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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 2 months ago

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ANOTHER CHAPTER ALREADY?!

I mean

I dunno what happened

It kinda wrote itself, I had no real hand in this

Please consult with my muses on the subject, I didn't know they were this cracked out tonight

Anyway awaaaay we gggoooooooooo

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x AFAB!Marine!Reader

Ch. 7 of something there's gonna be at least two more chapters

First Chapter link Previous Chapter link

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. He's discovered your secret, and your life hangs in the balance of his mercy.

Possible !!Trigger Warnings!! in this chapter!! Largely for imprisonment and psychological turmoil, though not necessarily psychological torture yet. I will say, for readers who are used to my writing characters with a relatively gentle depiction, I likely won't be taking quite as gentle of an approach here. There is some Yandere possessiveness prevalent here that I haven't written much before.

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later

Word Count: 3,095

Taglist: @i-am-vita @browneyedhufflepuff @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @littleleelee @nerium-lil @schanwow @dragon-bubs @animefreak818

I'm happy to add anyone that asks. Still flabbergasted that the list is this long.

I forgot to do a music thing last time bc I was so sleepy but I'mma do one this time but IT'S NOT FRATELLIS?? WHO IS EVEN RUNNING THIS BLOG?? SHOULD YOU CALL THE AUTHORITIES??

♫♬The Game- Disturbed♬♫

Tell me, exactly what am I supposed to do, now that I've allowed you to beat me?

Do you think that we could play another game? Maybe I could win this time

Dead, you were dead, he was going to kill you, and all he would have to do to get the job done would be to leave your right there in the shallows and let the tide slowly wash in until you were submerged, drained of strength and helpless.

To tighten his powerful grip around your neck until you ceased gasping for air.

To pull the golden cross from around his neck and plunge the small knife hidden within it into your torso, drag the sharp blade across your neck, watch the light leave your eyes.

So many ways he could kill you, in this very moment.

And yet his hand moved up your neck slowly, his grip unwavering as his fingers wrapped around your jaw instead. He tilted his head the slightest bit as he turned your head to one side, taking in your features with an air of both amusement and vague interest.

“And you were doing so well,” he said lightly, letting out a small sigh as he shook his head. You flinched as the rough pad of his thumb brushed across your cheek. “If you could have just refrained from making that silly little call to your boss last night—aw,” he added, an edge of mockery in his quiet words. “Did you think I was sound asleep the whole time? Poor thing.”

It hadn’t appeared as if he had done more than shift from his back to his side in the time you were gone last night—there had been absolutely no sign that he had gotten out of bed, not a single sound outside the cracked door of the study.

You should have known better.

“Though I must say, I do appreciate the vote of confidence.” Mihawk stood in a swift motion, tightening his grip around your jaw to pull you up with him, drawing a sharp gasp of alarm from you as your feet lifted a few inches from the ground. Still drenched in seawater, you didn’t even have the strength to lift your arms, held up only by his grasp, limp as a ragdoll. “‘No weaknesses.’ I’m almost flattered.”

You swallowed as he brought you closer, lifting his eyebrows a bit, the corner of his mouth curving the smallest bit into an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Provided it wasn’t a lie. You have quite the penchant for fooling others, it seems.” He quirked his brow a bit higher, his eyes darting up and down your limp form before settling back on yours. “Well? Was it a lie?”

“Mm—n-no,” you managed to choke out weakly, your eyes wincing and beginning to burn as his fingertips dug harder into your jaw and cheeks. “No…”

“No?” he repeated lightly. “Now, I’m sure you can do better than that, considering how polite you were with your employer last night. And I’m afraid it’s not them you’re answering to anymore. Try again.”

You swallowed dryly, your eyes flickering down toward his hand. “N—no, sir,” you whimpered.

“Ah, much better. Now, then….” The spark of amusement remained present in his yellow eyes as he rubbed his thumb against your cheek once again. “I suppose we should get you back inside and dried off, yes? I’d hate to see you get sick, pet.”

Your stomach felt as if it had dropped out of your body when he lifted you abruptly and flung you over his shoulder, your consciousness wavering between the complete sapping of your strength from the seawater still drenching your clothes and the state of shock you were left in. You drifted in and out during the trek back to the castle, your muscles limp and useless. You didn’t jolt back to a remotely aware state until he heaved you off and dropped you onto the cold stone floor of an unfamiliar part of the castle.

“I do just hate to have to cage you after all this time,” he said as you gazed around, your eyes squinted against the darkness. Judging from the lack of windows, you were below the ground level—and this was confirmed when he lit a torch along the wall opposite the one you were leaning against. “Nearly two months, it’s been, hasn’t it? Hmm. How the time flies.”

The dim orange light of the flame expanded as he lit another, and you realized he had deposited you in a small, square cell. The stone walls and floor were the same as the rest of the castle, if a great deal dustier, but the heavy iron bars and door made it clear that you were in the dungeon beneath the fortress.

“But, you’ve really left me no choice,” he went on with a soft, disappointed sigh. You could just make out his silhouette against the flickering firelight, the rattle of chains as he dug around in the drawer of a heavy desk just within your line of sight. “At least for now. I can’t have you escaping before we have a proper discussion about…” He lifted a heavy pair of iron shackles, examining them before giving a short nod. “About several things, really.”

He stepped slowly into the cell, his pace one of leisure, and stopped a few feet away from you, looking down at your pitiful form as you leaned back against the stone wall of the cell, struggling to steady your breathing, shivering in your damp clothes. He frowned as he looked you up and down, and gave a nod toward you.

“Off,” he said, his voice low but commanding enough that you jumped slightly, your brow furrowing as you tried to discern his meaning. “Off,” he repeated. “Can’t have you getting sick. We have a great deal to talk about.”

Your clothes. You glanced down at the wet fabric clinging to your skin, your stomach turning—he was telling you to get out of your clothes.

“Oh, modest, are we?” he said dryly, lifting an eyebrow. He took another step forward, crouching in front of you. You flinched back a bit when he reached a hand out and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Two months you’ve spent constantly at my side. I’m certain I’ve changed clothes in your presence more than a handful of times.”

“I...I didn’t...look,” you whimpered out, swallowing, closing your eyes as your face flared with heat.

“No, you didn’t,” he agreed. “I did find that curious, but you were quite the curious little bird.” You opened your eyes when you heard the chains of the shackles clink lightly, and watched as he stood, rolling his eyes as he turned around, his back to you. “Fine,” he said. “You may keep your undergarments. They’ll dry quickly enough.”

You almost wished that he had just killed you out by the shore. The embarrassment, the utter humiliation of pulling your tank top over your head and letting it fall to the floor with the towering form of the swordsman only a few feet away was enough to make you wish you could drop dead on the spot. You fumbled with your belt buckle, the buttons at the fly of your pants, before kicking them off along with your boots, wrapping your arms around your knees and clenching your eyes shut, trembling from more than just the cold, damp air of the dungeon now.

You heard a rustle of fabric in front of you, and before you could open your eyes you felt the material land in a heap at your feet. You cracked an eye open and frowned at the white heap.

Glanced up at him, your eyes widening as you realized he had removed his flowy, ruffled shirt, his back and shoulders bare as he crossed his arms, still facing the door of the cell.

“Put it on,” he commanded, stepping out of the cell. “And quickly. I pride myself on many things, my dear pet, but patience is not among them.”

You were already picking up the shirt and shrugging it around your shoulders before he finished, fumbling with the buttons with unsteady hands. The shirt was large enough on your much smaller form that it covered you from your shoulders to more than halfway down your thighs, the hem brushing your knees as you tugged it down, staring down at the floor, listening to the chair at the desk scrape across the stone. He set it down in front of you and tossed the shackles down at your feet, taking a seat and crossing an ankle over his knee.

“Those as well,” he said.

The moment your hand touched the shackles, you felt what little strength you had managed to regain begin to drift away from your body all over again. He chuckled when you drew your hand back as if you had been shocked.

“Seastone,” he said. “I salvaged them from the wreckage of a Marine vessel a handful of years ago. Thought they might prove useful one day. Go on.” He nodded down at them as you briefly met his eyes. “Around your ankles. So long as you remain compliant, I will allow you the continued use of your hands. You may need them at some point.”

You didn’t dare ask what that might mean.

You did, however, do as he told you. The seastone shackles felt as if they weighed fifty or more pounds, and it took some effort for you to drag them up even to the height of your ankles and clamp them shut.

“Very good,” he commended, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms, his eyes never leaving you as you slumped back weakly against the walls. “Still such an obedient pet, aren’t you?” Every breath you drew in took a herculean effort, felt as if it might be the last you managed to draw before you passed out from sheer physical exhaustion. “Now, this is a first on my part. I’ve never been one to waste time taking prisoners. You ought to consider yourself privileged. Grateful for my continued hospitality despite your blatant betrayal.”

You swallowed, unable to do anything but give a weak nod.

He gave another small chuckle. “You’ve been trained to handle being the victim of a potential hostage situation,” he commented—it wasn’t a question. He cocked his head slightly to the side. “You’re quite small for a Marine. What rank are you, little bird?”

“Cadet,” you forced out—and, when he lifted an eyebrow, you quickly added, “s—sir.”

“Cadet,” he repeated, leaning back a bit further. “Hm.” He lifted a hand to his chin, his expression thoughtful as he brushed his thumb across his short goatee. “And they saw fit to send you after me.” You nodded again. “Your commanding officers either have a great amount of faith in your potential or they were trying to get rid of you. Which do you think it was?”

“T...they offered me the mission,” you said quietly. “I could have turned it down.”

“Faith in your potential, then,” he said lightly. “What a pity for them Of course, they weren’t wrong,” he went on, lowering his hand down to his knee, strumming his fingers there slowly. “You did play your role well. Well enough to fool that charming pet shop owner in Acacia, even. A veritable expert on the subject. You must have done your homework. Breezed through all your tests with flying colors. I did my own homework, as you know. Amid my reading, I recall mention that wounded or sick pets might show signs of decreased appetite. Interruption of sleep. In extreme cases, potentially isolating themselves from their owners. You see…” He tilted his head once more to meet your eyes, his gaze holding your own with an intensity that made it impossible for you to break the contact. “Had I not woken last night we might not even be having this conversation. Had I not noticed your absence and worried enough to go looking for you.”

Your worry over your mission. Your inability to eat or sleep regularly. Of course he had noticed. You were an idiot to think he wouldn’t have noticed.

“Had I not heard a voice coming from the study below my chambers,” he went on, lowering his voice, “you might have been able to complete your mission without a single hitch. I would have been forced to assume when you left that you had flown off somewhere to die.”

You flinched at that, closing your eyes and lowering your head.

“Oh, now what is this?” He chuckled. “Are we feeling guilty?”

“Yes.” You spoke through gritted teeth—there was no point in lying. You were already compromised, already at his mercy. “I…made the call last night because I…I couldn’t leave with nothing to show for it. Or without…” You swallowed once more, lowering your head to your knees. “I only had four days left. I was expected to slip away unnoticed and rendezvous with my commanding officers at a designated location before returning to Marineford to report on any potential weaknesses of yours I might have discovered.”

“And you claimed you found none,” he continued for you.

You nodded. “But...caring for another living creature is always a potential weakness,” you said quietly.

“Aaah.” You swallowed dryly, clenching your eyes shut tighter as you heard him push the chair back. The whisper of his boots on the stone floor as he took a step forward, the quiet rustle as he crouched down in front of you. “And you were unwilling to list your own presence as a potential weakness. Is that it?” You nodded again, and tensed as he caught your chin in his hand. “And here I’ve already admitted to having worried for the well-being of my pet. You certainly did do a stellar job, didn’t you, my little bird?”

His tone, his touch was almost gentle, despite that edge of persisting amusement at your predicament.

“Open your eyes.”

You obeyed his command once again—though your eyelids fluttered in your growing state of exhaustion brought on by the effects of the seastone shackles wrapped around your ankles, you did your best to maintain eye contact, only vaguely aware of his thumb brushing across your bottom lip as you gazed into his yellow irises.

“I may yet have use for you,” he murmured, his voice still light and amused. “I suppose you are a pretty little thing, if nothing else. And your abilities...well, you managed to fool me, now, didn’t you? Don’t,” he added, his tone sharpening as your eyes began to drift shut, and they shot back open. “There’s one more matter. You spoke of some offer while you were making your call last night. What is it?”

“W...warlord,” you forced out. “The World Government wants to offer pirates they consider too dangerous to combat status as ‘Warlords.’ No more than seven. Bounties expunged in exchange for an agreement to cease hostility against Marines and other World Government officials, and potentially being called upon to assist with other threats.”

“Warlords,” he repeated, letting out a quiet chuckle. “And you’ve been granted permission to extend me this offer?” You gave a small nod, blinking slowly, fighting to keep your eyes open. “Since you’ve reported to your commanding officers that I have no weaknesses they can exploit.” Another nod, and a quiet affirmative hum. “Mm-hmm,” he repeated, smirking. “I suppose it’s worth thinking over. At least until you’ve regained the ability to discuss the subject coherently.”

“Four days.” He lifted his eyebrows at your mumbling, waiting for you to continue. “Need to make contact in four days or they could send a Buster Call.”

“Ah.” His thumb brushed across your cheek, and you found yourself leaning unconsciously toward the warmth of his palm. “So they would sink this entire island into the depths of the ocean with you still on it, would they?” The hum you gave this time was neither affirmative nor dissenting—it was simply in acknowledgment that he had spoken at all, as your lessening coherency made it increasingly difficult to follow his words. “That does sound quite like the Marines. Heaven forbid they should have any loose ends to worry about.”

He expelled a slow sigh, one that might have been of resignation or annoyance, or perhaps some melding of both. Either way, the warmth of his breath across your face made your eyes drift shut, made you fall fully limp against the wall behind you.

You barely registered anything beyond that. Not his light shake at your shoulder in attempt to rouse you, his exasperated sigh as he caught you before you could fall sideways and hit your head against the stone floor.

Not his irritated grumble of, “Troublesome woman,” as he drew one of your hands up to cushion your head against the hard stone floor before he pulled himself to his feet to frown down at you.

To wonder why he hadn’t shoved his way through the door of his study the moment he heard your voice last night and throttled you in that moment.

To wonder why the hell he still had any concern at all for your continued safety and well-being.

You had spent two months, two months deceiving him, abusing his good will, masquerading as a loyal companion when you were nothing more than a dirty little spy.

His hands twitched into fists for a moment as he stared down at you, gritting his teeth. He could end your life right now. It would be only too easy. Crush your throat beneath the heel of his boot. Wrap a hand around your delicate neck until the labored rise and fall of your chest ceased entirely. You had already warned him of the Marines’ potential intent to destroy this island. He could dispose of you and leave on his own before that ever came to pass.

You shifted in your sleep on the cold stone floor, shivering slightly and laying a hand over the toe of one of his boots.

Mihawk swore under his breath, reaching behind him to drag the chair back into place and sit down heavily, crossing his arms over his chest as he surveyed your slight form below him on the floor covered only by his own shirt.

“What exactly am I supposed to do with you?” he grumbled under his breath, shaking his head, not completely aware himself of how his own gaze softened as he looked down at you. “Useless thing….”

His prisoner.

His pet.

His pretty little bird.

He would be damned if anyone but him were allowed to decide your fate.

First chapter and Previous chapter links again for your convenience

#one piece #opla #mihawk x reader #mihawk #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #fan fiction #one piece fan fiction #fanfic #one piece fanfic #mihawk x reader fanfic #dracule mihawk x reader fanfic #flightrisk

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professoryaura · 22 days ago

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As I struggle to pick what i'mma do, thought i'll share some art involving Martin and an AU version of Batman I made

I like stupid crossovers so maybe a future comic project involving him meeting the Kratt brothers. Idk what it would be called though-

#wild kratts #martin kratt #batman #batman au #crossover

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lilgoblinbitch · 8 months ago

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saw your post about rick and daryl, do you think you could write a rick TOWL smut with him angry that you left your post and got yourself injured and he takes out his frustration on you? idk why just had that idea after the recent episode😫

Grimes' Dominion 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

rick grimes x fem!reader

a/n: ahhh omg yes i actually had time to think abt this for a few nights. i added a bit of plot to this because i love me some backstory & descriptions. but anyway i made this pretty lengthy so if u wanna skip to the smut part just look for the '💋'. here is your plotty smut! lmk your thoughts ₊˚⊹♡

warnings: smut 18+, PinV, unprotected sex, oral/face fucking (male receiving), slight bondage, fingering, ass slapping, hair pulling, orgasm denial, degradation (use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’), language, mentions of blood and injury, angsty angsty angst!, reader is a mother, overall Rick is very rough so you have been warned

wc: 6k

MDNI

It was training day at your post. You had recently graduated from consignee and signed up to become a CRM soldier. It took you six whole years to get to this point. While your agility and militia knowledge were already unprecedented, the CRM didn't fuck around when it came to producing the world's most unrivalled soldiers. It was serious business.

Nearly eight years ago, you trekked a long journey down from your small community in southern New Jersey. You lost everything: your husband, your friends, and the people you lived with and grew stronger with through the grisly and dilapidated post-apocalyptic world. Terrible people – which were apparently becoming more and more common – destroyed your community, leaving very few survivors. It was you and your newborn child who managed to escape safely; you weren't able to go back to see if others had made it out. For almost two years you were alone, and your only hope left was keeping your baby boy alive...

Fast forward two years after the traumatic fallout you managed to escape, you discovered, or rather you were found by, a giant military in Pennsylvania, called the CRM. A military that bordered and protected a whole city of people – 200,000 of them. Out of desperation and maternal instinct, you bargained with the militia in hopes to give your two-year-old son a stable future. The CRM agreed to place your son in a 'nurturing fostering service' within the safe confines of the protected city – known as the Civic Republic of Philadelphia – so long as you swore to abide by the military's code and regulations by becoming a consignee.

Of course you agreed, because you were nonetheless terrified of what would happen to your baby boy if you didn't play it safe with this strong force. But for a while you lost it, you couldn't bear not seeing your child – they took him from you. You became defensive of your child, throwing yourself into dilemmas with whoever refused to listen to you. Except no one ever took notice of an angry and hurt mother because the CRM showed little mercy about their policies. And no matter how much force you put into finding hope about getting to your son, you'd always end up falling right back where you left off.

Soon enough you learned from acquiring an acquaintance that not only did the CRM take the only family you had left away from you, they were the ones responsible for destroying your home in the first place.

But now, six years later, you were predisposed to fight whoever and whatever got in your way in order to see your son again. You were a force to be reckoned with.

"No, you're doing it wrong. You gotta follow through, like this—" your sweaty hand maneuvered the heavy spear, sending it soaring through the air at high speed and finally piercing the bullseye of the target. You turned to the soldier beside you, who, to say the least, looked perplexed.

"What?" You huffed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of your face. "Ya give up? Need a break?"

"’Ey! Rogers, I'mma need ya to head back inside. We're gonna start sizing you all up for your new gear."

A brooding and strict man, Sergeant Major Rick Grimes, commanded the young man beside you. "Uh, yes sir," he saluted, then jogged toward the dome-shaped building.

Rick Grimes used to be a consignee like you were, and you even heard stories where he tried escaping at least four times. No one ever fled, or even attempted to, without failing. Escaping the hellhole was like trying to fit your right shoe on your left foot, it was entirely fruitless. But you heard all the stories about Rick, and how he got to become a leader. After the death of Lieutenant Colonel Donald Okafor, Rick was trained to replace his position by virtue of General Beale taking note of his loyalty to the military. Now, Rick was scaling further up the ranks. He was Sergeant Major, and in charge of the post you currently resided in.

You looked up to him, though, not because he was your leader, but because he understood you. He recognized how it felt to have your family ripped from your hands and not be able to do anything about it. You were able to bond with him. Most nights he would invite you to his apartment and the two of you'd spill your guts to one another over a glass or two of bourbon. That is how he got to know you, and see through your clouded demeanor that you kept in check. You were fierce and obstinate, because the place you were trapped in forced you to be that way, and truthfully Rick admired that about you. He was never able to relate with someone as well as he did with you.

Feedback echoed from Rick's receiver and he lifted it to his masked face, stating his position and whatnot. You crossed your arms, waiting for him to give you an order. "Well?"

He turned his attention to you, finally. "We need to talk." His one good hand snagged a hold of your arm and guided you toward a smaller brick-designed building, which you recognized to be the building that housed the high ranking officials like Rick himself.

"What do we need to talk about? And why is Rogers getting his gear but I'm not?" You struggled against his grip, a decision that ended with futility as his clutch tightened when you tried pulling away from him. You furrowed your brows and grunted in annoyance.

"Relax, sweetheart, you're not in trouble. Actually it's quite the opposite." Once again he faced you, stopping in his tracks as you both had reached the air-conditioned building. His grasp on your arm loosened and then reached for his matte black helmet detailed with red outlining. Your eyes darted across the room, taking in the essence of prestige and momentarily locking in on the various framed photos on the walls, which depicted a few recognizable CRM authoritative figures. One particular photo caught your attention, and you carefully examined it, discerning it to be Rick himself with a shiny black name plate decorating the bottom of the frame.

Your gaze finally diverted back to Rick, whose helmet popped off in a swift motion, freeing his slightly disheveled brown and gray curls, and his stern blue eyes – the spellbinding reflections to his enigmatic soul. And this man was undoubtedly a sight for sore eyes.

The silence was disrupted by the shuffling of Rick’s boots, his curt footsteps leading him across the room. He pulled out a chair from the corner and without any trouble picked it up with one hand and set it down across from a dark wooden desk. “Sit.” He motioned to the chair, and then found a seat in the larger, more cushioned chair adjacent to it. Without a peep you sauntered over to the wooden chair and sat, folding your hands on the desk in front of you.

“You gonna keep me on edge or are you gonna tell me why I’m here and not at training and getting my gear?”

His serious eyes bored into yours now, hinting that he wasn’t in the mood for your cynicism. “I brought you in here to tell you that you’re going to become Colonel under my order.”

You scoffed comically and dropped your hands to your sides, gripping the chair with force. “That’s ridiculous. Me – Colonel? Why?”

Rick’s focus never left your unserious face – one that was twisted with amusement. With a slight tilt of his head, he spoke, “Because you’re one of the best fighters and you’re fit to start leading, I know it. And I trust you, so does Major General Beale. We both expect your habitual commitment from now on.”

While you were still preoccupied with processing this information, Rick reached into one of his sleeve pockets and pulled out a silver badge, decorated with ‘Col.’ followed by your full name. He slid it across the desk toward you and you scrutinized it before giving him a look of disapproval and sliding the badge back to him. You shook your head in defiance.

“No thanks.”

He frowned and once again his frigid stare taunted you, something you’d undoubtedly gotten used to very much over the past few years that you'd known him. He leaned forward and for a second you could feel the steam emitting from his nose as he exhaled, eyes scanning your face for any signs of possible sarcasm. You were dead serious now, though.

“This isn’t an offer you can refuse. It’s an order,” the sergeant commanded, grabbing the badge reiteratively and this time placing it firmly into your hand. “So take it, and don’t lose it.”

You remained perched in your spot, not stirring any muscle, just studying his face with the badge dancing across your fingertips. Rick was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. “Now do as I say, and meet me in that meeting room over there, in 10 minutes.”

You snarled and swiftly rose, shoving the badge into your zipper pocket. Without even giving Rick another look you booked it out the door full tilt.

All throughout meeting with Grimes and Command Sergeant Major Thorne and overlooking your shared brigade of soldiers, your mind couldn’t escape the worry you had about your son, and how you were going to escape and find him. Your mind raced as you tried to recollect what the map of your base looked like, so that you could pinpoint which weak spots there were around the perimeter.

You recall a little while back which security took which shifts at each area of the southwest perimeter where your complex was, but it wasn’t all that simple since sometimes they’d switch shifts around. However, security officers periodically switched their attention to different areas at a time out along the walls, so you could use that as leverage to sneak your way around and cut a hole in one of the fences–

Nah. That would be too obvious, and dangerously stupid. You needed to really think this through – come up with a strategic plan. So that’s what you were prepared to do after your first night of training as Colonel.

Sweaty and disheveled, you entered your sleeping quarters and kicked the door shut, immediately peeling off your bulky armor and tossing your heavy combat boots across the floor. With a satisfactory sigh, you trotted over to the shower and flipped the handle all the way to the left – you needed a steamy shower to filter out all the stress your body had been loaded with that day. Not only that, the steam would help you think, and you needed your head clear if you were going to figure out how to leave successfully that night.

If you were going to escape – if. You needed to keep that thought in mind, because it sure as hell wasn’t going to be a piece of cake.

Frantically you shoved a handful of essentials into a black backpack – a lighter, duct tape, a pocket knife, flashlight, and a small glock you 'borrowed' from your trip with rick to the armory earlier. After zipping up the bag you threw on your combat boots and your gloves. You checked your watch for the time; 11:48 it read. The moon was scintillating in the sky and beaming with conviction. You took one last glimpse around the room to check if you had forgotten any extra tools or gadgets, and before you confirmed that you were ready to head out, you spotted something on the rusty gunmetal colored nightstand.

Inquisitively you wandered over to the table and examined a small, white folded paper. You unfolded it and inside it read, in urgent script:

“Meet me at my place at 11:30 tonight. Need to talk again.

-R.G.”

Too late now. Not happening. Besides, you were sure it was another booty call because for one, on busy task days like tonight, Rick often had a knack for ‘letting off steam,’ which meant fucking your brains out. Sorry, Rick, but my child is more important to me than easing your sexual frustration. And two, it was already reaching midnight…why else would he want to “talk” to you so late at night? Rick was just too obvious.

Speaking of Rick…

The man who shared his bourbon with you for the first time two years ago. That very night he had spilled to you CRM’s legacy and the nightmares behind it. The two of you bonded over your mutual grievance toward the antagonizing militia. Rick spurred hope in you finally leaving and finding your son; if anyone could help you escape it was him. But he changed – his interest in leaving the CRM no longer seemed to exist. After all, he was already climbing his way up the military rank. He was gaining power and respect, and that seemed to be more crucial to him then getting back to his own children.

So, screw him. He had his chance to leave with you, and it already passed – because now you were tiptoeing out your apartment and being welcomed into the darkness of the night.

You were cautious of your surroundings, turning a few corners and eluding one or two officers. You noticed the southwest wall, which didn't look impossible to climb. You discovered a hefty pile of broken shipment container parts – bingo. And that's what you used to climb the wall. unfortunately your endeavor led to you stumbling and hitting both your knee and your arm against the metal object, then landing with your hands scraping against the unforgiving concrete. Fuck. What an idiot you were. Surely someone within about twenty feet of you heard you basically eat shit.

Gritting your teeth and whimpering from the twinge that shot through your knees and hands, you managed to put every fiber of your being to use and push yourself off the ground, only to end up on your ass with a humph. You winced as you peeked at your hands, using the flashlight from your bag to examine how badly cut they were. Blood leaked from multiple crevices in your palms, and you didn’t even bother paying much mind to your bruised knee or elbows because there was no time to dawdle.

“Shit. You need to get up now!” You scolded yourself, but as you tried standing up completely, your knees buckled. Well, at least behind this building it was dark enough for no one to see you, unless they heard you already…

Your alert ears picked up the sound of shoes marching upon the solid ground, and you cursed to yourself; someone was coming, but there was nothing you could do because they had already heard you most likely. “Just play dead, or pretend you passed out!”

You heard your name being called out from somewhere behind you.

The pace of your heartbeat quickened drastically, causing your head to spin toward the voice. Well, shit. It was Rick Grimes himself. This time his helmet wasn’t on and he seemed to have abandoned his uniform. He was instead dressed in jeans and that black tee that always hugged his muscles so perfectly–

“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice boomed in your ears as he knelt down to your level, and you shivered.

You wheezed and resumed your pursuit of getting your ass off the wretched ground, to which you failed. Rick noticed the cuts and bruises decorating your injured body and his face softened. He sighed, gathering your belongings, and then in one swift motion he lifted you up off your feet, holding you bridal-style. You bit your lip to stop the tears forming in your eyes; your plan backfired, you got caught, and now everything was out of your control. You felt so stupid and useless.

Rick shifted around with you in his arms, taking one last glance at your injured figure. “Oh, honey. Let’s get ya cleaned up now.”

He had carried you all the way to his room without any hindrances, and the whole time you honestly thought about kicking out of his tight grasp, nailing him where the sun doesn't shine, and booking it out of there. But the way his strong arms cradled you made you melt into him.

Rick lay you onto his large – well, larger than your own – neatly made bed and pulled your shoes and socks off. Before he could reach your pant zipper to pull them down and examine your knee, you slapped his hand away, scowling at him.

“I can do it,” you promised, although of course your trembling hands reaching for the zipper illustrated a paradoxical story.

Not to mention, the stained blood and soreness reminded you that you needed to ease up on any further use of them. It felt like carpal tunnel. Damn, that concrete did some numbers on you. Your exasperated grunts caught Rick’s attention and he ignored your misleading comment, zipping your pants down and peeling them off himself. The look you gave him could have been detected as either annoyed or demoralized. Either way, your body was weary and your mind still raced with unrelenting thoughts.

Rick brought back a wet cloth and a first aid kit he kept under his sink. Gingerly, he brushed the cloth over your battered hands and then bandaged them up. You let out a few pained huffs while he went to work on your scraped hands and busted knee with his doctor abilities. When finished, his eyes scanned your body, being certain he didn’t miss any other wounds or minor cuts.

You, however, were busy ogling him; his beautifully sculpted figure that was outlined by the black t-shirt he wore, and the scruff that layered his defined jaw, and the way his pink lips pursed as his rough hand prodded your exposed flesh – it sent you into a trance.

He adjusted his gaze back to your face, and you snapped out of your trance promptly, painting that stern cast back on your expressive face. You recalled why you were irritated with him in the first place – he prevented you from escaping.

“Y’alright now? Gonna tell me why you were scurrying around past midnight with this bag on you?”

Your hard stare didn’t falter. He tsked at you and grabbed the backpack off the ground, unzipping it, and dumping its contents onto the bed. When he recognized the gun to be one from the armory, it was his turn to scowl at you.

“You better start talking before I get angry, sweetheart.” His body flexed as he folded his arms across his chest, eyes cornering you and making you feel small.

“I was–” you cleared your throat and sat up with your hands on your bare thighs, “I was going to escape, Rick. I… I need to see him…”

Rick lowered his head to the floor in disappointment, rubbing the bridge of his nose while his other arm rested on his hip. He paced the room. “You knew this was going to happen. We even planned it together, for fuck’s sake!” You pleaded with him, emotion spilling from your lips. You stared at his back, watching the way his muscles tensed. “I have a child I haven’t seen in years and I–”

“Yeah, so do I!” He interrupted, “But that life is over, there is no more escape plan pipe dream. Don’t you get it?!”

His pacing ceased, and he waited for your focus to meet him. When it did, he inched toward you daringly, almost wanting you to test his patience.

“I got you that ranking because I trusted you and expected you to be cooperative with me in this mission. I was planning on trying to convince Beale to let you visit your boy but that won’t be for a while. I need your trust in this,” Rick’s footsteps approached the bed, his towering figure intimidating you. “Do you understand? Look at me—” his rough hand pinched the sides of your chin to tilt your head up at him.

Your lips cracked open to speak but truthfully nothing could be said in that moment. The tension in the air was heavy and laced with despondency. You choked trying to enunciate words as you felt your shoulders drop, and your heart chugging on. Soon you gathered yourself from breaking down in front of him, masking the persistent commotion going on inside the walls of your skull, and the unabated sense of dread pouring over your body. You nodded your head in compliance and Rick released your chin.

This was a confirmation that Rick was never going to let you get away. And if he did end up finding a way for you to see your boy, living under an unlawful and controlling military organization was not something you stood for. With or without Rick, you needed to escape with your son, using any proper chance that swung your way. But if it was going to be without Rick, you needed to be secretive.

You batted your eyes at him, aiming to give him a reason to believe that you were officially yielding to him. The way you looked under him, all battered and desperate, made a spark ignite in his brain. You belonged in this position – underneath him, following his lead, and obeying his orders. He was going to need to show you how insistent he really was.

Your attention remained undivided. Rick stepped backwards a foot and took in the sight of you – your whole body and the way your thighs begged to be kissed and touched.

“I’m assuming you saw the note I left you, right?” His tone dripping with vehemence and his southern drawl rasping, relaying a yearning to your eager core, which you attempted to ease by clenching your thighs. He certainly did not miss that.

“So you were planning on not only ignoring my note, but being reckless and trying to leave this post and then, what? Risk getting caught and dying and never getting to see your son ever? You need to get your head on right, and I’m telling you this from experience, because it’s never going to work out the way you want it to, no matter how perfectly you think your plan will go.”

You gulped and studied your hands, which were thankfully stinging much less. You fiddled with the bandage, until Rick demanded your attention with his authoritative tone.

“This is the last time I’m gonna ask you to cooperate with me. Keep that in mind,” he warned.

Your front teeth bit into your pouty bottom lip as you struggled to make yourself look uncritical of his “plan.” Rick’s eyes targeted your every move as you, this time successfully, propped yourself up and off the bed, bending down to grab your pants which were sprawled out next to your feet.

💋

“What were you gonna talk to me about, y’know….if I ended up showing up earlier?” You flipped the pant legs so that they were no longer inside out.

“I was gonna do this—” Your heart quickened as he neared you rapidly, his arms finding themselves exploring your body and causing goosebumps to multiply across your vulnerable skin. He dexterously greeted his lips to yours, catching you by surprise. The man was quick with it.

You melted into the kiss while his hands continued to trace your curves, eliciting longing whimpers from your throat. You craved his touch.

Breaking away from the kiss, the Sergeant gave you no time to protest, spinning you around so that your back was facing him. Taking your jaw prisoner in the tight clutch of his hand, his hot breath fanned against your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck come alive. “Originally I was going to fuck you gently, make you relax from your big day—” His hand slid to the middle of your back and he forcefully bent you over on the bed, scoring a small grunt from you. He took your pulled back hair into his hand and with a tantalizing tug of it, he pushed his clothed hips against your bare ass. “But now I’m not gonna be so easy on you, because you decided to go and put yourself in danger. Well, I’m gonna have to punish you instead of reporting you, hm? For your own sake…”

Your heat practically leaked through your panties and down the inner part of your thighs. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you loved when he was rough with you. It stirred you up with the perfect concoction of salaciousness and angst.

Still, your alacrity temporarily repressed your aroused state and you barked back at him, “All I want is to see my son…you have no goddamn right to take that from me, Rick,” you cried, with your trembling hands supporting your upper body as he gripped your hips.

Rick delivered a firm slap to your ass cheek, then promptly straightened you up and turned you around to meet his sifting stare. You gulped, feeling submissive under his touch. You watched the way he contorted his face in vexation and you abruptly felt overpowered by him.

“In case you’ve forgotten you are under my command, and if you disobey me I have every right to correct you where I see fit,” he eyed your pout, huffing, “and I fucking told you already – you have to be patient, it’s gonna take a while.”

The hope you had was dwindling slowly, even though you really wanted to trust him. It almost felt like putting your full trust in him was equivalent to playing with fire. You couldn’t tell the difference between the two anymore. But ultimately Rick was right, you were under his command and the very least you could do at this moment was take his word.

His leer intensified. “Get on your knees.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and felt the command jolt through your body with a cogent nudge. You conformed to his request and scrunched your face in slight discomfort from your bruised knee making contact with the floor, but it was still tolerable. With urgency he unbuckled his belt and wasted no time in freeing his thick, throbbing length. The sight of his cock was not something foreign, as you’d slept with him many times; but the way he was so much more ambitious in getting his cock inside your mouth and feeling you gag around him, made you squirm.

The restless man bucked his hips forward, enjoying the way your soft pouty lips hugged his shaft so magnificently. You moaned softly, the vibration inciting a groan from Rick as he grabbed at your hair. “Gotta do more than tha’. I know you know how to be a good slut f’me.”

You took his whole length in your throat, feeling spit drip down your chin as you choked. You started to bob your head back and forth, becoming accustomed to the size of his dick and how it collided with the back of your throat incessantly. He took it upon himself to grasp your head and guide you up and down as his hips pushed against your needy mouth. Your tongue traced the veins that protruded across his length, as your head quickened its pace. His grunts echoed in your ears and you prepared for his sweet release when you apperceived the twitch of his cock against your tongue.

“Fuck, yes…good slut,” Rick sung out as he thrusted thrice more, shooting his thick warm seed down your throat and riding out the remainder of his orgasm. He pulled out and stared intently at your lips licking up the remnants of his juices while panting. His hand patted your head in approval.

“You think you deserve to cum tonight?” He taunted, his hold on your hair taut.

You didn’t respond, but instead observed the way his muscles flexed when he lifted his shirt off his back, and how he flattened his hair back with the palm of his hand. You were getting wetter by the second, shifting your thighs in anticipation.

You stood up, tracing your hand over his bicep and fluttering your lashes at him enticingly. He smirked, recognizing that look to be your calling for him to fuck your brains out. Your hands reached down to lift your own shirt off, but he swatted them away in protest, throwing the shirt across the room hastily. All you desired was for him to make love to you, to comfort you and promise you that everything was going to work out, and frankly your sore muscles from training could use as much appreciation as they could obtain. But love-making wasn’t on the agenda for tonight.

Rick flopped you onto the bed, and effortlessly your panties were torn off and thrown next to your shirt. He kneaded your tits with his hand then bent over top of you to hungrily kiss your lips. Your fidgety hands stretched up to tussle through his hair but he broke from the kiss to pin both your hands above your head, rousing a dissatisfied whimper from you. The carnal man bent down diligently to grab his belt and release your hands for a moment, before grabbing your wrists and securing the belt around them.

Bondage wasn’t necessarily unfamiliar to you but you had never expected Rick to ever want to partake in it with you. Nonetheless, your core ached further for his touch. His hand went back to pinching your sensitive nipples, while keeping his ferocious eyes locked onto yours, and lowering his head down to your throbbing heat. The lewd mewls escaping your parted lips sent Rick into a frenzy. You bucked your hips up in an attempt to get him to do something, to give your desperate parts the treatment you longed for, except he just remained concentrated on the way you jerked and crumbled beneath him – he wasn’t even touching you anymore, and yet he had you folding already. How pathetic you looked.

“Rick, please do something!” Your pleas left him unphased. The only thought in his mind at that moment was how rough he was eventually going to fuck you.

Finally, his finger swiped up your soaking folds and came into contact with your swollen clit, giving it a soft pinch, stimulating a ribald whimper from you and inducing your back to arch off the bed. “What d’you want, sweetheart?” His husky tone intimidated you.

“Need you, please. ‘M lonely,” You sniffed, overworked from all the teasing. He cooed in a mocking manner, and with two fingers he plunged into you, sending you into the clouds.

“This sweet pussy needs attention, dun’it?” He curled his fingers upward, activating that sweet spot inside your squelching sex. With his thumb he circled around your sensitive bud, accelerating the speed of his thick fingers inside your tight, wet hole. Bliss clouded over you, and your head lulled to the side.

Rick hissed, dissenting your lack of eye contact. He yanked his fingers out all the way, giving a slight tap to your voracious cunt.

“Nuh-uh, eyes on me.” The glazed-over look you gave him was enough for him to give in and slide his digits back into your heat, this time being merciless by the way he finger fucked you with racking momentum.

Your walls clenched rhythmically around his fingers, legs syncing with the rhythm of your swirling hips. Rick sensed your orgasm approaching – he ascertained that you didn't get to reach its peak by ceasing his thumb's labor and plucking his drenched digits out of your weeping center.

Your sensual clamors didn't go unnoticed; instead he hushed you, and bringing his mouth near your ear he rasped, "I decided that you don't get to cum yet. Not till I feel like it."

Rick really loved tossing you around, especially tonight. He arose, untying the belt around your wrists – almost as if he was showing mercy, but that thought was surpassed as he effortlessly flipped you around so your bandaged hands were gripping desperately onto the sheets, as if that'd prevent you from losing your grip on reality from what was about to go down.

Your begging hole cried for his further attention, causing you to become more agitated by the second. That is, until you felt his hard cock slap against your ass cheek, and his hips striking the back of your shaking thighs. The grumpy commander pressed his leather-sling gloved fist slightly against your upper neck, just enough pressure to ensure you stayed where he wanted you. You didn't plan on leaving, though – not until he fucked you to your heart's content.

He could take a picture right now, the way your ass pushed against his solid member so hysterically, as if your pussy lived to be stuffed by his cock. In that moment, it did. Rick grabbed his cock and lined it up with your welcoming entrance, collecting the condensation on his tip.

"God, just fuck me–"

One rigid thrust was all it took for you to fully engulf him. Your eyes rolled to the ceiling, stars eclipsing your vision while his thrust followed another one, this time much deeper.

Your whines bounced off the pale room's walls, alerting Rick, who hushed you with a growl, "Shutch'er mouth, the whole building's gonna hear ya."

A third thrust ensued, with the sound of his pelvic bone smacking against your backside and the echoing of your sodden cunt being governed by his greedy shaft. The wet squishy insides of your walls hugged Rick so magnetically, he almost gave in right there.

His pace picked up with each ram of his hips, and his assault to your clit. Your grip on the sheets tightened, bandages likely slipping off but that wasn't a concern. Shy whimpers were trapped inside your mouth as you gave it your all at keeping your lewd blubbers and cusses at bay. Your soft, muffled cries continued as he pounded into you strenuously and tirelessly.

"You're not gonna try to leave again, not ever." The thumping of his hips on your ass and him fucking you into the mattress was all too much for your brain. "I won't fucking let you."

You felt fuzzy. The dauntless rebel attitude you once had vanished, and now your were a blubbering hot mess under a relentless leader. His bulging biceps flexed as his leather arm continued pushing on your neck, the other hand groping your hip and then going back to flicking your clit as his cock rutted into your core. He fit you like a puzzle piece.

Your walls were pulsating and you sensed your climax approaching quickly. "Oh, fuck, Rick!"

"Don't you even think about it. So help me god, if you do..."

Rick's demands only filled you closer to the brim with pleasure, and you weren't assured how much longer you could hold it. His thrusts became sloppier and sloppier, indicating that he was probably close too.

"Mmmph–" You focused on grasping desperately at the sheets again, trying to fixate on the way the soft fabric felt against your hands and your face which was pushed into the bed.

Rick groaned out, whispering filthy affirmations as his pounding became more jagged and his grunts more urgent. "Wanna fill ya up, but you don'need another baby, not yet."

One last press against your clit and the band finally snapped, your juices releasing all over his cock, and his orgasm causing him to grasp your hips roughly as he used your dripping hole to help him ride out his own orgasm. He pulled out, releasing onto your back with a few strokes of his slippery member.

The bottom half of your body gave in finally, collapsing and being suffocated by the plush mattress. Your eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open. He truly fucked the energy out of you.

"You gonna try that shit again with me?"

With half-lidded eyes you simpered and muttered, "Not without you."

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tocomplainfriend · 10 months ago

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VIV is constantly criticized by her own fault.

TW: Mention of: SA, Rape, Transphobia, fat phobia, Antiblackness.

(Hey, i'mma probably do a post eventually about episode 4. Btw, awfully shit, worse than I thought it could be... BIG TW OF R-PE AND SA IF YOU'RE GOING TO SEE IT. AND TW of the minimization of those topics too.)

(SORRY FOR BAD ENGLISH IN THIS POST TOO)

BUT I NEED TO CALL ATTENTION TO THIS! One of the reasons I criticize a lot of Viv specifically is because of how much she puts herself out there. She sees something she posts on Twitter about it a shit ton (even on "threads" lol). AND because of how lacking of improvement she has being. (I personally know people I have considered terrible when we were teens, but I have seen legit improvement from them in recent years. They seem like people who struggle, but got to grow up and made up for any problems (or pain caused to me or others). People have the ability to change and become better. Something that matters at pointing out issues or discussing-is the idea of creating change on others. It is better to get someone to change for the better than to cast them into the forever jail of nothingness (unless, IDK, they Sexually Assaulted someone, for example). Specially when they are young people. Doesn't mean YOU have to stick with other people that hurt you, no. Doesn't mean people get to do what ever and get away with it.

BUT All of this problem I have seen from Viv are from age 19-30. (you can change at anytime btw) And see constantly repeats herself and her actions. Seems to have never accepted criticism (said by herself too), and never able to see her own faults. The fact that is a continuous behavior is a problem, how she always responds is awful. My post of "Viv has being transphobic for 10 years", was to signal that. If she really had changed over those 10 years to a genuine thing- I could've taken that! But no, the shitty double standard against trans men... the weird treatment. THE MANY STORIES OF EMPLOYEES GETTING MISGENDERED HEAVILY, TOO.

(I know people who were transphobic [When they were teens mainly], that Genuinely improved and changed their beliefs. Now they treat trans people with respect and care! And still learning about gender-fluid people, too!)

It just seems to be further and further away from getting better! The fact that she only decides to take in account voices from SA victims that agree with her- it's painful as a victim, my self!

And yes, people who sent gore or dumbass shit to Viv (or the team) don't help. And go get help why you're looking and sending Gore to anyone. (Also, stuff like this does lead to people not listening to others people genuine callouts). The fact that I criticize something doesn't mean I agree with the people that go and do shit like the thing I just mention above.

AND ALSO A IMPORTANT THING HERE!

This drawing was created by DollCreep. BUT ALSO FUCKING REMEMBER this was done in response to the shit that Viv drew of him.

If you didn't know Viv drew a transphobic caricature of DollCreep using the name Jojo (his old nickname). This put together with a shitty anti-sjw meme video. DollCreep is a transman, Viv drew a character based on him. A furry wolf girl, If you can see in the image the main thing listed below the character name is the fucking "Sex=♀️". SO ON PURPOSE, CHRIST. Like... AND YES-is shitty from both to have drawn this (even if it was in respond) mainly immature in DC part. But that, or any toxicity coming from DC, doesn't delete the transphobia here. (imagine drawing a racist caricature of a poc person, because they are shitty to you). THE POST LINKED ABOVE SHOWS THE SITUATION, and in the end of the day. Viv says that DC is an abusive shitty person to her, but never realizing her own faults or anything she could'be possibly done wrong! (and again, any wrong done by DC in general can not be deleted by the fact of having being treated badly. If he did shitty stuff himself, that doesn't delete the wrong done in general to him or to others by viv)

Here about transphobia:

(this is like 8yrs old too)

Again, she never acknowledges anything that she might have done wrong. "She is a thoughtful person, that wants tor write queer and disabled characters! She wants to tell empowering stories of..." It doesn't even feel close to that when people bring up actual problems in her writing that are stereotyping or bad, and she just yells and cries. It all feels like empty sticks she is only interested in in the surface level, she doesn't want to actually deal with.

When she says "This characters is black guys ♡♡♡" and then the fucking 7th, a grayish character with zero black features. She can not actually try and draw a black person with a different hair texture, she'll faith is hair isn't straight and spiky (has done this so much too). She is all for positivity and diversity (can not draw more than 1 character that isn't a fucking stick with the same stupid face).

She can not write relationships in general. She cannot do gay couples, then don't lean on the stupid old uke uwu defenceless x big rough seme protector stuff. Again, all the interactions with Husk and Angel are sexual harassment. They are already a revealed future couple (and episode 4 is terrible for them, specially with that song). Stolitz is toxic, and predatory. That is not acknowledged, and all Stolas's predatory behavior and power dynamics are put in the background, cause- "look how sad Stolas is :(! HIS DAD IS SOOO MEAN, HIS WIFE IS A BITCH". All her gay characters are in pure surface: over-sexual twinks that are assholes, which also fit into the top/bottom as personality boxes.

Any other point includes sexual harassment as a joke. BUT KNOW SHE WANTS TO BE LIKE "GUYS SA STORIES MATTER, LOOK AT WHAT I WROTE" as if she didn't lean back into the problem of the diminishing of SA and r- (in general and done to men) with her jokes in HB. With all the sexual harassment that Angel Dust puts on Husk and others. (AND YES THERE IS NO WARNING IN EPISODE 4, FOR ITS HEAVY TOPICS! I do believe all series/movies with this need it. SPECIALLY IF IT'S SO GRAPHIC! "Sexual content" is not the same as a warning for SA or R-pe. An adult can see a movie with sex or sexual nutidy- when they see that- but it's different to get straight assault on screen. Victims can watch movies/series with sex in them all good, you cannot just group consensual sex in the same assault or R-pe...)

The thing where Mammon (the only fat character that isn’t from the fucking background.) is like FIZZ YOU NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT. AS IF SHE COULD EVEN DRAW ANY DIFFERENT BODY SHAPE WITHOUT DYING. Like there is only Mimzy (hasn't appeared yet, not given any importance. In the female lead show). Mammon the piece of shit (does the same as Blitz, but he is actually fully bad.) His design is done with 80 fucking layers on top. Like all the test of the skinny character's clothes suck up to their body except for Mammon. His body is hidden in layers upon layers of clothing (that's all you got?). All you main guys need to fill "the skinny have nothing men" and "skinny woman with big hips and legs, but no fucking stomach"?

AND YES! VIV DOES DO THE FUCKING, "FAT = FOOD LMAOOO". You know the thing HH fans and hater where like the "Bee needs to fat thing is bad, cause of fat = food (only food) is reductive and shitty"

(Can I refer to how the show Bojack H, make Diane gain weight cause of anti depressants- and it wasn't a joke! And she was happier too?)

(mine, from post right below)

... like is a bundle of issues. And Viv will never accept that she might be /or is wrong. That's why it hits the fan with stuff. -And again I liked many of the little concepts and stuff in HB and the original pilot of Hazbin. Shit- I still like Sir Pentious and Nifty. I do like Mammon as much as he is a pack of problems to call out, I fucking love the piece of shit Australian jester- The artist work hard on it, and I'm happy it's an openly queer! (as limited as it gets, too....). I liked Huni-cast, I loved the original voice cast! -and that happens! I could be writing this about other stuff too, not only Hazbin... if I created this blog earlier- IT WOULD ALL BE ABOUT RWBY, DANGANRONPA, even svtfoe...Ladybug... or Agretsuko's ending too. So yeah, sorry for the long post (as if all my post weren't)

#vivziepop critique #vivziepop critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #anti vivziepop #long post #tw rape #tw sa #tw transphobes #tw transfobia #tw fatphobia #tw antiblackness

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gojoulen03 · 1 year ago

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╔═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰��══✲⋅*,∴°═══╗

"MY DAUGHTER, THE DIVINE ONE"

╚═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╝

A/N:

I'm saying this rn but this.. this blog is a literal mess. It's my first time posting this kinda uh.. yup. So I'm a little annoyed by it but I'm bored so I went through.. uh with it anyway..

I had an alternate version of this in Wattpad called 'Rose Thorns' lol. I'm still thinking of who will be the love interest for Y/n because this sht is similar to the usual SAGAU plot idk if I'm right though (correct me if I'm wrong lol).

Again, this is a mess. Idk if I posted this correctly.. but I tried anyway..

Sypnosis :

You are Tsukuyomi Y/n with a lovely daughter named Yuna. You've always dreamed of becoming a mother and decided to have one through artificial method (lol idk if that's real yet but I remembered a manga with that Soo YUp AND THIS IS FICTION so I had the power of making the impossible real here in this story LOL and yes you are rich in Earth cuz i said so ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)). You paid someone handsomely to give you the means to have a child without any sort of y'know lol- and finally had Yuna after so long of waiting.

You are deeply devoted to Yuna's well-being and promised to protect her no matter what.

But tragedy struck when you got involved in a car accident that claimed your life, leaving your daughter Yuna without her only guardian. Your own death left you feeling desolate and remorseful for not being able to watch your 5-year-old daughter grow up.

However, your journey took an unexpected turn when you found yourelf in a mysterious and unfamiliar world. You retained only hazy memories of your past life but resolved to forge ahead. Even in this strange new world, you couldn't let go of your fervent prayers for Yuna's safety.

You went on a journey in this new world called Teyvat. But what if your daughter follows you there - all grown up, so mature and with so many mysteries?

GENSHIN IMPACT X G/N! Reader

Warnings: Grammatical Errors, Lazy Writing, Possibly alot of errors again lol, MANY TYPOS idK, VERY OOC (I'mma not lie here), Y/n being the Cupid LATER lol, Yandere!Harem??? Obsessive Acolytes/Believers to the Divine One, MANY SIMPINGS ˛(ˊʙˋ)੭˒˒

CHAPTER 00

In the supposedly peaceful and beautiful world - Y/n, a beautiful God(dess) in a white robe and veil, had been engaged in a fierce battle to protect your city from marauding Gods. Your barrier stood resolute, deflecting attacks and safeguarding your people, but the more you fought, the more you felt your energy wane.

"Your majesty! Please, it's enough!" A voice was heard from behind. But despite the pleas of your beloved subjects to cease the battle, You remained unyielding, your bowstring singing as you sent arrow after arrow towards your foes. The Archon War had erupted unexpectedly, shattering the harmony among divine beings who were once friends. You couldn't comprehend why you were now locked in a merciless struggle for your nations' survival.

"You must be getting tired. How about resting now?" taunted by your enemy God, reveling in your weakening state. Undeterred, You glared back, refusing to back down. Your resolve was unbreakable; You were determined to defend your land until your very last breath.

"I will not! I will never back down until my last breath!" You yelled.

"Let's see about that, Goddess Y/n!" They said, as they were ready to launched another attack.

But just as you braced yourself for another attack, a familiar voice broke through the haze of battle.

"Ma/Pa.."

"Ma/Pa.. ma/pa.."

"Mama/Papa!!"

Startled, You gasped, your battle-weary eyes fluttering open. You found yourself in a small, warm room, and your attention was drawn to a tiny, innocent face—the face of your adorable daughter, Yuna.

"Mama/Papa! You're awake, right?!" Yuna's tiny hands shook you, urging you back to consciousness.

"Mama/Papa, it's time to wake up!" You blinked, the memories of your celestial battle fading into the background as you're fully awake now.

"Oh, Mama/Papa's awake now, dear Yuna," you whispered, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as you lifted your daughter into your arms.

Yuna's innocent eyes widened with concern. "Mama/Papa, you were making scared noises in your sleep. Did you have a bad dream?"

You smiled, brushing a gentle hand over Yuna's cheek. "It was just a bad dream, my love. Mama/Papa's fine now." You marveled at the contrast between the dream's fierce goddess persona and the reality of your role as a loving parent. How could such a powerful being in your dream world be the same person who cuddled with your daughter each morning?

"Let's focus on happier things," You suggested, ruffling Yuna's hair playfully.

"Hehe, okay! Let's eat breakfast now, Mama/Papa! I'm hungry!" Yuna's enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your daughter's radiant joy. You dismissed the surreal images of your divine battle as a dream or perhaps the result of watching too many fantasy movies recently.

"What would you like to eat today, my little sunshine?" You asked.

Yuna's face lit up with excitement. "Pancakes, Mama/Papa! With strawberries!"

You chuckled, the remnants of the dream slipping further away with each giggle. "Pancakes it is, sweetheart. Let's make them together."

With a tender smile, You kissed Yuna's forehead. "And also good morning, my precious. I love you."

Yuna giggled, her laughter echoing through the room like music. "I love you too, Mama/Papa!"

Together, you both ventured into the kitchen, the aroma of pancakes filling the air as you expertly flipped them on the griddle. Yuna stood on a chair, her eyes wide with fascination as she watched her parent cook.

What had seemed like a fierce, otherworldly struggle faded into the background as you dismissed it as a fleeting nightmare. Perhaps it was the result of watching too many fantasy movies, you thought, trying to rationalize the vivid dream.

"Yeah, it must be a dream," You reassured yourself, embracing the reality of your daughter's laughter and the aroma of breakfast wafting from the kitchen.

"Mama/Papa, are you a superhero?" Yuna asked suddenly, her innocent curiosity sparking a twinkle in her eyes.

You paused, caught off guard by the question. You knelt down to Yuna's eye level, your expression tender. "Well, I might not be a superhero, but I'll always protect you, my dear. You mean everything to me."

Yuna beamed, her small hand reaching out to grasp yours. "I love you, Mama/Papa!"

"I love you too, my precious Yuna," You whispered, your heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.

You prepared a hearty meal for yourself and for your precious daughter, Yuna, savoring the simple pleasures of your shared moments. As you both sat down to eat, Yuna's innocent chatter filled the room, momentarily pushing away the lingering thoughts of that dream you had earlier.

"Mama/Papa, what's your favorite story?" Yuna asked between bites of the pancakes.

You smiled, reminiscing about the stories you used to hear as a child. "My favorite story is about a brave god(dess) who protected their people from all the dangers of the world. They were strong, just like me, and they never gave up, no matter how tough things got."

Yuna's eyes widened with admiration. "Wow, Mama/Papa, you're like that god(dess), right?"

You chuckled, ruffling Yuna's hair affectionately. "I try to be, sweetheart. I'll always protect you and keep you safe, no matter what."

You only wished the best for your daughter.

That's all you need..

Those dreams probably meant nothing, right?

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, with You and Yuna sharing your lives in blissful harmony. You had put the strange dreams behind you, attributing them to a mere figment of your imagination, yet the memories of your battles as a god(dess) lingered, casting a subtle shadow over your peaceful existence.

It also arose so many questions..

Why do you have that dream?

What does it mean?

Is it a past life?

Why are you remembering it?

You're already happy with youe daughter. You don't want to be burden with a problem you don't even know about.

That was all just a dream anyways..

But one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you found herself lost in thought on the porch of their cozy home. Yuna, now a bit older but just as radiant, skipped over, her eyes filled with curiosity.

"Mama/Papa, why do you sometimes look so sad?" Yuna asked, her voice tinged with concern.

You smiled gently, your fingers tracing the patterns of the wooden porch. "Oh, my sweet Yuna, it's just Mama/Papa's thoughts wandering. Sometimes, grown-ups think about many things at once."

"But you can tell me, Mama. I'm a big girl now!" Yuna insisted, her determination mirroring her parent's.

You sighed, realizing that your daughter was growing up and deserved to know the truth, or at least part of it. "Alright, my love. Mama/Papa had some strange dreams lately, dreams of battles and wars. It felt like I was someone else, someone powerful but burdened by the weight of protecting others."

Yuna's eyes widened in awe. "Like a superhero?"

You nodded, a bittersweet smile playing on your lips. "Yes, something like that. But these dreams were so vivid, as if they were memories from another life. It's all very confusing, Yuna."

Yuna reached out and held her parent's hand, her grip surprisingly strong for a child her age. "Mama/Papa, I think those dreams are trying to tell you something. Maybe you're meant to do something important."

You looked at your daughter, marveling at the wisdom hidden behind those innocent eyes. "You're right, Yuna. Perhaps there's a reason I'm having these dreams. I just wish I knew what it meant."

You couldn't help but hug your daughter. Just how caring and smart is this girl? This daughter of yours is too perfect to be yours. She's far too wise..

Even you can't come out with such an advice. But your 5 years old daughter could.

"You're so mature, aren't you, my love?" You said, as you kisses your daughter's chubby cheek who giggled in return. "Hehe! Because I am a big girl!"

"Yes, you are a big girl, love."

Though you couldn't exactly shake the feeling of being a powerful god(dess) in that otherworldly battle, your memories of an archon war still vivid, despite the comforting reality of your daughter's presence.

"Mama/Papa, can I ask you something?" Yuna's innocent voice interrupted your thoughts.

"Of course, my sweet," You replied, setting your daughter to your side to give your full attention to your daughter.

Yuna looked up at you with those big, curious eyes. "What were you fighting in your dream, mama/papa? Were you super strong?"

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain the complexities of your dream world to a 5-year-old. "Well, it was just a dream, dear. In the dream, Mama/Papa had to protect something very important, just like how I always protect you."

Yuna nodded thoughtfully. "Like a superhero, right?"

You smiled, relieved at the simplicity of Yuna's understanding. "Yes, like a superhero."

"Cool! I wanna be a superhero too!"

"Study first-"

"But mama/papa!!"

"Just kidding~!"

But as the day went on, you couldn't shake the feeling that your dream held a deeper significance. The memories of the archon war and the title of "God(dess) Y/n" haunted your thoughts, refusing to be dismissed as mere fantasy.

That night, after tucking Yuna into bed and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, you found herself unable to sleep. You decided to indulge your curiosity and did something you hadn't done in a long time-you opened your laptop and began searching for information about archons and the concept of divine beings.

But you found no information about all the things you remembers in your dream.

Is it just.. a dream?

Lost in thought, you murmured, "God(dess) Y/n... Archon War... it all feels so distant yet so real."

Yuna, ever perceptive, approached her parent out of nowhere, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Mama/Papa, is something bothering you?"

"Ahh!" You almost fell down your chair when you saw your daughter standing next to you. Gosh! She's scary sometimes!

"Gosh, you scared Mama/Papa, love." You said, as you sighed in relieved that it was only your daughter. Yuna shrugged her shoulder before climbing into your lap and sitting comfortably.

"Why aren't you sleeping, baby? Didn't Mama/Papa tucked you in already?"

"Can't sleep yet.." She respond, as she hugged her doll tighter before looking back to you.

"So.. what's bothering you, Mama/Papa?" She asked curiously.

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for your sweet daughter's concern. "It's nothing, sweetheart. Just an old dream Mama had like i told you before-"

But as you spoke, a sudden jolt surged through you, a flash of memories and emotions that felt too vivid to be merely a dream. You saw yourself clad in divine armor, battling against other gods. Faces once blurred became clear in your mind's eye.

"The Archon War.." You whispered, the words heavy with realization. "It's like.. a reality.. I'm not sure.. but I felt like I've known about it like a long time ago.."

Yuna's eyes widened with wonder. "Mama/Papa, what's an Archon war??"

You shake your head, your mind racing to comprehend the implications of your rediscovered identity. "I don't know, sweetie.. but there was a war. But why? Why were we fighting? Why was i fighting? What am I protecting..?" You questioned, confusing the little girl even more.

"Ehh.. really, Mama/Papa? Maybe you died and got reincarnated? I saw a movie about that!" Yuna explained.

"Reincarnated? Wait- how did you know that big word?" You asked. Yuna giggled as she snuggled into her doll. "Hehe! I heard it from watching marvel!"

"Right.. Hawkman.."

"Hehe! I like Ironman and Hawkman!" Yuna said excitedly, as she raised her doll up like it was flying.

You sighed. "Maybe I made her watch so many movies.."

Still.. how can this be?

Why are you remembering all this memories now?

You already have a life with your daughter..

Why now?

As you navigated the bustling city streets, your thoughts were consumed by the anticipation of seeing Yuna's face light up with joy upon receiving the special treats you had bought today. The aroma of fresh donuts filled the car, tempting your senses as you carefully maneuvered through the traffic.

Your dedication to your daughter, Yuna, was unwavering. You juggled a demanding career as a high-profile fashion designer for a prestigious modeling company while ensuring that your daughter's upbringing was filled with love, happiness, and positive role models. Your decision to distance yourself from your previously abusive and greedy household was a testament to your commitment to providing Yuna with a safe and nurturing environment.

As you drove home, the box of delectable donuts sat securely on the passenger seat, tempting your senses with their sweet aroma. You couldn't help but smile, thinking about the joy these treats would bring to your little girl.

"I bet my baby would like the donuts I bought today," You mused aloud, your excitement palpable. "It's definitely the best ones I've tasted! I'm sure she'll like them."

With each turn of the wheel, your anticipation grew. The thought of Yuna's radiant smile and the delighted squeals of a child about to receive a cherished surprise filled your heart with warmth. There was nothing you wouldn't do to ensure Yuna's happiness and well-being.

She is your precious girl after all.

Who wouldn't want the best for their child?

"My precious baby... I so missed you, my Yuna. Mama will be spoiling you a lot this weekend for sure. Hmm... maybe I'll take her to the water park this Saturday?" Your thoughts were filled with excitement as you drove home, your anticipation growing with each passing moment.

However, in the midst of your joyful reverie, you failed to notice the fast-approaching truck until it was too late. The deafening impact sent shockwaves through your car, causing it to veer off the road and collide with the oncoming vehicle. The world around you blurred into chaos, and time seemed to slow as the accident unfolded.

Huh?

The world around you spun into chaos as the impact of the collision reverberated through your body. Glass shattered, metal twisted, and the sound of screeching brakes filled the air. Darkness enveloped you, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

When you finally regained her senses, you found yourself trapped in the wreckage of your car. Pain radiated through your body, and as you tried to move, you realized your injuries were severe. Panic welled up within you as the realization of what had just happened sunk in.

Your thoughts immediately turned to your daughter, Yuna. Fear clutched at your heart as you desperately called out to your little girl, but there was no response. Panic and anguish swirled within you as you fought against the pain and the wreckage that held you captive. I must go back to her! I still haven't given the donuts to my precious baby!

Pain shot through your body as you clung to consciousness, your first thought being of your precious Yuna. Panic continued to surged within you as you struggled to assess the situation.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you managed to unbuckle yourself and crawl out of the mangled car. Your vision was blurred, and your limbs felt heavy, but you had to go home to Yuna.

Your legs wobbled, panic turned to dread as you thought about Yuna waiting at home with the nanny, unaware of the accident. You had to get home, had to make sure your daughter was safe.

In the midst of the chaos, your thoughts were solely with Yuna. "I hope my Yuna is safe," you thought, your heart pounding with fear and concern. The seconds stretched like hours as you struggled to regain your bearings, your mind racing with worry for your daughter.

In the distance, you could hear voices shouting, the wailing of sirens approaching.

Your car's front end was crumpled, and the truck involved in the accident was equally damaged. The scene was chaotic, with concerned onlookers and emergency responders swarming around.

"M-my daughter," Y/n's voice laced with desperation. "Please, you have to help me. I need to get home to her."

The emergency responders arrived swiftly, their skilled hands working efficiently to extract you from the wreckage. All the while, your thoughts remained fixated on Yuna, your love for your daughter propelling you forward.

In the ambulance, amidst the blaring sirens and the medical team's urgent voices, you clung to consciousness. Your mind was a whirlwind of fear and determination. You couldn't let go, not when your little daughter syill needed you.

"It's gonna be okay, ma'am! Don't lose your consciousness! We're almost there!"

"We have to immediately take first aid!"

(Idk about this.. uh things so bear with it lol)

At the hospital, doctors and nurses worked tirelessly to stabilize you. Hours passed in a haze of pain and worry, but through it all, one thought persisted - your precious daughter, Yuna. You needed to be there for her, to protect her, just as you had always vowed to do.

As you lay there, pain coursing through your body, you felt a profound sense of urgency. The world around your became hazy, youe vision blurred. You knew your time was slipping away, like sand through an hourglass. The paramedics rushed to your side, their voices a distant echo in your ears.

In the midst of the chaos, you fought to find your voice, to speak your final words before surrendering to the abyss. With a tremor in your weakened voice, you whispered to yourself, aware that youe daughter, Yuna, remained oblivious to the tragedy that had befallen you.

"Yuna," you choked out, each word infused with a mixture of anguish and love. "My sweet, beloved daughter, I hope you can hear these words, even if only in your heart.."

As you felt the grip of life slipping away, you found yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. The pain and confusion consumed you, but amidst it all, you clung to your final thoughts, desperate to convey your love and remorse to your beloved daughter, Yuna.

Barely able to speak, your voice reduced to a mere whisper, your mind screamed with unspoken words. You yearned to tell Yuna how sorry you are, how deeply ashamed you felt for leaving your behind in this world, alone and unaware of the impending tragedy.

Blood pooled in your throat, choking your words and stealing your breath, but your thoughts raced with determination. With every ounce of strength you still possessed, you wished for your daughter's growth, for her to thrive in a world that you had only begun to understand.

In the midst of your pain, your love for Yuna burned brighter than ever. You wanted your daughter to know that your absence was never a choice, but a cruel twist of fate. Tears welled in your eyes, mixing with the blood that stained your lips, as you silently begged for forgiveness.

As the medical team continued to do their work on helping her, their urgent movements a blur around your fading consciousness, You held onto the image of Yuna in your mind. You whispered your final words, a desperate plea, hoping that somehow, in the vastness of the universe, your daughter would feel your love and hear your apologies.

In those fleeting moments, Your thoughts transcended the physical realm. You poured your heart and soul into a silent scream, a profound expression of love and regret that resonated in the depths of your being.

Through the pain and struggle, You fought to string together more coherent thoughts, desperate to convey your feelings, hopes, and apologies to your beloved daughter.

"My sweet Yuna, forgive me... I never wanted to leave you, my baby," you whispered in your mind, your voice quivering with a mix of love and anguish.

"I won't witness your first heartbreak... but remember, my darling, you are stronger than you know. You will rise above the pain and find love again."

"Yuna, my precious baby, don't let my absence hold you back. Embrace life's opportunities, explore the world, and chase your dreams with unwavering determination."

Her thoughts grow strained and weak, you continued, your words a fragile thread connecting you to your daughter's future. "I wanted to guide you, to be there for you... but circumstances have robbed us of that chance. You must find your own way, my love."

The tears flowed freely as your thoughts turned to the milestones you would miss. "I won't see you find your lifelong friends, those who will stand by your side through laughter and tears. But know that true friendships will enrich your life in ways I could never imagine."

"Yuna, my heart aches at the thought of not witnessing your wedding day. But when that time comes, know that I am with you in spirit, overflowing with love and pride as you embark on a new chapter of your life."

Your voice grew fainter, but your determination pushed you to utter one last plea in your head. "Promise me, my sweet Yuna, that you will live a life filled with joy, passion, and purpose. Seek happiness, embrace love, and never forget the strength within you."

As the darkness closed in, your final thoughts were consumed by your daughter's welfare. "Please, someone... protect and cherish my Yuna. Be the support and guiding light that I can no longer be. Love her as fiercely as I do."

With your strength waning, you held onto the hope that your whispered words would find their way to Yuna's heart. You longed for your daughter to know the depth of your love, the remorse you felt for leaving too soon, and the unwavering belief in Yuna's ability to navigate life's challenges.

And as your consciousness slowly faded, your final thoughts were a fervent wish for your daughter's growth, happiness, and the fulfillment of all her dreams.

"I love you, my Yuna.."

In your final moments, your thoughts were consumed by your undying love for Yuna, a love that transcended the boundaries of life and death. As your eyes fluttered closed, your last thoughts were of your daughter's smiling face, a beacon of light that guided you into the unknown.

You couldn't fight your dead..

Not again..

You failed again..

You failed protecting someone again..

And in that fleeting moment, as the world faded to darkness, you found solace in the knowledge that your love for Yuna would endure, an eternal flame that would continue to burn brightly, even in your absence.

'I'm so sorry, Yuna..'

Yuna played contentedly with her dolls, her imagination leading her on adventures only a child's mind could conjure. Her nanny and also Y/n's best friend, Kate, sat nearby, keeping a watchful eye on the little girl as she indulged in her imaginative play. Yuna was a charming but particular child, especially when it came to her food preferences. Yet, her undeniable cuteness made her nannies' hearts melt, rendering any minor inconveniences inconsequential.

Kate focused on the news broadcast playing on the television, its volume low so as not to disturb Yuna's playtime. But then, an unexpected news report abruptly seized her attention.

"A twenty-six-year-old woman/man was caught in a car accident," the news anchor announced solemnly. "The authorities have confirmed their identity. Tsukuyomi Y/n. She/He is a famous fashion designer for the Famous El Vera Company, who lives with their daughter, Tsukuyomi Yuna, in the..."

Kate's breath caught in her throat as she listened to the news report. Time seemed to stand still as the weight of the information sank in. Her eyes darted to Yuna, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, her innocent laughter filling the room.

She quickly turned off the television, not wanting Yuna to overhear the devastating news. Panic welled up within Kate as she contemplated how to handle the situation delicately. She knew she had to inform Yuna about her parent's accident, but how could she break such heart-wrenching news to a young child?

Taking a deep breath, Kate approached Yuna gently, crouching down to her eye level. She mustered a warm smile, masking the anguish she felt inside.

"Hey, sweetie," Kate began, her voice trembling ever so slightly. "I have something important to tell you about your mom/dad."

Yuna looked up, her big, innocent eyes filled with curiosity. "What is it, Nanny?"

"Well, darling, your mommy/daddy was in a car accident," Kate said softly, her heart breaking at the thought of shattering Yuna's world. "They're hurt, and they're in the hospital right now, getting the help they needs."

Tears welled up in Yuna's eyes as she clutched her doll tightly, her heart aching with a profound sense of loss. In that moment, the world seemed to crumble around her, and the reality of her mother/father's absence began to sink in.

"But... but Mama/Papa promised they'd come back, right?" Yuna choked out, her voice breaking as she struggled to hold back tears. "They said they'd bring me donuts today... they can't be... they can't..."

Kate fought back tears, mustering all the strength she had. "Yuna! I'm sure the doctors are doing everything they can to help them! But it's important for you to know that they loves you very much, and they want you to be strong and brave while they recover."

A flicker of fear crossed Yuna's face, and she clutched her doll tightly. "Can I see mommy/daddy?"

Kate's heart sank. She knew the truth had to be told, no matter how painful it was. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, but right now, your mommy/daddy needs to rest and get better. The doctors won't let visitors in. But you can send them your love and thoughts, and they'll feel them, I promise."

Tears welled up in Yuna's eyes, and she buried her face in the safety of Kate's arms. "I want my mommy/daddy, Kate. I miss her/him."

Kate enveloped Yuna in a warm embrace, her own eyes filling with tears. "I know, sweetheart. I know it's incredibly hard. Your Mama/Papa loved you very much, and they'll always be in your heart."

As Yuna clung to her, seeking comfort, Kate whispered a silent prayer for strength and guidance. She knew that the road ahead would be filled with challenges, but she was determined to be there for Yuna, to support her, and to help her navigate the difficult journey of healing and acceptance. She was only a little girl and she had lost her only parent. Isn't Y/n's family full of abusive people? Yuna will be in danger for sure..

Kate hold Yuna tightly in her arms, as she embrace the little girl and whispering comforting words to her.

'I promise to protect your daughter for you, Y/n..'

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