would finally be reunited with its rider. 

Alicent looked up the skies in fear, her hands clutched tightly together in prayer as she shut her eyes, mumbling to the Seven, begging for mercy, and guidance, and promises of good servitude if they grant her her life.

But dragons did not answer to the Gods.

Nor were they inclined to show mercy.

And so you watched, in delight and anticipation, as the large bronze dragon landed against the grass beside you, purring into the air with his large scarred snout, mouth full of jagged teeth opening, and eyes dancing over you. 

All watched as you reached out to touch him, the dragon rumbling deep in his chest as he leant into your hand. The bond sent sparks through your fingers and arms as you leant a forehead against him, breathing in his dragon smell, sulfur and smoke, and the distinct almost reptilian stench that they all carried. 

But your true reunion would have to wait, for the Queen and realm were waiting on you.

It was only right that you delivered the blow of justice. 

As heir.

As now stand in Hand before Corlys.

In fact, your mother and father had been most insistent upon it, if only you wanted to. 

And the Gods knew that you did.

The crowd of people shuffled backwards as Vermithor’s long tail beat against the ground forcefully, vibrating the earth beneath.

Alicent Hightower jumped in her spot, knuckles white as she stared at you in fear.

“You are guilty and have been charged of treason-”

“-I am innocent. I beg mercy, please. Rhaenyra, see reason!” Alicent cried out into the soft ocean breeze, her words lost to the crashing swell. Rhaenyra blinked impassively at the woman.

“Reason?” You parroted, “Mercy?”

“Please, it was the ambitions of a father onto his child. I had no play-“

“No play? None?” You sneered.

There was that rage again.

“I beg mercy. I will work in-“

“-Where was your mercy for the Queen when you usurped her throne?” You stiffened, Vermithor behind you growling, sensing your anger through the bond. 

“Where was your mercy for her sons? For Lucerys?”

“I was not at-“

The Bronze Fury shifted behind you, head coming to loom forward in the space beside, teeth bared as he growled at the woman who dropped to her knees in fear, legs giving out beneath her.

"Where was your mercy when you locked me in a cell? Where was your mercy when you let him rape me? Defile me.” You took a step forward towards her, “Hurt me.” 

Another step, and ice spread through your chest, “Where was your mercy when the King broke into my chambers?” You spoke dully this time, but inside you was the fire that you had hidden. Trampled by your own hands and feet in order to keep on, to keep moving. 

To survive.

Vermithor lifted his head into the sky and cried out shrilly, all around him flinching from the sudden movement. His large jaws opened, and a plume of fire shot into the air, the heat falling down around you hotly. 

You looked down at the woman who started it all. 

Her children. 

The usurp of your mother. 

The war. 

Lucerys. 

Syndor. 

Visenya. 

All of it.

“You are found guilty of treason, for the usurpation of the Iron Throne from its rightful heir. You are guilty of crimes to the Princess; Daughter and heir of the Queen. You are guilty of hiding the death of King Viserys from the people and Lords to conspire with turncloaks and oathbreakers. And you have been sentenced to death.”

You stared into the eyes of the woman before you, tears cascading down her cheeks as she looked up at you and pleaded, begged for her life, begged for mercy.

Prayed. 

Her hair was messed, her robes were crinkled and green, and as you looked at the woman you felt a surge of rage.

“Dracarys.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog @coffedraven @prettycutebunny @celestedonut @the-jess-life @ssulfurr @out-of-life @madislayyy @crazylokonugget @cicaspair418 @katwmk @relminnie @milovart @teagrex @visenyaverse @bellameshipper @toodlesxcuddles @tempt-ress @dontmindmereading7 @qyburnsghost @55gyi53vtnquwziq5 @notnormalthings-blog @maidmerrymint @qyburnsghost @madislayyy @chelseaouat

Bold is who I cannot tag!

[codywanfirstkissbingo]

Codywan First Kiss Bingo

Can't get enough of Cody and Obi-Wan's first kiss in any universe and situation? Well then we'd love to have you play our bingo!

How to Play

Fill out this form and we'll email you your shiny bingo card. Every card is a shuffled assortment of prompts that will look something like this:

Below are all the rules you should know about before you join.

General Rules

We're sure you are familiar with the rules of bingo, but just to be certain everyone is on the same page, to get a bingo you must fill five prompts in a row. That row can be vertical, horizontal, or diagonal. Fill all the prompts on your card and that's a blackout!

Get as creative with your kisses as you want but they MUST BE A FIRST KISS between Obi-Wan and Cody in some capacity. 

Prompt fills should be new works, meaning that they should not be part of an ongoing work-in-progress. Sequels and prequels to already-finished works are welcome! 

Posting Dates

Participants have the entire month of December to post bingo fills! Sign up around the time of this announcement and you will have a two month creation window before December 1st rolls around.

You can either post to our collection on ao3 and/or on tumblr but we do ask that you please tag us @codywanfirstkissbingo AND tag your post with #CWFKB2023 as we don’t want to miss anyone if tumblr drops the ball. 

If you’re posting on AO3 but want us to reblog your fill, please make a Tumblr post with the link and make sure to @ us and tag your post with #CWFKB2023. We’ll be checking the collection when tracking fills and making round-up posts with bingos and blackouts, but we will not be cross-posting every individual fill on AO3 ourselves if the creator has not made a tumblr post.   

Please include a screenshot of your bingo tag with the prompt fill indicated so we know which square you’ve filled!

Specific Rules

Fic: 100 words minimum per prompt fill. To be clear, the kiss itself does not have to last 100 words, though we'd be delighted to see that.

Art: One drawing per fill (digital or traditional). Different drawings can be on the same canvas/page if you so wish. Go wild with your compositions.

Podfic: Same requirements as fic. You can collaborate with someone writing a fic specifically for the event or find an existing fic that fills your prompt.

Fanmix: One song per fill- we'd love to see what songs give you codywan first kiss vibes. Try to match lyrics to your prompt but instrumental songs are cool too.

Other: Send an ask with your inquiry! We're more than happy to discuss expanding the fanwork pool to maximize creativity.

Ratings

You can post any work with any rating, but please abide by the appropriate rating/archive warning/tags on AO3 when posting there. When posting on tumblr, please warn for potentially triggering content in the tags and the header to the post, so readers can filter as needed. Anything spicy or explicit should go under a read-more tag, and please use a read-more tag if you’re posting a fic that is longer than a drabble (100 words) to be considerate of people’s dashboard feeds.

To help make this event a safe one for Codywan fans with any kind of photosensitivity, we do specifically request that you tag any and all flashing imagery with #flashing. If you're unsure what constitutes flashing, please see this article, or err on the side of caution for any image with: moving stripes or checkered patterns; strobe light, lightning, or explosion effects in any image or video; images of flickering light/sunlight on leaves/water; very fast cuts between images in a gif or video; rapidly moving images in an animation or gif set that stop and start or “stutter;” sparkle text or similar moving text effects; and images in an animation, gifset, or video that are in high color contrast to each other (for example, a gif set that cuts pink Barbie gifs with black & white Oppenheimer gifs to create a fast-moving contrast between the two styles.) 

The CWFKB mods' decision is final on whether your post/entry requires a flashing warning; they will contact you to ask you to update your tags if you haven’t already noted in your tumblr or AO3 post that your fill contains #flashing content. If you are not willing to use the flashing tag, even after being contacted by the mods, the mods have the right to decide that under-tagged flashing fills will be disqualified from the event.

Finally– with exceptions for the NSFW or #spicy and #flashing tags on tumblr– you have the right to choose not to warn readers in accordance with AO3’s “choose not to warn” option, but posters whose tags or ratings are deceptive or misleading versus the actual content may have their fills disqualified.

When in doubt, please contact the mods! The mods will contact you about any fill where the tags and ratings raise this concern, with a request that you revise and update your tags and warnings.

Combining Prompts

This is a low stakes event and we just want people to have fun! If you want to combine prompts that's totally fine, but we ask that you give each fill its own scene within the larger work. This means there should be a separate kiss for each prompt, even if the 'scene' is a series of types of kisses all in a row.

Swapping Prompts

Nearly have a bingo but there's that one pesky prompt in your way you don't vibe with? Go ahead and swap it with another prompt on your card. As all the prompts are randomly selected and not handpicked for participants; we understand there's a chance some of the prompts may not inspire you so we allow ONE and only ONE SWAP PER CARD. Use it carefully if you need it!

Behind the Scenes

This bingo is modded by tumblr users @dontbelasagnax @lttrsfrmlnrrgby and @notthestarwar. Since we're big fans of the previous codywan bingos, we felt the drive to bring the fun back for anyone else that has missed the event as much as us!

Our adorable profile picture was drawn by @anaclastic-azurite! 

You can actually find the public inception of this bingo event right here!

If you have any further questions after reading our rules, our askbox is open!

@swfandomevents

(NB: edited Oct. 9 to add "vertical.")

(NB: edited Nov. 10 to add "This means there should be a separate kiss for each prompt, even if the 'scene' is a series of types of kisses all in a row.")

[queer-codedhero]

Tips to Support an Autistic Little!! 🧸🍼

as an caregiver of a little with autism and hyper sensitivity here are some things I have learned to support them for anyone who maybe a new caregiver or just want tips for your autistic baby 💕☁️

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Always remember your littles special interests! My little has a special interest of snakes! I love to buy them snake stuffies in order to make them happy and encourage them. I also send photos of snakes when saying hi or the help them be happy during hard times. If your little has a special interest to a TV show I recommend watching it (or some of it) in order to make references or do impressions of the characters. I attempt to remember facts about their interests. If they know them I can get excited to hear them talk about their favorite snakes! I recommend trying to understand their interest in order to support their interests 💕🐍

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

2. A lot of autistic littles may not enjoy dress up like other littles! Always try to find clothes they feel comfortable in. My little doesn’t like clothes with multiple textures and loves pjs! I always ask if they’d prefer to change into a onesie rather than their day outfit even if they like it. I also cut off the tags on my littles clothes to insure that it doesn’t bother her skin. After bathes I recommend asking your little if they’d like you to warm up their towel and clothes so they are warm a safe putting them on 🎀💕

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

3. when you go out in public a little may feel nervous and not like noises. Remember their brain feels small and they’re a lot of stimulation. Many littles love theme parks like Disney but autistic littles may find big places more stressful than fun. I have found that littles love going on adventures away from the noise and stress! Always offer your little to hold your hand if they may feel overwhelmed or are in public areas. Attempt to find quiet alternative to fun activities like a picnic in a flower field rather than a park. Always give your little comfort in knowing if they are over stimulated you are ok with finding something better suited for them.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

4. Encouraging stimming! When your little stims it allows them to regulate their emotions and body. Stimming takes many form and you should always allow your little to stim without fear of judgement. Stims can be verbal, tactile, oral and so much more! Some littles benefit from fidget toys when stimming others jump and flap their hands. Try to recognize the stims that they do when happy vs upset. If a little flaps their arms when playing that is a positive stim however if they flap their arms when someone is loud or yelling that is negative! Unsure they are safe to stim negative and positive but always try to communicate if their are negative stims!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

5. Littles with autism will likely have self destructive tendencies. Whether they are or are not intentional depend on the little. These behaviors should never be met with aggression or “the silent treatment” punishing a little (or anyone for that matter) is a boarder-line abusive attitude. These behaviors are not “attention seeking” these behaviors are often uncontrollable, scary and painful. When a little tells you or show you any injury from these behaviors, immediately check the severity. Often times you will be able to clean and care for it without a doctor, however in rare cases you will need professional help. If you find that their wound is too deep and is bleeding none stop go to an ER for help. If this is not a case. Comfort the little and don’t pry for information and instead tell them you care for them and that this is scary for you as well. Tell them you are happy they came to you so you can help and encourage them to tell you next time they feel this way. Ask your little if they cleaned it then show them how to clean it. Then bandage or put a bandaid on it. (Unless the cut in moist or bleeding, in this case give it air) Give your little more care until they feel better! Always give them cuddles (if they like) and give them all your care and help. Avoid using words that may trigger them such as self harm or injury. Instead use boo-boo or no-no spot. Also attempt to give your little none dangerous activities to help their need for these repetitive and dangerous activities. Try to find artistic expression such as drawing injuries or cutting paper. If your little finds cutting paper helpful perhaps add red paper underneath. If your little needs a way to feel the same pain you can try ice or rubber band snapping. To represent the feeling of having marks on them they can be offered to draw on themselves with markers. If the act of scratching or biting is uncontrollable, offer them a paci or teether. You can also use bandages to cover the areas they may harm to protect their skin. It may help to hold their hands to avoid scratching when stressed.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

[wordbunch]

GREAT MIDDLE EARTH BAKEOFF: the fellowship edition

aka this is what happens when my mind runs free

Aragorn mixes unusual flavors but somehow makes them work

However, making aesthetically pleasing cakes isn't his strong suit

Legolas, on the other hand, has the most beautiful and intricate decoration

Sometimes mixes interesting flavors, but the rest of the time his stuff tastes just a bit too bland; he will give a very poetic detailed description of why it is the way it is

Merry is there mostly for friendships and having fun (and trying others' recipes) HOWEVER he becomes ambitious and actually quite quite good

Frodo is the one who seems very put together until like the last 5 minutes when something goes terribly wrong (just imagine those compilation videos of like, cakes utterly falling apart and stuff)

Gimli as inspiration always uses flavors and traditions from back home (why is it spicy)

Also his ultimate goal is to just be ranked higher than Legolas but they're both pretty mid-tier

Boromir has a relatively weak start, but eventually gets gradually better and better; however he plays it pretty safe

Gandalf seems to be working extremely slowly most of the time and everyone wonders how he always manages to get everything perfectly done on time; and he has random smoking breaks and just wanders off to who knows where

Pippin is there because his cousins are there, but he turns out to have very whimsical, creative and Unconventionally good ideas; sings to himself while working

Sam makes the most calorie-rich stuff with really good quality ingredients, but he has to work on the presentation and the visual aspect

at the start he is unsure of himself and feels a bit inadequate but his confidence grows over time

He always jumps in to help anyone who needs helping

The judges are Eowyn, Arwen and Bilbo (I will not take criticism) + guest judge Elrond??

--

do i even tag people in this bs?? i guess so YOU WILL SUFFER ME

✨ taglist my beloved ✨ @lotrnonsense​​​​​​ @starlady66​​​​​​ @queenmeriadoc​​ @entishramblings​​​​​​ @thesolarangel​​​​​​ @silversword7000​​​​​​ @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog​​​​​​ @averys-place​​​​​​ @valkyriepirate​​​​​​ @emmaarenstarr​​​​​​ @noldorinpainter​​​​​​ @asianbutnotjapanese​​​​​​ @adamgetawaydriver​​​​​​ @fenharel-enaste​​​​​​ @ironmandeficiency​​​​​​      @starryeyedrogue​​ @dinofromspac3​​  @wisheduponastar

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 40 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

It just goes from one thing to the next!

TW- talks of R*pe, SA, Violence, talks of assault, (please let me know if I missed any).

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut , @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls, @lovememadly92 @lucyfromtheoldhouse @blueberry-ovaries, @next-autopsy, @saintmalosunsets, @anaso12 anyone else please let me know.

I made my way back into the building, the men raised their heads watching me walk back in. I could see the concern and melancholy on their faces. If there was one thing the men could agree on, it was how much we loved the medic. We would do anything to protect her and keep her safe from harm. 

But were we failing? Again she had gotten hurt, and no one was there to help when she needed us most. 

“How is she?” Babe asked, standing from his seat. The other men looked at me waiting for an answer. 

“She’s not good, boys. I don’t know if she’s going to be ok.” I felt myself getting choked up again at the thought of her broken stance. I rubbed my hand over my face. The men hung their heads. Bull stepped forward hugging me. I didn't push him away, I needed it. I stepped back from Bull, his eyes were red. 

“What am I going to do?” I said out loud, the men looked at me, at each other, unsure of the answer to that question. 

“We just have to take it day by day.” Frank said softly. I nodded. 

“I’m taking her to Doc.” God they looked just about as broken as she did. I left them in the room. Walking back out to find Emily staring at the night sky. 

“You ready?” I asked, coming to stand beside her. 

“That’s where I went.” She muttered, head still tilted back. “I floated up from my body. I drifted up into the sky, I could see everything from that high up. I left my body behind. I saved myself.” 

“You didn’t fight?” I asked, unsure how she would react to my question. She shook her head. 

“I did what I had to do.” My heart broke at that moment. Knowing she didn’t fight, she just let it happen. It hurt so much more. She took it. She endured it. So she could live. 

“Does that make me a coward?” She asked, her voice shaking slightly. “I know some people scream and fight. But I don’t know. I just didn’t. I had made the decision before I knew what I was doing. I complied.” Em’s eyes were still focussed on the sky above her, she didn’t want to look at me.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear this right now, Em. But you’re so brave. You are not a coward. You survived. Like you said you did what you had to do, so that you could come back to us.” I said gently. She finally looked at me. Her lip quivered as I spoke. Tears fell from her eyes, leaving wet streaks behind on her skin. 

“I wanted to come back to you.” She whispered. Tears brimmed in my eyes. I felt them fall. She walked forward and pressed herself into my chest, wrapping her arms around my torso. I hugged her back. 

We walked in silence, our hands joined together as we made our way to the makeshift aid station. I had been set up in the gym of the establishment where we were currently deployed. I pushed open the door letting Em slide past me, our hands finally disconnected as we walked into the room. 

My chest tightened at the view in front of us, Grant lay still on a stretcher, a pint of blood hanging from his bed. The line from the transfusion hung down from the side of the cot connecting to the cannula that was inserted into Grant’s wrist. 

The oxygen mask covered his face, but his slow breathing left fog on the plastic. It would come and go each time he inhaled then exhaled again. 

Other than Grant’s steady breathing, the room was silent. Speirs sat at his bedside gnawing at his thumb absentmindedly as he watched over his soldier. Gene was in the corner of the room packing away instruments and other medical supplies. 

Neither of the men had heard us enter. Em stood in front of me bouncing from one foot to the other, unsure whether or not to make our presence known. 

I cleared my throat alerting the men of our arrival. Speirs and Gene lifted their heads from their respective tasks. Neither of the men smiled or greeted us, only pained looks shone in their eyes. 

Emily was stuck in her position, not moving. I could see from the angle she stood her eyes were trained on Grant and Speirs, but she was frozen. I walked up behind her, my hand finding the small of her back as I gave her a gentle nudge to free her from her daze. 

Her eyes found mine, seemingly asking me if it was ok to go and see Grant. I gave a slight nod, signalling that it was fine. I held back, giving her the space she needed.  

Emily POV:

My feet moved forward slowly, as I shuffled toward where Grant lay still. Speirs dropped the man’s hand leaving from his position at the bedside. Ron passed me, his fingers grazing mine as he walked to where Don stood behind me. 

I glanced over my shoulder to see Ron take Don by the shoulder and lead him out of the room. I waited till the door clicked shut before I turned back around to stare at Grant. 

Letting out a shaky breath I took the position where Ron had just been. Grant’s head was wrapped in bandages, he wasn’t wearing the same clothes I had last seen him in, someone must have changed him before or after he went into surgery. The smell of antiseptic permeated the air, as the sound of his soft breathing filled the silence. 

“Doctor said he was going to live.” My head shot up, I had completely forgotten that Gene was still in the room with me. 

I hastily wiped the tears from my eyes and sniffed, nodding my head. “That’s great.” 

“How about we get you treated?” Gene asked, coming closer to the hospital bed that Grant occupied.   

“Ok.” I said, before bending down and pressing a soft kiss to Grant’s cheek.

Roe led me behind a partition, there was a bed and a small cabinet filled with supplies. I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands clasped together in my lap as Gene rustled around gathering what he needed before turning back to me. 

“Speirs told me you have a bullet wound. We should take care of that first.” Gene placed a metal kidney dish filled with gauze, forceps, and a dressing, down on the bed beside me.  

I slowly undid my jacket, wincing as I pulled it from my shoulders. My fingers undid my buttons, before removing my shirt, I too slid it off until I sat in my white singlet that was not so white anymore. 

Gene’s fingers were surprisingly gentle as he pulled down the strap of my singlet and bra. His face twisted as he inspected the wound that still slowly oozed blood. 

“Looks like the bullet is still in there.” Roe’s Cajun accent washed over me. “I’ll remove it and stitch you up.” 

Doc got right to work. I gritted my teeth together as he plunged the forceps into the bullet hole. I gripped the bed as he worked, wincing the more he wiggled around trying to find the bullet. 

“You’re doing good Em.” He mumbled as he continued in his search. 

The tiniest clink sound could be heard as the instrument met metal. I took a deep breath as Gene grasped the bullet and removed it from the wound. I sighed in relief, thankful that the worst of it was over. We sat in comfortable silence as Gene stitched me up and dressed the wound. 

“Tilt your head up for me.” Roe asked after he had finished with my shoulder. 

I did as he asked, tipping my head back to expose my throat. Gene’s hands landed on my neck, his fingers adding slight pressure as he assessed the area. I gasped pulling out of his hold when he landed on the more tender part of my skin. 

“Sorry Em.” His face held a guilty expression. 

“It’s ok, it’s just sore there.” I again tilted my head back letting him finish the job. 

“You’ve got some nasty bruising lining your oesophagus.” Gene said as his fingers trailed down the cartilage under my skin. 

“It’s definitely in the early stages of bruising, so I suspect it will get worse and there will be some swelling. But you’re able to talk and move your head and neck normally, so he hasn’t done permanent damage.” I nodded my head as Gene gave me the verdict. 

“Now your cheek, we can just disinfect. Doesn’t look like it needs any stitches and he hasn’t gotten your eye, so that’s good.” He paused, as if there was something else he was hesitating to say. I watched him take a deep breath before he carried on with his thoughts. 

“I know you didn’t explicitly tell Captain Speirs about the assault.” My stomach dropped. 

“But from what I’ve heard, the replacement-” He swallowed, “He um, he.” 

“Raped me.” I finished the sentence, not wanting to see him struggle any longer trying to form the words about my assault. 

“Yes.” Tension lined Gene’s shoulders. “I think we need to do an exam. To ensure that he hasn’t done any damage that could potentially be harmful to you.” 

My hearing went, all that filled my ears was a high pitched tone. It droned on as Gene spoke. 

“Are you ok with that?” I barely heard him, but I could read his lips. I nodded slowly as if on autopilot.  

Gene left the partition. He was giving me privacy. I slipped down from the bed, undoing the button from my pants. I pulled everything down before hopping back up and lying down to stare at the ceiling.  

Soon he arrived back at the head of the bed hovering over me. He explained the procedure before he walked down to where the bottom half of my body lay. I bent my knees and focussed on the ceiling above me. 

Tears slowly trickled down my cheeks as Gene assessed me. My teeth dug into the bottom of my lip keeping the sobs rising in my throat at bay. The examination wasn’t comfortable as Roe poked and prodded, he needed to be sure that the man hadn’t done any detrimental damage to me. 

Still, it didn’t ease the panic in my chest. 

“Almost done, Em.” His voice was barely audible over the blood that rushed into my head. 

My fingers dug into the linoleum mattress to stop them from violently shaking. I counted to ten over and over in my head, waiting for the gruelling minutes to tick by. 

“Em.” I heard Gene’s voice closer to me now. 

I opened my eyes to find a sorrowful Roe looking down at me. He helped me sit up before leaving the room as I got my clothes back in place again. 

“I’m done.” My shaky voice called out. 

Gene returned teary eyed, he took a deep breath. “I couldn’t see any permanent injury, but there was some slight tearing. It should take a few days to heal up and will most likely be uncomfortable. I can also get you a morning after pill, if you would like.” 

I swallowed, “I think that would be good.” My voice lurched as I spoke, my tears making it harder to form a coherent sentence. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Em.” Gene’s voice matched mine, filled with emotion. It broke me. 

Sobs wracked my body as Gene stood between my legs holding me to his chest. 

“Can you get Don for me?” I asked Gene, we had been huddled here for 10 minutes but my cries never ceased. 

“Of course I can.” Gene hurried from the room.

I heard the click of the doors opening and rushed footsteps against the wooden floor. Don appeared from behind the partition, all I could do was reach out for him as I wept.  

He crushed me into his chest as I howled, I gripped onto him so tightly I thought I was going to draw blood. 

Don pulled back to sweep the tears from my cheeks as I hiccupped in his arms. 

“Let it all out my love. You were wronged, you were hurt, your feelings are valid. You have every right to feel. So feel. I am here to support you through this, we will do whatever it takes. You have me, I am not going anywhere.” Don’s words made me cry harder as I buried my face into his neck. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes and somewhere warm.” Don’s hands slipped under my thighs as he picked me up. I kept my arms tightly wrapped around his neck. My anchor, my rock. 

Don brought us back to my room, placing my gently on the bed and picking out some clothes for me to wear to bed. He helped me peel the dirty clothes from my body, but still I didn’t feel clean. 

“Can we shower?” I asked, wanting to wash the feeling of the man’s hands from my body.   

I stripped back down to my underwear, not wanting to be fully vulnerable just yet. Don kept on his singlet and shorts as we sat in the bottom of the shower letting the hot water wash away the events of the night. I let Don scrub me clean with soap as I cried, my tears mixing with the hot water that sprayed down on us. 

The hot water washed away all that had happened. Not just from tonight, not from Noville, not from Bastogne, not even from when I fell through the shimmer. I wanted to wash myself of everything, the pain of losing my mother, my family, my friends. 

So many times I had broken, to be picked up again and pieced back together. But how many times can you break something and put it back whole. 

After a while the pieces get too small, crushed underfoot, or lost. 

How much of myself was left to be pieced together again? When would be the last time I fall apart never to be fixed. How much can the mind and body take? I didn’t want to have to endure life, what good is life if it is just tolerated? 

I wanted to thrive, live. 

Could I thrive in this state? 

I screamed and cried, noises I don’t think have ever left my body before. Proper sobs, where I let it all go. I didn’t care if people heard me, I wailed and sobbed until my throat was raw, until I was physically exhausted. Don carried me from the bathroom, drying and then redressing the broken girl that shivered before him. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Don asked as he tucked the covers under my chin. 

“Yes.” I meekly replied from under the blankets. 

Malarkey snuggled in behind me, his arms wrapping around my middle and pulling me close. I listened to his breathing change as he slowly fell asleep, unfortunately slumber didn’t greet me that night. The room was pitch black as I stared into the nothingness.  

My head was empty, no thoughts invaded my mind. I liked it. The silence, the quiet. I have always had a busy brain, being a people pleaser and an over thinker there never was a dull moment in my head. I always had the most vivid dreams as well, it was always going, never stopped or rested. But now all the noise fell away. Like a busy street had been deserted. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry. Everything had been numbed, muted. I was drained. 

I didn’t want to face the men again. I knew they loved me, but people look at you differently when something like this happens. Like you’re a fragile china doll.

I didn’t want them to see me any differently than before, I didn’t need them to be careful with me. I didn’t want their pitiful looks, their sorrowful faces. I didn’t need to be whispered about when walking into a room. 

I wished the replacement hadn’t told them. It’s personal, it’s about my body and he told all the people I cared about exactly how he defiled me. Now I’m not the same, not to myself, or them. I’m tainted, dirty. I’m a victim. It’s hard to scrub that from anyone’s mind. 

Sighing I rolled over, burying my face into Don’s chest as he slept soundly. I let his smell fill my senses, I was safe here, in his arms. 

I must’ve fallen asleep at some point as Don jostled me awake as he tried to sneak out of the bed. 

My eyes fluttered open to find a frozen Don staring down at me. 

“Sorry Em, I need to go to training. I didn’t want to wake you.” He sat at the edge of the bed, pushing rogue curls out of my eyes. 

“It’s ok, I need to see Doc anyway.” I sat up from under the covers, the thought of falling back to sleep alone didn’t appeal to me. 

We got ready together, Don walked me back to where Doc was set up. 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Don asked as he placed a gentle kiss on my uninjured cheek. 

“Of course.” My fingers still intertwined with his until the last moment he walked away. 

I walked back through the door where I had been last night. Grant wasn’t in the room anymore, but I could hear Gene rummaging around in the back. 

Rounding the partition I found Gene stockpiling goods. 

“Where did Grant go?” I asked, Gene looked up from his task and smiled gently at me before he answered. 

“Speirs organised that Grant was to be shipped back as soon as possible. They took him early this morning.” 

My eyes were trained on the spot he was in last night, the bed now empty. 

“That’s good then.” I nodded, finally looking back to the medic who stood in front of me. 

Gene glanced at me, he looked at me like he wondered what I was doing here. I realised I hadn’t told him the reason for my visit. 

“I came for the uh- morning after pill. You said you were going to get it for me.” I clarified when his brows furrowed. 

“Ah, yes.” I watched the thought click in his brain. He turned back around going through the box I just watched him pack the last of his supplies into. 

Gene pulled out a blister pack holding one pill. “I’ll get you some water.” He said as he passed me the tray. 

Roe scurried away as I filled the unmarked packing over in my hands as I wondered where he had gotten it from on such short notice. Not as if the men ever needed them. 

He appeared again, a glass of water in hand this time. I popped the pill from the blister and dropped it on my tongue before washing it down with the water he had handed me. 

“You know the side effects?” Gene clarified before he left. 

“Yeah I do.” 

“Thanks again Gene.” I waved him off as he left to do his respective job. I stood in the doorway, not wanting to go back inside by myself and with nothing else to do, I decided to go on a walk.

I shuffled down the gravel road, kicking the stones as I walked. I filled my lungs with the fresh pine air while the birds quietly chirped in the trees. The warm sun beat down on my back as I strolled. The road was quiet, no cars drove past while I meandered down the path. 

The hairs on the back of my neck suddenly stood on end as goosebumps pricked my skin. I raised my head to glance in front of me. 

My heart dropped, just a way in front of me glinting in the sunlight like a cruel joke was the shimmer.

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Chapter 41