#because i know a good one from a good medical source

[fatphobiabusters]

Hey, I wanted to ask if you maybe have any book recs about nutrition that aren't steeped in fatphobia? my friend is trying to learn more about nutrition and change her eating habits, and i want to give her a gift

We spoke separately on this, sorry for the late reply but I can now officially recommend a book for your friends next birthday!

Gentle Nutrition: A Non-Diet Approach to Healthy Eating

Absolutely 10/10 would recommend. It's from a registered dietician, has plenty of sources!

I can't summerize or even list all the topics covered. Here's just a sample:

Introducing intuitive eating, recognizing diet culture, the thinness obsession, the types of hunger we feel, what factors actually contribute to health, diet cycling, hunger cues, why BMI is BS, how to make small changes gradually, the effects of weight stigma and stress on the body.

And so much more.

It introduces so many concepts and issues we touch on here on the blog and questions people have about health and some fat issues. (Not every single issuse but it does tackle the health based fatphobic arguments just by the process of tearing down diet culture. Even mentions medical neglect/fatphobia. Other literature is out there on the full scope of fatphobia and its harms.)

I'm particularly interested in this section. I'm delighted by graphs and then the explanations for them!

Theres so much I want to directly beam into people. My primary complaint is I wish there was MORE advice for people with body cue reading problems. There is some advice but more would be nice.

I also appreciated this:

Im someone who has good textures and bad textures (mild compared to some) but ask me which ones and I'd be stumped because I tell you dishes I like but otherwise ??? So this helps me think.

While flipping through it I keep finding more things to gush about this really is such a good starting point because it will touch on so many weight and diet culture topics.

This is disjointed because this book covers so much I want to try and encourage peopleto check it out but my brain go Brrrr from excitement. It's not perfect, nothing can be but it's just so nice to have a book I can recommend that covers both what you want and doesn't shy away from the complex web of diet culture. It tries to met a new reader where they are and I just Brrrrr. You know?

-mod squirrel

[hungerpunch]

things to pay attention to when observing a captive animal

re: lrb i figured i might as well just stick these in its own post since this is, in fact, one of the big animal video websites.

i know that most people do not have access to wild animals on the reg and i know that most people have not had continuing education about the care of captive wild animals. fwiw, neither do i! but over the years i have watched enough documentaries and read up on enough failed animal "sanctuaries" to have gathered a lot of tips. so here are some easy things anyone can keep an eye out for!

1. is the animal's enclosure relatively clean or are there signs of accumulated filth? some wear & tear is expected but you shouldn't see what looks like multiple days of shit, piss, food scraps, etc. an animal's enclosure should be cleaned every day.

2. can you see obvious access to water sources and does that water look clean? if you don't see clean-looking & full buckets, troughs, or a natural source of running water, you should question whether that animal has anything to drink.

3. is the animal left alone when it walks away or does the caretaker continue to follow and bother it? perhaps understandable if something medical needs to take place, but if it's just for "fun" or something that doesn't seem totally necessary, that's a bad sign. an animal should be free to walk away from something pestering it.

4. if outside, is there shelter from the elements? something like a run-in shed, open barn, thicket of trees, natural overhang etc. animals need sources of shade to protect themselves from sun exposure and heat.

5. can you see enrichment toys or materials? especially true for smaller zoos where animals can't roam much. you want to see evidence that there's an effort to provide mental stimulation to the animal.

6. is the animal displaying repetitive behaviors like pacing or walking in small circles? because that's bad! it could indicate anything from anxiety to psychosis.

7. if you search for pics of the animal in the wild does its body shape approximate examples you find? it should. if the animal is much thinner, it could indicate starvation. if it's much rounder, it could indicate that although it's being fed, it's not being fed an appropriate diet. (think of those captive tigers with bellies that almost touch the floor, for example)

8. is the animal entirely alone or do you see other animals with it? most animals want some form of companionship. of course some animals are kept solitary for safety reasons or maybe they're loners in the wild. but most animals benefit from social interaction with other animals.

9. if in a zoo, does the animal have a place it can retreat from the public? it should!

10. does the animal display aggressive behaviors like charging its caretakers? it could indicate the animal has been traumatized or abused in some way.

11. in good zoos, the keepers will physically handle an animal as little as possible. so if you see the animal being manhandled a lot, that's a bad sign.

if you see these signs, you can try to find mechanisms that let you report the facility to local animal welfare agencies. and you can also not engage/boost that content and instead go engage with a reputable sanctuary or conservation-forward zoo instead :)

also please keep in mind that every time a captive wild animal goes viral, the exotic pet trade booms—and it's completely despicable. wild animals should not be pets. end of. if anyone else has other tips to add, please feel free!

[incorrectquotesideas-deactivated]

Person A: Do you want a beer? I’m paying.

Person B, going through the restaurant’s menu: No. Ugh, where’s the good stuff?

Person A, half jokingly: I thought you were an alcoholic.

Person B: Exactly. I’d need at least, like, four beers — without food — to get slightly buzzed, and my stomach can’t fit over 2 beers in it. I’m small. I’ll have a rum, neat.

[gxlden-angels]

I hate going to Christian-based hospitals. There's a bible verse slide show on the screens that other places usually have medical information graphics and resources on and I just got asked "Do you have a source of peace in your life?" like babygirl I'm here for neurological pain my source of peace is Lidocaine 4% and a heating pad

[pucksandpower]

Black Widow

Toto Wolff x black widow!Reader

Summary: Lewis Hamilton and George Russell are convinced you’re trying to kill their team principal, and, to be fair, you do have a trail of seven dead extremely wealthy husbands behind you … but it’s not what they think, you promise

The soft beep of medical equipment provides a rhythmic backdrop as you sit beside the ornate mahogany bed, your manicured fingers intertwined with those of your latest husband, Reginald Worthington III.

At 89 years old, Reggie, as you affectionately call him, is by far your oldest conquest yet. His wrinkled face, now gaunt from months of illness, still manages a weak smile as he gazes at you.

“My darling,” Reggie wheezes, his voice barely above a whisper, “I hope you know how much joy you’ve brought to these final months of mine.”

You lean in, your silky hair cascading over your shoulder as you press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Oh, Reggie. The pleasure has been all mine.”

It’s not entirely a lie. While you don’t love Reggie — or any of your previous husbands, for that matter — you’ve grown fond of the old codger. He’s certainly been the most amusing of your elderly spouses.

Reggie’s eyes twinkle with mischief, a ghost of the rakish playboy he must have been in his youth. “Now, now, my dear. We both know this has been a mutually beneficial arrangement. But I do hope I’ve provided some entertainment along the way.”

You can’t help but chuckle. “You’ve been a delight, darling. Truly.”

As if on cue, Reggie is seized by a coughing fit. You quickly grab a glass of water from the bedside table, helping him take small sips until the spasms subside. When he catches his breath, he fixes you with a serious look.

“Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you. About the will.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your face carefully neutral. “Reggie, please. We don’t need to discuss such morbid topics.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. We both know why you’re here, and it’s not to admire the wallpaper. Now listen, because this is important.”

You lean in closer, curiosity piqued despite yourself.

Reggie’s voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “In addition to the usual — the houses, the cars, the offshore accounts — I’m leaving you my stake in the Mercedes Formula 1 team.”

Your eyes widen in genuine surprise. “The racing team? Reggie, I had no idea you were involved with-”

He cuts you off with a wheezy laugh. “Oh, my dear. There’s so much you don’t know about me. Did you think I made my fortune selling denture cream?”

You can’t help but smile. “Well, I did wonder about all those trophies in your study.”

“Remnants of a misspent youth,” Reggie says with a wistful sigh. “But this, this is my crowning achievement. A 33% stake in one of the most successful F1 teams in history.”

Your mind reels at the implications. This is far beyond anything you’d anticipated when you’d set your sights on Reginald Worthington III.

“Reggie, I ... I don’t know what to say.”

He pats your hand affectionately. “You don’t have to say anything, my dear. Just promise me you’ll make the most of it. I’ve always admired your ambition. It reminds me of myself at your age.”

You lean back in your chair, studying the old man before you. In that moment, you feel a surge of genuine affection for him.

“I promise, Reggie. I’ll make you proud.”

He nods, satisfied. “Good. Now, tell me about the others. I want to know how I measure up to my predecessors.”

You laugh, shaking your head in amazement. “Are you sure? It’s quite a list.”

Reggie’s eyes sparkle with interest. “My dear, I’m on my deathbed. Regale me with tales of your conquests.”

With a theatrical sigh, you begin. “Well, if you insist. Let’s see ... first, there was Harold.”

“Ah, the virgin husband,” Reggie interrupts with a knowing nod.

You raise an eyebrow. “And how did you know that?”

He winks. “I have my sources. Go on.”

“Right. Well, Harold was a sweet man. A bit naive, perhaps, but genuinely kind. He left me his tech startup. It wasn’t worth much at the time, but I sold it for a tidy sum a year later.”

Reggie nods approvingly. “Smart move. Who was next?”

“After Harold came George. He was ... intense. A retired army general with a penchant for war stories and expensive scotch. Left me his collection of rare military memorabilia.”

“Fascinating,” Reggie murmurs. “And the others?”

You tick them off on your fingers. “Let’s see ... there was Joaquin, the passionate Spanish chef. He left me his Michelin-starred restaurants. Then came Dmitri, the Russian oligarch. That was ... an experience.”

Reggie chuckles. “I bet it was. What did he leave you?”

“A series of shell companies and a rather gaudy yacht. I sold the yacht, kept the companies.” You pause, lost in thought for a moment. “After Dmitri was William, the British lord. Lovely man, terrible teeth. Left me his crumbling estate and title.”

“So you’re technically a lady now?” Reggie asks, amused.

You nod. “Lady Y/N, at your service. Though I don’t use the title much. It tends to raise questions.”

“Understandable. And the last one before me?”

Your expression softens slightly. “Ah, that was Hiroshi. Japanese tech mogul. Brilliant mind, but so lonely. I think I was the first real companionship he’d had in years.”

Reggie studies you carefully. “You were fond of him.”

You nod, a bit surprised by the lump in your throat. “I was. He ... he understood me, I think. More than the others.”

There’s a moment of silence as Reggie processes this information. Finally, he speaks. “And what did Hiroshi leave you?”

You smile wryly. “His AI research company. It’s been ... interesting, to say the least.”

Reggie nods slowly. “Quite a collection you’ve amassed, my dear. But tell me, what drives you? Surely it’s not just the money.”

You’re taken aback by the question. No one has ever asked you that before. You take a moment to gather your thoughts.

“I suppose ... it’s the challenge of it all. The thrill of reinventing myself with each new husband, of navigating these complex worlds they inhabit. And yes, the wealth is nice, but it’s more about what I can do with it.”

Reggie leans forward, intrigued. “And what is it you want to do?”

You pause, realizing you’ve never really articulated this to anyone before. “I want to make a difference. Real, lasting change. These men, they’ve all built empires in their own ways, but they’ve been limited by their own mortality. I don’t have those limitations yet. I can take what they’ve given me and create something ... more.”

Reggie’s eyes light up with understanding. “Ah, now I see why I was drawn to you. You’re not just a pretty face or a clever mind. You’re a visionary.”

You feel a flush of pride at his words. “I try to be. Each husband has taught me something new, given me tools I never had before. Harold showed me the potential of technology. George taught me strategy. Joaquin, the importance of passion in one’s work. Dmitri, how to navigate the murky waters of international business. William gave me a glimpse into old-world power structures. And Hiroshi ... well, he opened my eyes to the future.”

Reggie nods slowly. “And what have I taught you, I wonder?”

You smile softly. “Patience, Reggie. The long game. And the value of a good sense of humor in the face of adversity.”

He chuckles weakly. “Well, I’m glad I could contribute something to your education. Now, about this F1 team ...”

You lean in, eager to hear more. “Yes?”

“It’s more than just a racing team, you know. It’s a pinnacle of engineering, a testament to human ingenuity and the constant push for improvement. I think you’ll find it fits quite well with your ambitions.”

You nod slowly, mind already racing with possibilities. “I can see that. The technology, the global platform, the prestige ...”

Reggie grins. “Exactly. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find husband number eight in the paddock.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, Reggie. Always thinking ahead, aren’t you?”

He winks. “Someone has to. Now, promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” you say, and you’re surprised to find you mean it.

“When you’re accepting that championship trophy — because I know you will — wear something fabulous. Give those stuffy old men in the paddock something to talk about.”

You can’t help but grin. “Oh, don’t worry. I intend to shake things up a bit.”

Reggie nods approvingly. “That’s my girl. Now, I think I need to rest for a bit. But don’t go far. I want to hear all about your plans for world domination when I wake up.”

As you watch Reggie drift off to sleep, you can’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Sadness at the impending loss of this charming old rogue, excitement at the unexpected opportunity he’s given you, and a renewed sense of purpose.

You glance at your reflection in the ornate mirror across the room. Lady Y/N Y/L/N, soon-to-be racing magnate. It has a nice ring to it.

As you settle back into your chair, you begin to plan your next moves. The motorsport world won’t know what hit it.

***

The sleek boardroom of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 Team headquarters buzzes with hushed conversation. Around the polished mahogany table, team executives and board members huddle in small groups, their voices low and urgent.

Toto catches snippets of conversation as he reviews his notes for the meeting.

“Did you hear? She’s actually coming today,” whispers Bradley, the team’s financial officer.

Sarah, head of marketing, leans in. “I can’t believe Reginald left her his stake. What was he thinking?”

“Probably wasn’t thinking with his head, if you know what I mean,” chuckles Thomas, the technical director.

Toto clears his throat, silencing the gossip. “Let’s keep things professional, shall we? We have important matters to discuss today.”

As if on cue, the boardroom door swings open. The room falls into an immediate, almost eerie silence as you stride in, turning heads with every click of your Manolo Blahnik heels against the polished floor.

Toto finds himself holding his breath, caught off guard by your presence. He’s seen photos, of course, but they didn’t do you justice. Your tailored Armani suit exudes power and confidence, while your eyes scan the room with a shrewd intelligence that sends a shiver down his spine.

You take your seat at the far end of the table, directly opposite Toto. “Good morning, everyone. I hope I’m not late.”

Your voice, smooth as silk with a hint of amusement, breaks the spell. The room erupts into a flurry of awkward greetings and nervous coughs.

Toto clears his throat again, trying to regain control of the situation. “Not at all. We were just about to begin. Welcome, Lady Worthington. We’re honored to have you join us today.”

You smile, a dazzling display that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Please, call me Y/N. We’re all colleagues here, after all.”

Toto nods, fighting to keep his composure. “Of course, Y/N. Shall we begin with the agenda?”

As the meeting progresses, Toto finds himself increasingly distracted. He’s used to being the most commanding presence in any room, but your arrival has shifted the dynamic entirely. Every time you speak, offering insights or asking pointed questions, the rest of the board seems to hold its breath.

“I’ve been reviewing our sustainability initiatives,” you say during a lull in the conversation. “While I applaud our efforts so far, I believe we could be doing more. Formula 1 has an unique platform to drive innovation in green technologies. We should be leading the charge, not just following along.”

Bradley shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “With all due respect, Lady- I mean, Y/N, implementing new sustainability measures could be quite costly. We need to consider the bottom line.”

You lean forward, fixing Bradley with an intense gaze. “And what about the cost of falling behind? Of being seen as out of touch with the concerns of younger fans? Sometimes, you have to spend money to make money.”

Toto finds himself nodding in agreement before he even realizes it. “Y/N raises an excellent point. Perhaps we should form a task force to explore more aggressive sustainability options.”

You flash him a grateful smile, and Toto feels his heart skip a beat. He quickly looks down at his notes, trying to regain his composure.

As the meeting continues, you consistently challenge the status quo, pushing for bolder strategies and innovative approaches. Toto watches in fascination as you deftly navigate the complex dynamics of the board, alternating between charm and steel as the situation demands.

During a discussion about driver development, you interject again. “I’ve been looking into our junior driver program, and I think we’re missing opportunities. We’re too focused on traditional racing backgrounds. What about sim racers? Or scouting karters from developing countries? We could be tapping into a whole new pool of talent.”

Sarah, the marketing head, perks up at this. “That’s ... actually a brilliant idea. It could really broaden our appeal, especially in emerging markets.”

You nod appreciatively. “Exactly. And imagine the stories we could tell. The sim racer who became an F1 champion or the kid from a small village who rose to the top of motorsport. That’s the kind of narrative that builds brand loyalty and inspires the next generation of fans.”

Toto finds himself leaning forward, completely engrossed. “I love this direction. Y/N, would you be willing to work with Sarah to develop a proposal for expanding our driver search?”

“Of course,” you reply with a smile that makes Toto’s pulse quicken. “I’d be delighted.”

As the meeting winds down, Toto realizes that the entire dynamic of the board has shifted. The initial wariness towards you has given way to a mixture of respect and curiosity. Even those who seemed most skeptical at the start are now hanging on your every word.

“Well,” Toto says, glancing at his watch, “I think that concludes our agenda for today. Unless anyone has any other matters to discuss?”

The room is silent for a moment before you speak up. “Actually, if I may, I’d like to address the elephant in the room.”

A tense hush falls over the gathering. Toto holds his breath, unsure of what’s coming next.

You stand, your posture relaxed but commanding. “I’m aware of the rumors and speculation surrounding my ... personal life. I want to assure all of you that my presence here is purely professional. I’m not here to cause drama or upheaval. I’m here because I believe in the potential of this team and this sport. I hope that over time, you’ll come to judge me based on my contributions, not on gossip or hearsay.”

The sincerity in your voice is palpable, and Toto can see the effect it has on the room. Shoulders relax, expressions soften. There’s a collective exhale, as if a weight has been lifted.

“Thank you for your honesty,” Toto says, standing as well. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we look forward to working with you and seeing what fresh perspectives you can bring to the team.”

There’s a murmur of agreement around the table. As the meeting officially adjourns, people begin to gather their things and file out of the room. Toto notices that several board members linger, clearly hoping to have a word with you. He feels an unexpected twinge of jealousy.

Before he can second-guess himself, Toto makes his way around the table to where you’re chatting with Sarah about the junior driver program idea.

“Excuse me,” he says, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. “Y/N, I was wondering if I could have a word?”

You turn to him with a smile that makes his heart race. “Of course. What can I do for you?”

He takes a deep breath, acutely aware of the curious glances from the remaining board members. “I was impressed by your insights today. I think there’s a lot we could discuss further about the future direction of the team. Would you perhaps be interested in continuing this conversation over dinner?”

A hush falls over the remaining occupants of the room. Toto can practically feel the weight of their stares, but he keeps his eyes fixed on you.

You raise an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement playing across your features. “Dinner? My, my, Toto. Aren’t you afraid of me? I do have quite the reputation, you know.”

There’s a challenge in your voice, but also a hint of vulnerability that catches Toto off guard. He realizes that beneath your confident exterior, you’re testing him, gauging his true intentions.

Toto meets your gaze steadily, his voice low but firm. “I don’t put much stock in rumors. I prefer to form my own opinions based on what I see and experience. And what I’ve seen today is a brilliant, passionate individual who could be a tremendous asset to this team. That’s the person I’m interested in getting to know better.”

The room seems to hold its breath, waiting for your response. You study Toto for a long moment, your expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a genuine smile spreads across your face.

“Well, in that case, I’d be delighted to have dinner with you. Shall we say eight o’clock?”

Toto feels a rush of relief and excitement. “Eight o’clock sounds perfect. I know just the place.”

As you gather your things and prepare to leave, Toto can’t help but feel like he’s standing on the precipice of something monumental. He’s built his career on calculated risks, on seeing potential where others see danger. Looking at you, he knows that this might be the biggest gamble of his life.

But as you turn to give him one last smile before exiting the boardroom, Toto is certain of one thing: it’s a risk he’s more than willing to take.

***

The Monaco Grand Prix paddock buzzes with excitement, a hive of activity as teams prepare for the most glamorous race on the Formula 1 calendar. Lewis Hamilton and George Russell huddle in a quiet corner of the Mercedes garage, their voices low and urgent.

“I’m telling you, mate, something’s not right,” George insists, his eyes darting around to ensure they’re not overheard. “Have you seen the way Toto’s been acting lately? It’s like he’s under some kind of spell.”

Lewis nods grimly, his usual pre-race focus replaced by concern. “I know what you mean. Ever since she came into the picture, it’s like he’s a different person. Always distracted, making decisions that don’t quite add up.”

“Exactly!” George exclaims, then quickly lowers his voice again. “And have you noticed how she’s always around now? At every meeting, every strategy session. It’s like she’s trying to learn all our secrets.”

Lewis furrows his brow, deep in thought. “You don’t think ... I mean, surely she wouldn’t actually try to ...”

“Kill him?” George finishes, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know, mate. But look at her track record. Seven husbands, all dead within months of marrying her. And now she’s got her claws into Toto.”

As if summoned by their conversation, you appear at the entrance of the garage, Toto at your side. The team principal’s hand rests comfortably on the small of your back as he leads you through the bustling workspace.

Lewis and George fall silent, watching intently as you make your way towards them. Your designer sundress and oversized sunglasses scream understated elegance, but to the two drivers, you might as well be wearing a black widow’s web.

“Good morning,” Toto calls out cheerfully. “Ready for qualifying?”

Lewis forces a smile, his eyes never leaving you. “Morning, Toto. Yeah, we were just discussing strategy.”

You step forward, flashing a dazzling smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important. I’m still learning all the intricacies of race weekends.”

George clears his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “Not at all. We were just finishing up.”

Toto beams, looking from you to his drivers with pride. “Isn’t it wonderful having Y/N here? She’s already brought so many fresh ideas to the team. I don’t know how we managed without her.”

You laugh, a sound that sends chills down Lewis and George’s spines. “Oh, darling, you’re exaggerating. I’m sure these boys were doing just fine before I came along.”

As you speak, your hand reaches up to smooth Toto’s collar, a gesture that seems innocent enough but makes both drivers tense.

Lewis clears his throat. “Actually, Toto, could we have a quick word? About the, uh, tire strategy?”

Toto looks surprised but nods. “Of course. Y/N, would you mind giving us a moment?”

“Not at all,” you reply smoothly. “I’ll just go chat with the mechanics. I’m fascinated by all this technology.”

As you saunter away, Lewis and George exchange a meaningful glance. This is their chance.

“Toto,” Lewis begins, choosing his words carefully. “We’re a bit concerned. About you, actually.”

Toto’s brow furrows in confusion. “Concerned? What do you mean?”

George jumps in, his words tumbling out in a rush. “It’s just that ... well, things have been different since you started seeing her. And given her history ...”

“Her history?” Toto repeats, his voice taking on an edge. “What exactly are you implying?”

Lewis takes a deep breath. “Toto, we care about you. And we can’t help but notice that Y/N’s previous partners have all met with ... unfortunate ends.”

For a moment, Toto just stares at them, his expression unreadable. Then, to their surprise, he bursts out laughing.

“Oh, boys,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I appreciate your concern, truly. But I assure you, it’s misplaced. Y/N has been nothing but a positive influence on both me and the team.”

George persists, his voice urgent. “But Toto, you have to admit, the pattern is alarming. Seven husbands, all dead within months of marriage. And now she’s here, learning all about our team, our strategies ...”

Toto’s amusement fades, replaced by a stern look. “That’s enough. I understand you’re worried, but I won’t have you spreading baseless rumors. Y/N is here because she’s a part-owner of this team and because I invited her. End of discussion.”

As Toto walks away, Lewis and George share a look of dismay.

“He’s in too deep,” Lewis mutters. “We need to do something.”

George nods grimly. “We can’t let her hurt him. Or the team. We need a plan.”

Throughout the day, as qualifying unfolds, Lewis and George find themselves constantly distracted. Every time they catch a glimpse of you in the garage or on the pit wall, their imaginations run wild.

During a brief break between sessions, they overhear a snippet of conversation between you and one of the engineers.

“So, if something were to go wrong with the car during the race,” you’re saying, “what would be the most catastrophic point of failure?”

The engineer launches into a detailed explanation of various mechanical vulnerabilities, unaware of the horrified looks on the drivers’ faces.

“She’s gathering intel,” George whispers to Lewis. “Probably planning some sort of accident for Toto.”

Lewis nods, his jaw set with determination. “We need to warn him again. Make him see reason.”

But their attempts to get Toto alone prove futile. You seem to be constantly by his side, your hand on his arm, whispering in his ear. To an outsider, it might look like the actions of a loving girlfriend, but to Lewis and George, every gesture seems calculated and sinister.

As the day wears on, their paranoia grows. They start seeing threats everywhere. When you hand Toto a bottle of water, they’re convinced it’s poisoned. When you suggest he take a look at something in the back of the garage, they’re sure you’re luring him away to do him harm.

Finally, as the sun begins to set over the Monaco harbor, they decide they can’t wait any longer. They need to confront you directly.

They find you alone in the hospitality area, reviewing some papers. As they approach, you look up with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Lewis, George,” you greet them warmly. “Excellent qualifying today. You must be pleased.”

Lewis takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “Cut the act. We know what you’re up to.”

Your expression doesn’t change, but something flickers in your eyes. “I’m not sure I understand. What exactly am I up to?”

George steps forward, his voice low and intense. “We know about your husbands. All seven of them. And we’re not going to let you add Toto to that list.”

For a moment, you just stare at them, your face unreadable. Then, to their surprise, you burst out laughing.

“Oh,” you chuckle, shaking your head. “Is that what this is all about? You think I’m here to kill Toto?”

Lewis and George exchange confused glances, thrown off by your reaction.

You lean in, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let me tell you a little secret. Those men? They were all terminally ill when I married them. It was a business arrangement, pure and simple. They got to spend their last months with a young, beautiful wife, and I got their fortunes. No foul play involved.”

The drivers stare at you, speechless. You continue, your tone becoming more serious.

“As for Toto, well, that’s different. For the first time in my life, I’ve found someone I genuinely care for. Someone who sees me for who I am, not just what I can offer. I’m not here to hurt him or the team. I’m here because I want to be part of something meaningful.”

Lewis and George exchange uncertain glances, their convictions shaken.

“But ... all the questions about the car, the team strategies ...” George begins.

You roll your eyes, a hint of amusement in your voice. “I’m a part-owner of this team now, remember? Of course I’m trying to learn everything I can. How else can I contribute?”

As the truth of your words sinks in, Lewis and George begin to feel a creeping sense of embarrassment. They’ve let their imaginations and preconceptions run wild, seeing threats where there were none.

“I ... we ...” Lewis stammers, struggling to find the right words.

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “It’s alright. I understand. My reputation precedes me, and you were just looking out for Toto. I can respect that.”

George rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “We may have gotten a bit carried away. I’m sorry.”

You smile, and this time it reaches your eyes. “Apology accepted. Now, what do you say we put this behind us and focus on winning tomorrow’s race?”

As if on cue, Toto appears, looking between the three of you with curiosity. “Everything alright here?”

You stand, moving to his side and slipping your arm through his. “Everything’s perfect, darling. In fact, I think Lewis and George were just about to share some ideas they had for the race strategy. Weren’t you, boys?”

Lewis and George nod, grateful for the out you’ve given them. As they launch into a discussion about tire management and overtaking opportunities, they can’t help but marvel at how wrong they’ve been.

Watching you interact with Toto, they see not a black widow spinning her web, but a woman genuinely in love, bringing out the best in their team principal. They realize that sometimes, people can surprise you. And sometimes, the most unexpected additions to a team can be the most valuable.

***

The soft glow of chandeliers bathes the exclusive Monégasque restaurant in warm light, casting elegant shadows across the faces of Monaco’s elite. Grigori Volkov, a grizzled veteran of the Russian underworld, sips his vodka, his weathered face a mask of careful neutrality as he surveys the room.

His eyes narrow as they land on a familiar figure across the crowded dining area. It can’t be, he thinks, leaning forward for a better look. But there’s no mistaking that face, those eyes that have haunted his dreams and nightmares for years.

You.

Grigori watches as you laugh, your hand resting lightly on the arm of a tall, distinguished-looking man. He recognizes him vaguely. But what catches Grigori off guard is the easy intimacy between you, the matching wedding bands glinting in the low light.

For a moment, Grigori considers slipping out unnoticed. But curiosity gets the better of him. He signals the waiter, ordering another round of drinks to be sent to your table.

As the waiter approaches with the drinks, Grigori sees your posture stiffen slightly, your eyes scanning the room until they lock onto his. He raises his glass in a small salute, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You lean in, whispering something to Toto. The man looks surprised but nods, and together you make your way towards Grigori’s table.

“Grigori,” you greet him, your voice a mix of warmth and wariness. “It’s been a long time.”

Grigori stands, bowing slightly. “Indeed it has, my dear. You’re looking well. And who might this be?”

Toto extends his hand, his grip firm. “Toto Wolff. And you are?”

“An old friend of your wife’s,” Grigori replies smoothly, noting the flicker of surprise in Toto’s eyes at the word ’wife’. “Grigori Volkov. I knew Y/N back in her Russian days.”

You gesture to the empty chairs. “May we join you?”

Grigori nods, waving expansively. “Please, be my guests.”

As you settle in, Grigori can’t help but study Toto more closely. He’s younger than expected, vital and alert. Not at all what he’d imagined for your latest conquest.

“So, Toto,” Grigori begins, his accent thick with amusement, “how long have you and our dear Y/N been married?”

Toto smiles, his hand finding yours on the table. “Just over two years now. Best decision I ever made.”

Grigori’s eyebrows shoot up. “Two years? My, my. That’s quite impressive.”

You shoot him a warning look, but Toto just looks confused. “I’m not sure I follow. Why is that impressive?”

Grigori chuckles, taking a long sip of his vodka. “Oh, forgive me. I just meant that Y/N here has always been something of a ... how do you say ... free spirit? Never one to be tied down for long.”

You interject quickly, “People change, Grigori. I’ve found what I was looking for.”

Grigori nods, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Indeed they do. And what of your ... other interests? The ones you inherited from dear Dmitri?”

Toto’s brow furrows. “Dmitri? I’m afraid I don’t know much about Y/N’s ex-husbands.”

“Ex-husbands?” Grigori repeats, feigning surprise. “Oh, but Dmitri was special, wasn’t he? After all, not every day one inherits a slice of the Bratva.”

The color drains from Toto’s face as he turns to you. “The Bratva? As in, the Russian mob?”

You sigh, shooting Grigori a glare that could freeze vodka. “It’s complicated, darling. And very much in the past.”

Grigori leans back, thoroughly enjoying the drama unfolding before him. “Oh, come now, Y/N. Surely your husband deserves to know the truth? About your colorful past, your string of deceased husbands, your unexpected rise to power in certain ... shall we say, unofficial circles?”

Toto looks between you and Grigori, his expression a mix of confusion and growing concern. “Y/N, what is he talking about?”

You take a deep breath, squeezing Toto’s hand. “Toto, there are parts of my past I haven’t told you about. Not because I wanted to keep secrets, but because I wanted to leave that life behind.”

Grigori interjects, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “Oh, but my dear, can one ever truly leave such a life behind? Especially when one has risen to such ... prominent positions?”

Toto’s eyes narrow as he looks at Grigori. “And what exactly is your role in all this?”

Grigori smiles, all teeth and no warmth. “Let’s just say I’m an old associate of Dmitri’s. And by extension, of Y/N’s. Though I must admit, I’m surprised to see you still among the living, Mr. Wolff. Our dear Y/N has quite a reputation, you know.”

You slam your hand on the table, your voice low and dangerous. “Enough, Grigori. That’s not who I am anymore.”

Grigori holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Of course, of course. I meant no offense. I’m merely ... surprised. After all, your previous husbands weren’t quite so fortunate. Or so young and vigorous.”

Toto’s jaw clenches, his eyes darting between you and Grigori. “I think it’s time we left.”

As you stand to leave, Grigori calls out, “Oh, but we’ve only just begun to catch up. There’s so much your husband doesn’t know, Y/N. About the power you wield, the empire you inherited. Don’t you think he deserves to know the truth about the woman he married?”

You turn back, your eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something deeper, more dangerous. “The truth, Grigori, is that I left that life behind. I found something real, something worth living for. And if you or anyone else tries to drag me back into that world, you’ll regret it.”

Grigori leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Is that a threat, my dear?”

You smile, cold and sharp. “Consider it a friendly warning. From one old friend to another.”

As you and Toto walk away, Grigori can’t help but feel a shiver run down his spine. He’d forgotten, in the years since you’d left Russia, just how formidable you could be.

He watches as you and Toto have an intense, whispered conversation by the exit. To his surprise, instead of storming out, Toto nods, takes your hand, and leads you back to Grigori’s table.

“Mr. Volkov,” Toto says, his voice steady and controlled, “I think it’s time we had an honest conversation. About Y/N’s past, about your ... association, and about how we move forward from here.”

Grigori raises an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. “Well, well. It seems you’ve found yourself a man with a spine, Y/N. Very well, let’s talk.”

As the three of you settle back into your seats, Grigori can’t help but feel a grudging respect for Toto. Most men would have run for the hills by now, but here he is, ready to face the truth head-on.

“So,” Grigori begins, pouring fresh vodka for all of you, “where shall we start? With Dmitri? With the Bratva? Or perhaps with the mysterious deaths of Y/N’s previous husbands?”

Toto takes a sip of vodka, his eyes never leaving Grigori’s. “Let’s start with the truth. All of it.”

You sigh, your hand finding Toto’s under the table. “Alright. Dmitri was my fifth husband. He was a high-ranking member of the Bratva, and when he died, I inherited his position and his connections.”

Grigori nods approvingly. “She’s being modest. Y/N didn’t just inherit Dmitri’s position — she expanded it. Forged new alliances, eliminated rivals. She became a force to be reckoned with in our world.”

Toto looks at you, his expression unreadable. “And the other husbands?”

You meet his gaze steadily. “They were all older men, all terminally ill. It was a business arrangement. They got to spend their last months with a young wife, and I got their fortunes. No foul play, I swear.”

Grigori chuckles. “Oh, come now. There were rumors, whispers of poison, of accidents arranged just so ...”

You whirl on him, your eyes flashing. “Rumors started by people like you. People who couldn’t believe a woman could gain power without resorting to murder.”

Toto squeezes your hand, his voice gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

You turn back to him, your expression softening. “Because I wanted to leave it all behind. When I met you, I saw a chance at a real life, a real relationship. I didn’t want my past to taint that.”

Grigori watches this exchange with growing fascination. He’s never seen you like this — vulnerable, open, genuinely in love. It’s... unsettling.

“And now?” He asks, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice. “What becomes of your empire, Y/N? Your power? Your connections?”

You straighten, your voice firm. “I’ve been systematically dismantling it all. Using the resources to fund legitimate businesses, charitable foundations. I’m out. For good.”

Grigori leans back, genuinely surprised. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re really walking away from it all.”

Toto speaks up, his voice steady. “We’re building something new together. Something honest, something we can be proud of.”

Grigori studies them both for a long moment, then throws back the last of his vodka. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’ve actually done it. You’ve found a way out.”

You nod, a small smile playing at your lips. “I have. And I’d appreciate it if you’d spread the word. Y/N Wolff is retired. Permanently.”

Grigori stands, straightening his jacket. “Consider it done, my dear. But know this — there will always be those who remember who you were, what you were capable of. Be careful.”

As he turns to leave, Toto calls out, “Mr. Volkov?”

Grigori pauses, looking back. “Yes?”

Toto’s voice is calm, but there’s steel beneath the surface. “If anyone from Y/N’s past tries to cause trouble for us, they’ll have to deal with me. And I assure you, I can be just as formidable as my wife when necessary.”

Grigori studies Toto for a moment, then breaks into a broad grin. “I believe you, Mr. Wolff. I really do. Take care of her, won’t you? She’s one of a kind.”

As Grigori walks away, he can’t help but shake his head in amazement. You, the Black Widow of the Bratva, settled down and in love. Will wonders never cease?

He glances back one last time to see you and Toto deep in conversation, your hands intertwined on the table. There’s an openness to your expression that he’s never seen before, a vulnerability that speaks volumes.

For the first time in years, Grigori feels a twinge of envy. Not for your power or your wealth, but for the genuine connection you seem to have found. As he steps out into the cool Monaco night, he wonders if perhaps it’s time for him to consider a change of his own.

After all, if the infamous Y/N can find redemption and true love, maybe there’s hope for an old dog like him yet.

[sayruq]

Dr. Tanya Haj-Hassan, a pediatric intensive care physician who works with Médecins Sans Frontières and co-founded @GazaMedicVoices, has emerged as one of the most prominent voices raising the alarm about the hell Israel has created for Gaza’s healthcare workers. Mary Turfah: Yesterday, I came across a report of a third mass grave unearthed at Al-Shifa Hospital. One month ago, as the first mass graves there were being uncovered, you were interviewed by Sky News. The anchor cited Israeli military sources saying that they had detained “hundreds of Hamas militants” within the complex, then asked you what you thought of that. Could you speak to your response to him, and to this persistent obsession with “militants at Al-Shifa,” when not a single hospital in Gaza has been spared, and when there have been mass graves [seven in total to date] uncovered at multiple hospitals in Gaza? Tanya Haj-Hassan: Yeah. I think my response was something to the effect of, I can’t believe we’re still having this conversation. Everybody from a medical or humanitarian background is so sick of having to respond to these atrocious, preposterous justifications that are being provided for things that are never justifiable. I thought the Hamas and Al-Shifa question was buried a long time ago. There were several weeks where that’s all we were asked about in interviews. There were multiple investigations done that concluded no credible evidence existed to justify the attacks on Al-Shifa. And then, Al-Shifa was targeted again, besieged again. Then, eventually, Al-Shifa started functioning again. The staff were so proud of the fact that they got it functioning again. That second time, the hospital was again besieged and targeted. A lot of the staff were taken out into the courtyard of the hospital, where the male staff were stripped. Israeli soldiers beat several of the healthcare providers. A very, very senior person at Al Shifa, an older doctor, was eventually released and came on foot to Al-Aqsa Hospital. And immediately, he went back to work. I was at Al-Aqsa Hospital when he turned up disheveled, beard down to here, exhausted, having lost I don’t know how many kilos, hadn’t seen his family for five months, didn’t have a phone, didn’t have proper shoes, didn’t have proper clothes. They fled with basically nothing. And many of the other healthcare providers who were taken outside with him were abducted. I think his testimonies of what happened and the amount of work they had put into getting Al-Shifa functioning again made the question of the Sky News anchor even more infuriating. Because that’s the reality I had just come out of, and to hear him then ask a health professional who had spent the last few weeks resuscitating dead and dying children that have been maimed to an extent that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget—even though I think for my own well-being, it would probably be good if I would forget some of those images—I found it so insulting. Insulting to me, to the healthcare providers who had risked their lives to stay at Al-Shifa, who had lost 25 percent of their body weight, who were exhausted. Insulting to the health care providers who had been killed at Al-Shifa, fleeing from Al-Shifa, to the civilians who were executed there. It’s insulting to our intellect. It’s insulting to humanity

MT: Last week, it was revealed that Dr. Adnan Al-Bursh, a renowned orthopedic surgeon in Gaza, was tortured to death inside of Israeli prisons, according to eyewitness testimony, after he had been abducted from the hospital where he was providing life-saving care, back in December. Hundreds of medical workers have been killed to date, and many more injured. You said in one interview that doctors and healthcare workers are changing out of their scrubs before leaving the hospital so that they’re not targeted. On top of this, the doctors in Gaza have been working basically nonstop for 215 days. As someone who has worked in Gaza, I was wondering if you could say a bit about what your colleagues are facing day-to-day. THH: I want to start with the abduction of healthcare workers, because it’s so underreported, to the point where myself and my colleagues, medical providers working our own jobs, are doing the investigative work. They’re systematic. There have been at least 240 abductions documented by our group— MT: 240?! THH: At least 240, and I’m not talking about what’s reported by the Ministry of Health, which I believe is an even higher number. We documented that at least 240 healthcare workers have been abducted and detained by Israeli forces, the majority of whom have not been released. And the ones who have been released are providing testimonies of torture, of themselves but also the torture that they’ve witnessed. I’ve taken testimonies. One, a three-hour-long testimony about the torture inflicted on [my friend,] a nurse, for 53 days in custody, accusing him of being part of Hamas, of his family being part of Hamas, even though the fact that he was released tells you he wasn’t part of Hamas. Given the extent to which he was tortured, I’m surprised that he survived. And he has not survived with his physical and mental health intact. He has scars, he has nightmares. He had hematuria, so bleeding when he urinated, for weeks after he was released.

Please read this interview as it sheds light on the horrors doctors, nurses, and other medical workers in Gaza have endured

[forhappysake]

"Because I love you."

A/N - Guys I'm really into these sappy pieces recently. Pls feel free to send requests for something else if inspired. Also, I might be doing a pt.3 to Teach Me at some point, I just have to pick where the story is going.

Summary - A showdown with an unsub leaves you in the hospital. Spencer can't help but feel guilty. Could almost losing you push him to confess his love? (spoilers: yes it does)

Warnings - spencer x reader, BAU level violence, some angst on Spencer's part, fluff, and a love confession

You stared down at your hands, battered and bloodied from your futile attempts to fight back. Caught off guard during an interview with a man who was only supposed to be an eye witness,  not the unsub himself, forced you to fight for your life. By the time the neighbors heard the scuffle and called the local police to come to your rescue, you figured you looked like you’d been through seven rounds of an MMA fight. Your head ached, your eye was swollen shut, and you nearly cried in agony with every breath as you were certain you’d broken a rib. 

After a tense standoff with the local police, the unsub was in custody, leaving you on the floor with your many wounds. You managed to stand yourself up and walk out the door to the waiting ambulance, only to collapse into the EMT’s arms. You felt yourself being loaded in the back of the vehicle as they started an IV. As consciousness drifted away from you, you couldn’t help but wonder where your team was. 

***

You awoke in the hospital to the steady sound of your heart monitor beeping and muffled conversation from outside your room. Your bloodied clothes had been traded in for a hospital gown at some point, and your midsection was bound tightly with some sort of bandages, you assumed to keep your rib in place. You managed to open your good eye in an attempt to find the source of those muffled voices. Your eyes landed on Emily and JJ speaking in the corner of the room, voices hushed. 

“He can’t blame himself. None of us saw this coming,” Emily said, her voice stern but laced with concern. 

JJ shook her head. “He feels terrible, Emily. I’ve seen him come in and out of here crying three times in the last two hours. He rarely cries.” 

Who could they be talking about?

Emily looked at the floor in silence, trying to formulate a reply. JJ cleared her voice to speak again. “They’re partners, Emily,” JJ said, “Of course he’s going to blame himself.” 

Spencer. 

Deciding you’d had enough of eavesdropping, you did your best to sit up, only to let out a whimper when a sharp pain pierced your side. JJ and Emily turned to face you, surprised looks on both their faces. 

“Hey, just lay back,” JJ encouraged. She rushed to the bedside, placing a soothing hand on your arm.

“How long have I been asleep?” you asked. 

Emily shook her head, “Only twelve hours, which isn’t very much considering what you’ve been through. I’ll tell the doctors you need another IV and some pain medication.”

As she turned for the door, you shook your head, “Emily, wait.”

Emily turned to face you, coming to stand at the foot of your bed. “What is it?”

“Where’s Spencer?” you asked. Emily looked to JJ, the two of them sharing a knowing glance. You and Spencer had always been close, as partners and friends. 

“He’s been going back and forth between pacing the parking lot and the lobby for hours. I can’t imagine how many steps he’s taken,” Emily joked. “I’ll go get him for you.” With that, she turned and left the room, leaving you and JJ to catch up on what you’d missed in the last few hours. 

JJ explained what happened after you’d passed out: how the unsub was in custody, finding another victim in his basement, and the team realizing that they’d sent you out to interview the lunatic on your own. “We just thought he was going to give you some information about the case. We had no reason to think that he was the one who-”

You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop her. “I didn’t think so either. It’s why I agreed to go alone. Nobody’s at fault.” 

JJ nodded, a solemn look on her face. “I’m just so glad you’re okay. We were all so worried once we connected the dots. I was telling Emily - I haven’t seen Spencer so stressed in years.” 

As if on cue, both you and JJ turned to the sound of rushed footsteps coming down the hallway. Spencer’s tall frame was running (no, sprinting) down the hospital corridor. You felt a small smile tug at the corner of your lips as he burst into the room, hair danging in front of his eyes and clearly out of breath. 

He approached your bedside, leaning down so he could be face-to-face with you. You could only see him with one good eye, but you did your best to smile to show him that you were doing alright. You brought a hand to his face, pushing the fallen strands of hair out of his eyes so you could see him more clearly. “Hello to you too,” you joked. 

“Y/N-” Spencer started, the tears quickly gathering in his eyes, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve gone with you. I should have known that-” 

“That the guy who called into the tipline was actually the unsub? Spencer, be logical. None of us knew. I was just telling JJ, nobody is at fault.”

A single tear fell down his cheek as he examined your injuries. With each scratch and bruise he found, he felt another crack forming in his heart. He hadn’t protected you. Wasn’t that what he was supposed to do? He was your partner. Your best friend. He loved you, that he knew. He’d forced that love to be as platonic as he could make it, trying to avoid ruining your perfect friendship. It was moments like this that made that more difficult than ever, as he tried to reckon with his love and his guilt. 

Your bruised hand was still cradling his face. He could feel the bandages against his stubble, and he cursed himself again. It was only then that the other presence in the room became known to him. JJ stood on the other side of the bed, another knowing smile gently painting her lips. Spencer knew what he had to do. JJ knew what Spencer had to do. He looked at her, his eyes subtly asking her to leave the two of you alone. JJ took the hint with a small nod, leaving the room without another word as you and Spencer continued to examine each other. 

“So, JJ’s filled me in on what I missed,” I said, breaking the silence. “Sounds like a pretty exciting half day,” I joked. 

Spencer shook his head, pulling away from your hand. He didn’t go far, though, intertwining his own with yours as he leaned back from the bed. “I was worried sick,” he said. 

“I can tell, Spence,” you said, trying to prop yourself up with your pillow. “You really shouldn’t have been. You know I always come out of these things relatively unscathed.” He raised an eyebrow at your statement, taking in your swollen and bruised features. “Well… maybe not unscathed. Alive, at least,” you quipped. 

An eerie silence fell over the room. You could feel the tension increase as the gears turned in his head.

“But what if you don’t someday?” he whispered, his voice far away. You looked over at him, his eyes fixed on your heart monitor and the gentle green lines rising and falling accompanied by the signature beep-beep-beeping. 

You squeezed his hand in an attempt to bring him back down to Earth. “I’ll always come back, Spencer. It’s what you and I do. We come back alive for each other.” 

The tears that had pooled in his eyes earlier spilled over his cheeks as he let out a small whimper. He leaned down, gently wrapping his arms around you as he wept. “Hey, it’s okay Spencer,” you tried to calm him. 

“No, it’s not. It-it’s not because,” he trailed off. You could still feel his shoulders shaking as he cried. 

“Why, Spencer?” you asked once more. “Please, you can tell me anything.” 

Suddenly his sobs slowed. He pulled back from your embrace, taking in your features. Bruised and battered as you were, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He felt like his heart was going to explode. Before his brain could catch up with his mouth, the words came tumbling out. “Because I love you,” he said simply. 

Your jaw dropped open at his words. While you should’ve seen this coming, nothing could prepare you for the way your heart jumped. If it wasn’t evident from the expression on your face, the heart monitor picked up its beeping, nearly doubling its pace. The sound wasn’t lost on Spencer, who frantically looked at the screen.

“Oh no,” he mumbled, quickly walking to the monitor. “Did I upset you? I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ve just felt this way for so long and if I keep pretending like I don’t-”

“Spencer,” you cut him off, his eyes meeting yours for the first time in minutes. “I love you too.” 

The look on his face was priceless, and you wished you could have taken a picture, but you did your best to engrave it on your brain forever. His brown, teary eyes brightened in a moment, a glimmer of hope shining from within. “You do?” he asked. 

You laughed, allowing your head to fall back on the pillow behind you. “Spencer, I volunteer to work with you during nearly every case. We split a room every week. I only wished that you’d said this sooner so we could’ve split the bed, too.”

He stared at you in shock. The tears in his eyes long forgotten as a smile crept on his face.

A soft laugh left his mouth as he leaned down to you once more, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, careful to avoid any injured area. “Well, I promise that next time we can,” he said. “And,” he started once more, “I’m never letting you go anywhere by yourself again.”

You smiled up at him, running your fingers over his own. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[lucabyte]

Finally: The NoHats AU doodles. Plus some sprite edits.

Usually I'd let things speak for themselves and keep my chattering in the tags, but I'll ramble about my context thoughts...

So. First of all here's a link (x) to the Nohats Origin Post for those coming in and going ????.

Anyway. These doodles are not in any obvious chronological order, though Loop going from pilfered bandolier (my headcanon for how Siffrin has all those pockets) -> custom outfit made by Isabeau, is supposed to generally denote 'just after the ending' -> 'a few months down the line'.

And speaking of, Design & Characterisation notes:

Overall: NoHats is suppooooosed to have the range to not just be ULTIMATE MISERY ALL THE TIME (but if you're a major whump/angst fan. go fucking nuts.) so these are supposed to be. The steps toward overcoming and living with grief but. The Misery Is Kind Of The Punchiest Part.... Oops....

Mirabelle: Taking the lead, continuing to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. In the game proper she's already shown to, while yes, be emotionally fragile at times, be prone to trying to hold the team together. I feel she'd do the same here. It also would help that she'd presumably be medicated again? But I can't imagine her chosen-one anxieities would be super ailed by the death of her friend. I wanted to try and give her more differences? She follows the change belief after all and is thus liable to switch up her style in general... But I didn't have a strong vision for this, so. The ball is in anyone's court. Her design changes here are keeping one of Sif's safety pins a la qpr bonding earring, and has the bell pendant at Loop's (oddly pushy) suggestion.

Isabeau: Taking it. Badly. Depression mullet and beard in tow. However, you best believe he is trying real badly to hide it. Loop very much does not reveal their identity to him because What The Fuck Would That Even Do. That's Scary. but they do try to comfort him while mentally regarding him "off limits". Backs themselves into some very unfortunate corners by alluding to their unfulfilled relationship with their Fighter as a point of common ground. I don't imagine this would go super great when recontextualised later after Loop is inevitably found out. Just in general oh good god what the fuck. this is like a radioactive pit of survivor's guilt.

Bonnie: Taking it probably The Worst. This is a child. Who was already feeling guilt. This is who everyone else is trying to keep it together for. Mirabelle and Isabeau would likely be putting up far less of a front without Bonnie around. They take the hat and take on Pocket Duty. They also have slightly more sif-y hairstyle but... Don't worry about it. They'd have Nille to fall back on once she's picked back up, and Loop almost certainly attempts to redouble efforts on making them feel better but seeing as how closed-off Bonnie can already be, it'd likely be difficult. However they would probably take Loop's identity reveal best...?

Odile: Odile's design.... ! Does not seem to have changed? How odd! Well. I'm sure she's dealing with things in a regular and non-cloistered manner. I already think that a regular Postcanon Activity for Odile could be her finding out about the potential for sif/loop to translate books and thus Knowledge in their native tongue assuming that ability sticks around postgame. Something something culture can never truly be wiped out etc etc. But putting it in this context. Makes it more desperate, more of a deflection for something else.

Loop: Helpful Loop. Well. They win! I feel like the entirety of ISAT being about Siffrin's mental state means I don't need to spill much ink here? You get it I think. I can't outdo the source material man. Anyway I imagine Loop is given clothes by Isabeau before they know who they are, but after they've become genuine friends. The outfit is in genuineness, on both sides from Loop and Isa, in having the cloak be a nod in respect to Siffrin, since Loop's "shared culture" would have to come up vis a vis cultural funerary traditions. Hard to avoid divulging that one...

[azulsluver]

okay bully twst au, but what if we enjoy the bullying? mc perhaps didn't get enough attention as a child and thinks even the worst attention means love?

shymaso anon

Took my sweet sweet time for this!

This could be towards canon of reader’s personality in this AU, all thoughts are welcomed though. So I’ll try my best to go through various versions if asked.

tw. yandere, bully!characters, cheating, abusive + unhealthy relationships, subtle violence, emotional dependency, degradation, drowning, stalking (cameras).

Edit: I FORGOT KALIM AND JAMIL

Welcome to the team •shymaso anon ⸂⸂⸜(രᴗര๑)⸝⸃⸃

Riddle Rosehearts trains you to be the best.

He knew you would understand him, in his own way, Riddle believes the two of you were destined as you nod and responded to his lectures.

Every mistake you took his punishments without hesitation, hands gripping at your locks as your battered face looks up at him with mercy. Letting the collar he summoned around your neck choke you blue but you cling to him like a source of light. Riddle can crumble right there and now.

You’re not making his feelings any better as soon as he learns of your past. It just encourages him to be harsher, understand that everything he did is for you, us! Riddle however, would be much generous of your tolerance. Cooing rather than yelling at you for dropping something. You mustn’t be too clumsy, Riddle expects the best performance from you after a three hour long session.

It’s kitten licks once he’s over his brutish tendencies, doting you like the perfect spouse you were meant to be. All your wounds tell a story, how rough the two of you had it (even if the injuries are yours solely), what’s a better love story? Riddle built you solely for the sake of your relationship, the moment you let yourself be known that his teachings and rules are one to be taken serious. He’s groaning in his hands by how perfect you’ve become.

Riddle makes you dance on eggshells, because you rather keep your mouth shut and let it be he takes control of every move you make, all the things you eat to wear will be supervised by him. You love him too much to say no.

Trey Clover has you under his thumb.

Doesn’t Trey know better? Of course he did, he always does. Trey understands the way your mind worked before you could, you like the way he insults you, no amount of tears can hide that familiarity of fondness from him. Like a child being sent to time out, Trey will open his arms to you after you learn your lesson.

See? He feeds you, he provides your need once your good. Because good, obedient things like you deserve nothing but his presence. Isn’t that enough, he’s enough, you really can’t get away from him either way.

When your feelings get hurt, he will dig himself into your comfort zone, find him, Trey will console you the best he can before flicking your forehead. Kiss his cheek as a thank you, he’ll remind you that no one else will do these sorts of things when times get rough. Only Trey will. So he’ll wait until you decided to show up at his doorstep.

He knows you can’t separate the difference between love and abuse, you don’t need to, all he’s worried about is getting you away from everyone else. They’re hurting you so much he’s running out of medical supplies to patch you up. Stay with him, in his arms, his home, as you eat, sleep, think, see him everyday.

Trey will gladly give you his attention, just give yourself to him. Don’t fight it, the thought never crosses your mind.

Cater Diamond comes to a conclusion.

He’s quick to pick up your behavior. Don’t call him an expert, but Cater can spot a neglected child like you a mile away. He at first would pass you by, you got a lot going on man.

Unless you attract his attention, Cater pops up once in a while to see how things are going. Let himself relax, hand supporting his head as you ramble on your day, Cater doesn’t bother to pretend he’s listening nor interested. He is however, eyeing the bruise on your neck. Cater can do a lot without interrogating or forcing you, your reluctance is adorable, keep up that nervous smile as he takes a couple of pics of your bloodied nose and forehead.

Cater considers you to be helpless, for a person to accept their loss and let the world decide whether you’ll die or live under their hands. It’s awful, but he won’t do anything to stop it. You make him think a lot. He won’t show it nor express his opinion, but Cater wonders if you know what true love is. He knows this sick obsession he has for you is nothing compared to the real thing. But you won’t complain, so he crushes your skull with his hands just to be in your personal space. That look on your face is priceless.

Years of conflict battles in his mind, should he revel his true self to you? He’s so dull, you don’t seem to care much as long as he’s speaking to you in that monotone voice. You’re so strange.

A long ride of emotions go through him, he knows you won’t laugh in his face or push his boundaries, he’s made sure of that by drilling it in your head that Cater Diamond can easily put you six feet under if you tried. You’re sweet, kissing him up and consoling him, he feels terrible that he had to push his way through when you so happily let him in.

Ace Trappola tests your loyalty.

No normal person likes to be pushed around, Ace figured you must’ve been some sort of masochist.

One of the many things he did to get on your nerves was ditch you for his group. Did he invite you to hang out? Sorry, you must have heard him wrong, but you can always latch on to them later if you’re that lonely. Ace doesn’t miss the way you take that opportunity, sticking to his side and only talking when someone asks you a question. Either that you basked in his presence.

Ace tested the waters little by little with new schemes, pushing you into tight spaced closets or putting bugs in your clothes. Forcing you to touch something be set on fire or nudge your gut too harshly to set you back into reality. And all of it, you come running back to him.

You make him feel bad, the more he has you in his arms, shaking as you beg him to not leave you over and over. How brainless can you be? Who are you to tell him what he should or shouldn’t do with you, how dare you make him sick to his stomach as he brings you closer while rubbing your back tenderly.

Don’t whine too much when he throws an arm around another person, exclaiming how pretty they are compared to you. He has no problem saying all of these things in your face if you dare look his way. Please look his way Look at how sweet the kisses are, it’s not rough and mean when he does it with you!!!

Deuce Spade tries again and again.

With Ace not mouthing his ear off, Deuce can happily hold you close to him. Your finger nails all dirty from clawing the floor and face swollen from the metal bar he used after finding you talking to someone that wasn’t him or Ace. You’re doing so good, listening to his sorries as he preps kisses on your lips.

The fear of your rejection is nonexistent, cuddling up by his side with an arm around you, you’re showing Deuce the submission he sought out for. You’re docile. And it makes him happy, you’re happy.

Deuce will promise to never hurt you again, as long as you stay by his side he will never leave you. So don’t mind if he gets angry sometimes, it’s the heat of the moment, he didn’t mean it, don’t cry he’ll wipe your tears with more promises. Deuce loves you, so, so much.

You bring yourself back, you’re getting more beat up than usual. He finds it in his heart to push you away during times like these, but you insist. He needs you just as badly as you needed him, the two of you finding comfort in one another as he runs a finger down the scars on your collarbone. The bruise ring near your throat has him in a trance. Your body knows and accepts it.

Unfortunately you accept Deuce. You could say the blind leading the blind fits perfectly.

Leona Kingscholar lets you stick around.

Are you throwing yourself at him? Do you seek his attention purely for your own desire, Leona can see the way your eyes shine brighter after seeing him. Does his cold nature entice you, does it make you lean close to his claws as they scratch at your cheeks and chin?

Leona’s tail will fester in a slow yet excited tempo, each time you come back to him after he tells you to fuck off just to bring him a snack. He guess he can entertain you for a while, just don’t get used to it, he has better things to do than playing babysitter with you. ….Oh come back, it was a joke, can’t take humor well now he sees.

Sing him his praises, tell him how handsome he is even when he points out your flaws. Snuggle against his palm like you crave the hurt, his fangs snarling when you pull back. Leona won’t deny it any longer, such a sweet thing is too good to pass up. You don’t run away when he gets too rough, Leona has to remind himself how fragile magicless toys are, he’s not looking to break you so early on. Not that he needs to, you don’t seem to search for any sort of attention but his.

You must remember that Leona can’t always be there to keep you in check. Going days without seeing you, when needed that look, his hands on you in whichever way, bend and twist till you felt like screaming.

Patience is key, Leona decided it’s better that you stay with him, only. There isn’t any reason to leave, he’s got everything covered, so don’t listen when he whispers to you in the dead of night that he’ll toss you once you serve it’s purpose. It’s a way for you to tightly wrap your arms around him with a cry.

Ruggie Bucchi is complexed of your relationship.

If it weren’t for his fondness of you, Ruggie would have left you to fend for yourself. He’s putting in effort, alright, Ruggie doesn’t have time to be at your side everyday of the hour. You stress him out so bad.

He keeps to himself about his feelings regarding of your relationship with everyone else, as Ruggie makes himself of some use, the back of his mind tells him he isn’t enough. It should be a good thing! You’re getting the attention you crave, but Ruggie wants to be your attention, so he gets more aggressive with you. Ruggie often drifts to what more can he be than your side job of a babysitter. When it becomes too much he’ll ghost you for a couple of weeks to calm down.

Ruggie never thought he would find himself with you of all people, he’s so use to pushing you away, only interacting with you since you cry too much or Leona told him to check up on you. He’s angry at you for messing with him, you must forget who’s in charge of the situation (he’s expressing himself here).

In a perspective, Ruggie is cleaning up everyone’s mess, you, you’re getting the privilege of being a pain and no one is stopping you. Ruggie wants to stop you, not that he cares for your well being, but extra work isn’t rewarding him…..enough. You thank Ruggie for tending to your wounds but never ask him to talk about his day. Being under the food chain is nothing, but to you, doesn’t he deserve a better place than that?

Choosing him will make him annoyed, cheesy, yet annoyed. How much longer must he play pretend until you lay your head on his chest and indicate his love for you. Ruggie would rather eat mouthfuls of dirt before confessing. You make his head hurt, so he goes back to distancing until he’s ready to deal with you again.

Jack Howl swears to change.

It’s like a slap to the face. Whether you directly or hint it to him, Jack feels like the worst person in all of Twisted Wonderland. He’s supposed to be good, not bad and treat you like shit.

Your belief of any sort of attention is love, bad love, is good enough—Jack will have a meltdown. Did he not succeed to make you comfortable? He prides it in himself to change your views, Jack will show you what love is. But it’s not easy when he’s too shy to hold your hand. He has to be pushed in the situation to even touch you, you’ll take it the wrong way of him not wanting to touch you at all, that’s not true!

Protecting you is his job, not full time. If he could, Jack sets rules for you, one is to stop interacting with anyone that hurts you. Don’t show him that blissed expression after being tugged and called a bitch, it makes his tail stiff. It’s degrading, and he’s not the one being degraded. You make him feel like a joke, his actions aren’t enough that you actively search for more of that abuse, Jack would kill you.

He isn’t perfect on the ideally healthy relationship. He slips up time to time when it comes to your well being. He swears he knows best, because you’re just a fuck up that let’s everyone walk on you. He’s doing it again-he’s being mean; all is forgiven when he’s holding his head to your lap as he mutter an apology.

Jack may not have a good grip of your problem, but he wished you seek him out other than their abusive behavior. Jack is good if you’re happy and he thinks you did good. Focused on his happiness, you’re a little addicted to his controlling energy, just don’t say it to his face.

Azul Ashengrotto finds you in pathetic.

Fucked up trauma and you decided to come for him to cope. Azul is nerved by this fact, who enjoys suffering the worst kinds of attention, you’re clearly not loved enough, where is your respect??

Azul will blabber on, as if he’s not walking into your little world of misfortune. Sneering your way and rolling his eyes, it makes you attach to him in an instant. Is that attractive to you, to be an asshole who walks over you as a crumb of attention. Through all the scoffing and insults, Azul falls deeper to fill in that hole. Let his hand tighten around your forearm for getting in his way. Or getting in your personal space and accusing you of being a pervert. Just keep seeking out for him, he’s hungry to indulge unintentionally.

As a NORMAL person, Azul begs the Gods to stop him from continuing this madness. You plague him, and it’s insane he lets this continue any further. He should’ve stopped you, himself, anything from calling you a nauseous to pretty in seconds.

But you keep bothering him, finding a way to be at his side. He doesn’t push you away, warning you to make the best out of his time before he decides to do something more important than pleasing your desperate self. His doors are always open to you.

If you want it so badly then fine. Azul, behind closed doors, will allow you to look at him, touch him, put your head on his thigh as his index rub circles around the fading bruise on your neck. Glance up at him lovingly, thank him for giving such good attention. Azul can purr under all this affection.

Jade Leech is all too happy.

You accept every slap on the wrist as a necessity. Your wrong doings of not giving Jade his usual attention span, taking it with tears threatening to fall from your puffy eyes. You know not to cry because he’ll make it a big deal, wipe your tears and accept his love.

Without a doubt, Jade isn’t afraid to confess to you, fingers dragging against the marked skin of teeth that blossoms a deep and dark color. He does it because he loves you, you know? Isn’t this what you’re use to, his love taps are a reminder, he loves yoouu. Listen to him tell you how much he wishes to leave you in the crashing waves of the sea, that’s just him telling you how you aren’t strong enough to care for yourself.

Jade wants you to realize that you aren’t capable of making it on your own, he’s your proof of it. Be sweet and let him pinch your cheeks for taking his procedures so well.

What a poor thing to sap on his abusive techniques, Jade wonders if you truly enjoy the attention, how far is it to love before you’re screaming for him to stop and let you go? Is it until what little is left of your self respect that has you begging for him to look at you? Jade is happy to do so, you’re so entertaining to have around!

Be aware, since Jade fully understands how you react to his actions he’ll have no issue stripping it away. Mommy didn’t praise you enough; so he won’t tell you how good you did for letting him dunk your head in water. Daddy never apologized after a fight; he won’t even leave you a note and remind you how undeserving you are to him.

Floyd Leech makes the most of it.

A darling that throws itself at him isn’t that bad, Floyd can make use of it. You’re just lucky you’re so cute and biteable. If you run for him and let him chase you it may last, catching him pent up to the point he wanted to rip your tendons isn’t though.

Floyd constantly calls for you when he wakes up, have you by his side when he sleeps. His attention is overwhelming, don’t go complaining this late, you’re far too gone the rabbit hole.

What other factors does it come with? Don’t be boring on him now, make Floyd work for it, make him confused, surprised, intrigued. Spice it up by hesitating when he questions if he can get inside your rib cage. Your face is the highlight of his day, shrimpy knows how to please him. Floyd will outright confess his gratitude for you, it’s him calling you out for your own unhealthy coping, down to each flaw and how it makes you more enjoyable.

He’s great at reading the room it’s just he doesn’t put that knowledge to use with you, whether you can put up with it during a long period of time Floyd is there to terrorize you until you had enough. He’s a hundred percent positive you would get fed up, having to live in fear he would get aggressive, or sweet, it depends.

With so many choices and your endless possibilities of a reaction Floyd is like a child receiving their first ever birthday gift. It’s new each time. It gives him something different to experiment, he’s not stopping yet before you get on your knees and beg him to leave you be.

Vil Schoenheit takes advantage of you.

This is exactly what Vil feared. He doesn’t know if he should enjoy this or correct you, not when you seek him out like he so badly wishes he can do. Vil envies you, if he didn’t have a reputation to uphold he would smother you to death with his unhealthy dose of love, you’ll like it.

Vil finds it hard to be rough with you, not getting on his nerves and you openly encourage him to do more. To be Vil’s comfort is embarrassingly giddy when he thinks of it at night, he was keen on the thought that he wouldn’t go so low to let you eat it. His attention that is. But stopping anytime soon is not easy, he can just eat you up for making him act like some rabid animal.

This means Vil can take out his frustration on you without you begging for him to kill you. A sane person would’ve insulted him till their last dying breath, that he’s a monster for even picking on the weak. Naturally, someone like you shudders at Vil’s remarks.

Vil wants YOU to be desperate for his attention, not the other way around. Treat him like a God, grovel on your knees and kiss him up. Don’t mind the way he discreetly rolls his eyes to the back of his head with a hand covering his mouth. His words are mean and untrue, pushing his heeled shoe on your head so you don’t look up at him. Not yet.

Who knows who’s gaining what in this situation. You’re getting what you wanted, and so is he, in a farther abnormal substance. Vil has your deprived mind in his greedy hands, directing you his reasons as to why he does things. Factually, someone like him shouldn’t have to explain to the likes of you.

Rook Hunt declares his innocence.

Rook would never hurt you! Everything he does is from the honesty of his heart, it’s not his fault you can’t take criticism. Oh but you do, you try to change and Rook notices that.

A tube of lipstick can do a lot on a person, once you listen on his advice Rook is smitten. The hurt in your eyes and the next day you’re looking up to him for approval. He sighs with a hand on his chin, it wouldn’t hurt to tell you that the color looked alright. You can always touch up on your brows once and a while you know. Rook loves this side of you. He loves every expression and attitude you throw his way, you make his time so enduring.

He’s always greeting you with open arms and grabby hands, burying his nose in your hair to take a deep inhale of your scent. You smell different, new shampoo? Or did you hang around another person? Rook will try to ignore the subtle threat in his gut, as much as he adores this quirky behavior of yours, letting you be used as a pawn isn’t in his favor. He can admire from afar but he’ll want the real thing with him sooner or later.

See, Rook isn’t like those viscous things. He can treat you just like them if you ask nicely. But he’s too busy grabbing your face and rubbing his cheeks against yours. “Your skin is a little oily”— while blushing madly, the thought of your dead skin cells are touching his makes him merry.

He’s gross, but don’t comment on it too often, can’t you appreciate his affection and kindness. He’s not tearing you apart after all, he can hold himself better! Rook wants to let himself be free with you, but doing so will make you run no matter how much you reassure him of your decision. For now, let him play with your emotions for a while, show him more of what you can give him. It’s fair.

Epel Felmier loves you to death.

Epel can suffer through it. You don’t know what you’re doing to him, giving him the thumbs up when he tugs at your hair to face his way. What a sicko!!

He won’t shy from it, a little, but he’s precise on his feelings. Whispering in your ear how disgusting you are for exploiting yourself to other men and women. You love the attention don’t you? Epel can provide that for you, he can do anything to prove to you that he’s better than the others. So stop looking at them and kiss him better as an apology if you wanna start…

Are you enjoying the attention or is he? Epel is clingier, his grip on your fingers hurt because he’s too busy announcing his future with you. A nice little thing waiting at his beck and call, allowing him to degrade you when his days are busy and rough. He’s going off, you’re not sure if you like the idea but it makes him happy. You need him happy or he’ll make sure you don’t get any sort of attention.

Epel needs to be in check, he’s still young about love and how it works. Since he’s so stubborn it’s difficult for anyone to tell him off, calling your partner a dumbass because you didn’t pick up his thick accent isn’t very nice.

Typically, he goes to his elders for help. Epel has a hunch that you being okay with all of this isn’t normal. They all tell him differently on how to handle you, make the best of it or be more strict in case you’re trying to trick him. Any type of lying is met with his fist to your gut…. He’ll give you a kiss on the cheek and apple slices as an apology once he finds out you actually love him back.

Erratic, one might say, Epel thinks with his heart than head, much like Deuce. He has a problem with controlling his emotions, it’s overwrought to be this depressing over you and himself. If you can survive Epel’s errors of ways he might just put a ring on that finger.

Idia Shroud bites more than he can handle.

Gwaah, you’re so miserable he has to look the other way at how embarrassing you are. Seriously, Idia is mean, sure, but that’s because you can’t stand up for yourself. Will he be able to? Only the future will tell, but he’ll just respond with the fact it didn’t happen so it’s not his problem.

All the yapping but he’s keeping you locked in his arms as he plays games for the next three hours. Pinching at your side to stop you from squirming, he reminds you that YOU wanted this. Idia personally believes that you accepting his weird behavior makes you a weirdo but 10x worse, in reality he’s stabbing his nails against the palms of his hands from exploding. His hair gives it away.

You’re not like a cat, a cat would hiss and scratch from all the abuse you’ve been through. Rather a wet dog that comes crawling with the hunger of love, no matter what kind. Even if that love hits you, tells you how little worth you are, it’s love in some way because he’s watching you through the cameras. You have to be teasing him for how many times you call out his name during your naps. He’s so glad you took in the plushies, your face is worth a shit ton once he gets Azul to bargain a pay.

Idia will deny you of attention, it’s so embarrassing to come up to him of all people. Don’t say weird things out loud in public will you? It freaks him out, he’s a loser at heart but that’s because he respects privacy (not yours though).

Behind closed doors he’ll gradually open up to you, it’s more than he can handle when you’re so eager to have him around. Idia will learn to enjoy the attention, it won’t soothe his heart nor the bursting of flames of his hair that tickles your skin every time you hug him after he degrades you. You’re going to be the death of him.

Malleus Draconia spoils you rotten.

Searching for that nasty push and shove isn’t on his list. Malleus, confused as to why you enjoy being bossed and thrown around like some ragdoll. If it makes you happy….he guess he can play along.

Malleus pays attention to your body language, what makes you squirm into his arms when he tells you he’d gauge your eyes out for looking at another person. Not that he would do so, he likes your eyes so much! Malleus prances around on your idea of the ideal relationship. You’re scraping whatever he gives you, Malleus is showing you all of it. He’s happy you feel the same.

He doesn’t correct you, because he himself doesn’t see the problem of the two of you, it’s love, let it be. With no one to tell him, Malleus is selfish of your free will. You always let him touch you, hold you, bruise you (accidentally). You’re practically letting him eat from your hand as he does with you, if you like getting hurt he’ll let his nails leave trails of scars on your back. But tell him you like it, he wants to know he’s doing good.

You won’t be needing anybody else’s attention but Malleus, he takes up most of your time and day. You’ll be taken with him at this point, that is if you willingly move in with him. Malleus grows more paranoid each day seeing that you run around looking for more, greedy thing, he’ll hold back so much before locking you up forever.

Praise him. Malleus returns everything you do, all met with luxury as long as you stay by his side. If you stop responding to him he isn’t a happy camper, look, look at him, do you want to get roughed up?? You won’t mouth a thing so he might as well show you how far his patience wears.

Lilia Vanrouge plays it like normally.

You bring something new to Lilia like a box of chocolates. Why wouldn’t you want his love, it’s all tease until he grows bored enough to put his hands on you.

Lilia juggles your inexperience self in a loop, he’s keeping you on your toes. He can’t scold you when you find it deserving, he wants you to know it’s intentional, being mean that is. Just because he’s looking you up and down doesn’t mean it’s good, no. Lilia will train your mind to recognize the difference of rewarding you for the sake of your sanity and punishing you for doing bad.

Don’t take his word for granted, Lilia absolutely loves it when you coddle up to him, you cling to his every word and do silly tricks without asking. Your oblivious nature to his cruelty entertains him, there isn’t any backing down or settling less once he takes notice of your questionable quirks. In fact Lilia is sure he’s seen these types of response before, poor things handed to the wrong people, as if he’d make himself better for your sake.

Getting a little too deep with your private background, Lilia is curious as to what makes you nostalgic. Were any of your parents present? Did they look over your achievements, your hobbies, the things you like and dislike to eat? Would you cry on his shoulder if he asked? Lilia wants all the answers, so he can see and mirror that exact moment. He’s just a little nicer about it, it’s all jokes remember that.

Silver makes you see differently.

You don’t find the time for the Silver haired man. He speaks to the animals and sleeps most of the time, there isn’t much to look for. Silver however, tries his best to stay awake when you come around. Looking more presentable and making small talk when you decide to speak to him and not his father or Sebek.

When you’re so used to it, you expect the worst to happen. Falling and breaking your nose, but Silver gracefully catches you before you fall. Like the fairytales you use to read as a child, it feels like a dream being held so gently and cared for. Silver would randomly send you notes from a dove, often times telling you how nice your hair looked or that your smile is pretty. Once consumed by the dirty look and pinches you’ll crave Silvers voice.

He bids you farewell on days you want to be left alone, to isolate and cry for hours. He waits patiently by your door with a nice homemade meal he learned from a book. Silver is the definition of comfort. You’re saying that probably because it’s genuine affection, not that you’ll know any better.

Your body is always somehow mangled or damaged, noticeable, yet Silver doesn’t berate you for letting it happen. Instead he takes your hands in his and pull them close to his mouth as he tells you to stay with him. He won’t let them hurt you. He promises. Promises are silly, but you couldn’t help but nod.

Silver will take what he knows from his father about love. If it meant locking hiding you for your sake then be it. You’re like danger magnet, Silver will defend you to the best of his capabilities. Your Prince Charming is all you could ask for, through the guilt he feels, stuck in his throat because he knows what he’s doing isn’t right. Your’e too far gone to see it, soon, he will too.

Sebek Zigvolt gives in to your delusions.

Clueless. Someone has to tell him in his face and maybe write it down, Sebek doesn’t read too well with humans oddity. Sebek does acknowledge your submissive character, he refuse to praise it though.

Going for him is super easy, Sebek is yelling most of the time and has his hands somewhere on you while he’s at it. No one butts in to stop him, he’s a little slow when you act all meek and agree without a hint of sarcasm. The irony of it. Sebek continuously falls for your trap, once he puts the pieces together you’re in for it.

At first he’s real smug about it, as expected you come to him of all people for attention, Sebek is great at socializing! Second, don’t forget who has the upper hand, he’ll dangle it around but the bait will fall in. Sebek tries to be the mastermind behind it, but he’s not successful enough if he keeps giving you exactly what you’re after. He slaps himself every time it happens, self control is important in a knight, so he stays by your side with the intention of ignoring you.

But that doesn’t work out, you make him so pissed he’s not even sure why!? Looking at him all needy, your scent is overwhelming too when was the last time you showered? (He deeply inhales whenever he gets the chance). You’re purposely trying to get him to fail his lesson. A lesson he made up entirely.

Doing nothing is something to him. Being near him is setting him off. He’s straightening his posture and giving you his best glare. And without thinking he’s opening his big fat mouth to lecture you,.

[screamingfromuz]

Hi there! I am reaching out because someone sent me a question about how to help Gazan civilians without accidentally helping Hamas or spreading more hate against Israelis. I honestly feel lost on this myself, but as far as I can tell you are someone who has done real activism in Israel. Do you have suggestions for diaspora Jews who want to help fight for peace?

So a small disclaimer to the Gaza problem. We have 2 main problems with getting aid into Gaza, the first is the limited amount of aid that is allowed in, sending more money cannot make it go in faster. Problem number 2 is that much of the physical aid ends in Hamas's hands or in the black market and there is nothing we can do with that. I have heard recommendations to wait and see who opens a field hospital on the Rafah border crossing, and donate to them. Despite that, here are some charities to help Palestinians both in and out of Gaza.

I will admit, most of my activism is focused on deradicalization on the Israeli side and solidarity work, so I had to ask around for some of those charities. Some of the groups I know of do not currently have an international donation link, so if I get more good ones, I'll make another post.

Gaza:

Medical aid for Palestinians-

Anera-

Doctors without borders-

Palestinians outside of Gaza and Peace movements:

Palestinian red Crescent- they also work in Gaza, but as the main source for Palestinian ambulances in the WB, I put them here.

mistaclim (Looking the occupation the the eye)- this group is helping to protect Palestinians from the illegal settlers

Keshet- this is a big one. they support Bedouin communities in normal times, and now they are working on getting bomb shelters to the unrecognized villages, and providing a mental health first aid line.

standing together- totally biased, as I am a member of this organization.

Women wage peace- a feminist based solidarity group

Haqel- they represents Palestinians in cases related to land ownership and access. there work is still ongoing even during the war

Center for Jewish non Violence - a diaspora org that also does a lot of work in the South Hebron Hills.

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.2

pt. 1 pt.3

TW: mention of rape, unprotected sex, drinking, blood, violence, angst

The liquor on his tongue didn’t even burn anymore; too much was already in his system, trying to wash down the events of this day. You were the love of his life, the woman he wanted to marry, even though he didn’t know how it would be legal for you to marry all of them. And now, he lost you. The worst part? He can't even remember how it happened. He felt so disgusted in himself in so many ways—disgusted for breaking your heart. God, your look, how you tried to keep your tears in check, broke him. And then his whole body felt disgusted; it felt like a layer of dirt he couldn’t wash away. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but it didn’t go away; the shame still lingered. It felt like someone had taken something from him, but it was his own fault. He must have said yes and bought those drinks. It was his own fault, he told himself over and over again. Normally, he would talk about this kind of stuff with you; you always knew what to say. But you hated him.

"‚‘nother on’," he said to the barkeeper. This was probably his sixth. Johnny knew how he could handle alcohol; he was never that pissed before to not remember a thing. And there she was, the medic, sitting down next to him.

"Hey, Johnny," she smiled brightly, like she didn’t have any worry in her life.

"I ken a dinnae whit yesterday happened bit tis ne'er aff tae happen again."

"Come on, you enjoyed it yesterday."

"I dinnae remember yesterday."

"What a shame."

He stood up, throwing some pounds on the table, wanting to leave, but she stopped him. "Come on, Johnny. I'll help you forget, make you feel at peace again."

"No."

"Then please, let me invite you for a drink as an apology," she smiled sweetly, pushing the drink towards me. Wait, how had she a drink prepared if she sat only for a minute next to me?

"No."

"Please, a drink won't kill you."

"I said no."

"Just one sip, Johnny, and I'll make you feel good how she never could."

"How come ye're sae persistent fur me tae dram this drink?"

"You're silly, Johnny. I'm just being nice," she looked panicked - weird.

While many people thought of him as someone who is just a silly guy who isn’t able to think properly, you told him all over again that he was so smart, smarter than all of them, if someone would just give him the chance to show. And right now, his brain implanted a sick thought on him. "Dinnae tell me ye put something in mah drink."

Her eyes widened. "Of course not," she mumbled.

"Don't lie to me," his hand immediately went to her throat , choking the truth out of her.

"Knockout drugs," she whispered. She was fighting for air as I let her go; the men in the pub already stood up trying to save the poor woman from getting abused by a man.

"You raped me." His shock hit deep; he always thought something like that wouldn’t happen to him. He was strong and able to protect himself. He was the guy who killed people, the youngest man in the SAS, the guy who beat up an officer because he touched a civi. But now, he was the victim.

"Have fun proving it. No one will believe that a tiny girl like me raped the big bad soldier," she laughed, and screamed for help. "Help, this man doesn’t take no for an answer," He was kicked out of the pub; his face was bloody from all the beating.

All he wanted was to reach you, ask your advice, be in the comfort of your arms, telling him all over again how he is a good man, how he is worth everything and not a dirty soldier. But you didn’t pick up; he came to the realization quickly; that no one would believe him.

**Soap:** Please tell me we used a condom.

**Medic:** ;)

Fuck.

————————————————————————————————-

4 am and you still couldn’t sleep; your head was full of thoughts. Why were you not good enough? Why did he do it? So, you made a thing your friends would kill you for. Calling John, you weren’t sure if he would pick up, but he did.

"What's wrong, love?" Source of habit, he thought.

"Why did you do this, John?" you sobbed.

"I didn't mean for it to happen; it was an accident."

"Then why didn't you say sorry?"

"Love."

"Don't fucking call me love. You cheated on me, and you didn't say sorry. You didn't run after me, you didn't apologize," your sobs broke his heart.

"I'm sorry; it was an accident."

"An accident is making a typo, not sticking your dick in a whore."

"I—"

"I hate you, John. I hate you so much," and you hung up. This wasn’t what you expected. Why doesn’t he feel guilty? Why are you not good enough? Why didn’t Simon say something? Why didn’t Kyle come here? Of course, you broke up, but why don’t they care?

If you only knew how Kyle was, blood-covered in the hospital, too many rookies in his way. How Simon was trying desperately to find Soap to see he didn't drink himself to death, and then he would come to you, he told him self all over again. And how the captain didn't leave his office, not even for food.

And how Soap went into John's office, trying to explain to him the truth, only to see a disarranged office, hands covered in blood after he tried to pick up the liquor he smashed at his wall. He never saw his captain so vulnerable, and if Soap didn’t know better, he would have sworn he saw tears.

"Captain, I—"

"You did already enough, MacTavish. Let me have at least one day to mourn over the loss of the love of my fucking life."

"Captain—"

"LEAVE," and he did, he crawled into his bed, knowing he lost everything in a day, the love of his life, his best friend Kyle, his captain, his pride, and safety, and not even Ghost was there.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

(quite) big (not so) bad wolves

pairing: bunny hybrid fem!reader x wolf hybrid!Seungcheol x wolf hybrid!Joshua x wolf hybrid!Mingyu (ft. fox hybrid!Yeji and fox hybrid!Wooyoung)

genre: smut, pwop. minors dni.

warnings: mentions of alcohol and medication, foursome, all of them are mean doms (especially shua), breeding (stay safe), face fucking, double penetration, knotting, knotfucking, manhandling, degradation, reader is a brat through and through, voyeurism, choking

word count: ~3.4k

summary: everyone is scared of the big bad wolf in fairytales - not you though. you love them a little too much for your own good.

Author’s note: writing break time is over hoes, back to business for good :D

nsfw taglist: @rosecult @bibinnieposts @ovai @littlemisssarcastic21 @tinkerbell460 @jonghyuns-husband @romromthedeer @y00nzin0 @llsiriusminorisll @booyouwhore17 @delicatewerewolfsoul @aliceu

special taglist (aka suffering): @smileysuh @lovelyhan @duhnova @himbocoups @junkissed @idyllic-ghost @flowerwonu @playmetheclassics​ @sluttyminghao​

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“It fucking stinks in here,” Yeji complains with a whine, “I know their hormones are through the roof but fuck, take a damn bath!”

“You’re saying this because you took two showers and poured an entire perfume bottle on you before we left,” you giggle, sipping on your cocktail.

“At least I can enjoy my cocktail without having to worry about heat meds.” 

“Yeah…Sure….,” you gulp down, feigning innocence. 

“Oh, you fucking slut.” Yeji pokes her cheek with her tongue, “You never took heat suppressants, did you?”

“Okay no I didn’t, so what?” You admit with a sassy glare.

“Well I hope I won’t end up all alone because your pussy decided to ditch me for some hybrid dick.” She clicks her glass with yours.

“I think the two-tone haired fox over there has a different opinion than yours,” you nod towards the approaching male.

“Good evening, ladies,” he smoothly enters the conversation while swirling his whiskey, “I take it there was an interesting topic under discussion?”

“Yeah, you,” Yeji blurts out without thinking, “Uh, I mean, shit-”

“It’s okay,” he laughs, swishing his silver marble colored tail, “I’m Wooyoung, by the way.”

“I’m Yeji and that’s my friend, Y/N-”

“Who is about to be left all alone,” you joke and your friend swats her tail at your leg with a dull thud.

“You saw right through me - but I guess it’s expected from someone like you,” Wooyoung comments.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Yeji raises her eyebrow in question.

“Despite looking cute and rather vulnerable, bunnies are highly intelligent.”

“Oh that’s what you mean - Although Y/N is pretty smart, bunny hybrid or not,” the female fox grins and she earns an affectionate glance from you.

“I appreciate the compliments, but I think the both of you have much better things to do,” you give them a knowing smile.

“Have fun, Y/N!” Yeji excitedly kisses your cheek before taking off with her newfound company.

“And stay away from the predators, bunny. If you know what I mean.” Wooyoung sends you a sly wink, making you roll your eyes dramatically.

“Aaaaand I’m all alone. Wonderful,” you sigh audibly, looking at your cocktail, “Welp, cheers to me, I guess.”

You take a look around the bar, your eyes scan the other patrons - some are alone like you, some are drinking with their friends and others are flirting with their dates.

"One Hennessy on rocks."

Your ears perk up at the smooth voice on your left and your nose is filled with a very attractive scent. You slowly turn your head towards the source of your current torture and you swear you feel yourself swooning over the handsome stranger.

Silky black hair, slicked back with a few strands falling down on his forehead. Smooth, doll-like skin and rosy lips tenderly touching the rim of the glass.

God, you really want to suck his dick.

"Take a picture, it will last longer." He breaks the silence without looking at you and your cheeks start heating up.

"Oh shit- I-"

"It's okay, I was just messing with you" he chuckles, "Mind if I sit here?"

"I mean, nobody's sitting here," you point to the empty seat next to you and he slides into it with one smooth move.

"Hi."

"Hey there."

"What's your name?"

"I'm Y/N. And you?"

"I'm Joshua. You have a pretty name." He takes a sip from his glass.

"Thank you. And you have a pretty face." You reply and mirror his movements.

"So…what brings you here, Y/N?"

"Just wanted to have a good time with my friend. What about you, Joshua?"

"Just wanted to have a good time without my friends," he laughs, "Where is your friend though?"

"Oh, she kinda ditched me for a fox guy - He was pretty though, not gonna lie."

"Ugh, foxes - Was never fond of them." He grimaces.

"Hey, that's my friend you're talking about!"

"Your friend is a fox hybrid?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with being friends with a fox?"

"Are you kidding me? You're a bunny hybrid!" Joshua laughs, "But then again, you're talking to me right now."

"You're so funny." You snort into your drink.

"Funny?"

"Just because you're a wolf hybrid doesn't mean you're the big bad wolf, you know."

Joshua lets out a deep chuckle and scoots close enough for his leg to touch yours. 

"Just because I'm being a gentleman right now doesn't mean I can't be the big bad wolf later." 

“Ooh, how scary.” You joke, drinking the rest of your alcohol.

“You’re teetering on a very dangerous edge, love.” Joshua’s tone drops a few octaves, accompanied by a barely there growl.

At this point, you’re certain you can feel your insides starting to get warm and squelchy. 

“You mentioned that you have friends, right?”

“Yeah. And what about it?”

“Are they wolves too?”

“Yeah, we live together. Are you interested in meeting them?” Joshua raises an eyebrow.

“Mm-hm. I bet they are very fun to hang out with.”

“Darling, are you seriously inviting yourself into a den full of alphas?”

“Maybe I am.” you grin and lean closer to him, crossing your legs.

"Bet I can take you and your friends' knots effortlessly."

Joshua lets out an evident growl and takes out his wallet, throwing a few bills on the counter.

"If your goal was to get laid tonight, congratulations, you're getting exactly that." He wraps his arm around your waist and brings you flush to his chest with a dull thud.

A giggle escapes your lips when you walk out of the club, a thin string of wetness hanging from your hole to your left thigh. 

"Is your house far from here?"

"Just a five minute walk from here," Joshua holds you close, "Scared you'll soak the pavement before we get there, baby bunny?"

You gasp when you hear his words, but you can't bring yourself to form a good rebuttal.

"Thought so. Now hop hop, little bunny."

"Fuck, it smells so nice in here." you half moan when Joshua presses you on the door and runs his canines over your neck.

"Is it you or your heat talking, darling?"

"Both."

"You're so cute, Y/N." Joshua smiles and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons, making your heart swell.

Suddenly, you hear two unfamiliar voices yelling from afar, probably bickering in a different bedroom. Your ears perk up and your nose goes wild, although Joshua doesn’t share the sentiment, judging from the sigh he lets out.

“Those idiots.”

“Your friends, I presume?”

“Yeah. And they don’t seem to be in a good-”

“Joshua fucking Hong!”

A very pissed off man slams the bedroom door shut and stomps his way towards you, nostrils visibly flaring.

“Seungcheol, I can explain-”

“Explain what? That you decided to bring over a girl who’s also a bunny hybrid? All while I’m fighting to keep Mingyu in check?”

“Um, excuse me, I’m right here and I can hear you, mister pissed off.” You wave your hands in front of the agitated man.

“I am fully aware of that,” he shifts his attention to you, “And my name is Choi Seungcheol, but I’m also very pissed off - Not your fault, though.”

“Can you at least tell us what’s going on?” Joshua butts into the conversation.

“Mingyu went into his rut earlier than he was supposed to.”

“Oh.” Joshua stands baffled.

“Is that all you have to say?! I’ve been trying my damn best to calm him and his goddamn dick down and the best thing you can say is ‘Oh’?” Seungcheol angrily huffs.

“Hey, you have absolutely no reason to shit on me because Mingyu is horny - Like, what am I even supposed to do, suck his dick?!” Joshua retorts.

You watch the two men bicker for a couple of seconds until you hear a door being slammed shut and your eyes go wide when you see the definition of tall, dark and handsome walking towards you, half naked and sweat dripping down his beefy chest.

“What the fuck are you two arguing about?” The man in question - this must be Mingyu, you think - lets out a groan, “Can’t a man suffer in rut in peace?”

“Now that’s an oxymoron,” Seungcheol rolls his eyes, “I’m sorry you had to witness this,” he turns his attention to you, “Can we make it up to you somehow?”

“I can definitely think of a way that will solve enough of our problems in the vicinity,” you bite your bottom lip, “Not to mention that Joshie and I have a bet going on.”

“That reminds me…” Joshua comes behind you and you yelp when he effortlessly picks you up and settles you down on the couch, immediately pulling you in his lap, “Baby bunny was quite bold back when we were talking in the bar.” He smooths his palms over your thighs and spreads them apart, exposing your naked cunt to the other two men.

“She even said she can effortlessly take all of our knots.”

Mingyu lets out an obscene growl as his cock twitches in his sweats and he does not hesitate to drop on his knees in front of you, his nose mere centimeters away from your pussy.

"What's your name, bunny?"

"Y-Y/N," you gulp down, more wetness dripping from your hole.

"Pretty name," Mingyu rasps, "Now I know what to moan when I'll fuck this bunnycunt with my knot," he licks a fat stripe from your entrance all the way to your clit with his tongue, savouring your juices like a famished animal (he's actually one).

"Be patient, Gyu," Joshua clicks his tongue as he fumbles with the belt of his jeans, taking out his flushed cock and rubbing the tip all over your pussy.

"Oh my God, stop teasing and just stick it in!" You whine pathetically.

"You're not fucking her pussy first, Shua," Mingyu flashes his sharp canines with a menacing snarl as he shoves his sweats down to his knees, cock slapping against his toned stomach.

"Fuck, your cock is fucking huge, Gyu," you nearly drool at the sight, "I really need you fuck me stupid."

"These two are so goddamn impatient," Seungcheol's voice is heard right across the couch and you notice him sitting down on a chair, thighs wide spread, hands relaxed on the armrests, "Wishing you luck, Shua."

"Hey, pretty bunny," Joshua caresses your jaw with his hand and turns your face towards him, "Have you ever tried anal before?" What a fucking stupid question.

You nod feverishly, your sanity slipping away when you feel Mingyu's bulbous tip stretching your hole as he pushes his cock in, your head rolling back on Joshua's shoulder from the overwhelming feeling of fullness.

"Of course you have - It stimulates your pretty lil' fluffy tail, doesn't it?" 

"Mm-hm," you clench around Mingyu's cock, "N-Now are you gonna fuck my ass or what?!"

"Babe, you need to be p-"

"Just put it in!" 

"Both of you shut the fuck up." Mingyu growls and picks up your thighs, pushing them flat against your chest. He starts hammering your pussy, setting a rough pace from the very beginning and you can only cling onto his thick forearms, tears stinging your eyes.

"This - this is what I needed, fuck," the man above you huffs and moans with each thrust he delivers, "Your pussy is fucking magic, Y/N."

In between your horny haze, a loud gasp escapes your lips as you feel you other hole being stretched out and you realize it's Joshua finally acting up and fucking you like you wanted to.

"She's so…tight, nngh," the older man groans when he thrusts his cock in your ass, wrapping his arms around your midriff for leverage, "Bunnies are really something else."

Your brain can barely register what the two wolves say, all you can focus on is the delicious stretch of their cocks and how full you feel.

"She's delirious," Seungcheol half-moans, his hands now busy with his own cock, eyes fixated on your body taking whatever his wolf friends are giving you - patiently waiting for his turn to ruin you.

“Fuck, I’m almost ready to knot her,” Mingyu hisses through his teeth, your whimpers growing louder each time his swollen knot prods at your hole, threatening to push into you any second now.

“Please knot me, Gyu, pretty please!” You whine and dig your nails in his tanned forearms.

“You want him to knot you, darling?” Joshua snickers in your ear as he fucks your other hole from beneath, “Are you sure you can take his big, bad wolf knot in your tiny little bunnycunt?”

“She can and she will,” Seungcheol growls from the other end of the living room, his hand fisting his already swelling knot, “There are three wolves in this house and my patience is running thin.”

You opt to open your mouth and talk back, but it all dies down in a silent moan when Mingyu finally pushes his entire knot in your heat, an evident bulge forming in your tummy - all thanks to his size. The man licks his lips with an obscene sound when he takes out his entire cock, only to slam it back into you with full force.

“M-Min-gyu, s-shit! I’m gonna cum!” You scream and arch your back off Joshua’s torso, but his arms keep you locked flush to him, tears streaming down your cheeks from feeling full to the brim. 

“Aw, is the pretty little bunny crying already?” The older man gives you a pout of fake sympathy as he pushes his own knot in your ass without a warning and cums in you with a loud snarl, “And here I thought - fuck - that you could actually take our knots without a hitch,” he licks the tears off your left cheek, “You dumb little bunny whore.”

“I c-can t-take anything you g-guys will give me, I p-promise!” You sob between moans as Mingyu keeps hammering his knot in your swollen pussy, his nails digging into your soft skin.

“Oh really, bunny? Then how about this?” The man above you effortlessly lifts you up by gripping your waist, ripping you away from Joshua in an instant. He holds you in the air as if you’re a doll made of cotton and he fucks you as fast as he can, using you like a fleshlight. 

“You have the best pussy I’ve ever fucked, Y/N,” he rasps, knot starting to twitch in your cunt, “And I’m gonna treat it with a nice, fat load in it.”

“Pleasepleaseplease give me you cum, Gyu, fuck my bunnycunt full of your pups!” You wrap your legs around Mingyu’s waist, clinging onto him as if your life depends on it. 

The wolf hybrid buries his face in the crook of your neck as he cums, knot finally plugging you up to make sure every single drop stays in your cunt. You squirm in Mingyu’s arms from sensitivity, fresh tears of bliss staining your cheeks as you cum around his knot and squeeze him even tighter.

“Desperate lil’ cockslut, aren’t you?” He peers down on you through his thick black curls, “Cheol hasn’t even fucked you yet, doll.”

“I-I can take h-him too,” you croak out, “J-Just stuff me full already, please!”

Seungcheol gets up from his seat and discards his t-shirt, coming right behind you. His calloused hands caress the swell of your ass and they climb higher and higher, until they reach your chest. He slides your dress down to your waist, letting your tits bounce freely.

“Can’t believe you idiots didn’t take her dress off,” he clicks his tongue in annoyance while fondling with your tits, “Such a pretty little thing for us to enjoy all night long.”

“C-Cheol-”

“You’ve been running that mouth of yours all night long, haven’t you?” He grips your jaw.

“You have no fucking idea, Cheol.” Joshua sighs from the couch, jerking himself off at the sight of you being held in the air like a rag doll.

“Gyu, hold her waist. Tight.” Seungcheol orders the younger wolf and the latters lets out a snarl, but obeys either way. With one swift move, Seungcheol brings you backwards on eye-level with his cock, gripping your arms with his big hands.

“Have you ever sucked off a wolf hybrid before, bunny?”

“H-How hard can it be-”

“It ain’t your regular dick, sweetheart,” the older man rubs his swollen shaft over your cheeks, “That’s a wolf’s knot you’re about to take down your throat.”

“J-Just fuck my throat then, Cheollie!” You moan and pout your lips, eagerly kissing and licking his shaft to tease him.

“You’re one hungry little bunny.” Seungcheol chuckles and pushes his shaft into your mouth, a small gagging noise echoing in the living room as you try to fit his cock in your throat.

“Shit, she’s taking it like a champ,” Mingyu moans at the sight of your throat bulging around Seungcheol’s cock, “I could cum again from this.”

“God, I always forget how annoying you are when you’re in your rut,” the oldest scoffs and starts thrusting into your mouth with brute force, saliva starting to drip from the corners of your lips. Your eyes roll in the back of your skull, pussy clenching around Mingyu’s knot for the umpteenth time.

“Holy fuck, Y/N,” Joshua moans from afar, hand speeding up on his cock, “You better wreck the shit out of her, both of you, fuck!”

“Hear that, darling bunny? Joshie wants us to fuck the shit out of you,” Seungcheol laughs and flashes his sharp canines, “Good thing I was planning to do exactly that.”

He puts one hand on your throat, the other gripping your arm and he rams his cock down your throat, your tits bouncing from the force of his thrusts. You can only moan and whine around his veiny shaft, still stuck on Mingyu’s fat knot.

“I’ve wanted to stuff your pretty little mouth ever since you stepped into our apartment,” Seungcheol growls, “Mess up your glossy, puffy lips and make you cry from my cock - But you’re a greedy little slut who wanted to fuck my friends first.”

You wish you could talk back to him and rile him up even more, but he’s right in everything he says and you have zero regrets.

“Shit, I’m about to knot,” Seungcheol moans, “I’m gonna knot your bratty little mouth, bunny, hope you have big lungs.”

Your eyes go wide when he pushes your knot in your mouth, locking himself in place to cum straight down your throat, trying your best to swallow all of his cum. As if on cue, Mingyu’s knot finally softens and slips out of you, your pussy overflowing with his thick load.

You dig your nails into Seungcheol’s thighs, your oxygen running low, but he gets the hint and carefully removes his knot out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe.

“Fuck -cough- shit! Why the fuck are you so -cough- big?!” You try to regain your composure, body still shaking from your orgasms.

“Told you, sweetheart,” Joshua stands up from the couch, sweaty and sticky from his own orgasm, cum staining his abs, “Wolves are just built differently.” He swiftly gets between the two other men and carries you bridal style, rolling his eyes when he notices Mingyu plopping on the couch tiredly.

“That…was the best dicking I’ve ever experienced,” you mumble in your post-sex haze, “Even if I feel sore everywhere.”

“I don’t think it would have been the best dicking if you weren’t a tiny bit sore, bunny.” Joshua laughs and his eyes morph into the same crescent moons you first noticed back in the bar.

“Um, Josh? Where are you taking me?”

“To the bathroom, silly! You need a serious shower right now.”

“As if you don’t need one.” You snort.

“Cheol is right, you have a really bratty mouth.”

yeji🦊: y/n where tf are u??

yeji🦊 : girl i’ve been calling you for ages

yeji🦊 : Y/N L/N ANSWER UR GODDAMN PHONE

y/n🐇: hey bae 

y/n🐇 : sry for going mia but i’m okay!!

yeji🦊 : okay as in??

y/n🐇 : getting the best dicks in my life 

yeji🦊 : hold tf up- DICKS??

yeji🦊 : HOW MANY GUYS DID YOU FUCK YOU BITCH-

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

From love and life

a/n I feel like we might need some good old fluffy fluff with a tiny bit of angst. So enjoy! Any sort of interaction is so so so appreciated!🤍🫧

summary: you're heavily pregnant but your medical assistant is needed in a close by town. Emotions run high and a little someone decides to make an appearance, just the timing is not ideal.

Can be read as a part two to A slice of paradise but this is a standalone

warnings: pregnancy, birth descriptions, complicated delivery, blood, yeah...

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The kitchen was dim. The only source of light was the lamp that stood in the living room. The record player lightly filled the space with old tunes as you and Joel swayed in the middle of the kitchen. It was such a rear moment lately. There was so much going on that you two hardly spent time together. Well, now that Joel was refusing to do patrol, he was way more present and even more nagging on your pregnancy brain. Even if it came from the love that he felt for you and the baby, you wish he worried less. But then again, it was easier said than done.

Your arms were lazily draped over your lover's shoulders, head nestled into his chest. Joel's grip on your body was tender. Wearier of you falling by accident, so one of his hands was firmly supporting your back, the other lovingly cupping the side of your bump. As if he were including the babe in your little nighty dance as well. Humming the tune as you two twisted and turned. There was so much love at this moment. So much attentiveness. So much reassurance. That you were in this together. That evening was going to be okay.

Even in Jackson, it was scary to bring a baby into this world. It felt so fragile. In the beginning, it made you feel selfish that you even considered conceiving in circumstances like this. But then there was nothing more that you wanted. You wanted to make Joel a father again. Even if Ellie was your baby girl as it was. You just wanted to give him a chance to raise another one. Because you knew that the fatherly love that he had was endless.

"Sofie?", Joel muttered into the nothingness of the room, and you peeled your head off his chest, shaking your head, "No, no, that's what my neighbor back in Texas was called; she was a.. well, a whore". Joel chuckled slightly and said, "Okay, Sofie gets the chop then". This had been going on for some time now. You two didn't fuss about names at the beginning, but now that you could go into labor in a matter of days, it had become quite a headache. Ellie had presented you with lists of names for both genders. She was excited to become a sister. Well, when her doubts about actually being a part of this family didn't cloud her mind. In all honesty, Ellie's reaction to the news was way more positive than you imagined it to be. The last thing you wanted was for her to feel like she was suddenly losing her rights as your and Joel's daughter.

"What about Margo?", Joel said, hands resting on your sides now, as you two continued to sway. Something in your stomach almost flusters at the sound of that, and that sensation was quickly followed by a strong kick. Joel's face quickly turned into a pleased smirk. You opened your mouth, but Joel only shook his head, "You don't even have to answer darling, our baby girl agrees," you rolled your eyes at him, "You don't even know if it's a girl," "I do she just picked her name". His hands moved to lift the shirt you were wearing. One of Joel's shirts. Both for comfort and also because it smelled like him—that's what you told Joel when he first saw you in it. Plus, at this point, almost nothing fitted you. And not all occasions were fitting for a flowy dress, even if it made the bump look adorable.

Joel's tender findings rubbed your big bump, "You're a smart little one. You like Margo, Margo Miller, huh?" Joel's attention was fully on the baby now. A baby who was happily kicking inside your tummy. A baby that mostly only kicked for Joel. Already daddy's girl or boy. The bond they built was mind-blowing to you. But then again it didn't surprise you. Joel was by your side as much as he could. He talked, sang, and read stories to the bump almost every night. Not a morning was missed without kisses. This was another source of the proposal for Joel.

"Hate to interrupt you both, but I need a snack", you mumbled, brushing some of the hair from Joel's forehead away, "You are free to continue this upstairs, and you'll be much cozier in bed; bending like that will do a number on your back". Joel looked up at you, pretending to be utterly offended by your words, "Are you calling me old?", "I'm calling it snack break that leads to bed break", you gave him a bright smile before turning to search for a jar of pickles. Joel watched you happily munching, a proud smile on his face.

You were wobbling around the kitchen, adding refills of eggs and pancakes to Ellie's plate, when you heard a knock on the door. Joel was quick to move the chair, but you placed a hand on his shoulder, mumbling a quick I got this before moving towards it. "Tommy?", it came out more surprised than it should have, but then again, he rarely came by so early and in the middle of the week as well. The younger Miller glanced towards Joel. Swallowing worriedly, you could feel a sense of dread there. "Did something happen?", you asked, moving to rest your hand on his upper arm. Tommy exhaled carefully, "You might want to kill me, but let me…", "Get to it", Joel said firmly, not breaking eye contact with his brother. "There's an emergency in the nearby town. They don't have a medic good enough", Tommy's eyes were on you now, but Joel cut in firmly, "No".

You speared him no mind though, asking, "What happened?". You had been a medic before the outbreak. It had always been your passion, not just a job. So even the fact that the world fell apart didn't stop you from wanting to help those in need. "I'm not sure, but it's a boy, and he's five at best", he continued, but Joel shook his head. "Don't try to guilt-trip her", "Joel", you warned your lover firmly. "I'm not, but you don't have to; maybe you could just talk to them on the radio?" This had to be serious if Tommy was here in the first place. And the look on his face clearly showed that the morning hasn't been easy for him.

"Get the horses ready", you said softly, "Over my dead body are you riding", Joel was up and walking towards you now. "Rode, you just the other night didn't seem to complain then", you bit back, shooting him an angry look. Ellie snorted while keeping her head down, trying not to catch too much attention, but Joel's glare still landed on her. Messing with Joel in moments like this was dangerous. This man loved his family more than he loved his life. Nothing could stand in his way. And the one who tried never survived long.

"Y/N", he said firmly, "Joel", you repeated the manner. "You're eight months pregnant; this is out of the question", he tried to reason, but in the same way as him, you were stubborn. And if you set your mind on something, making you back away was almost impossible. "You are free to stay, old man", turning to Tommy, you nodded quickly, "Go, get them ready for me, will ya?". Tommy nodded and wasted no time as he slipped out of the house. He knew that Joel's scolding would come sooner or later, but for now, he was thankful to be off the hook.

"Love", Joel's tone was smoother and calm now, as he reached for your arms. You understood his worries, and yes, you were close to giving birth, but the ride was not that long, and you felt just fine. "Joel, I ain't leaving that kid to die", His jaw tightened as he searched your eyes. Now silently pleading for you to skip this one. "You're coming along or staying here?", Joel just shook his head, still frustrated, but he said nothing. Moving towards the stairs to pack a light backpack You knew the frustration would wear off eventually. With time.

"Can I join?", Ellie's voice made you turn to her. "If you want to", you told her. The area was safe and closely monitored. The trade roads were extremely important. At times, exchanging supplies was a crucial part of surviving. "Cool family trip! Like the old days", Ellie chirped. You couldn't help but crack a smile at it. It was quite a trip you all had. Coming to Jackson wasn't easy. It seemed like forever ago now. Yet the incidents lingered in the back of your mind. It still felt too good at times. Well, even the fact that you were pregnant now was a clear indication of how everything had changed. Back in QZ you and Joel were extremely careful. To get pregnant, there was a way to end up in a grave. Here in Jackson, however, it was more than possible.

The boy had an open fracture in his shoulder. A lucky one. An inch lower, and it would have pierced his heart. He was in a critical condition when you got there, but you didn't let your mind slip even for a second. Calm and collected. Not the slightest shake of your fingers. Only when he was laying in between the clean sheets did you let your mind slip, hand resting on your bump as you watched his chest move up and down. The sound of his mother's cries still swirling in your brain. How easy was it to lose someone you loved? Didn't need to be infected even. Anything could happen.

A hand that slipped on your shoulder made you jump. You turned to your side upon seeing Joel there. Your body instantly eased. Joel was scared the whole time you were in the operating room. He didn't move from the little window. Eyes watching you as you worked. Every minute that you stayed up on your feet made him more and more tense. This wasn't okay. You were too far along in your pregnancy to operate for three hours. Your body needed rest, not this. Only now did you realize how tired you were. But you couldn't show it. No, Joel would worry too much, and this was already far too much worrying for one day. So you squeezed his hand firmly before standing up.

You and Ellie were walking through the forest. Well, you were wobbling. Walking properly wasn't an option any longer. Joel was behind you both once again, keeping a close eye on you. You suggested you walked for a bit midway through the ride. Joel gave you a questionable look but nodded his head regardless. "So they just grow like this?", asked Ellie, looking at the bush that was covered in blueberries. You nodded your head, "They do. As a kid, I loved going into the forest to pick berries". It's been quite sometime now that she was a part of your life, but no matter how many stories you told her, Ellie still found things that surprised her.

You encouraged her to reach for the berry. Watching as her eyes gaped as the sweet taste hit her tongue. "Can we get some and make a pie or something?", she asked as she reached for another handful. You smiled at her softly, "Of course we ca-ahh,", you crunched forward. Bracing yourself on the tree that was by your side. Joel's steps picked up as he moved closer to you. Ellie's big eyes watched you. "Mom,", she asked worriedly, even if the tight look on your face eased. Joel's fingers wrapped around your forearms, steadying you. "It's nothing, guys; no one needs to worry", you said. Cupping the material of the long fabric beneath your bump for extra support. "You should sit down for a minute", Joel looked around, trying to find a place for you to rest somewhat comfortably.

"There's no need", you tried to sound calm, but another wave of pain hit you, making you grip Joel's hands. Ellie looked at Joel now. Worry seeped through her because even if she knew little about things like this, it didn't seem like nothing to her. "Y/N…", Joel rasped out himself, trying to undress what was happening. But you knew this wasn't nothing. Because you began to feel strange the moment you arrived in the nearby town. Then the pain picked up during the operation, but you were able to breathe through it. It didn't bother you all too much. You were sure you were good once it eased, but then you couldn't seem to sit on the horse as the pressure and pain increased. You knew this was something more.

"Don't get mad", you said through gritted teeth as the pain slowly eased, "I just… I felt", but it seemed like your baby was more than eager to do the speaking for itself as a warm trickle of liquid started to slowly trail down your legs. The material of your dress dampened. Another breathy exhale caught in your throat as you hissed. Joel moved an arm around your middle, "I fucking told you, shit", "Don't be like that", Ellie warned him quickly. Stress was not what you needed now, yet Joel didn't budge, "Like what? We're in the middle of the woods, and Y/N's water just broke". "Joel," you cried out in pain once more, both hands holding onto your tight stomach as even more liquid rushed down your legs.

"Fuck okay, come here", Joel told you, but you didn't want him to pick you up. "Dad ", Ellie rasped out, "It's okay, everything's okay, we'll figure this out". Joel wasn't sure if he believed it, but he had to. Someone had to. "Can you sit on a horse?", he questioned, but you shook your head straight away. His mind was blanking out for him. Heart racing. This was not how you were supposed to give birth. "I saw a cabin on the way here. It… was just over the valley", Ellie spoke up again, Joel nodded his head. This was the best chance you had because there was no way he was getting you to Jackson in time, "Lead the way, kiddo".

Joel lowered you just by the patio. He needed to go in first and make sure there was no one there. No infected, no raiders. That it was safe. Ellie felt like she was going to grow gray as she watched you grip the railing. She had seen Joe getting stabbed; she had been through so much shit. Put bullets through people's heads, but somehow nothing compares to this and the fear of losing you. "Hey, look at me", you caught Ellie's hand, "It's going to be okay", you rubbed your finger over her palm. "But what if you or the baby… we have no proper…", she rambled on, "Ellie, darling, it's okay". You could only imagine how scary this seemed to her. Considering that she had never seen anyone in a position like this.

"Your sibling is just slightly more excited to meet you", you chuckled slightly, and a little smile broke onto her face as well. "I'd rather she stayed in your stomach till we returned". You hummed at her words, "Funny thing about babies is they don't listen". She breathed with you through the next contraction. Doing and saying the things that she heard Joel say while you were making your way here. "Mom?", Ellie questioned once more as your face eased, "Everything will be okay, right?", you gave her the best smile you could manage, "Of course, babe."

But everything was far from being great. Joel had pulled an old mattress from the other room and placed it next to the fire that was burning in the fireplace. Ellie was anxiously changing the cold, wet cloth on your forehead as you panted rapidly, holding onto Joel's hand. They both felt helpless. Not sure how to soothe or help. The pain was evident on your face, and if at the start you could still speak between the sharp shooting daggers that ripped through you, now it seemed that you barely managed to even take a breath in between them.

Joel moved so he was kneeling between your parted legs. "Breath, love, you need to take proper breaths", his hand moved up and down your thigh, "Remember how we practiced?", you weakly nodded your head, "Of course you do, you're a trooper", "You need to check me," your hand moved towards your thigh. Joel shrugged off his jacket, quickly rolling up his sleeves. You probably would have told him how good he looked like this. But unfortunately for you, the pain was now the center of your consciousness. Joel gave you one more look as if he was asking for permission, and his hand slipped between your legs. "I feel it. I feel the head", he said firmly, and you nodded your head.

The progress was slow, or more like there was none. Your breathing grew more and more labored, yet no matter how much you pushed, it seemed to lead you nowhere, and the energy was slowly starting to leave your body. "Something isn't right", you muttered after another wave had eased. You had started to shake slightly. "What do you mean?", Joel asked you worryingly. Suddenly it all becomes awfully real to Joel. You could easily die. This could easily lead to him to losing you both. And with the amount of blood on the white material… Joel didn't need to have a medical education to know that this wasn't right.

"Tell me what to do", he tried to meet your eyes, but they seemed frantic. The panic was more than discouraging. No, Joel wasn't going to lose you both. That wasn't an option. "Y/N, look at me," he said as he moved closer to you, "We're going to do this". Joel turned to Ellie briefly, "You think you could find your way back to Jackson, kiddo?" Ellie nodded her head rapidly. She had helped as much as she could. Joel tried to keep her away from the blood, but he could do nothing about the screams and clear agony that you were in. "Okay, you need to go get the midwife and Tommy here", Ellie only managed to nod again. She was shaky and scared. But then again, in the same way as Joel, she couldn't lose you. With one last look at you, Ellie darted out, nearly falling off the stairs as she reached for the horse.

"Help me up. The gravity….", you muttered. Joel reached for your hands, pulling you up, before moving to stand against your back. You were all covered in sweat. Your lower half was drenched. You could feel the blood drying on your thighs and cracking as you moved. Please, you thought to yourself. If this went on any further, you were going to faint. Your body felt heavy. You could barely hold onto your knees as you pushed.

"I don't think I can…", you whispered, once Joel helped you to your knees. "Of course, you can", Joel said firmly, but you still shook your head, "This is my fault". But this time Joel cupped your face, making you look at him, "We're bringing this baby into the world, and you two will be just fine. I've got you. I'm with you. I believe in you" he said, leaning his forehead onto your damp one. Joel took a moment to breathe. You needed him to be strong now. He needed to be your rock.

You pushed and pushed, and minutes melted into what felt like endless nothingness. Joel's voice guided you through it all. You had no clue how he managed it, but he was holding onto one of your legs, giving you extra support to press onto something as you pushed. While the other occasionally slipped behind you, to help you push up. "Come on, one more, mama. One more", Joel's hand rested behind the infant's head as he looked back up at you, "Give me one big one, and we'll be a family of four". You did just that. With a deep breath, you pushed with all that you had left. Yet another scream ripped past your lips, and the pressure suddenly eased as your head fell back onto the mattress.

Joel quickly pulled the baby up as the loudest cry filled the living room. He couldn't help a smile; he couldn't help the tears that filled his eyes. Joel reached for his jacket, quickly wrapping the babe in it, and rocking it gently. "Hello, gorgeous, look at your cries", he cooed at the newest Miller for a moment before his eyes moved up to look at your tired face that was now covered in tears as well. "So…", you trailed off as Joel leaned over to you so he could rest the baby on your chest. "Dad had a good intuition", he teased, and you felt another wave of tears coming. "A girl", you muttered, looking down at the pruny baby in your arms. "Oh, you sweet angel", your finger carefully traced her cheek, "As stubborn as her mom too". Joel moved behind you, making sure that you were comfortable as you rested against his chest. "She has your eyes", you muttered, looking up at your lover, who looked down at you lovingly. "Can you believe that we made her?", he asked. You shook your head, "I'm still mortified that this is a dream".

The sudden noises outside made you both perk up. Joel reached for the gun, pointing it straight at the door. Just as breathless Ellie fell into the room. Behind her, a dark-haired lady rushed into the living room. Smiling at the sight of the baby bundled up in your arms, "Look at you three, good job, and congratulations". Lydia was the main midwife in Jackson. She cupped your cheeks, stealing a glance at the baby before moving to look at the mattress.

"Check her first, Lydia,", you asked her, but the lady only shook her head, "No, darling girl, you're still bleeding, and the baby with lungs like that is more than healthy". You wanted to argue, but the chaos of the room suddenly made you feel dizzy. Your mouth went dry. "You two, baby, and Ellie, out of the room now", the midwife pointed quickly to the two Miller brothers. "What's going on?", Joel asked, yet no one answered him as Lydia pulled your body up and away from Joel. Only now did Joel see how pale you were. But Maria placed the baby into his arms before pushing them all out of the room.

Joel's worries didn't die. They were clouding his brain. You were fine just a moment ago. You talked and… But then he saw Ellie's big eyes searching the room. She looked so small. So lost and so scared. "El", Joel called out lovingly, making her snap her head towards him, "Want to see your sister?". A long-lost sparkle gleamed in Ellie's eyes. "A girl?", she muttered under her breath. "Margo. Unless your mom changes her mind", Ellie stepped closer, careful as ever. As if too big a step might harm the baby somehow. Her hands stayed by her side as she looked at the baby in Joel's arms. "She needs a bath", Ellie muttered, Joel laughed slightly, "Yeah, we can give her one after", she nodded, her eyes never leaving the infant.

"Can I… I don't have to", she trailed off, "Come here, make sure you support her head", Joel made room on the rundown sofa that was in the room they were rushing into. Ellie's arms were stiff. She stopped her breathing for a moment. "She's so tiny… Hi", the baby grasped onto her finger, making Ellie look up at Joel as if she was asking if this was okay, but he only smiled at her. "You reckon she knows who I am?", Ellie asked. Joel leaned in to kiss the side of her head. "After all the dance parties you had and the cookies you made? I think you are already best friends". Ellie nodded her head in approval, yet her eyes darted to the door and asked, "And mom?".

Here was where Joel didn't know what to say. He wanted to reassure her but he couldn't. Because he didn't know what was going on. What if you were dead? A cold shiver ran down his back. No, you couldn't. His chest started to grow heavy all of a sudden. But the door swung open, and Joel had stood up at lightning speed. "Lydia,", he called out, bracing himself for the worst, but the old lady just gave him a warm smile. "She lost a bit more blood, but everything is okay. She's all cleaned up; you three should head to her", Joel practically sank to the floor as those words filled his mind. Whoever was guarding him was working overtime. He turned to Ellie, but she was already walking through the door with Margo in her hands. "You did a good job", Lydia squeezed Joel's hand, "Go have some family time with your girls".

Ellie was nestled by your side, silent tears falling down her cheeks as you held her close. Joel stepped in as quietly as he could, but his eyes instantly found yours. You gave him a weak smile. You knew he could tell just how tired you were. "I'm so outnumbered by females now," he said as he sat down by your other side. Moving your hand to his lips as he kissed it. He nudged Ellie slightly, feeling even more ease slip through his body as she giggled. "You're destined to be a girl, dad", you muttered, running your hand up and down the baby's back as she started to fuss.

"I think someone's hungry", you said, trying to get more comfortable. Joel instantly stood up so he could pull you up slightly, reaching for a spear blanket before putting it behind the makeshift pillow. The suckling noises filled the space within seconds, as Margo happily latched on. Her tiny fist flexed in the air. Ellie instantly moved her finger for Margo to grasp; her tiny fingers wrapped around it, and her fussing eased as she ate.

Joel just watched you three, his hand resting on your thigh. This was both the scariest and most beautiful experience ever. He got to bring his baby girl into the world. He had missed Sarah's birth back then. Only got to see her wrapped up in a pink blanket hours later. It had eaten at him for years. He knew he wanted to be here this time. There was no doubt, and now, after everything, he thought that it couldn't have been more perfect.

"You're okay?", your fingers squeezed his thigh gently, making him turn to you. "Yeah, just thinking about how perfect you are and how much I love you all", you couldn't help but smile, mumbling a quick I love you back to him. It was Ellie who was struck by those words the most. She knew that you both loved her. You had told her that many times, but Joel had never directly spoken about it. "I love you all as well", she mumbled back. Joel glanced at her as he reached for her hand.

"You reckon we could all fit on this", you spoke up after a minute, already starting to feel tired again. "I take the left side", Ellie said quickly, once again moving closer to you. "Who said we're allowed to call dibs", Joel questioned teasingly. "You snooze, you lose", she stuck out her tongue as you brushed some of the hair away from her face. "There's plenty of space for everyone to get a cuddle", you said softly as Joel slipped behind you, your body melted into his tender chest. One of his hands sneaked behind yours so he could support Margo, who was still feasting. Joel pressed a kiss to your shoulder. Life had both taken away from him, but then gave him so much more. His other hand rested on Ellie's back protectively. This was both empowering and crippling at the same time. Between Joel's arms was his whole world. World that was made up of you three. His biggest treasure. His most prized possession.

[rileyslibrary]

thinking about: reader injuring themselves during training (literally the smallest paper cut) and ghost over-dramatically carrying them to the medics because they “can’t walk” <3 <3 <3

Hey anon, I really liked your request, so I decided to spice it up a little (not in a naughty way, but in the “I-too-was-in-the-mood-to-over-exaggerate-the-living-sh!t-out-of-it-just-like-Ghost” way). I hope you don’t mind. Here, *passes you the story the way grandmas give birthday money*

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It was a goddamn obstacle course, and a simple one at that. They called it “routine training,” aimed to remind soldiers like you of your fundamental training principles while keeping you physically fit and mentally sharp. You’ve done it many times before, so it shouldn’t be a problem now, right?

Wrong.

This time, Lt. Riley summoned you to serve as a role model for the recruits. “Show them how it’s done,” Ghost said in his deep voice, to which you agreed with a seemingly disinterested shrug. It was a cocky, arrogant shrug that you later regretted for many reasons—far more than the number of times you had run that obstacle course.

See, you’ve never practised with so many people looking at you. And although you’ve completed the course with your teammates before, you have never been asked to act as a “demonstrator” in front of a crowd of eager eyes. Eyes that stare at you right now, admiring the seasoned soldier standing before them, waiting to see how you’d perform the track. You were an expert in their minds, a higher-up, so you wanted to give it your best and finish it in record time, just like a proper master would—just like Ghost would like you to.

As Lt. Riley finishes briefing the soldiers, he redirects their attention towards you. You, in response, begin to stretch your neck, arms, and legs and nod at Ghost, signalling that you’re ready. He nods back and blows the whistle through his balaclava.

The obstacle course begins with a row of five walls, each more challenging than the last. Despite the increasing difficulty, you summon all your skills and athleticism, and with a combination of agility and strength, you clear each of the five walls. You turn to look at Ghost, who stands proudly with his hands crossed in front of his chest. Good job, you.

The next challenge is a mud pit with barbed wire on top. It’s challenging if you don’t know the technique, but that doesn’t apply to you since you’ve mastered it. You quickly move through the second course, sliding with your back to the ground and carefully avoiding the barbed wire. As you pull yourself out of the pit, you feel a slight scratch on your knee from the barbed wire, but that doesn’t affect your ability to complete the course.

With the second challenge behind you, you reach the final obstacle: a 10-metre rope with a bell at the top. Climbing the rope and ringing the bell marks the end of the track.

As you pull yourself up the rope, you can hear Ghost’s thundering voice in the background, desperate and distressed, as if the world is about to end. You see him waving you down, but you’re determined to reach the top and shake the bell before sliding down, victorious. Your landing may not be as graceful as you imagined it, since you fell on your back, but that doesn’t matter; you did everything perfectly. You shift your attention to the recruits, who are now looking at Ghost, drawn by his frantic sprint towards you, followed by his dramatic slide to the ground.

“MEDIC!” Ghost yells as he grabs your knee and inspects it, “SOLDIER DOWN!”

You look at your knee to discover the source of all this urgency: it’s a scratch, a teeny tiny one, caused by the barbed wire you just passed. There is blood, as you would expect from a fresh wound, but nothing that would require the services of a medical professional or the attention of a hundred recruits.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT MEDIC?” he repeats and clasps your head with both hands. “Shhhh,” he murmurs, “it’s okay; everything will be okay.”

“Everything is okay, Lieutenant,” you reassure him with your face squeezed between his hands.

But he hears none of it. He pulls down your lower eyelids, peering into your eyes to inspect God knows what. He then turns to face the crowd. ‘Someone call for the medic!’ he cries, shifting his gaze to you and caressing your hair. ‘The poor thing is talking nonsense.’

He removes his scarf and begins wiping the blood off your knee. He starts giving you an impromptu pep talk, saying things like, ‘I won’t let anything happen to you’ and ‘Remember, pain is just weakness leaving the body.’ Embarrassed by the attention, you lie on the ground and cover your face with your hands. So much for the triumphant finale of completing the task.

The medic rushes over, grasping your leg to examine the wound, but Ghost slaps their hand and warns him not to touch you.

“He can’t provide consultation, Lieutenant,” you explain as you throw your hands in the air. “You called for him; at least let him do his job.”

He considers it, then turns to the medic. “Perhaps it’s better if we take this inside,” he says, sweeping you up in his arms and cradling you as if you’re injured beyond repair.

You put your palm to your temple and hide your face in embarrassment as he carries you bridal-style through the sea of soldiers. He yells for them to let him through, and you apologise to the recruits, explaining that it’s nothing but a scratch.

“I can walk, you know,” you mumble at Ghost as you smile at the soldiers.

“Have you tried?” he asks.

“No, you didn’t let me.”

“Exactly,” he replies, “no need to risk it.”

You reach the medical facility, and he gently places you on the hospital bed.

“They need a tetanus shot,” he orders the medic. “They scratched themselves on the barbed wire.”

The medic carefully listens to Ghost’s instructions and nods. He asks him to step outside so he can proceed with the treatment.

“I’ll be behind that curtain if you need me,” he informs you and walks behind the partition.

As the medic checks your wound, Ghost peers through the curtain, assessing the procedure. He makes unnecessary comments to the medic, asking him if “he’s sure he’s doing it right,” and the doctor reminds him that “he’s been patching up soldiers for years now.”

“It’s okay, Ghost,” you shout, trying to diffuse the situation. “The medic knows what he’s doing; let him work in peace.” You turn to the medic and lower your voice. “I’m really sorry,” you whisper, and he chuckles.

“That’s alright,” he says, putting on his gloves. “That’s how the lieutenant is, you know: he wants to look tough, but when he cares about someone, he goes all out.”

“Is that it?” You ask and look at Ghost’s shadow at the partition, eagerly pacing back and forth.

“Trust me,” the medic whispers, “you’re lucky to have him on your side.”

“Huh. I never thought about it that way.” You contemplate, “If we involve him in the process, do you think it will help him relax and stop biting his nails through his covered mouth?”

The medic lets out another chuckle. “It’ll certainly help,” he admits, “but it’d be best if you did it.”

You nod and straighten up. “Hey, Lt.?” You ask, and he immediately pops out of the curtain.

“The medic is about to apply some alcohol solution on my knee, and he said it might hurt a little,” you explain. “Would you mind sitting next to me for support?” You ask and pat the bed,

Without giving it a second thought, Ghost hurries over and sits beside you. He takes your hand in his and looks you straight in the eyes.

“You’re safe,” he states and turns to the medic, who is trying to suppress a laugh, “let’s do this.”

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[redheadspark]

Lullaby

Summary - Azriel's mate gives birth, and Azriel's life is forever changed.

Author's note- I love the great response from the one-shot Trust, so I decided to write another little oneshot about Azriel, Reader, and little Alec on the day he was born! Enjoy

Azriel knew he was making tracks on the floor at this point, but there was no way he was going to stop now.  His mind was racing and his feet were carrying him.  Back and forth, back and forth.  His shadows were even trying to catch up with him as he was thinking all of the worst things that could happen.  The sun's early misting rain was outside the tall windows of The House of Wind, the howling wind from the tall mountains was heard sightly while Azriel was going back and forth in front of the tall windows.  On a good day, there would be a marvelous view of Velaris, but not today.

Not on the day his wife went into labor.

A strangled cry was heard behind the double doors, Azriel stopping at his pace as he heard your cry of pain and his eyes trained on the doors.  It’s been at least three hours since Madja arrived, bag in hand, and abruptly pushed Azriel out the door without a second glance.  Azriel wanted to be in there with you, to hold your hand and bring you comfort since he knew you were going to be in insane pain.  But then again, he would have to go against Madja who has had more medical and healing experience than anyone he has known in his life.  All he could now was wait, wait for either the best or the worst.

He made a plan for this day, when you were about 7 months along he wanted to make a concrete plan for the birth of his unborn child.  Others must have thought of him as insane since he had a detailed itinerary from where the birth would take place and with whom in attendance.  It was working out perfectly for him since he knew most of the Inner Circle would be a simple contact away if things went left.  Of course, Azriel wouldn’t want to think about the scenario if things might go wrong, but he had to since not everything would go according to plan.

Cassian and Nesta were on their honeymoon up in the mountains, and Elaine and Lucien were in Autumn Court, which left Rhysand, Feyre, and Nyx at the River House for some quality family time.  You and Azriel were requested to housesit the House of Wind for Cassian and Nesta while they were away, you both not minding staying in the large home for a few days while you were getting slower and slower in your walking.  As your stomach grew bigger by the day, Azriel’s worries for you were growing as well.

He knew the tales of Illyrian childbirth, how brutal it was, and how unmerciful it could be.  Some children were born stillborn, their little bodies were not able to handle the birth.  Many mothers died in childbirth, mainly because their bodies would give out from all the body would endure.  Your own mother died giving birth to you, robbing you of your time and love from your birth mother.  Azriel vowed to not let that happen to you, you were far too precious and too important for him to have taken away.  Being the main source of light in his very dark world, you brought him bountiful happiness and never ending love that he felt as though he never deserved.  

To think of a world without that love, without you, would kill Azriel.  

Rhysand talked with him a week before, sensing that Azriel was beyond worried and scared for both you and your child.  He sat Azriel down at your little home while you were napping, the pair of them sitting out on the front porch as Azriel was venting to him all that was on his mind.  Although he knew it was his burden to hold onto, Rhysand was someone safe for him to talk to.

“You cannot let these thoughts overwhelm you, Az,” Rhysand said to him as he watched Azriel with concern, “Those demons and nightmares you’re having will kill you from the inside out if you let it.  Your wife and child are going to be fine, and you will have your family,”

“How do you know?” Azriel asked in a mumble, Rhysand reaching over to tap his leg with his fingers.  Azriel’s hazel eyes were met with violet ones, along with a soft smile.

“Because you and your wife, my cousin, deserve to have a family.  You two deserve it more than anyone I know, and you will have it,”

Now you were in labor, your water breaking abruptly while you two were still sleeping in one of the guest rooms in The House of Wind, and Azriel could feel through the bond that you were struggling.  He felt the pain, so intense and almost mind-numbing, as well as uncertainty and a hint of fear.  It made him worry all the more, trying to communicate through the bond to you.

I’m here, baby.  I’m here He thought through the bond, hoping and praying to The Cauldron that you were okay from the otherside of the double doors.

Azriel….It hurts so bad, Az!  Your voice was in pain, almost struggling to speak as Azriel tried to remain calm.  

The sudden sound of wings was heard right outside the window, Azriel’s head snapping over to see none other than Rhysand and Feyre bursting through the doors that lead to the balcony.  He sighed in relief, seeing the High Lord and High Lady there for him and his wife. 

“Azriel, thank The Cauldron!  How is she doing?” Feyre asked, but another blood-curdling scream was heard from the room where you were in.  This scream was brutal, almost like torture.  Azriel squinted at the sound, it was almost painful for him too.  All three of them look, Azriel’s face growing pale as Rhysand clasped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  

“Let’s get you a drink,” he urged Azriel, about to pull him away and distract him when another cry was heard.  A new cry, smaller and yet distinct.  It made everyone in the room freeze in shock, Azriel’s eyes went wide as he was staring at the doors. 

It was the sound of a newborn baby.

Azriel’s heart was suddenly beating so fast that he felt it against his chest in a dull ache.  His hands were shaking and felt beyond clammy as the newborn cry was echoing from the room, but to him, it was a beautiful sound.  It was the sound of his child, coming into the world, was one of his new favorite sounds in the world.  

“Cauldron..” Rhysand said in relief as one of the doors swung open abruptly. 

“Shadowsinger, you better get in here!” It was Madja, and Azriel’s feet were moving before he realized.  He was gliding over, that’s how fast he was going, and once he made it past the open door, he stopped in shock from the sight.

You were perched in the bed, bathed in sweat with your long thick hair in a braid that was over your shoulder and the nightgown you wore in plastered against your body as blankets were bunched against your stomach and covering you from the hips down.  Towels were askew, some covered in blood, and others were perched in the massive tub of hot water that was near the bed.  Azriel breathed in the scents of blood and sweat, seeing you faintly smile at him from the bed as Madja walked over to him with a bundle in her arms.   His heart raced, his eyes were solely on the bundle that was wiggling.

“Here is your son,” Madja said to him as she placed the bundle in Azriel’s shaking arms.  He lost his breath, looking at the small little being that was there and that was wiggling.  Nothing else ceased to exist to him, nothing else was coming to his mind, and everything was blank and empty.  All of his months of worry and wonder, of hope and uncertainty, were replaced by seeing the newborn.

His newborn.  His son.  Azriel had a son.

“You tend to him as I tend to your wife,” Madja said in a huff, walking away from Azriel before he could say anything to her.  He tore his eyes away from his son to you, seeing you grimace a bit while Madja was digging through her bag that was on the nightstand.  His concern grew.

“I-Is she alright?” He asked in a croak, about to walk over to you before Madja pulled out new herbs and tonics.

“Worn to the bone but healthy.  You have a strong wife, Shadowinger, and your babe is just as strong as she is,” Madja explained as she mixed some herbs together with ease, “She’ll need to get clean and have plenty of rest, but nothing else to worry about.”

“Thank you, Madja,” you said in a breath as she handed you a concoction to drink.  Azriel was relieved to know that you were safe and unharmed, feeling through the bond that you too were relieved and happy.  His heart was filled from the sight of you alive, though he was interrupted by the gurgles and coos from his son.  He tore his eyes from you back to your son. 

He was so small in Azriel’s embrace, but he was instantly in love with the little boy.  The tan skin, the dark mop of hair on his head, and the very small set of wings that were along the tiny backside.  There was no blemish on the little one that Azriel could see, the round cheeks he had along with the eyelashes and the plump bell-shaped lips.  Everything about this baby, this little being that was a mixture of Azriel and his mate, it was all perfect.  Azriel never saw a more beautiful creature in his life, and he couldn’t help but feel fresh tears in his Spymaster orbs.

This moment was new etched in his mind, a massive and pure memory that he knew he would never forget in his lifetime.  There were plenty of moments in his past, both good and bad, that he would remember from time to time.  His softer memories with his mother, meeting Cassian and Rhysand for the first time, Seeing your blue eyes and falling in love with you, your first kiss together under the stars.  Those memories were core to him, they helped him come out of the darkness and into the light that was always waiting for him.

And now, the new core memory of holding his newborn son would forever change him.  

Azriel carefully traced his son’s cheek with one of his scarred fingers, seeing how instantly his son was calm and content from the touch of his father.  It made Azriel’s heart soar, watching his son almost nuzzle into the touch with ease as Madja hummed and walked over to him with waiting hands. 

“There, now let me have the babe and check him thoroughly.  You tend to your wife and get her changed,” Madja instructed, Azriel reluctantly handing his son back over, “I’ll need to check his wings if they were damaged from the birth.  But by the color of him and his cries, he seems to be healthy. “

With a heavy heart, Azriel moved away from his son and Madja, who walked over to the end of the bed that wasn’t messed with blankets.  His eyes stayed on the child, though he moved over to you as you were waiting for him with an outstretched hand.  Azriel took it, kissing the back of it and sighing in relief seeing color on your face and a grin to match.

“Thank Cauldron you’re alright,” he said in relief, sighing in your sweaty hair as he embraced you carefully on the bed.  You held him close,  breathing in his scent as he peppered your face with kisses and his tears hitting your cheeks, “I was thinking the worst…and I felt it in the bond,”

“It was worth it,” you sighed as he pulled away and watched you, “Every single amount of pain I felt was worth it…he was worth it all,”

You both heard the gurgles from your son, Madja checking his temperature and then looking over his limbs.  Azriel could see the small wings that looked so fresh and new along the tan backside.  They were so small, but he knew deep down that over time they would be massive and filled with strength.  

Just like his parents.

“Come on, baby.  Let’s get you a shower,” Azriel urged as he helped you swing your legs over the side of the bed.  With an arm along your backside, he helped you on your feet.  You were still sore, though it was slowly melting away thanks to both the tonics from Madja and your own Illyrian strength.  You were still taking your time to the bathroom that was attached to the room, the House instantly turned on the shower with the right temperature and pressure.  

Azriel helped you strip down and eased you into the shower first before he stripped down and joined you.  Although intimate, given the two of you bare and holding one another under the water, it felt more than that for you two.  It felt like another chapter was unfolding for you both Azriel was washing you down with gentleness and care, another stepping stone in your life that you both would take together while he washed your hair with his fingers.  You felt his love in his fingers and along his lips as he kissed your skin, showering you with affection for not only giving him a son but for also not leaving him alone in this world.  

You were part of his soul, as he was part of yours.  

Finally, after getting you cleaned and changed into fresh clothes thanks to the magic of the House, Azriel changed quickly back into his old clothes and ushered you back into the bedroom.  The old sheets and towels were gone, fresh sheets were made on the bed with new fluffy pillows and the window was ajar to bring in the fresh air.  Madja once again was holding your swaddled newborn, a big smile on her face.

“You have a healthy babe,” She said as she walked over to place him in your arms.  You took him softly, seeing how he was blinking slowly to show the bright blue eyes that he inherited from you.  Seeing him there, in your arms, after being inside of you for so many months, it was almost like a fever dream.  But he was there, breathing in the same air as you, and you felt your heart grow bigger from the sight of your son.  

“There’s nothing wrong with him?” Azriel asked as you were still watching your son, seeing his eyes blink again as his finger clenched and unclenched in a constant rhythm.  

“Nothing out of the ordinary for an Illyrian babe.  He’s small, but the lungs on him tell me he’ll be just fine,” Madja explained while he was packing her bag up.  She then pointed at you with a singular finger, “You are to rest here for one night, I don’t wish for you to put more stress on your body.  You can head to your home tomorrow after I come and do a follow-up.  Drink the tonics I gave you for the pain and the lotion for your skin,” She paused, holding her bag in hand as she gave you and Azriel a soft smile, “You two have a strong son, I pray blessings from the Cauldron for a happy life with him,”

You both thanked her as she slipped out of the room, you heard her talk to Rhysand and Feyre outside your room as you sank back onto the bed with your son snuggling close to you.  You looked over every inch of him, the way his hair was thick and already showing some waves, his ears that seemed to be from you, even the cooling touch of his skin as you inhaled his sweet baby scent through your nostrils.   You saw him yawn, being content in your arms as he was slowly closing his eyes and falling asleep within your embrace.  The softness of his breathing and the morning wind filled the room, it all felt like you were dreaming as you watched your sleeping son and your husband at your side.  

This was a dream that you never wanted to wake from. 

“Sweet boy,” You cooed, reaching over to touch his smooth skin with a graze of your finger.  Your son yawned, snuggled into the blanket a bit more still deep asleep as you grinned in pure happiness, “You’re simply perfect, aren’t you?”

“You’re perfect, baby,” Azriel hummed to you as he wrapped you in his arms, having you lean against him with ease and his nose grazing your freshly washed  hair, “I’m insanely proud of you for bringing him into the world, for bringing us this gift,”

You smiled and looked up at him, seeing him with some fresh tears in his eyes as you leaned up to kiss his chin, “Look at the Shadowsinger being emotional,”

“I don’t care,” He shrugged, his scarred hand reached over to touch the blanket your son was swaddled in with pride in his tone, “I’m beyond happy with my family here, it’s all I need,”

To see your husband and mate in such a state, it made your heart swell tenfold.  You knew deep down he had a heart, a massive one at that which would only be vulnerable to those who he was close to and considered his family.  You saw it when you two were young and passionately in love with one another, and to see it evolve and strengthen over time seemed like an honor and privilege.  And now it was happening all over again with your son now in your life.  

A gentle knock was heard at the door, you both look over to see Rhysand and Feyre poking their heads in.  They instantly saw your son, both of their eyes going big and massive grins on their faces.

“Can we come in?” Feyre asked, you nodding with a hint of excitement to show off your newborn.  Both of them slipped in, closing the door behind them and walking over to be perched at the side of the bed where you and Azriel were.  Feyre’s eyes were already misting, seeing your sleeping son and her warmth was radiating off her grin and gaze.  Rhysand clasped Azriel on the shoulder with pride.

“He’s perfect,” Rhysand said to Azriel, then leaning over to kiss the top of your head lovingly, “Well done Cousin.”

“Thank you, Rhys,” You said to him as you then gestured to your sleeping son, “You want to hold him?”

Azriel watched with a soft grin as Rhysand took his son gently in his arms, already holding him perfectly since he had practiced with his own offspring.  There was a look of pride on the High Lord’s face, scanning the little boy up and down with his own sense of love that he would share with his nephew.  Feyre beamed as she stood and perched her head on his shoulder, looking at your son too.

“Oh, he’s simply beautiful,” Feyre said with a sigh before giving a small wink to Azriel, “Takes after his father no doubt,”

Azriel slightly blushed as he shook his head, “Thank you for the kind words, Feyre.  But hIs eyes are of the bluest sky, just like his mother,”  

“Still, a handsome boy and Illryian,” Rhysand said with his smile as he looked over at the pair of you, “No doubt he’ll be surrounded by love and support from his family.”

“I should hope so,” You teased, Rhysand rolled his eyes as you spoke again, “Considering he’s named after the High Lord who is holding him now,”

Both Feyre and Rhysand looked at you in shock, though you and Azriel were remaining calm.  Of course, this was one of those topics that was between the pair of you, trying to think of names and never being able to settle on one thing since you didn’t know the gender.  But you both knew one thing for certain: the middle name.  It was going to be sacred and filled with meaning, coming from a special person to the pair of you.  

Rhysand was more than just the High Lord of Night Court, he was your family and kept you close within arm’s reach.  Even after he lost his own immediate family, he treated you as a sister and loved you dearly.  To Azriel, Rhysand was a found brother and close friend, the family that took him in when his own family left them in ruins.  

Rhysand saved you both, and you both owed your lives to him.

“We don’t know his first name yet, but his middle name will be Rhysand,” You explained as you saw some tears forming in Rhysand’s eyes, “We had to name him after the very High Lord who brought us both out of the darkness and made us feel loved when we didn’t.”

Feyre snuggled into Rhysand as he was grinning at you with tears in his violet eyes, but you knew that they were tears of joy.  She kissed his cheek lovingly as Azriel made his way over to him and clasped his shoulder. 

“You mean the world to us, you both do,” he said to Rhysand and Feyre, “And we owe our lives to you.  Thanks to you, our son will know the true meaning of family, Rhys,”

As Feyre and Rhysand embraced Azriel, you were filled with content in how this day was unfolding and a new chapter beginning your life.  It was all you and Azriel wanted: being surrounded by family with your new child finally in the world.  

It was all you wanted and more

“There we are, much better, huh?”

Azriel closed the door behind him, his son whimpering in his hold as they were out on the small terrace.  The night sky was clear and calm, the warm winds were enough to leave some of the windows open as the moon hung high in the open sky with a scattering of stars.  The twinkling lights below from the city seemed to set the mood as Azriel stood out in the open with his son, who was watching his father with his newborn eyes.

Cassian and Nesta cut their honeymoon short after being contacted about the birth, coming back to the House of Wind an hour after Rhysand and Feyre gave the new family some time together.  They too were excited to meet the new addition to the family, though Cassian teased in wishing for your next child to be named after himself.  You blushed madly as Azriel gave him a playful glare, but Cassian threw up his hands.

“What?  Fair is fair!”

Since you were restricted in staying in bed, you both were going to stay one more night before Madja would come back and clear you to go home.  It was safer that way since you wanted to be at your best for both yourself and the baby, and after nursing him and having more time with your newborn, you were drowsy and you fell asleep.  But before you could, you finally thought of a name that suited your son well.  

Alec.  Alec Rhysand. 

Azriel took the helm in watching over Alec as you were resting and in a deep sleep, thinking it was the best time to have alone time with Alec while the rest of the world moved on around him.  His mind was still on overdrive on all that happened that day, running on the last bit of energy he had but also energized at the same time with his son in his arms.  There was still more to be done, but Azriel would think of those things later. At that moment, he wished to simply hold his boy close.

“You had a busy day,” Azriel hummed to Alec, seeing his son watch him with his bright eyes as Azriel kept talking, “Coming into this world screaming your head off.  You had to make your mark that way, didn’t you?”  

Azriel had to chuckle from how serious Alec was looking at him, the moonlight bathed on his skin and illuminating his bright eyes some more.  Azriel saw his mate in those eyes, a familiar sense of home was set in his gut as he reached over to tuck the blanket in a bit more around his son.

“I hope you know how loved you are,” He explained to Alec, swaying a bit back and forth as the warm wind came again, “I’m sure you do.  Not just by me and your mother, but by the rest of your family.  And I vow to you, Alec Rhysand, to always love you and show you how much I love you every day for as long as I’m alive and breathing,”

Azriel thought about his mother then, seeing her face in his mind and missing her all the more.  He wished she was still alive, away from all that pain that was around her but never diminished her kindness and gentleness.  He wondered how his mother would feel about Alec if she would love him and be happy to have a grandson.  It saddened him that he would never know, but he didn’t want to dwell on it too much.

“You will never have to be afraid,” Azriel softly spoke to Alec, who was wiggling a bit in his blankets, “Nothing in this world or any other world will harm you, not while I’m here.  Anything you wish to do, whatever path you choose to take, your mother and I will be behind you,”

He could only picture and dream what his life would be like, what kind of Illyrian Alec would grow up to be.  Would he be wise?  Or perhaps a strong soldier.  It never mattered to Azriel, not when he knew deep down that Alec would have a bright future.  He would strike down any foe or enemy that would dare to harm his mate or son since they both were his world now.  First, it was his mate, his sole source of love and joy that he never wished to withdraw from.  

And now it was his son, making his heart expand and grow.

Azriel’s finger moved up to tuck in the blanket once more, though Alec’s small and delicate hand grabbed his finger before he could do it.  It made Azriel freeze like a statue, seeing the small hand cling to his one finger like a lifeline.  The pristine and soft hand against a scarred finger is such a contrasting thing to witness.  But Azriel felt like he was under some kind of spell from the touch of his son, simply feeling his hand around his finger and feeling how tight Alec was holding onto him,

Almost silently telling his father he needed him. 

So Azriel hummed, a lullaby he remembered when he was a young boy in need of love.  The same lullaby his mother sang to him as a babe, both haunting and beautiful at the same time.  Azriel recalled that little song driving the nightmares away, making the shadows that would plague his mind disappear like mist in the morning sky.  He remembered the feeling of being held by his mother, the sweet scent of her hair, the soft tenor of her voice as she would sing to him.

Before he knew it, Alec was fast asleep, nuzzling into the blanket he was tucked tight in, but his hand was still gripping Azriel’s finger.  But Azriel didn’t have the heart to stop singing or stop swaying, even as his son was in deep sleep with a content look on his infant face.  He simply let the lullaby go on, floating into the night sky and around him as his constant swaying was therapeutic for him.  If need be, he would stay out there for hours and hours on end just to keep his son happy and content.  He would do anything for his son at this point, and he felt no shame for it.

He was too occupied to notice that you woke up from your slumber, pulling on a robe to watch your mate and son by the window with a massive grin on your face.

The End

tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Finally finished the first part of gai’s 8 gates coma and how kakashi dealt with it rewrite people have been requesting. [tw blood, injury, coma, death discussions, grief]

Kurenai: Kakashi Kks: Ah. Kurenai and...baby, what’s up? Kurenai: You mind if I come in a moment? Kks: Uhhhhh I-

Kks: So what did you need to speak about? Did something happen? K: No, Nothing’s happened. You haven’t gotten to properly see and bond with her yet. Here Kks: You know I’m not fond of kids. K: That’s why I didn’t ask. Hold your arms out. Ok, now, don’t look absolutely petrified.

Kks: She’s ok, I guess [YELP] Oi! Don’t pinch me while I’m holding your baby! K: You wouldn’t drop her. Asuma would haunt you forever! Kks: Terrifying thought, Mirai.... How are you feeling? K: Exhausted. Do you really want to hear how horrifying having a baby is? Kks: No, please don’t tell me.

K: I came over to check on you as well. Any news? Kks: No. He’s still the same. K: Is that why it looks like this in here? Kks: ...Yeah. Doctor said he may never wake up. Since we’re eachother’s medical contacts, Tsunade told me I had to prepare to make hard decisions should it come to that.

Kks: With the council breathing down my neck over a job I don’t want, I had... A bit of an outburst. K: I don’t even blame you. That’s... That they expect you to carry on like normal. Still grieving. The person you love most is gone. But you’re still here. Don’t let them just dust you off and move on again. I’ll always have your back. Kks: You and Asuma always did. Even when I wasn’t grateful for it.

Kks: I can’t tell if they just don’t care or didn’t realize, Gai’s the one who held me together all these years. Only reason I’m still here at all is because of him. I don’t think tenzou, the elders, or the village are prepared for what’ll become of me if I lose him. So, I don’t care anymore. Let them be mad. I won’t give up on him. K: You should talk to him. Kks: huh K: Talk about anything! I’m sure the sound of your voice will help him find his way back. Especially if you sound sad, Kks: uuh

K: I can hear it now, “My eternal rival is sad? Not on my watch!“ Kks: Pretty accurate impression. K: There’s been lots of source material! Kks: Maaa, Your mom’s a huge dork K: Oi! [kakashi chuckles]

K: He’ll be so upset he missed her birth Kks: Oh, devastated. I can’t wait to see the look on Gai’s face, Mirai, when I tell him /I/ held you first! When he wakes up

Kks: Hey, Gai. Kurenai said i should talk to you.

Kks: Feels weird. Most of the people I’m used to talking to like this are all... Dead.

It’s so eerie how silent you’ve been for so long. you’re not even this quiet when you sleep. Your kids come everyday to see you. Naruto and sakura when they can. Lots of others. I’ve been telling them embarrassing  stories from when we were kids since you keep making them wait. Do you remember when I came over while you and Dai were making supper

Dai: Kakashi! Good to see you, my boy! Kks: Id Gai home? Dai: He’s helping with supper! Go on, inside, you’re always welcome! Kks: Ok Dai: Atta boy Kks: Hey, G- !? ummm? Gai: OH!! Rival!! Kks:  Is that a lid?! Gai: Correct!! It stops me from crying while cutting onions! A win for me!!

Kks: Against.... the onions? Gai: Yep! KKs:[snicker] Gai: Laugh all you want! Not everyone can comprehend innovation. Kks: Whatever. You forgot this at the training grounds. I know it’s yours there’s a turtle on it. Gai: See! You’re already tearing up! Kks: Am not Gai: Also, thankyou so much! Kks: Bye, I’m leaving. Gai: Could it be? You’re scared I can cut much faster than you! Kks: I am not scared. Gai: Good, I think we have another lid! Kks: YOU-!

Dai: Great to see growing boys with such a hunger! I’ll never have to prep onions again! Kks: I think about that everytime I chop onions now. You’ve altered my brain with all the ridiculous things you’ve done. Can’t even look at the toys you’ve gotten the dogs without getting emotional

Kks: Just knowing you’re here still, I can barely function. It’s pretty pathetic... Your hair’s getting long. Turning into your dad.

[gai’s heartbeat] Kks: Gai

[gais heartbeat continues]

[gai’s heartbeat continues] Kks: If anything should happen to me, you’ll rush over, right? Gai: Damn right, I will. Dont you worry about that.

[Gai’s heartbeat]

Kks: I miss you