#but if word had gotten back to his family that he was experimenting with healing it would not have gone well for him

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

BACK TO THE NIGHTMARES

Pairing - Jonathan Crane x Robin!fem!reader

Summary - Even though you go under the alias of Robin whilst fighting crime in Gotham. Your past catches up to you with a certain Doctor that always had a fascination for you.

Warnings - noncon!, violence, dead dove do not eat, rough sex, abuse physical and mentally, bondage.

Word count - 6.3k+

Notes - This was actually the first Cillian fanfic I wrote ages ago and idk highkey just posting it for the lolz.

The name Jonathan Crane was an open wound to you. No matter how much you would try to cover it, it would bleed back open without you noticing. 

You were an orphan at the age of 16. Your family’s tragic death broke you completely, it led to a life of deviance and crime in Gotham City. Your father had you trained in martial arts from an early age, so it benefited your unlawful acts of theft and robbery. However, you would only steal from the greedy. 

You first met Doctor Jonathan Crane when you were hardly an adult. You were arrested for robbing some rich asshole that scammed all of his workers. If only you weren’t so determined to beat the crap out of him you would have gotten away. Your lawyer told you to take the insanity plea, a major reduction of time locked away convinced you to agree with your lawyer. Worst mistake ever. You could tell he wasn’t right in the head as soon as you saw him, despite his charming face. 

When he put on the mask, your worst nightmares came to life. 

It felt like years, being under him as an experiment (even though it was only a couple of months). You fascinated him. He spent a lot of time with you at Arkham. He would tell you how you were his favorite little experiment and that he treated you so much nicer than the others. As if that was a compliment. It was dehumanizing, how he tortured you with your worst fears. To the point that he was your worst fear. You were able to fight back at him a couple of times, get a few good hits in. Despite the consequences, you didn’t regret it. 

Thankfully, The Batman saved you. Bruce heard of your story and felt sympathy for you. You never knew how ballistic Jonathan went when he got the call that you had escaped. And how he swore one day you would be underneath him again. 

Bruce wanted to help you, he felt your pain and struggles. It took you a while, but you agreed, under the hidden agenda that you would use your training to kill Jonathan. He trained you, physically and logically. Also helped you heal, enough to keep Jonathan out of your mind for most of the day. You eventually became Robin. Suit and all. 

When you thought you were ready, you snuck out of the manor. Your mind set on killing Doctor Jonathan Crane. You waited outside by the outside alleyway of Arkham, ready to pounce as soon as you saw him. When he was descending the stairs, you bolted to him. You swiftly pushed him down to the ground and hell broke loose. Punch after punch, kick after kick. You wanted him to suffer, just as he made you suffer. Jonathan tried to defend himself but couldn’t. You straddled him, the street lamp illuminated Jonathan’s eyes wide with fear, you somehow felt guilt. But you pushed that feeling aside, ready to use the final blow. 

But The Batman interfered. He pulled you off of him, a tight grip around your waist, and in a second, Jonathan was shrinking under you. The both of you landed on an exterior landing staircase and he reattached the batclaw to his belt. You shoved Bruce viciously and hissed. 

Bruce shook his head to you, as if you were a child. “I’m disappointed in you” he scolded. 

“Fuck off Bruce!” you growled. 

“I did not train you to become an executioner” he continued. “You do not decide who lives and dies” Bruce stated, leaning on the railing. 

“We both know I’m not the only person he tortured! It would be a mercy kill for the city of Gotham. You know he doesn’t deserve to live” you scoffed. You both had your points. You huffed and looked back down, he was gone. Bruce placed his hands on your shoulders, comforting you. 

“His day will come, we just need to wait for the right moment. Trust me” he reassured. 

And his day did come. Jonathan was arrested for numerous charges after his toxin exposure into the water system. You were free. Or so you thought. He disappeared after the League of Shadows incident. Bruce said he would never dare to return. You thought the same. 

Over the years, you assisted Bruce on missions, both with an agreeing mindset of making Gotham better. Your name became popular in the public eye, Batman and Robin. The vigilante’s sidekick in Gotham crime. You became obsessed with bringing criminals to justice. Sometimes you’d stay up for hours, listening to police radios waiting for something worth your time. Honestly anything was worth your time. But Bruce told you that you have to draw a line. 

Bruce was out of the country. Something had come up elsewhere, you asked to join but he gave a sly grin and said “someone has to protect Gotham”. 

Here you were again, sitting on the rooftop, the moonlight shining on you. Your feet dangled as you watched the moon, a police radio sitting next to you as you waited. You couldn’t sleep much anyways, the nightmares still couldn’t go away. That’s when it caught your eye, the Bat-Signal in the sky. You stood up immediately. Bruce forbids you from going alone. But he wasn't here, he wasn’t even in the country. This was a gray area in your agreement. Oh well, it’s probably something stupid anyways. 

You were quickly dressed and sped to the building. Adrenaline rushed through your blood. You were up there in no time. But by the time you were sneaking up to the rooftop, the light was turned off. You could hear Commissioner Gordon, yabbering about how some deviant must have snuck up to turn it on as a practical joke. You listened to him close the heavy door and sighed, climbing onto the rooftop regardless. Disappointment filled you as you sat on the ledge, overlooking Gotham. 

“What’s got you down, little one?” that familiar, terrifying voice captured your attention. Chills ran down your spine and your chest tightened. You spun around up onto your feet to see him. Jonathan Crane. Your heart raced. He was wearing his mask, he stood tall with his hands behind his back. He loved to call you little one, even after all of this time. 

“Scarecrow” you snarled, bracing for a fight. But you had to remind yourself what Bruce taught you. You also had to force your nerves to the side. 

He said your name. “You know me better than that” he said enthusiastically. Your face dropped. He couldn’t know it was you. How could he know it was you! He laughed at your frozen state. “Even though you beat me bloody that night, eyes never change” he explained, you could sense the grin on his lips. 

“So this was your plan? You want a repeat then?” you laughed, brushing off your nerves. Fists formed and jaw clenched as you waited for his move. 

“Not exactly, The Batman isn’t here to save you this time. In Prague the news broadcast shows” he mentioned, mocking ‘The Batman’.

It was impossible not to laugh. Who did he think he was?

Your feelings got the better of you. The actions of neutral good left you, your judgment clouded by your locked away anger towards this man. He was to die at your hands at this very moment, he didn’t deserve to live. Pure evil doesn’t get to walk free.  

“I’m going to enjoy this” you gritted your teeth. 

With a flash, you charged towards him and tackled him to the ground. You straddled him, ready to knock his teeth out but noticed his arm raise towards you. With a swift movement, you grab his arm and rip the fear toxic from out of his sleeve. Fuck this guy, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. You ripped off his mask and aimed the canister towards his face and released the gas. 

You breathed in the substance instantly and it blurred your sight. He tricked you. You jumped off of him and coughed intensely. The effects from the substance got to work immediately. Jonathan looked terrifying, your heart raced, body shock and anxiety felt heavy on your chest. No, you still had to fight. You yelled in anger and fear as you threw a punch at him, heart pounding in your chest and mouth hanging open. But your reflexes slowed down so much. He dodged you, effortlessly. Another attempt failed, again and again. Jonathan shoved you to the floor and you fell onto your back. His shoe pressed into your chest, keeping you down. 

“Stop, you’re wasting your energy” his voice sounded demonic. You still tried to fight him off. With a huff, Jonathan bent down and mounted you. You screamed at how close he was, there was no hallucination to his appearance. He looked exactly how you remembered and it haunted you. It was pointless trying to hide the fear he brings upon you in this state. His eyes were dark and expression was blank as his hands tugged onto your loose hair. “There, there, little one. You’re safe with me. You have nothing to fear” he cooed at you with a wicked grin as he pressed his crotch into you. 

You were frozen underneath him, you tried to move but couldn’t. Was this a newly developed substance? Or was your body in shock because of him. Your body trembled and you just wanted to call out for Bruce. With all of your strength, you hand slipped to your belt, searching for the distress beacon. Your actions went noticed by Jonathan and he smacked your hand away. He laughed as he picked up the device and threw it to the side. 

“What did I say again? The Batman isn’t here to save you this time” he mocked, his hands feeling up your body animalistically. He ordered you to sleep and for some reason you did. Falling from one nightmare to another. 

You groaned, your head was aching, but your thoughts were softened with the feeling of fuzziness. The fear toxin had worn off. Your lips were cracked dry as your head rolled from side to side. Your eyes peaked open, you lightly hissed at the bright light piercing above you. Slowly, your eyes became fully wide. You took in a deep breath as you analyzed your unfamiliar surroundings. Everything was white. The walls, counter, floor, exam table and the medical bed you laid on. You harshly blinked as you looked down at your body. A loud, uneased breath echoed throughout the silent room as you stared at yourself. You were wearing a white patient gown and your wrists and ankles were restrained to the bed. 

“You’re awake, finally” the dark voice traveled to your ears from behind. It sent shivers down your spine, knowing who it was immediately, Jonathan Crane. You took into note how his appearance has changed a bit. Just his hair cut shorter and he looked a bit older. If you saw him as a stranger on the street you would think him to be charming. He took slow steps towards you, raising the fear on your cold skin with him approaching you. His hand rested on your shoulder, almost as if to comfort you. “Now the fun can begin” the words slithered off of his tongue. You lied there frozen. Completely clueless of what was about to occur. He sat on the stool beside you and watched you like a hawk. “I had to strip you immediately you know, The Batman had a tracking device on your suit. He must really not trust you. You’ve always made dumb decisions, remember?” he chuckled, speaking casually to you. 

Anger consumed you, you struggled against the restraints and then you froze from the realization of how easy your inner thighs rubbed together. You looked down at your body, and saw your hardened nipples from the cool room poke through the thin cotton. You could feel your body prepare itself to hyperventilate. “You’re going to-” you gasped as you couldn’t finish your sentence, tears flooding your eyes. 

“No no no” Jonathan soothed, leaning closer to you. His fingers interlocked with yours. “You’re going to want me to fuck you, sweetheart” he flashed a smile. It looked pure at first glance, but the longer you stared, the quicker the evil painted over. 

“Help!” you screamed over and over again. Jonathan couldn’t help but to roll his eyes. God you were still such a fucking whiny bitch. 

Robin was gone, now you were just the broken girl that fell into his hands all of those years ago. It was shocking to see how easily broken you’ve gotten. All of this training and skills for what? You should stand strong, just take it, show no fear and pain. But you were just a girl. 

“No point in screaming. We’re not at Arkham. We’re very far away from Gotham” he sighed, looking up to the ceiling briefly. He yanked a dry cloth from the exam table and stood up. 

“Please Jonathan-” you yelped as he viciously gripped your chin and pulled your face closer to him. 

“Doctor Crane to you” he spat. But he didn’t loosen his iron grip. Your eyes were wide as he stared at you with anger. How dare you. You were not equals. You tried to nod your head against his iron grip. Once he let go you took a large gasp.

He leaned over you and forcefully shoved the cloth into your mouth. You cried, your eyes pleading with him as if it would actually make a difference. He admired the sight below him. “Look at you my sweet, all bound up” he commented, his hand trailing across your collarbones. “You thought you were fucking better than me, smarter, stronger. You dumb fucking whore. Don’t worry, I’ll show you your place. Right under me, figuratively and literally” he explained, the back of his cold hand raised to your flustered cheek. “I’m going to fix you” he said quietly. 

Your eyes didn’t follow him. You couldn’t dare to look at him. Jonathan sat back on the stool. He looked back up to you, noticing the tears slipping down your cheeks. “Oh don’t cry. You wanted to bring me down too. I just acted sharper than you. You let your emotions cloud your judgment, you only have yourself to blame” he elucidated.

He had a point. You were taught better. But you chose to react the way you did. Nevertheless, you didn’t deserve to be in this situation. 

He’s waited so long for this moment. The patience this man has had for this moment. It was all worth it. Now he has the power to break you down mentally and physically. You muffled into the rag, trying to plead with him. 

“I care about you” he randomly admitted. “Even after all this time” he mumbled slightly. It shocked you, this monster having feelings for someone other than himself? Impossible. “More importantly I care about how you feel about me” he added, leaning closer to your face. “So, I’m going to please you to show you just how much I care about you” he grinned, his hand tapping your cheek. 

You knew exactly what that meant. You aggressively thrashed your body. This couldn’t be happening, you needed to get out of here, out of these restraints. Your muffled cries echoed throughout the room. The breakdown quickly unfolded when you realized it was pointless. Your eyes squinted shut, this had to be a dream, a nightmare. You needed to remain calm, what he said was true. Your judgment was clouded by your emotions. What would Bruce do? Fuck, as if he would ever end up in a situation like this.  

You were too focused on your attempts to control your breathing to realize that your ankle restraints had been uncuffed. Jonathan pushed your ankles up, bringing your knees up closer to your chest. He reattached the restraints to a closer pole, keeping your knees at a 155 degree bend. Your gown rode up to your hips, exposing your bare pussy. That’s when you realized what he had done. Jonathan walked over to the counter, opened a draw and retrieved a pair of silver scissors. He looked back at you and gave you a wicked grin. Your head shook excessively, as if it would change anything. 

“I’ve wanted to do this since I met you. I regret not fucking you in Arkham. I was just such a workaholic I didn’t want my urges to get in the way. I thought of it as unprofessional. But I’ve become open to exploring new methods” he said slowly as he approached you. You resisted, knowing it was pointless but it was natural reflexes regardless. He towered over you, briefly admiring you before cutting the gown straight down the middle. You cried out as the last inch was snipped apart. Jonathan grinned as his large hands traveled all over your heated body. “I jerked off to you after every session” he admitted proudly, playing with your plump tits. He pushed the cut gown to the sides of your body, you were completely exposed to him, mentally and physically. “I’m going to eat your cunt out now baby” he told you with a smirk. The low tone terrified you. 

He stood directly in front of you, his body leaned over onto the end of the bed. He crawled up high enough for his upper body to easily lay on the bed. “God, you’re fucking dripping!” he exclaimed as he examined your wet region. “Is this all because of me, my sweetness?” he taunted. You refused to give him any pleasure by responding. But he was too focused on the sight of your sweet spot anyways. 

Jonathan examined your cunt. His fingers stroked your folds. You whined, shaking your restricted body in an attempt to get him to back off. He harshly smacked your pussy and you cried into the cloth. “Stop resisting” he growled, his long fingers returning to their playful manner. 

You didn’t like this, at all. However, from his touch you couldn’t help but to feel weakened. Your knees felt like jelly. The further his strokes went, the heavier your breathing got. You didn’t notice your hips flex forward to Jonathan, back arching. He grinned at your sexual response to his touch. You liked this, he knew you did. One finger slipped inside of you, causing you to groan painfully. Fuck, you were tight. Pristine tight. You cried as he finger curled inside of you. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up to you, realization glowed in his eyes. 

“Oh my” he breathed out as he analyzed your expression. He slid another finger inside of you to confirm his theory, you were a sobbing mess from this. “Oh my!” he exclaimed as he pulled his fingers out. He climbed on top of you and grabbed onto your jawline. “Did you forget to tell me something very important darling?” he questioned you, a wicked smirk on his cold lips. Your eyes swelled up, this was so humiliating. You kept your eyes low and he harshly tapped his fingers onto your cheek until you looked up to him. “Have you ever been touched? Fucked?” His dark eyes demanded an answer, his hands loosened enough for you to lower your jaw. He forgot about the cloth in your mouth from excitement. 

You could always lie, but he knew when you were lying. You shook your head, still in his grip.

“Not even by yourself?”

Another shake of the head. 

A dark laugh echoed through the room. “Fuck, do you know how arousing that sounds? Too busy fighting crime to get dicked down. No wonder you’re such a stuck up cunt hm?” he chuckled, caressing your heated cheeks.

Jonathan’s words were too overwhelming. So you just cried, face still in his grip. He comforted you by petting your cheeks and brushing your hair to the side. He couldn’t help but to feel irritated by this information as well. A sudden urge to make love to you rather than to fuck you. No, you’ll like the way he fucks you. There is no choice in the matter. When your cries became minimized he slid back down your exposed body.

“You’re going to taste so fucking devine” he commented, stroking your gushing region once more. “Your body will be so delicate to my touch. I can’t wait to explore all of these new experiences with you. If you are good and embrace my touch I’ll take it easy with you. If not, I’ll make you scream. Not in a good way” Jonathan explained as he gripped onto your outer thighs. 

You whined at the first lick, eyes rolling back as your head dug back into the bed. Jonathan quietly moaned at your sweet taste. It was everything he dreamed of and more. His lips attacked your cunt as his tongue slipped inside of you. A scream of pleasure escaped your mouth. It was humiliating, enjoying pleasure from this evil man. You harshly bit onto the cloth to avoid another muffled moan satisfying his ears. It was amazing with how quickly your orgasm was building, it had only been a couple of minutes. Your legs began to tremble and fists formed. Jonathan’s nose pressed against your clit as he viciously ate you out as if he hadden eating all day. 

He pulled his mouth away, but quickly replaced your tender cunt with the touch of his digits. Two fingers easily slipped inside of you. Muffled cries snuck out. But the deeper his fingers went inside of you, the harder it was to hide your moans. 

“You’re so close to coming already. Making me feel a bit pompous honestly” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help yourself when his fingers reached your g-spot. It felt magnificent, your warm walls squeezing around fingers. He slid in four digits, causing an awful cry of pleasure mixed with pain. You were climaxing in the worst way. Jonathan’s expression looked crazed, like he was a wild animal teasing his prey. It was a surprise that he hadn’t creamed in his pants already. You rode out your very first orgasm on his filthy fingers. Your hips naturally rocked on his fingers back and forward as you became undone. 

You felt like you were going to pass out. Nostrils flared as your body fell back into the bed, it was so fucking hard to breathe. It went unpassed as he untied all of your restraints. Your eyes squeezed shut from exhaustion and embarrassment. You rejected the thoughts of you enjoying the assault, enjoying Jonathan’s touch. 

Your bloodshot eyes opened again when you felt Jonathan climb on top of you. His covered erection poked your thigh as he watched your manner. But his eyes locked onto your gagged mouth. He gently pulled the cloth out of your mouth. You gasped for air, chest raised. 

“Hm, I’ve kissed your pussy before your mouth” he grinned. It was a foul joke. It made you physically gag which he didn’t like at all. He ordered you to kiss him. 

You whimpered at the pain of your sore jaw. But he was gentle with you, his tongue slipped in and lower lip massaged yours. It felt nice, relaxing to feel his touch in this manner. He caressed your breasts as his lips nipped your neck. You let out a soft moan and pressed your body against his, arms wrapped around his upper back. It felt like bliss, the comforting touch to your sensitive body. Your bodies molded together, his breathing was by your ear as you felt your soul leave your body. It felt too good to be true. That’s when you realized it was. You were being physically and emotionally vulnerable with your assaulter. Your body tensed and he noticed immediately. 

“What is it?” he questioned, sounding concerned to the slightest. He stared into your teary eyes, the back of his hand softly stroked your cheek. His free hand lowered to your stomach in an attempt to comfort you.

You regretted it immediately. The action went without a thought. You just saw an opportunity and didn’t think of what the consequences would be. The slap echoed throughout the room and it was followed by complete silence. It was a surprise that you even had the strength to land the hit. You laid frozen as his head remained in the position your hand forced it to. If anything, it was your opportunity to escape. But that slap had used all of your strength. Slowly his dark eyes turned to you, his thighs keeping you trapped underneath him. You stared back at him in fear, waiting for his fury. He backhanded you, again and again. A last gasp for breath left your lips as his hands wrapped around your throat. You struggled underneath him, your face quickly turning red in the process. His expression was emotionless as your fingers dug into his hands, forearms, anything to break the grip. 

“Fucking ungrateful bitch” he growled. “You know, I was going to be nice and wait to fuck you until tomorrow. I thought it would have been a kind gesture to give you some recovery time since, being a pure virgin and all. But you’re just a bit of a fucking brat now aren’t you? Unfortunately I’ll just have to show you my rough side as well” he snarled to you. 

It was a lie, he was going to fuck you today regardless. It was just amusing to fuck with your mind. Your vision became blurred and your hands fell to your sides. He let go of his grip and you gasped for air. His hands quickly gripped onto the sides of your head, his fingers tugged roughly at the roots of your hair. 

“Apologize to me” he spat his demand.

“I’m sorry!” you cried. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I wasn’t thinking straight” you cried your explanation. The apology was genuine but that didn’t satisfy him. 

“Show me you’re sorry” he ordered. You blinked as you processed his words. You tried to move your head closer to his but his fingers pulled your hair back. You winced as you figured you had to work harder to kiss him. Jonathan watched your frustrated and distressed look as you tried to press your lips against his.

“Please let me kiss you” you begged. He chuckled, and let go of your hair. You kissed him desperately, your tongue slid into his mouth. He didn’t like it at all. It felt way too forced by you. Jonathan pulled away and slapped you. 

“You’re trying too hard baby. It’s rather embarrassing” he laughed. “Now, don’t make any rash decisions as I fuck you. Despite my pleasure, I think you’d prefer not to be drugged into a state of  paralysis”. 

Jonathan stood up on his knees, you being trapped underneath him. He towered over you as he began to unbutton his shirt. His eyes did not drift away from yours as he dropped the shirt to the ground. Skin as pale as ghost and had little body fat and muscle definition. It was confusing how easily he could overpower you, drugs you’d guess. “Is there any fantasies on how you want to be fucked little one?” Jonathan teased. 

“No” you spat. 

Jonathan hummed as he slid off the bed. Your lower region was still raw from your orgasm. He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. He pushed down the clothing enough for him to pull his cock out. A cry left your sore lips. His size was much bigger than you’d imagined. Maybe it was just an illusion, his cock just looked bigger because of his small size. Stroking his cock Jonathan ordered you to turn to your side. You buried your head into the bed as you turned your body away from him. 

He pulled your hips towards him, his cock rested by your entrance. You whimpered at the feeling of him against you. He caressed your ass a little bit as he lined his cock up. “This is going to hurt, a lot” he warned you with zero care. With one forceful thrust, he was completely inside of you. It wasn’t an illusion, he was as big as you thought. The inside walls of you cunt ached as it stretched around him. It was instinct for you to scream and it was diabolical for Jonathan to enjoy your sounds of agony. 

You wanted to thrash out, attack him. But you knew the consequences, how easily he would be able to restrain you. And you didn’t wish to know what torture he would bring upon you. So instead you just laid there crying with him watching you, your fingers curled into the fabric. Jonathan’s grip on your hip tightened as he began to thrust viciously. He popped your cherry quickly, your blood coated his cock and he thought that it was a heavenly sight. He stared at the back of your head as his balls smacked against your core. 

“I want you to look at me while I fuck you” he ordered, his jaw clenched and nostrils flared. You did as he said and turned your head back. His mouth fell open as you two stared at one another. “How does it feel? Losing your virginity in this state? I bet you feel like a dirty little whore. Good, because you like this, I can feel your cunt clench around me. You’re dripping darling” he pointed out, you were. The thrusts became easier because of how wet you were from this. 

His finger drew blood for your hip as his thrusts continued at the same quick, rough pace. He analyzed your expression, noticing your eyes trying not to roll back and jaw lowering open. “Are you about to climax again darling?” he asked with a grin, he could feel it. You shook your head, not wanting to believe it yourself. A harsh smack landed on your bruised hip causing you to yelp. “Don’t lie baby” he warned in a low voice. 

“Yes!” You cried out. Jonathan laughed at how easy it was to unfold you.  

“Don’t let me hold you back. By all means, come!” he commanded, slapping your ass in the process. 

Quickly after that, you followed through with his command. You cried out, eyes completely rolled back, mouth panting for air, chest tightened and body falling numb. Your head fell back as you rode out your orgasm on Jonathan’s cock, hips rocking in rhythm. 

“The little virgin really must love my cock” he noted. 

“Please- stop. I-” you were lost for words. Could he blame you? Two orgasms in a row when you’ve never even attempted it before? Jonathan chuckled darkly at your request. 

“Darling, I’m not even close to finishing. You’re just going to have to hold it out. Maybe we should see if I can get a few more in?” He smirked and you shook your head. 

You couldn’t do this, you’ve had enough. You twisted your body back in an attempt to push him out of you. He reacted quickly and climbed on top of you. His cock slipped out as he grabbed onto your chin. His eyes gave you a warning not to disobey him as he realigned his member. With an easy push, he was back inside of your sweet canal. He bit your neck roughly as he found the right angle to fuck you. You moaned, he felt so fucking good and you hated it. 

Jonathan stared at your expression. Fear mixed with pleasure. It was the ultimate combination. He kissed you passionately, his tongue sliding down to your throat. You tried to fight him off with your own tongue but it was no use. You didn’t notice your arms snaking around his back to hold him close to you, as if he’d leave at any moment. 

“You like this” he taunted. You ignored his words and just focused on him fucking you, feeling yet another orgasm building up inside of you. But then he stopped fucking you all together. His cock slipped out of you and you frowned at him. You almost asked as to why he had stopped. Has he finished? “If you want me to continue fucking you, you’ll ask me nicely” he explained, a sly look on his face. 

You laughed weakly, he wasn’t serious? Why would you want him to continue? But then he rubbed your clit and you knew why you wanted him to continue. Humiliation was such a turn on. You cried, your chaotic thoughts were too much to unpack. Why would you even dare to ask him to continue? But you were already so close again and the discomfort in your core was becoming unbearable as he rubbed you just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to push you over. 

“Don’t feel guilty about your pleasures Y/N. Your body betrays your mind, it’s so fascinating isn’t it? The relationship between the mind and body. There’s no point in fighting it. Just embrace it, embrace my touch” 

His words felt like bliss. He was so smooth tongued. It was true, you did enjoy this, well your body did at least. What was the point in fighting? You had already lost to him. 

“Please” you whimpered, keeping your head low.

“No” his reply was blank.

“Please!” you sobbed, head shooting up to look at him. Your eyes screamed desperation and irritation.

“Please what? Please Doctor Crane fuck me? I’m such a pathetic greedy little slut that wants to come again?” His words were a slap to the face. It was as mortifying as you thought. 

“Yes that yes!” your response was quick. “Please- I want, I want your cock inside of me. I want to feel you inside of me” you said overwhelmed. You were whimpering a lot, your hips rocking on his thumb.  

Jonathan watched you rub yourself on him and bit his lip. “Oh, you really are a fucking slut. But you’re my slut. You’re mine. But I think you know that already. You’ve always known. Don’t you?” He grinned. You hummed and nodded your head. You shrieked when he pinched your clit. “Use your words girl!” he growled. 

“Yes! I-I’m yours!” you answered. Tears streamed down your cheeks and your mouth trembled.

“Oh you make me want to come so hard. I want you to hold it out. Can you do that for me baby? Wait for me so we can come together” he grinned as he lined his cock at your entrances, brushing against your wet folds. You nodded your head in agreement. Whatever, whatever he wanted. 

The force of his thrusts was like a jackhammer. For a man his size, he sure had stamina. Your foreheads pressed together, fingers interlocked and your legs weakly wrapped around his waist. It terrified you because you came before him. You just couldn’t help yourself. But he didn’t stop so you rode out your high as best as you could. You knew he was about to come undone. Both of your hips locked forward at the same time. Jonathan groaned loudly as you clenched against his shooting cock. His eyes squeezed shut as he held you tight and head flung back. His thrusts came to a sudden stop, his cock completely inside of you, his load spurting deep inside of you. With a few more softer thrusts, Jonathan pulled his soaked cock out of you. 

He let out a satisfied sigh. “I told you it wouldn’t be considered rape” he reminded you expressionless, not even breathless unlike yourself. 

You broke down, unable to control your emotions. You were a sobbing mess. Surely he’s drugged you with something else, right? But the gut feeling inside of you told you otherwise. Too many conflicting thoughts were fighting with each other. After watching you for a quick moment, he got off of you and fixed himself up, redressing himself and combing back his damp hair from all of the sweat as you laid there helpless. There was the opportunity that you tried to make a run for it, but the success rate was at minimum at this point. 

The Doctor went over the sink and ran a cloth under warm water. Ringing out the water, he walked back over to you and began to clean you up, completely ignoring your state of distress. Aftercare was the least of your expectations. He left your cunt till last. His fingers pressed up against the folds of your entrance. A mixture of your fluids oozed out.

“What a sight” he murmured to himself. 

You whined and hissed as he cleaned your raw, swollen, abused cunt. When he was done, he chucked the cloth into the sink and climbed back onto the bed next to you. You silenced yourself, expecting him to make another attack on you. He watched over you quietly and you weren’t sure what to do. It was like he was a crazed monkey waiting to snap.

“You’re still such a good girl for me” he cooed as he planted soft kisses all over your heated skin. The memories of your history filled his mind. There was a passionate kiss shared between you two, the type that doesn’t show desire but shows romantic intimacy. You kissed him back gently, it felt nice and you hated it. Jonathan pulled away and wiped your tears. “You still know your place. Mhm, you took my cock so well baby. I’m so proud of you little one” he praised as he groped your tits. “God, who knows, I might just fall in love with you” he laughed softly, kissing you once more.

[thelov3lybookworm]

We'll Heal

Summary: They have healed a lot in the past few years, and they will heal a lot in the ones coming.

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Word Count: 2681

Warnings: angst, beron, eris being the tiniest bit mean but overall hes just a sweetheart, eris's brother, allusions to SA and domestic abuse, trauma. i think thats it, but if theres more i need to add, let me know!!

A/n: based on this request. i feel like i like this fic a lot cus my writing in this is so good, in my opinion 🥹 THANK YOU TO THE ANON WHO SENT ME THAT ASK ❣️❣️❣️

anyways, ENJOY🥹

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The Vanserra brother’s scents were quite similar to each other. Y/n had learned that very quickly.

Having to hide and cower the moment her fiance arrived, she’d gotten better at scenting people.

All of them had distinct scents to the point if someone paid attention, they could figure out which one it was. But initially, it would be hard to differentiate between all the seven woody fragrances with hints of ash and sweet maple.

For example, Eris’s scent was woody, smoky, with a very light sweetness to it. Autumnus, Y/n’s fiance and the second born, his scent was very similar, but it was the slightest bit sugary. More so than all his brothers.

If there was one brother who actually had a different scent, it was Lucien. And Y/n thought she knew why.

Six of the brothers had almost the same scent, but the youngest didn’t? Y/n was not dumb. She was pretty sure Lucien was not Beron’s child, and even if Y/n was not so well versed in recognizing a person’s unique fragrance, his warm demeanour would have made it hard to believe he was.

He was by far the nicest and kindest being Y/n had ever met, but she did not know whether that was a compliment for she had not met many. Other than her father, father in law, fiance and his brothers, Y/n had no experience mingling with other fae. Being the daughter of a wealthy nobleman, she was always sheltered since the day she had been born, her purity and piousness valued above all else.

She had never even interacted with the lower fae that worked as servants for her father before he had basically sold her off to the high lord to further his position in court. Being the father of one of the brides of the high lord’s seven sons certainly came with perks he was unwilling to let go of.

He had hoped for Y/n’s betrothal to the eldest, but Beron had outright refused, so her father had had to settle for the second best.

Which was probably one of his worst decisions ever, considering Autumnus had made her life miserable and refused to let her step foot out of their private east wing.

Y/n supposed she should be glad he let her leave her room at least.

He had taken one look at her and agreed to marriage, and Y/n was aware that had Beron not forced him to court her for six months before the wedding, he would have snatched her right back to his room.

But of course, being ordered to not touch her intimately before their marriage did not deter him from seeking her out at night, when no soul would be awake to report such uncourtly behaviour or spread rumours. And as long as no one threw mud on their family name, Beron Vanserra didn’t really care what happened to the women in the palace.

Despite his… daring endeavours, Autumnus was adamant on keeping Y/n sheltered, and she had overheard a conversation between one of the other brothers and her fiance one evening where he claimed that he only wanted her to stay in the wing so no one would get any untoward ideas about harming Y/n.

How Ironic.

For all he claimed he only wished for her wellbeing and did not want to see her hurt, he sure had no qualms about putting his hands on her himself. Be it for his own sexual pleasure or sadistic desires. Y/n would never be able to understand why seeing the tears and bruises on her skin as the outcome of his actions brought him such satisfaction, nor would she ever wish to.

The sun was setting in the distance when a door close by slammed with a bang and Y/n’s shoulders tensed, already dreading the moment her bedroom door would also burst open. And then her fiance would stumble upon her. It was time for him to come anyway.

But the scent that reached her when the bedroom door creaked open was not that of her fiance’s. Surprised, she turned to greet the guest, her wide eyes meeting that of frenzied amber.

"Good evening, my lord." Despite wondering what was going on, Y/n began to drop into a curtsy.

"We do not have time for pleasantries. Hurry up."

Y/n blinked, the harshness of the oldest vanserra brother catching her off guard. "What-"

"Hurry up." Eris growled, striding towards her and grabbing her wrist.

Her blood ran cold at the force in his grasp, sweat forming on her back.

No.

Please.

Autumnus has assaulted me enough. Why is his brother doing this to me too?

Another thought crossed Y/n’s mind.

If Autumnus smells his brother on me, it’s over for me.

"What- what are you doing?! Autumnus would be furious if he catches me with you-"

"Autumnus is dead." Eris snapped, glaring at her when she refused to budge despite his insistent tugging on her hand to drag her out. It took Y/n a moment to fully understand what he was saying.

Her skin went numb. The surroundings turned mute. Her eyes lost focus, and as if her skin had lost all ability to hold her, her jaw dropped, lips parting.

"Wh- what?"

He released a frustrated exhale, his eyes falling shut. "Are you broken? Can you not say anything other than what?" When Y/n just stared at him, he growled. "No wonder you never stopped Autumnus from being his bastard self."

He dropped her hand, instead grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. "Listen to me carefully girl. Lucien’s lover was killed and now every other brother is out hunting him. Your betrothed is dead. The place is in chaos. There are no guards out there. I am trying to get you out of here. Okay? I am not trying to take advantage of you."

Y/n blinked, forcing herself to actually see the male in front of her. That was when her eyes snagged on the dark stains on his expensive jacket. The jacket itself was the darkest shade of maroon, yet the spots coloured by what looked like blood were discernible.

Blood.

She met his eyes. "Why are you helping me?"

His jaw clenched. "Not all of us are assholes, you know. I have sent Lucien to the spring court, and before anyone else returns to check up on you, you need to be gone."

She nodded, numb to his vice-like grip. "Can I ask you one more question?"

Eris’s lips tilted up cynically. "Of course. Would you like me to order some tea too? We can sit by the fire and chit chat? We could also bring the rest of the bothers even-"

She swallowed. "Point taken."

"Good." He snapped, eyes hard as he grabbed her hand again. "I’ll have to winnow you now." He mumbled, more to himself than to her.

And he did just that, depositing her on what seemed like the border to spring court. The thick foliage cascading down to the ground in trickling rivulets of red, orange and gold faded into the warm embrace of summoning of summer, green leaves and pink petals that looked like they’d burst with the slightest touch beckoning Y/n to come closer, to breathe in the sweetness.

Uncertain, Y/n turned to look at him.

"What now?" He questioned impatiently, gaze flitting from tree to tree, shadow to shadow.

"I-"

"Lucien or one of the high lord’s sentries will find you, if that’s what you’re concerned about."

Y/n was going to say that she had never stepped foot out of her father’s estate and then Beron’s estate, but that was a more valid concern than what she had in mind. So she dipped her head and turned away from Eris, taking steps towards the border as her stomach flipped in her tummy.

Before she took the last step and finally got rid of all ties to Autumn, she turned to look at him.

He raised a brow.

"I… I hope you get the best in life, my lord. I truly do."

His eyes softened, and he nodded at her in acknowledgement.

The moment she set foot in spring, he was gone.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"Y/n?"

She groaned and turned away, tucking her head between her pillow and the bed.

"Go away."

She heard a chuckle, causing her to tense. The sound itself was nothing bad, but the underlying love for chaos in it had her ready to fight.

Autumnus?

Clenching her fists in the bedsheets, she peeked her eye open, and sure enough, a flash of red hair caught her eye.

He stepped closer and yanked the covers off of her, his sinister smile still on his face as he took in her cowering form, his deep chuckle causing a shiver to run up her spine.

“Time to play, bitch.”

No. Please no.

He had not listened. He’d dragged her out of her bed in the middle of the night.

The first night of many to come.

Pine and maple mixed with honey filled her lungs, and she jerked up and back, heart thumping in her throat as she squeezed her eyes shut. She pressed herself against the headboard, feeling her tears tickle her skin as they rolled down her cheeks.

She heard nothing, no movement or breaths or menacing footsteps approaching her for long moments, and she blinked her eyes open, looking around the room over her heaving chest.

The eyes staring back at her with tears in them were not amber. They were russet.

Lucien.

Lucien, not Autumnus.

She exhaled, lips parting as she took in the sadness on her husband’s face. "Lucien, I-"

He shook his head, walking closer to her and settling down next to her. "It’s okay my love. I know how hard it is." He gently grasped her fingers in his hand and pried them from the blanket, and she reluctantly released her death grip on it.

She sniffled. "I’m trying."

He smiled at her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "I know you are, and I’m proud of you for it."

She watched him as he placed a kiss on each of her finger tips, then her knuckles, then finally her palm before meeting her eyes. And once again, she was reminded of the fact that this was Lucien. He was not his brother.

It had been over half a century since that day Eris had dropped Y/n on the spring border, and still, everytime she had to remind herself that she was now with Lucien, not his devil of a brother.

Lucien was a devil too, just not in the sense his brother was.

When Y/n had found Lucien after entering Spring Court, bleeding and bruised, his eyes hollow but pain still oozing from every pore of his body, she had managed to pull him- even as unwilling and ready to die as he was- towards where she thought she saw some tall spires rising into the sky through the proud trees boasting the prettiest of leaves she had never seen before, sure that it would be were the high lord resided.

She could only hope that Eris had informed him beforehand and that she was not dragging herself and Lucien from one hell to another.

The high lord had accepted them with open arms though, and Y/n had not expected the lengths he went to to make them comfortable. And despite the paranoia Y/n had after her experience with one HIgh Lord, despite her scepticism and reluctance to trust Tamlin, she developed what many would call a sibling bond with him. So did Lucien.

In the aftermath of all the tragedies, Lucien had isolated himself and only Tamlin could pull him out. But one day, Y/n had had enough of waiting. She had been waiting to talk to Lucien for over a month by that point, and when he had refused to talk to her or anyone at all, she’d barged into his room.

He had finally spoken to her and revealed that it was Autumnus who had told Beron about Jesminda’s existence, hence leading to her death. And despite Y/n believing in the saying, ‘Respect the dead and remember their good’, she cursed her dead fiance all over again.

From that day onward, Lucien and Y/n had connected, becoming closer as time went, comforting each other over shared loss of loved ones, life and home.

It was only a matter of time before they decided they liked each other more than friends did.

But Y/n had never been able to forget the things Autumnus did to her. It had taken her over a decade to even let Lucien kiss her. She had thought she was getting better in recent years though.

Apparently not.

Y/n leaned close to Lucien, resting her head on his shoulder. She tried so hard to move on from her experiences with Autumn court in general,but every time something happened that reminded her even slightly of the place she had been born, all her progress seemed to wash down the drain. Each time, she would be upset, but Lucien would tell her it was fine.

It was not.

Because if it were fine, why was she not stronger? Why, when anytime Lucien grabbed her a little too hard when play fighting, when the head maid got frustrated and yelled at others who were not doing their job well, when Tamlin used his high lord voice while commanding his sentries, why did Y/n stiffen? Why did sweat trickle down her back like the cold fingers of her fiance? Why did her blood seem to stop moving in her veins?

Y/n was disappointed quite often.

"Y/n, love, you know it’s alright. I can feel your thoughts without being a daemati. You need to give yourself more credit for how far you’ve come."

Just like that, tears welled up in Y/n’s eyes again, and she snuggled closer to him, hoping he would not be able to look at her filled eyes if she made it impossible for him to look at her.

He pulled away from her grip, knowing what she was trying to do and not falling for it. "Look at me sweetheart. It’ll get better with time."

Y/n just nodded, focusing on the golden skin of his throat rather than those eyes that made her spit out anything on her mind without compulsion.

He sighed, and Y/n wished she could erase the sound from existence because it made her feel worse than she already did, knowing she hurt Lucien too when she refused to get better.

"Fifty years ao, Y/n, you could not stand to be within arm’s length of me without having shivers. Without having nightmares, you could not close your eyes. You could not talk to anyone because everyone reminded you of him.

"And now you can do so much. You organise and host events for Tamlin, you are training to be an emissary, you can hold your own against those pompous lords whose jacket buttons hold on for dear life. Tell me, what can you not do?"

That made an unexpected giggle burst from Y/n’s lips, and she looked up to find Lucien’s lips quirked to the side, his eyes glittering.

"And no, Y/n, you do not disappoint me when it all comes back to you. I am so very proud of you for even beginning to get better in the first place. Mother knows I would have been a ghost wandering the halls had I been the one who endured Autumnus and his bullshit."

Y/n pressed her forehead to Lucien’s, whimpering softly. "I love you."

She felt the air in front of her shift and settle as Lucien shuffled closer, placing his lips against her.

"And I love you. And I promise you, my love, we’ll get better."

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[theconstellationprincess]

Whumptober Day 16: Wound Cleaning

Celebrimbor injures himself in the forge, and Elrond decides to help him out. Elrond and Celebrimbor figure out that elves copy mannerisms from their relatives, though it can be painful to see.

-

Elrond clicks his tongue as he assesses the burn, holding Celebrimbor's arm gently, careful to not cause any more harm. "It's deep," Elrond says into the quiet air of the forge, sparing a quick glance to Celebrimbor before refocusing on the burn. "I will dress it with a salve, which should help with the pain. It won't take more than a week or two to finish healing."

Celebrimbor hums, and Elrond releases his arm with a clearing of his throat. No longer able to focus on the wound, he looks towards the Lord of Eregion, feeling slightly anxious. Celebrimbor had several healers on staff, ones that likely had far more training and experience than Elrond, and yet when he had gotten burned, he did not go to them. Celebrimbor does not look like his is in too much pain, which is good. His face is not set in a grimace, no furrow between his brows, and there are no tears in his eyes- in fact, Celebrimbor is giving Elrond a smile. "Thank you," Celebrimbor says softly, making to stand up. Elrond backs up to give him space, and stands as well, fidgeting with the sleeves for a moment.

"I will return shortly with the salve and bandages," Elrond says suddenly, because he desperately needs out of this forge, away from Celebrimbor's softening gaze and kind smile. He is down the stairs and out the doors before his lord can get in a word, not quite running but certainly rushing, back to his room. He can hear his heart, lodged in his throat as he collects the dried plants and herbs he has with him. He knows why he is anxious around Celebrimbor more often than the other elf lords he knows. Not only does he worry about making a fool out of himself politically, but Celebrimbor is part of his family, the only living connection he has to Maedhros and Maglor, and he desperately wants Celebrimbor to approve of him.

In Celebrimbor's smiles, his moments of calm and rationality that pull Elrond from spiraling thoughts, the way he looks at Elrond- soft, gentle, protective- Elrond sees his fathers. He was still a child when he saw them last, but he carries the memories of them close in his heart and recalls all the details of them as often as he can, lest he forget anything. To lose his memories of them, his knowledge of how they loved him, every little way, would be like losing his heart itself.

The salve is easy to make, muscle memory taking over as Elrond wanders in his thoughts. Celebrimbor seemed to have mostly painful memories of his family, and Elrond does not wish to cause him pain so he has yet to broach the subject, but there is an itch under his skin that desires to know each and every one of Celebrimbor's memories of them. There is so much he does not about them, and he longs for a chance to reunite with them, hope still present in his heart that he may one day meet Maglor again, for there are rumors that he wanders Middle Earth still.

The pestle in his hands is trembling, so he sets it down and sets a lid over the ceramic container he had made the salve in. Short, choppy breaths fall from his lips as he graps the salve and collects some bandages that he had brought with him. Elrond is used to getting minor injuries, he is more fragile than the average elf, with his being peredhel, and so always ensures that he has the necessary medical supplies to dress small wounds.

The walk back to the forge seems to stretch on, as though the Valar want to give him more time to grow anxious about attending to Celebrimbor. What if he injures him? Elrond could never forgive himself if he were to harm Celebrimbor. He has failed the descendants of Feanor far too many times already to fail Celebrimbor too. He had not been able to help Maedhros and Maglor when the oath had gotten worse, or at least not help enough so that they would not feel the need to leave him and Elros behind.

The doors of the forge appear in front of him, suddenly, and Elrond hesitates- just for a moment, the length of the sharp inhale he takes- and steps inside. It is quiet, and Elrond cringes at the way his steps echo in the large room as he approaches Celebrimbor. The smith has not moved from his spot, greeting Elrond with a small smile, one that is startlingly similar to Maglor- one that spoke of tiredness but genuine joy to see the person it is given too.

"You looked like Maglor, for a moment there." Elrond says before he can stop himself, the words spill out of him outside of his control. He stiffens, opening his mouth to apologize but Celebrimbor speaks first. Elrond scans his face, looking for any signs of pain or upset, but finds fondness instead.

"Did I really?" Celebrimbor asks, lips curled up as he looks towards Elrond with sparkling eyes. "It would not be the first time we were compared, but it has been a long time since anyone has said it, let alone kindly." There is a true joy on Celebrimbor's face, so Elrond cannot do anything but nod, breath catching in his chest.

"You did," Elrond confirms, looking away before he speaks more and makes a fool of himself. He sets down the salve and bandages, reaching out for Celebrimbor's arm but pausing before he makes contact. "May I?" He asks quietly, swallowing down the lump in his throat when Celebrimbor looks at him and all he can see are his foster fathers, suffering through Elrond's beginner healing skills and they got any sort of minor injury.

"Go ahead," Celebrimbor hums, and Elrond can feel his gaze as he carefully applies the salve and wraps the injury. It is simple, and he can almost forget that he is treating Lord Celebrimbor of Eregion, the last living blood descendant of Feanor. "Thank you." Celebrimbor tells him with a smile as Elrond finishes and steps back, looking over the now bandaged injury.

"It is no trouble. I must admit, it is flattering that you asked me to help you." Elrond laughs a bit, trying to force himself to relax and calm down. Celebrimbor has been nothing but kind to him during his stay in Eregion, that will not change now. Celebrimbor laughs as well, but it is tinged with sadness, much to Elrond's immediate concern.

"When I was young," Celebrimbor begins, shifting his gaze towards the window and fidgeting with his sleeves, "My father was not often around. He was busy, you see, with a great variety of things that are not limited to the oath. I got very close with my uncles, because at least one of them was always around, and I have a fond memory of my uncle Maglor helping me after I had scraped myself. I had thought that perhaps you might heal as he did, and you did not disappoint." Celebrimbor gave a wet laugh, wiping at his eyes and giving Elrond another smile.

Elrond can feel the wetness on his face as he starts to cry too, blinking rapidly as he stands in front of Celebrimbor. "Thank you," He replies in a hoarse voice, choked by tears. He gives Celebrimbor a smile back, because to know that at the very least, one of his father's is so deeply intertwined in his craft, his healing, is a very soothing knowledge indeed.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

I was thinking about the Little Lucky AU and found myself wondering how Ace’s reaction would have changed if he’d seen Lucky before she had a chance to heal, so here's that

Smile For Me

4.1k words

Not an experience in the world could top the feeling of the salty sea breeze whipping past him as he cut through the ocean in Striker. Ace was positive he would never grow weary of the sensation. The intoxicating views and endless freedom of it was enviable to say the least.

An unimposing wave headed straight for him, Ace only grinned and increased the speed. His prized boat ramped over the wave, temporarily becoming airborne before crashing back into the sea. Water shot up and coated him in a fine mist, enough to feel refreshing but not so much as to weaken the devil fruit user.

The figure of a ship on the horizon caught his eye. It was too far away for him to be able to identify whose it could be, but he changed course anyway. Might as well approach and ask if they know anything about that backstabbing bastard Teach.

Plus, if they turn out to be marines, he’ll get a much needed opportunity to blow off some steam.

As soon as the jolly roger was identifiable, a grin broke out across his face. It hadn’t been long since he’d last seen Luffy and his crew, but who was he to pass up such an opportunity? Besides, for all he knows they’ve heard or seen something related to Blackbeard. Though, admittedly, he’d prefer if that traitorous piece of shit never so much as made eye contact with any of them.

Especially not his niece. 

For most of his life, Ace would have never considered himself to be a family oriented man. Between the loathing for his father and complicated feelings regarding his late mother, the word ‘family’ left a bitter taste in his mouth. Sure, he eventually opened himself up enough to let his brothers in, but that felt different.

It wasn’t until his introduction to the Whitebeard pirates that he started to come around. At first, all he felt was a gnawing envy for the close knit family bond displayed by them, but as time went on and he grew closer the feeling subsided. Then he was properly assimilated into the crew- no, the family- and accepted Whitebeard’s offer to become one of his many sons. He’d never realized how badly he needed the unconditional love and support of a family until he was thrust into it. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Then there was you, his darling little niece.

Granted, calling you his niece wasn’t necessarily accurate. Luffy was distinctly not your father (Sanji would absolutely never let that mix up take place), but the term just felt right. Who cares if it wasn’t technically correct? Luffy isn’t technically his brother, and Whitebeard isn’t technically his father. Technicalities didn’t matter with them, so why should they apply with you?

Ace would be lying through his teeth if he said you weren’t the person he was most excited about seeing again. Despite not having known you for long, you’d wormed your way into his heart more than anyone ever could hope to. He’d even temporarily put his mission on hold to stay with you while in Alabasta. As much as he knew he needed to be hot on Blackbeard’s trail, he couldn’t bring himself to just leave you while in such a high risk situation. Luffy had barely set foot in the Grand Line and he’d already managed to pick a fight with a warlord. 

While that wasn’t necessarily surprising knowing his brother, what was shocking was that he was doing all this with a four year old in tow. Ace didn’t doubt Luffy’s strength by any means, but he was more unsure of his ability to multitask fighting a warlord and his army of assassins while also keeping you safe. 

That’s why he volunteered to hang back and keep an eye on you while Luffy proved himself, something he was relieved he did after seeing how banged up everyone got during the final battle. He can’t imagine you would have gotten out of that unscathed, and you were far too young to be getting caught in the crosshairs of fights of that magnitude. Just the idea of you scraping your knee made him feel sick.

He doesn’t know what he’d do if you ever got seriously injured. Or worse. He doesn’t want to even think about it.

As he closed in on the Going Merry, a familiar figure in a straw hat hopped onto the figurehead and waved his arms wildly.

Ace waved back while raking his eyes over the rest of the ship. He hoped to see your familiar head of hair peeking over the railings, but had no such luck. That’s fine, he supposes. You could be napping or simply hadn’t realized he was here yet.

The Striker slowed to a stop next to the much larger ship, and Ace barely managed to tie the rope attaching the two before he was yanked up into the rubbery arms of his brother. They both tumbled backwards on the deck with Luffy laughing boisterously.

“Ace! What are you doing here? Did you catch that guy you were looking for?” Luffy rolled off of Ace and pulled him up onto his feet.

Ace readjusted his hat, “Not yet. I was just passing by and thought I’d check in on you.” He snatched the hat off Luffy’s head with one hand and ruffled his hair with the other.

Luffy whined and swatted Ace’s hand away while trying to get his hat back. It’s then that he notices the massive burn on one of Luffy’s arms. It starts at his elbow and goes all the way down to his finger tips.

Grabbing him by the bicep, Ace pulls the arm closer to look at it, “The hell happened there?”

“Oh, that? I fought this guy with weird earlobes and he melted some gold onto my arm. I punched him with it though, you should have seen it!” Luffy grinned and puffed out his chest with pride.

“Only you would somehow neglect to mention that that psycho had lightning powers from a devil fruit,” Nami called out. She was leaning against the mast with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Small burns were littered across her arms.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” Luffy chuckled. It makes sense that he wouldn’t care as much about that part. Since Luffy is made of rubber from his own fruit, those powers would be essentially irrelevant to him. 

Ace dropped the straw hat back onto his brother’s head and playfully shoved him back, “I’ll ask more about that later. Where’s my niece at?”

Nami tensed, then shifted her weight from foot to foot, “She’s napping right now, I doubt she’ll wake up before you have to leave.” The words were spoken sharply.

“I’m sure she won’t mind being woken up when she sees her favorite uncle here. Plus, I’ve got a little present for her,” Ace replied. The last island he stopped at was known for a chewy candy made from a fruit that exclusively grew there. It was all the rage with the kids, so naturally he grabbed a couple boxes of it for you.

He made for where your room was, but Nami leapt in the way and pushed him back. “She needs her sleep, you can just leave the gift with me!” The navigator snapped at him. 

Ace’s eye twitched in annoyance. He was well aware that she wasn’t his biggest fan, but this was ridiculous. “It’s not that big of a deal. I’ll get her back to sleep myself if it matters that much to you,” he ground out. 

She opened her mouth to respond, only for Luffy to interrupt her, “Is she still napping? I thought Lucky was in the kitchen with Sanji.” 

Nami hissed at Luffy to shut up, but Ace didn’t care enough to stick around for whatever disagreement was about to break out between the two. He shoved past the redhead and bolted for the kitchen. His eyes rolled, of course she tried lying to him. He tries to smuggle his niece off the ship one time and she has to go and make a whole song and dance out of it. It was just a joke!

The door to the kitchen was thrown open with what was probably more force than necessary. The doorknob loudly collided with the wall, something that Thatch would scold him for doing if he was here.

The crack of the collision wasn’t the only thing he heard. It was immediately drowned out by a shrill scream. Yours.

He hadn’t even gotten a good look at you yet, all he’d seen was a blur as you leapt from the counter you were sitting on and clung onto Sanji like your life depended on it. Ace’s heart was in his throat from the sight. The last thing he ever wanted to do was scare you. He didn’t remember you being this jumpy last time he’d seen you.

The guilt was piled on more when a small sob could be heard, too.

Sanji cradled you to his chest, whispering soft words of assurance before whipping around with the coldest look on his face. Surprise momentarily flashed across his face before being replaced with an even angrier expression. A hand came up to push your head further into his chest.

“Don’t slam the damn door! What is wrong with you?!” He whisper yelled.

Ace held up his hands in defense, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I would scare her.” He took cautious, quiet steps towards you and Sanji, “Hey, Lucky. I’m sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Your hands were clamped over your ears, but his voice appeared to have still gotten through. Gingerly, you lowered your hands and whispered a tearful, “Uncle Ace?”

Ace, however, was too shocked to hear it. Actually, shocked wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how he was feeling. Horrified was more fitting. Your arms were covered in scabbed over burns. That was bad enough, but what really got to him was the bruising around your neck.

Someone had strangled his niece.

What happened to you? Who did this? And where are they right now? Ace needed to know so he could personally finish them off.

You’d finally turned to face him, and the tears and busted lip did nothing to calm him. The fire that made up his very being crackled dangerously beneath his skin, and it took every bit of self control he had to keep himself from torching the kitchen.

It wasn’t until you held out your burnt arms to him that he snapped out of the rage he was in and rushed forward to snatch you out of Sanji’s arms and into his own. Despite the cook’s protest, you eagerly clambered onto Ace. Your much smaller limbs locked onto him and you buried your face into his neck while sniffling pitifully. 

Ace bounced you gently, but refrained from speaking. His anger still had a hold on him, and he wasn’t sure he trusted himself to not let it show quite yet.

Nami entered the kitchen, appearing visibly uncomfortable and tense.

The control Ace had regarding holding his tongue went out the damn window. He all but snarled at her, “Is this why you didn’t want me to see her?”

“Don’t pick a fight with her, Ace,” Sanji put himself in between them. 

Ace scoffed at the warning, but he had no intention of starting a fight. You’d already been subjected to more fighting than you ever should have been. What you needed right now was some fresh air, and honestly he needed to step away from this situation for a bit before he exploded. Going for a ride on Striker should do the trick.

He shouldered past them, tightly clutching you to him. Nami and Sanji were hot on his heels as he headed straight for where his boat was tied off.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Nami demanded. Her hand shot out and latched onto Ace’s backpack, successfully bringing him to a halt. This was not well received by Ace, who then whipped around to shove her away.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Luffy came bounding over, looking thoroughly confused about the altercation. “What happened?”

“I should be asking all of you that!” Ace raised his voice, though immediately regretted it when he felt you flinch. He spoke in a lower tone next, “I’m taking her for a ride on Striker, she looks like she could stand to have some fun for once. You’re all going to tell me what happened when we come back.”

“Absolutely not! Are you insane, why would we let you run off with her?!” Nami made a move to come closer and grab you, but Luffy blocked her. If looks could kill, Luffy would be dead several times over.

Luffy ignored Nami’s venomous gaze and stepped close enough to rest a hand on your back, “Do you wanna go with Ace?” His tone was more soothing and gentle than Ace had previously thought it was capable of being.

You turned your head just enough to be able to look at him over your shoulder. For a moment you mulled over what to say. Your voice was hushed, like you were afraid to make too much noise. Or maybe because your throat ached too much to speak up. Both possibilities made Ace’s blood boil.

“Y-Yeah… It sounds fun, I guess.”

Luffy grinned warmly, patting your back before stepping away, “Alright! Have fun, Lucky!”

Nami and Sanji both started to protest, but Ace didn’t care enough to stick around and hear it. After muttering a quick ‘thanks’ to Luffy for being the most reasonable person here (something he never thought would ever be the case), Ace finished the rest of the short walk to where Striker was. He dropped down onto it and made quick work of untying the boat.

Just like that, you two were off. As much as he wanted to take off at max speed, he kept the pace leisurely. There was no rush, and he did not want to startle you again. 

Your face was back to being firmly planted in his neck, and you haven’t said anything since answering Luffy. You haven’t smiled at all since he’s seen you.

Ace didn’t know what to do. Comforting people has never been his strong suit. Luffy had learned to roll with the punches of his toughlove growing up, but you weren’t Luffy. And Ace wasn’t the same kid with a shitty attitude that he used to be, either. For now, he’ll wait for you to come around on your own. He’s sure you will, you did agree to come with him after all. 

Eventually, he felt your head move, followed by the sensation of you propping your chin up on his shoulder. At least you were finally taking in the sights. Feeling like he was making progress, Ace takes his chance and tries to start a conversation with you.

“It’s a nice view, right?”

“Mmhm.”

A silence fell over you two again. That was… something? At least he got a response, however brief. It was odd for you to be this quiet. Back when you all were in Alabasta you were a little chatterbox. 

The question of what exactly happened loomed over him. Who could do this to a child? What kind of a monster does someone need to be to do this? The idea that anyone could so much as think of hurting his niece made him feel sick. Learning who was responsible would have to wait until later, though. He wasn’t about to risk making you more upset by asking you about it.

This whole situation was extremely frustrating. You deserved nothing but good things in his humble opinion, not this horrible abuse and suffering.

A realization hit him. The candy! He’d completely forgotten about it after seeing you. Maybe that’ll be enough to put a smile on your face.

You’d traveled far enough that the Going Merry was barely visible, so he should be able to take a break and sit down with you for a moment. He might even be able to get you talking. Though honestly, just seeing you look happy would be more than enough for him.

The Striker slowed to a stop until it was doing nothing more than drifting with the current of the ocean. He felt you perk up and look around.

“Why did we stop? Is your boat broken?” The stress in your voice was palpable.

“No, no, no! Everything’s fine! I just remembered that I had a present for you, that’s all!” Ace hastily reassured you, feeling bad that he’d made you worry for even a second. He shifted you to one side and sat down. He attempted to put you down across from him, but the instant panic in your eyes and you clinging to his arms put a stop to that.

So now you were perched on his lap while he rummaged through his rucksack. While you did appear to be mildly interested in what he was doing, your eyes were lacking any real excitement. You were more invested in clinging to him and taking in your surroundings.

Ace was beginning to think he’d lost the candy when his fingers grazed the ribbon bound box hiding at the bottom of his bag. “Here it is!” The package was pulled out and the bag discarded to the side while he held it out to you.

There was a bit of hesitation on your part, but then you slowly took it from him with a small ‘thank you’. You carefully examined the box while lightly picking at the ribbon, “What is it?”

“You’ll know if you open it,” he jostled you a little while trying to encourage you.

Slowly, you tugged at the ribbon, watching with a blank expression as it came undone. Ace took it from you once it was off so you could keep your hands free. The lid was pried off next, revealing the candies inside. Sunlight reflected off the sugar coating the light pink treats, making them appear even more enticing.

Ace watched with trepidation as you eyed them, and almost sighed in relief when you picked up a piece. You scrutinized the candy, sniffed it, then finally popped it into your mouth.

Your face remained neutral briefly as you first bit into it. Then, finally, your eyes widened, and the faintest hint of a smile began to tug at the corner of your lips. You chewed more vigorously and dug two more pieces out of the box.

“That good, huh? I’m glad you like them, Lucky,” Ace moved your hair out of your face as the ocean’s breeze blew the strands about. 

An idea occurred to him at that moment. Moving the ribbon he’d been holding to his mouth, he gathered up your hair and pulled it back. After a messy attempt to finger comb it, he took the ribbon and wrapped it around your hair. He tried his best to tie it into a nice looking bow but… it was bad. One loop was noticeably bigger than the other and the way the knot was tied made it look extremely lopsided. 

Good thing you couldn’t see it.

Suddenly, you turned around in his lap and held up a piece of candy to him. Ace smiled at the gesture, “I got those for you, kid. You enjoy them.”

“I wanna share it,” your tone and serious expression left little room for argument, especially when you started persistently pushing the sugary treat against his mouth. Taking it into his mouth, the first thing he registered about it was how sweet it was. His face scrunched up involuntarily, this was much sweeter than he liked his food to be. Ace could only hope you would be content with this and wouldn’t insist on sharing any more with him.

A soft giggle cut through the air, surprising him so much that he almost choked on the candy. He looked down at you, and sure enough, you were actually smiling.

“Your face was funny,” you mumbled, averting your eyes back to the half empty box in your hands.

“Was it?” Ace laughed. He swore he could feel a weight being lifted from his shoulders thanks to seeing you in better spirits. He swallowed the candy, glad to be rid of it. Hazarding another glance at you, he noticed you were starting to absentmindedly pick at one of your scabs. His hand shot out and pulled the offending hand away, “Don’t do that, it’s not gonna heal if you pick at it.”

You flinched and whined from the contact, making him let go in a panic. In his rush to grab your wrist, he’d unknowingly squeezed one of your many burns. Well then. Now he felt like a piece of shit.

“I’m sorry, I should have been paying more attention to where I was grabbing,” Ace very gently brought you in for a hug, hoping that he didn’t accidentally touch any other injuries.

“It’s okay,” you sniffled. 

“All these must hurt a lot, huh?”

You nodded, “Yeah… It always hurts.”

Ace frowned. It wasn’t right that you had to be in agony around the clock because his brother’s crew dropped the ball when it came to protecting you. He might not know what happened yet, but he knows they’re all feeling guilty for it based on how shifty and defensive Nami got.

Wait.

Now that he’s thinking about it, there is a way to make all your pain go away.

“You know… One of my brothers could heal you right up.”

You cocked your head to the side, eyebrows knitted together, “Is he a doctor? Chopper is already doing that.”

“He is a doctor, but he’s a doctor with a devil fruit that can heal any injury. On himself and on others,” he leaned in closer to explain this, as if he was sharing a secret. “Not only that, but he can do it in seconds.”

“Really? That’s so cool!” Your eyes were wide and rapt with interest.

“Really! We can go see him right now, how does that sound?”

Uncertainty pulled at your face, and you shifted in his lap, “Now? But what about everyone else? They’ll be all worried if we don’t come back.”

“It’ll be fine! Besides, once they see you healed up they’ll be happy about it!” Ace knew they were going to be pissed about him leaving with you, but he didn’t want you thinking about that. He needs you to focus on how nice it’ll be when you aren’t constantly hurting, “Don’t you want to feel better sooner?”

“I do… Are you sure they won’t be mad?” 

“Of course! Seeing you happy and healthy will make your being gone for a little bit all worth it, I promise!” Okay, realistically some of them will still be mad, but only at him. He knows that Luffy will appreciate it at the very least, and his opinion is the only one that matters to Ace.

“Plus, if we go to Whitebeard’s ship now, you’ll be able to meet Kotatsu. You still want to see him, right?” If the medical treatment couldn’t get you over the barrel, he’s sure the promise of a cat will.

“The kitty?! Yeah, I wanna see him! Let’s go!”

Bingo. Convincing you was easier than he thought it was going to be. 

Ace tossed your box of candy back into his bag and scooped your excited self into his arms. You were downright giddy and it was relieving to say the least. It would be even better when those nasty burns and bruises were nothing more than an awful memory.

Now that you were in a better mood, he fully utilized how fast his boat could go. Small but delighted giggles came from you as the Striker effortlessly cut through the water.

Everyone was going to be more than a little surprised to see Ace come home with a kid given that he hasn’t gotten the chance to tell them about you yet, but he knows they’ll love you just as much as he does. If they could welcome him into their crew despite how hostile he was when they first met, you’ll be adored by them in a matter of seconds.

Ace won’t even need to ask Marco to treat you, he’ll be all over you the second he lays eyes on your battered form. And Pops isn’t exactly the type to turn away a little kid, especially one that’s family.

Honestly, they might not even want to let you go after they get a chance to know you.

[cancerian-woman]

Hi! I hope I don’t word this wrong, so sorry if I do, but if Hope had a black/non-white mother, do you think the Mikaelsons would’ve treated her differently? I think you (or maybe it was someone else) spoke about how they treated Marcel was part because he wasn’t blood related to them and part to do with race, so I thought it would be interesting (?) Again, sorry if this is worded weird, I don’t mean it too

Hi, I get what you meant no worries. I’m gonna answer this backwards though lol. Long post warning. I had to grab my receipts.

Yes, Marcel is treated differently because of his race but that’s because the writers 1.) needed the diversity quota filled and 2.) wrote dynamics in for anti-blackness to exist. The narrative that the black child couldn’t heal a family but Hope the white one will. Suddenly having more black/of color actors in the cast but only because white characters are using their bodies. Slavery. That’s relatively differently than a woman of color in Hayley’s spot. Hayley existed as the werewolf queen, girl with no parents who had a child and wants better for her…

Before I say my thoughts I don’t think Phoebe Tonkin had to do much to get her role as Hayley. Kevin Williamson loved her and wanted her in TVD, TSC was done. Then she got Hayley in TVD. She knew she was doing a spin-off.

No black woman or WOC would have gotten the role that easy. I’m calling a spade a spade. The industry wasn’t taking a big risk on black women(and of color) leading TV back then Kerry Washington spoke on this. This is different from sitcoms that targeted just black audiences if that makes sense.

Hypothetically speaking if the lead of TO was a woman of color I assume to make the show successful still amongst their racial bias to someone the writers would do the work to make the character enjoyable on-screen for everyone. Making a black woman/of color a lead is an intentional choice. For example Kat Graham(listen around the 3minute mark) has recently shared that she could only audition for Bonnie. No one else was considered for her and she was presented Bonnie. See how that’s very different from Phoebe’s experience? If Hayley is black/of color then Hope would be biracial, that is something the writers would have to grow within the characters. You cannot ignore that.

To end this off I would hope and imagine"Hayley" as a black woman or whomever filled the position was treated fairly and accepted within the character and through the actress. I don’t think the Mikaelsons would have done wrong by her. They loved Hayley. Dysfunctional yes but they did care for her.

Using Kat Graham’s experiences as examples you can’t Bamon Ban a lead’s relationships, you can’t kill off every black person related to her, intentionally sideline a minority and underpay a minority. You can’t be on Twitter (Julie) bashing their fans and them. Or having a meltdown because said black woman is paired with your fave man and more. Hell, Kat Graham wasn’t allowed to attend cons with the main cast until the later seasons. Joseph Morgan actually went before she did.

The fanbase would not have been as welcoming to a black woman in the role and definitely not to a biracial child in the plot. I’ve said it before in various spaces and gotten backlash but even Hope has more characteristics that tie her to Bonnie than her own mother but it pisses people off lmao.

Hope I answered this well for you💜

[iwriteloveletters]

Birthday Gift Ghoul!Eren x Reader

TW - slight gore, mentions of scars, self-isolation, biting, blood, mentions of bones breaking, the author might've gotten some things wrong about tokyo ghoul and he is sorry. Authors note will be added at the end.

Words - 2.5k

Your life completely fell apart because of a date. You lied in a hospital bed on the verge of dying because of a date. You were supposed to die at least, it was expected of you from everyone including your own family. But there you were, alive–your brain showed signs of activity despite the comatose state you were in and your wounds healed near perfectly despite the unflattering scar that covered your throat. You beat the odds within a week after the accident, but at what cost?

Simple, you lost every right to call yourself human. You appeared human but the naked eye could easily tell you were anything but that if they truly observed you, from your sickly appearance to your strange habits you have developed shortly after the freakish accident; such as the way you go to the bathroom between every few bites of food without explaining why and the sudden aversion you had towards anything that involved sitting and eating with others. 

‘Ghoul’ was the name society has given to people in your predicament. They were the uncanny creatures of the night, they survived off human flesh and blood; they were the biggest threat to society. Man's true predator. You became the predator, and you hated him for putting you at the top of the food chain. 

He was your boyfriend, Eren Jaeger; he was a young man you had a project with in your first year of university and by the second semester you were dating. Two years have passed since that project and you’ve loved each other unconditionally the entire time, he knew you like the back of his own hand and as did you, up until the accident. 

It was your birthday that day and Eren said he made reservations for a restaurant you had wanted to try before it even opened. You were ecstatic about this for a plethora of reasons but the most important reason was you were having dinner with Eren, for the two years you have been dating you could only recall having two dinners… maybe three together. He always avoided the possibility of having dinner with you, he never explained why and you eventually gave up on asking him and decided that he must’ve had a medical condition that he didn’t feel too keen on sharing with you; you respected that even though you spent some days yearning for those 3AM trips to the convenience store for snacks with Eren, something that you never got to experience with him. The past was officially behind you now however when there’s finally a plan to have dinner with him, it was a perfect birthday gift for you. 

The evening you shared at the restaurant was nice, there wasn’t a dress code meaning you were able to dress comfortably but still look your best for pictures you wanted to take with him to showcase this once-in-a-lifetime ordeal with your boyfriend. He ate very little and excused himself once or twice, this was a habit of his when you did have dinner together. It never bothered you though. 

Dinner concludes for the night, you and Eren took more than enough pictures for memories of such a special day, and you both had a good time overall. You were more than thankful for the night Eren provided.

The two of you walked hand and hand down the streets of the city, it was 10 PM by this point and you both walked in silence. This was a moment of peace for you, if you could relive any moment it would have been this one.

“Let’s take a detour, wanna show you somethin’.” Eren broke the silence all while walking down a completely different path, pulling you from the direction of your apartment where your friends and family were waiting to sing happy birthday and cut you the first slice of your favorite cake. 

You didn’t think twice about his decision to go to a different location, he was spontaneous at times and you loved that. There was an element of surprise to these sudden detours he had taken with you, perhaps he had a gift for you all things considered? The idea of a present after dinner excited you.

You two ended up at a bridge not too far, the water underneath sparkled beautifully before you, and the moon was as full as can be. It was a beautiful sight to share with your favorite person who stood closely by your side the entire time.

“You love me right?” He snapped you out of your thoughts, he rarely asked for reassurance, it wasn’t like him to do so. It felt strange to hear him ask such a question but you’d never let him second guess for a moment that he went unloved. 

You chuckled and pulled him into an embrace, one that he returned happily. 

“Of course I do,” you nodded before burying your face into his sweatshirt and inhaling his scent, he smelled slightly like coffee paired with his usual laundry detergent; it was a scent you’ve loved ever since you’ve been able to hold him close and smell it, you were obsessed with how the scent of coffee beans were practically attached to his skin, clothes, and even lingered in his home at times. It provided the familiarity that you loved in your life.

He let out a small hum and nodded all while keeping a secure hold on you, “no matter what?” he questions again. 

“No matter what,” you assured him once more, you were growing worried for Eren now. You desperately wanted to know what it was that was making him feel insecure, maybe it was tonight's dinner, it was such a rare occurrence that it was possible that something that happened caused this level of sudden insecurity, “are you okay Eren?”

Eren nods again, tightening his hold on you to where it was growing slightly uncomfortable, “yeah,” he spoke in a whisper. 

You let out a squeak when you felt your ribs ache from the pressure of his tight embrace, you tried to pull away and break the hug once and for all but he only held you tighter than before. 

“Eren…” you spoke in a certain tone to signal that he was taking it too far right now, “c’mon you’re gonna snap me in half.” you tried to chuckle despite the current restriction you experienced, you knew he didn’t mean it but sometimes it felt like he wasn’t even aware of his strength some days, there were many instances where he hugged you with more strength than you were comfortable with. All it took was a nudge back into the right direction though, this was surely one of those moments where you had to redirect him. 

“I know,’ he confirmed, “just relax, yeah?” His tone felt something beyond lighthearted, he was supposed to mirror you–like always–but this time felt different; his tone was flat and there was nothing sweet about his awareness. 

You had felt his arms pull you as close as humanly possible against his chest, his heartbeat was faint but it could still be heard considering how uncomfortably close you were to him. You tried to push him away once again but it quickly proved to be futile, it was almost suffocating for you.

“Eren…” your tone was strained since he was slowly but surely squeezing the air out of your lungs. 

“Relax.” He repeated, “relax and I’ll explain it all later.” his hand finds its way to the back of your head to smoothen out your hair, an act that was supposed to provide comfort for you but this was beyond comforting.

Before you could say anything else or ask what was wrong with him you felt him squeeze the air out of you one last time, you heard various cracks go down your back, it was relieving for a split second till you felt your chest burn horribly. 

You took a sharp breath due to the ache and it burned even more, something wasn’t right. The burn worsened and you heard sounds that weren’t cracks coming from your tense back… they were the sounds of your bones snapping. He was breaking your ribs.

Your trembling hands found their way to press against his chest and you finally got a look at his face once you created an inch of space between you and him, the man that was snapping you in pieces wasn’t the man you’ve loved more than anything else. He was a monster, a ghoul in its truest form. Huge red irises with black scleras met yours. Though his eyes held no hunger in them the way the media describes the looks a ghoul would give a human. You couldn’t see anything in his typically expressive eyes in fact, only he knew his own intentions with you and that was something he was more than happy to keep to himself.

Your mouth opened but no scream alerted anyone who may have been walking by or in the vicinity. Only heavy, shaky breaths found its way to fill the atmosphere between you both. All you could do was meekly slam your hands into his chest to defend yourself, you were growing weaker by the second the more you became aware of your current state and anything else to protect yourself from him was impossible to do.

“I love you.” He stated like a fact before he bared his teeth at you, his teeth appeared normal but it sent a wave a dread through you knowing that might pierce your flesh and provide Eren with his fill for the night. This was your birthday night.

His declaration of love was the last thing you heard before he sunk his teeth deep into your throat, before you blacked out completely you felt his tongue run against the bloodied skin of your neck. 

You remember nothing after that point, you plummeted straight into darkness for the next week. Everyone in your life was horrified and the authorities never caught the ‘unknown’ ghoul who almost took your life that night. This was a stressful time for both your loved ones and your newly developing body that forced you to survive your injuries. 

It’s officially been a month since the accident, a month since your birthday, and a month since you’ve seen or heard from Eren. 

He dropped out of university shortly after and there was no word on when or if he’d return, his closest friends Mikasa and Armin told you nothing and avoided you in fact. It was like you two never dated in their eyes. You felt angry and lost by this point, you had to withdraw from your old life similarly to the way he withdrew from his own. You barely spoke with your loved ones and you hated leaving your house and smelling all the disgustingly delicious scents that lingered amongst your peers distressed you. You had to go as far as to switch to online courses till you knew how to control your appetite in public. You had to quit your job on top of that, luckily your parents were willing to pay for your necessities and rent, you were eternally grateful for their support. Had it not been for them you could’ve been left on the streets or stuck in their house while you were barely adjusting.

This was all until you adjusted to your new lifestyle; that’s how you eased your otherwise restless mind when it became tough. As much as you hated Eren, you could respect him for managing class, work, friends and a long term relationship while he was most likely craving a taste of his peers. It made you wonder how he made having sex possible in the first place, the thought of your mouth near a human made your stomach hurt, your heart race, and your mouth water all at once. It made you wanna know why he would put you through this and then disappear from your life indefinitely. No one knew of your predicament and you didn’t know anything about interacting in ghoul society–if they had one at least. You were growing distressed at this point.

The question of his choices was something that frequently crossed your mind, an array of why’s echoed in your lonely home. Especially when you got hungry, you never ate a person–you refused–you had to settle for raw meat as an alternative, it only kept you satisfied for a small period of time. Your hunger would simply worsen as days went by though, and all you could do is sob in your kitchen asking Eren ‘why?’. You were always met with the hum of your pathetically empty fridge for an answer whilst you held a half eaten chicken breast you bought that day.

You went to do your weekly meat pickup at a local supermarket today, it was the middle of the day on a Tuesday and there weren't too many people to trigger that horrible appetite of yours. It was a great opportunity to shop and everything was going well till an employee cut herself with a boxcutter while trying to open a box that contained the product. 

You were in another aisle at the time but the smell of her blood was overwhelmingly strong, it was a mixture of metal and your all-time favorite meal that effortlessly filled your senses. It made you sick to your stomach all while making it rumble loudly in your ears, a signal of hunger you ignore far too often. You could feel your muscles flex and tense while you tried to maintain your composure, you squeezed your knuckle till you felt your nails dig into your skin–anything as a means to stabilize yourself. But like your prior attempts to prevent your ‘accident’ it was all futile, your body was against you and you heard a voice practically commanding you to tear her piece by piece and freeze the leftovers for later. You had to drop everything you were planning to buy and rush out of the store and straight home due to the stress of it all. At least you could be surrounded by your own scent and nothing else that could be tempting to you. 

As you entered your home you felt a little bit more at ease but you knew something wasn’t right, you smelled him. The faint scent of him was in the air and you felt your blood boil the more you smelled it.

“Where are you, bastard?” you called out into the dark apartment, you didn’t want him to feel welcomed in your space after he ruined you and left you to figure out your new life on your own. 

You were met with no response, you figured he left till you entered your room and he was at your desk, as if this was a study date you both planned. Anger and relief hit you all at once but you wanted to hit him harder.

“Get out.” you commanded and pointed to the doorway. 

He turned around, his eyes were green just like before. It felt like a cruel joke to see him appear human again when you both knew he would never be one. Neither will you and you both knew that too.

“Let me explain myself and I’ll help you.”

A/N- hiii cherub here with something that isn’t just a random post… haha… i hope you guys like this bc i rlly rlly wanted to write something for my boy again </33 i love him smmmmmm!!!! also i have not finished tokyo ghoul (i buy the physical manga to read bc i don’t like reading on my phone and the anime isn’t even worth it) so im super sorry if i was a bitttt inaccurate ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

but i hope you made it this far and enjoyed, i want to try to write on here again but it will def take time considering my lack of creativity, i had to listen to the same song on loop for an hour and watch the same tokyo ghoul edit for two days to rlly get in the mood to write this… i love ghouls, cannibals, and eren so this was tons of fun to write! see ya next time!! <3 - Cherub

[dairy-farmer]

Did you know~? Dreams are how the mind subconsciously processes information and our emotions ABOUT the information for us while we are asleep?

:Dc

Gotham Sure Does Have Cults! Don't it? Bet some of them get the bright idea to Capture God(tm). Which ALWAYS ends well, and TOTALLY doesn't lend to them fighting back! Getting the attention of Local Bats!

What with the Lethal, Diving People Too Insanity Nightmares going around.

They're gonna go out on a limb and guess Dream God. Sleep Deity, perhaps. The track the Cult down. Burst in and kick ass. As a Family~

And? The God can admit... they were kinda losing. Humans cheat and these fuckers were VERY prepared. They were gonna Curse this city to unending torment with their dying breathe... BUT! They don't need to do that now! Good for you!

They should probably...reward you or something.

Protocol, you know.

Uuuuuuh, hold on. *look around* Got it! Here. Take these handfull of shiny rocks. Yes, I'm stealing them from the Cultists. They were decorating anyway. Anyway! HERE. I give you A Blessing(tm).

THESE will give you Good Sleep.

One for each of you.

To make up for, you know, tormenting you into intense sleep deprivation, when that is the opposite of my Job. And then you saved me and all. Thanks~☆ *poof!*

It's? A fuckin weird day in Gotham. So basically, just Tuesday. They each take a rock and split, dispite Bruce's paranoid "wait, no! We should lock these up and stare at them suspiciously! Unknown magic! I have anxiety!" Twitching. They're gonna go pass out know. Someone call the commissioner and tell him it's safe now.

They get home, crawl out of their uniforms, into their various beds (even Bruce, as bullied and enforced by Alfred) and give no real thought to their new, divinely gifted, Dream Rock. Probably should have. The magic users would have Lost Their SHIT over those rocks. But, Bats? Telling people things? Voluntarily???

LOL.

And? Of too the first genuinely peaceful, guilt free, nightmare free, night of sleep they've had in A WHILE. As the Rocks get a feel for them. What they WANT out of a Good Sleep experience. Is it walking on the beach? Beating up bad guys and saving the day? A night at home? The Dream Stones shuffling through Pleasant Memories and Happy Thoughts looking for material to work off of.

And... huh. They wake up feeling FANTASTIC.

Turns out? When you actually DO get a good night's rest? No tossing or turning, no night terrors or full body clenching of muscles? Your body heals up. You feel better.

Wild.

These rocks are fantastic.

The give it now more thought. Oh sure, they discuss it. Trial period etc. But? It's all just peaceful meadows and seeing loved ones happy. The classics. Expected, really. So they move on. All while the stones are still finishing their Refining.

Eventually? Ding! They're done! They've gotten a full read of their owner! Know EXACTLY what they want. What would make them happy. So, when the Bat's finally hit the hay? They run their REFINED Dream sequence. Dreaming PLUS, if you will.

It's a school night. So Damian, unfairly in his mind, must go to bed first. Though sleep is not the unpleasant thing it once was. Usually filled with fluffy animals. This time? It's different.

He dreams of entering the Batcave. Taller, stronger. The height and frame he is destined to inherit from his father, finally his. The black armor of The Bat adorning him. Timothy is there. Captured, arms bound behind his back, gagged and on his knees, face pressed to the floor. His armor almost artfully destroyed by battle.

He has cat ears and a tail.

Yet this, like every other jarring detail, seems so perfectly natural. Of course he does. Of course Damian is. Nothing is strange to Damian, as he observes the ears pressed back. The whipping, furious defiance of that tail. The low growl that goes with it. Timothy's eyes catching the light. Beautiful and unbreakable.

Damian strides forward.

They back and forth. Word play sharp and cutting. But Damian has WON and they both know it. Timothy fights now only to save face. Enough is enough. Timothy is haughty. Every bit, beautiful and feline.

Damian has his mouth and DARES him to bite him.

Tear apart the ruins of his armor and claims him on the floor. Is he little NOW, Timothy? Can you ignore him still? The game is over. Admit you've lost! Admit it! The pleasure is too much. His Rival thrashing, biting his lip. Trying to hold back. Unable too in the end. Damian wins. Timothy begs. More, more. Please, it is good. More!

Damian...was NOT aware of the root of his need to fight with Tim. Will not know how to face him come morning.

In his Apartment, Dick drags his aching body into bed. It was a shit day. At least his dreams will be nice. He falls asleep. Blinks "awake" with an OOF! As Tim lands on him with a laugh. Is confused but pleased to see him.

Tim clings. Dotes on him. Bringing breakfast, activities just for them, initiating more casual touch then he has in YEARS. Then? When they get back from what feels like the perfect day out? Dick finds himself doing something he would never DARE. Coming up behind that trusting, warm, cute little body. As Tim chatters and puts things away. And slipping his arms around him. Holding him.

Kissing his neck. Slipping his hand down the front of those cute shorts, to start rubbing him through his panties. Get him wet.

Picking him up and bending him over the back of a couch, so he can tug those bottoms down. Eat him out. Make filthy promises to treat his virgin hole just right. Keep him forever. Listen to him whine and feel him squirm, having never been touched like this before.

Dick wouldn't... wouldn't...

But the dream feels so good. Carrying his Timmy to his room, like a lover. Promising to take such good care of him. Fucking him open on his fingers, then his cock. Kissing his face and neck and perfect little tits. Grinding his clit with his thumb as he finds that perfect angle and pounds til Tim has nothing left to give.

Just the two of them against the world. As pretty little family.

Which will make things awkward with Babs, if she wasn't having her own dreams.

Sitting at her computer. Watching Tim writhing and coming apart at the touch of her keystrokes. Making him wear remote controlled toys. Matching them on herself. Lazy days at the Clockwork, with Tim beneath her desk, a fucking machine in him, his desperate mouth on her.

Flashes and scenarios of what she and Dick could DO to him. Watching Dick fuck her boy sloppy. Not letting EITHER of her boys stop until she was satisfied.

Jason getting a classic. Boyfriend shirt and pizza. Railed on his shitty couch as the movie plays. Like lovers. Newlyweds. Coming home and trying to put a baby in Timmers on his fancy ass mattress in a cheap ass frame. Full on mating press, legs basicly to his ears. Timbers begging for it, needy. Taking it like a champion.

And Bruce? Oh he gets silks and his mothers pearls. The suits he wishes he could get Tim to wear, with stockings hidden underneath. Dinner and dancing. Gotham at peace. Tim looking at him with adoration.

Like a Classy Romance from the movies of his youth. Everything rose petals and candle light. Tim TAKING it, dispite how difficult it is for partners to handle him. Everything being tight and slick and hot. Bruce being ruinous in how good he is. No one will ever be able to compare. Tim is his. Just his.

Waking up and nearly yeeting the Dram Stone through the nearest wall.

Tim of course... dream fucks several teammates, a couple Hot Celebrities, and that one GORGEOUS Alien Prince from that one mission when he was like 14. *siiiiiips morning coffee* was an interesting night. Given everyone's thousand yard stare, good to see it wasn't just him who Learned Some Stuff About Themselves last night.

He'll agree not to ask if they don't?

DEAL.

-🐼🐼🐼

everyone but tim grappling with their own existence, morality, and guilt at the breakfast table 😭😭😭

[thevegandarkelf]

One Tradition At A Time

18+ for mature content/themes, minors DNI

This oneshot features my OC Lydia Vector (Vec) from my main story ‘Finding Myself, Finding You.’ It is not necessary to read that story first, but there are small references to it made throughout this.

A year into their relationship, Vec’s determined to help Daryl heal his inner chid and give him experiences he missed out on as a kid, starting with a simple Halloween tradition. But it brings up a lot of buried emotions for Daryl, more than Vec could’ve prepared for.

We have Insecure!Daryl in this one. This made me a little emotional when writing it, I won’t lie. I just want our sweet archer to be protected at all costs.

AO3 link

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x OC

Genres: Fluff, angsty (hurt to comfort)

Era: Alexandria, pre-Saviors

Word count: 6.5k

Trigger/content warnings: swearing, mentions of panic attacks and PTSD, allusions to Daryl’s traumatic childhood, slight sexual content but no smut, mentions of queasiness/gagging/stomach heaving

@sunnykittyzz you wanted to be tagged in this <3

Lydia Vector (Vec), her parents, her siblings & this story (c) me, thevegandarkelf. Glinda & The Wizard of Oz (c) Warner Bros

Happy Halloween ya gorgeous humans 🖤🎃🍁👻🍂💀🧡

“Found this in the basement.” Michonne tossed the velvet material in my direction, which I successfully caught mid-air. “It looks like it would fit you.” I shook the garment out in front of me, the small amount of dust that’d accumulated on it flying in all directions, eliciting a cough from me. Eyeing it up and down, a small smile crossed my lips.

“I hope you’re right,” I replied.

I stepped into the bathroom, pulling the door behind me. I slipped my glasses off and set them on the side of the sink, folding the arms in and resting them next to the bar of lemon-scented soap. I tugged my shirt off over my head, letting it slide off my arms onto the floor at my feet. Taking the black garment, I slid it over my head, bringing my arms through the sleeves and the torso over my curves. I draped my hair over my shoulder and adjusted my bra before reaching for my glasses again. I pushed them back up and scrunched my nose a few times, a small, quirky habit of mine to get my glasses in the most comfortable position. Flattening out my flyaways, I admired my reflection for a moment before joining Michonne once again.

I’d been at Alexandria for well over a year now. Being able to call this community my home and the people in it my family was one of the biggest wins, one of the best things I could’ve asked for in the end of the world. The biggest win, of course, was meeting and falling in love with a certain rugged, rough-and-tumble archer.

Over the last year, he was there for me through everything, loved me through every panic attack and PTSD meltdown. Held me every time I woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare and was beyond patient when it came to physical intimacy. The man was a saint, and to this day, I don’t know how I got so damn lucky to be able to call him mine. Now, though, it was my turn to help him.

Anyone who’d gotten to know Daryl knew, to some degree, of his tumultuous childhood. He’d never explicitly said it, but I was almost certain he’d never experienced a proper holiday. No decorating a Christmas tree or gathering around a table full of home-cooked food on Thanksgiving. This year, I was aiming to change that.

Based on the changing of the leaves, it was sometime in October, and the idea that I’d had scratching at the inside of my brain for weeks was finally able to come to fruition.

While Daryl had been out on a hunt all day, I’d gone around to each house, asking everyone if I could rummage through their basements in search of old Halloween costumes left behind by past residents. Most didn’t have any, or if they did, it either didn’t fit or wasn’t my style. Michonne, however, managed to find a witch costume stowed away in a plastic bin that was likely older than both of us. It was a velvet black dress with a gorgeous v-shaped neckline whose point stopped just above my chest, adorned with bell sleeves and a frayed hem. There was a faux-corset backing, which consisted of small rings and a silky black ribbon. It could be tightened a little, but was mostly meant to function as decoration. The costume came with a black pointed hat, and I had a pair of fishnets at home to complete the look.

But the costume was only one step of my plan.

We’d been able to grow some pumpkins in the garden, but since our food supply was diligently tracked and kept under a hawk-like watchful eye, it was trickier to get my hands on those. Maggie agreed to sneak a couple away for me if I promised to clean her bathroom, which I happily agreed to since it meant getting my hands on the most crucial piece of the puzzle. She managed to get two small ones with ease, insisting on exchanging them with me behind my house at the crack of dawn like we were participating in some kind of back-alley drug deal.

“Sorry they’re so small. They’re all I could get my hands on,” she’d told me.

“No need to apologize,” I assured, “you don’t know how much it means that you did this for me. Thank you.”

Even sweet little Judith was dressed up in a cow costume, the hood pulled up around her head adorned with ears, eyes, and a snout. Having her along wasn’t originally part of my plan, but after finding the costume buried with mine, I knew I had to give her baby’s first Halloween.

“Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” Michonne asked, doing her best impression of Glinda from The Wizard of Oz.

“Depends on the context,” I smirked, biting the interior of my bottom lip, “and who you ask.”

“How does it feel? You look great,” she complimented as she bounced Judith in her arms. The little one made a series of delighted gurgles and babbles as she scanned me over. “I think she agrees.”

“I mean, it’s a bit short, but…” I did a small twirl, the frayed edges of the hem flowing around my thighs. My shorts barely peeked out, hardly visible as they blended in with with the dress. “Ugh, it’s so cute. I can’t pass it up.”

“I don’t think Daryl will mind,” she teased. I rolled my eyes and huffed a sigh as I momentarily stopped away to retrieve my shirt from the bathroom floor.

“Oh shush.” I turned away, gathering my hair over one shoulder and looking back to talk to her. “Can you help me with the back?”

She nodded and placed Judith at her feet, untying the loose bow at the bottom of the corset, tugging gently at the ribbon to tighten it ever so slightly. The soft material cinched in around my ribs and at my waist, accentuating what subtle curves I did have.

“That’s perfect,” I said, “tie it off, please.” She obliged and tied the silk into a small bow, double-knotting it to ensure it stayed in place. I did one last final twirl before giving her a hug, excitement beginning to bubble in my chest. “Thank you, Michonne. You and Maggie are awesome for helping me get what I need.”

“It’s sweet that you’re doing this for him. I think he’ll love it.”

“And thank you for letting me give Judith her first Halloween experience.” I shoved my t-shirt under my dress and into the pocket of my shorts before squatting to scoop Judith up. I folded the hat, pinning it under my arm, and gave her a soft peck on the cheek, the fur of her costume tickling my skin. “Now c’mon my angel. Let’s go surprise your Uncle Daryl.”

My skin became flecked with goosebumps as the crips air nipped at my bare legs. The sun had almost completely set, bathing the community in what remained of its golden glow. Having grown up in the Midwest, I may have been biased towards an autumn sun. There was truly nothing like it. 

I bounced Judith in my arms as I walked down the path toward home, disregarding any stares I received from passerby’s doing a double take. She giggled and clapped as a chirping bird flapped past us, likely returning home to settle in with their family for the night. Just as I was about to do.

Once home, I was greeted with the comforting scent of a plethora of herbs and spices. My mom’s lasagna soup recipe, another component to my surprise, was in the slow cooker on the kitchen counter, nearly finished. I was anticipating the timer to go off at any minute. I kicked my boots off and brought Judith upstairs, resting her on the bed before digging my fishnets out of a drawer. Keeping an eye on her, I slipped my shorts off, tossing them in the laundry hamper basketball-style and scoring a slam dunk. I sat back on the bed, bunching my fishnets at my feet and sliding them on, careful to not let my nails snag the material. Standing and pulling my dress down, I placed the hat on, the final touch to my adorable outfit, and turned to Judith.

“What do you think?” I spun in a few circles for her, balancing myself with my arms as to not get too dizzy and topple over. She was grinning from ear-to-ear, giving me her best attempt at a round of applause as she unrhythmically clapped her hands together. “Ugh, thank you. You’re such a girl’s girl, Jude.”

Daryl would be home any minute, so I knew I had to act quickly. I gave myself a quick look-over in the mirror, fixing my hair and adjusting the hat to the most comfortable angle. With the cheesiest grin on my face, I gathered a few blankets from the corner of the room, throwing them over my shoulder. Scooping Judith back into my arms, I took her downstairs, setting her on the newspaper I’d spread out in the corner of the living room. The pumpkins sat atop it, the carving knives I’d found on a run resting on the kitchen island, alongside some spoons. I took the blankets and arranged them in a sort of manger-like bundle in the event Judith needed to sleep. I looked up at her through my bangs, the sigh that slipped out from between my lips blowing them out of the way for a moment before they came cascading back.

“I just hope he likes it,” I said to her.

As I finished setting up Jude’s pseudo-crib, the doorknob clicked, a gust of chilly autumn air rushing in as the door swung open, knocking softly against the wall. Speak of the devil, or in this case, angel, and he doth appear.

Daryl came striding in, grumbling something in an irritated tone under his breath. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but if I had to guess, it had to do with the other guys he was out with, as it usually was. The “clunk” of his crossbow hitting the ground echoed through the front of the house, drowning out the soft laughter of the babe on the floor next to me. She knew her Uncle Daryl’s voice anywhere, and she was elated.

“Wait here, sweetheart,” I whispered to Judith. An adorable grin spread across her face in response, as if she was giving me her approval. I skipped around the couch, doing a small twirl as I approached him.

“Hey you,” I greeted. He was knelt on the ground, untying his boot. He looked up through greasy strands of chocolate locks, and upon seeing me, his features softened, the scowl previously adorning his lips dissolving into a soft smile and the wrinkles from scrunching his face fading. He eyed me carefully, his longing gaze lingering on each and every hole in my fishnets as he brought himself to his feet.

“Hey yourself,” he practically cooed. His accent was thick, his tone as silky as the ribbon on my dress as he pulled me against him by my hips. Regardless of his mood, Daryl was always so handsy when he came home from a long day, needing to feel my soft skin against his and bask in the comfort I brought him.

“Ya cast a spell on me or somethin’? ‘Cause it worked.” My hands wandered to his chest, playing with the buttons of his shirt and feeling his heartbeat under my fingertips. It picked up for a moment, then slowed as he relaxed into our kiss and his body melted into mine.

He bounced the edge of my hat with his finger, an amused chuckle emerging from the deepest part of his chest. “Where’d ya pull this from?”

“Found it in a basement. What do you think?”

“Lookin’ cute.” The mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth sent blood rushing straight to my cheeks. “Real cute.” His hands found the hem of my dress, lifting the back slightly as they traveled underneath and rested on my butt, giving it a gentle squeeze, his fingers tangling in the holes of my fishnets.

“Daryl, please,” I laughed, patting his chest, “there is a child present.”

As if on cue, Judith toddled out from around the corner of the couch, steadying herself with her hands as she walked over and plopped herself onto Daryl’s boot. She wrapped herself around his leg, her tiny arms barely able to reach around his calf. He was beaming as he leaned down to scoop up the little one and kissed her cheek, eliciting a string of adorable giggles from her. I’d seen Daryl interact with Jude countless times, yet still, each and every time, I would be left with a smile that caused my cheeks to ache and fluttering in my chest.

“She likes me, but you’re clearly the favorite,” I laughed.

He was the first to feed her. Of course he was the favorite.

“Ya gonna make me dress up too?” he joked, his fingers fiddling with one of the ears on Judith’s costume.

“Only if you want to,” I teased, “I have something for you. C’mon.” He took my outstretched hand, interlocking my fingers with his as I guided him to the living room, stopping at the edge of the newspaper. The grin on my face could’ve lit up the entire community.

“’S’all this?” he asked, his eyes scanning over the sight in front of him.

“I thought I’d help you lose your pumpkin-carving virginity.” I briefly stepped away to retrieve the carving knives and spoons from the kitchen island, squatting to set them on the newspaper next to the pumpkins. I took his free hand in mine again, kissing the back of it and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know you probably didn’t get to do stuff like this growing up. I thought…I thought maybe I could give you the experience of something you missed out on." My thought was briefly interrupted by the obnoxious beeping of the slow cooker, signaling the food was done. “This is how my family used to do it. My mom would make a special lasagna soup—that’s what’s in the slow cooker—and my brothers and I would put our costumes on and carve pumpkins in the living room. We usually did it a few weeks before Halloween. I think I was like 2 or 3 when it started.”

“How come ya put the costumes on for it?” Daryl asked as he rocked Judith in his arms.

“According to my mom, Preston was dressing as a pirate that year, and he was just too excited to wear his costume and couldn’t wait until Halloween.” I chuckled as memories from years worth of Halloweens flipped through my mind.

“So my parents got the idea to have us all dress up to carve pumpkins. Scratch the itch Preston had been asking about for weeks. And it just…kind of became the tradition after that. The soup recipe has been in my family for decades. I recreated it as best I could with what we have.”

He began absentmindedly stroking my hand with his thumb as his eyes wandered from each pumpkin to the tools on the ground, then into the kitchen, landing on the slow cooker before coming back to the pumpkins. I could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears as he took everything in. A small smile tugged at his lips, threatening to crack his usual stoic demeanor. But there was something else there, something I couldn’t put my finger on, bubbling just under the surface. Whatever it was, he was fighting to hide it, blinking a few times and subtly shaking his head, like he was stuck in a trance and was trying to bring himself out of the clouds and back to reality.

“What do you think?” I asked, tilting my head to get a better look at him.

The small smile that was threatening to break through finally appeared, and a soft, breathy laugh escaped him. “It’s real nice.” He set Judith down at his feet before bringing his lips to mine, his hands finding my waist and pulling me against him, encapsulating me in his warmth. Despite the chill in the air, I was nice and cozy. “Ya didn’t hafta do all this.”

“I know I didn’t have to. But I wanted to.” His fingers fiddled with the silky ribbon on my back before traveling to my waist and pulling me against him once again. Jude grabbed onto my tights, giggling as her fingers played with the texture. “C’mon. I’m excited to help you pop your pumpkin-carving cherry.”

I scooped up Judith while Daryl grabbed the carving knives off the floor. I sat her in the bed I’d made for her, grabbing a stuffed bunny she’d left here prior and handing it to her. Once she was satisfied, I took a seat in front of one of the pumpkins, folding my legs to the side and pulling my dress down as much as I could.

“Sorry, I know they’re small. It’s all Maggie could sneak away for me,” I explained. Daryl crossed his legs as he took a seat next to me, scooting until he closed the space between us.

“Whadaya apologizin’ for? Did more than ya needed to,” he replied.

I took one of the carving knives from him and stabbed it into the top of my pumpkin, leaving an inch or so of space between the stem and what would be the perimeter of the opening. The nostalgia coursing through my veins was almost suffocating, but in a comforting way. “God, that felt good.”

“Careful now,” Daryl warned, reaching out to stroke my forearm. His touch was always so light, like being tickled by a feather. “Don’t want ya cuttin’ yaself.”

“My love, I’m a surgeon. I think I can carve a pumpkin just fine,” I assured.

I worked around the top of my pumpkin, the scent wafting out filling me with reminiscence. Daryl did the same with his as I removed the top and began to work at the inside of mine with a spoon.

“Whadaya usually do with ‘em after?” he wondered.

“Like after they sit out for a while?” I asked, and he nodded, “we can…well, we can cut them up and eat them. Let them rot, throw them out a second story window and smash them. Whatever we want. My brothers and I used to either let ours rot or throw them out one of our bedroom windows and smash them in the driveway, if that’s what you meant.”

“Could kill a walker with this thing,” he commented as he took the top off of his.

“Ooh, I’m gonna carve a bow on mine, that would be so cute!” I gushed, “what about you, Daryl? What are you gonna do with yours?”

“Pumpkin’s pretty tiny,” he smirked as he rotated it in his hands before eyeing me, “could carve it into a house for ya.”

I stood at an average 5 foot 7, and he only had three, maybe four inches on me. Still, from the day I arrived inside the walls, he relentlessly teased me about being “small,” often calling me “tiny” and “short stuff.” It never bothered me, as I knew it was all in good fun from the start. The way we teased each other was a love language all its own.

“Y’know what?” I reached into my pumpkin, scraping my hand along the side to scoop up a small handful of guts and seeds, swallowing hard to prevent myself from gagging. I may have been a surgeon, an emergency room surgeon at that, but while I was unfazed by human guts and gore, the texture of pumpkin guts made me queasy. “This is for that.”

I flicked the slime in his direction, some of the slick guts catching in his hair and the rest sliding into his lap. I stifled a chuckle as he took the goop from his hair and tossed it onto the newspaper. “Payback’s a bitch, huh?”

His face contorted into a devious smirk, a subtle glimmer in his eye further corroborating my suspicions of what was coming. Daryl flicked some pumpkin guts in my direction, but much to my dismay, they landed in my mouth. I gagged and spat them out on the newspaper, making a series of disgusted heaving sounds, hacking up more saliva in an effort to get the slime off my tongue.

“Shit, sorry,” he apologized as he reached over to brush some seeds off my dress.

“No, it’s alright,” I replied, wiping my mouth on my sleeve and stifling a chuckle. I grasped his collar and pulled him in for a kiss, slipping my tongue into his mouth and wriggling it around his before pulling away. “But if I have to taste it, so do you.”

We talked as we worked on our pumpkins, Jude occasionally offering her opinion with a series of coos and babbles. Daryl told me about his day, how well the hunt went, and about the same guy who was always nearly getting himself killed on every excursion. He’d almost become a meme at this point.

“Still don’t know his name, do you?” I remarked.

“Still don’t care to know,” he retorted.

I peered over the brim of my glasses at Jude, watching her cuddle with and smack the stuffed bunny around in her hands. I tapped on Daryl’s arm and twirled my index finger in circles while nodding toward Jude, indicating for him to spin his pumpkin in her direction. He cocked his eyebrow, but obliged, albeit confused. A smile crept across my lips as I rotated mine around to show her.

“What do you think, sweetheart? Whose do you like more?” I asked.

She looked up from her bunny, her eyes darting between us and scanning over the progress we’d made on our pumpkins so far. A small string of drool spilled out onto her chin as she gaped at us, as if she was mesmerized. Taking her toy, she tossed it in Daryl’s direction, the stuffed bunny landing only a foot away from her.

“’t’s ‘cause I’m the favorite,” he joked, hopping up from his spot to retrieve the bunny. He knelt to grab it, placing it back in her lap and using his thumb to clean the drool off her chin.

“Could you at least have pretended to like mine more?” I teased. She giggled as she waved the toy in rebuttal, grinning from ear-to-ear.

I decorated mine with a classic Jack ‘O Lantern face and a bow, and Daryl had, in fact, carved the rough outline of the shape of a house into his. Initially, I presumed he was joking, but he was committed to the bit, and I had to commend him for that. If men have nothing, it's the audacity.

Despite his initially semi-cheery disposition, something was off. He was becoming increasingly quiet, the tone of his voice changing as his mood continued to dampen. At first, I thought maybe he was just tired. After all, he had been out hunting all day. But I was well acquainted with tired Daryl, and that wasn't who was sitting next to me.

As the night went on, Jude’s yawning became more frequent, and eventually, her eyes fluttered closed, despite her little mind’s protests to keep them open. Scooping her up in my arms, I nestled her into the bundle of blankets on the floor, gently lifting her arm and placing her stuffed bunny at her side. I admire her for a moment, watching her chest rise and fall and her tiny fingers grip around the arm of her bunny.

“Seems like her first Halloween really wore her out,” I commented as I rose to head upstairs to the bathroom.

After returning, I went to stir the food, but something stopped me in my tracks. The energy in the air had shifted. It was heavy, thick with heartache, and it filled my chest with an anguish I’d never felt before. Rounding the corner of the living room, my eyes landed on Daryl, head hanging low and slowly tapping the pumpkin in his lap.

“Daryl…are you ok?”

He was somber, the expression on his face dropping into one of sadness. I stepped over to him slowly, carefully, tip-toeing around him as to not stomp too hard and wake Jude. Kneeling on the floor across from him, I tilted my head to get a better look through his fallen strands of hair. He kept his gaze fixated on the floor, not daring to make eye contact with me. His lack of a response was becoming concerning.

“My love, can you talk to me?” I asked. I bit at my bottom lip in a pathetic attempt to soothe my rapidly-building anxiety, preparing for the gut-punch answer that could come after my next question. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Ain’t ya. ’S me,” he replied, continuing to softly tap on the sides of his pumpkin, “never had nothin’ like this ‘fore.”

“I know, that’s why I—“

“Ain’t jus’ this,” he interjected, cutting me off mid-sentence and placing his pumpkin next to him. He hung his head in contempt, the shame weighing heavy in his voice. “Feel like ya might jus’ wake up one day ‘n…”

“Wake up one day and….what?” My skin was growing hot, tingling, the anxiety bubbling just below the surface making the hair at the nape of my neck stand on end.

“Think someone else’s better.”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. I should’ve seen this coming.

We’d had some newcomers arrive in the last few weeks, a couple of young guys, probably around my age. Eric had recruited them on an outing, and they were both skilled farmers, so they were tasked with tending to the garden and caring for the horses and chickens we’d acquired. I hadn’t gotten to know them all too well, but they were friendly, always offering a “hello” and a smile when we passed each other. We’d had small talk now and then, but nothing more. However, the insecurity that’d been radiating off of Daryl was palpable.

He was the jealous type, but not in a controlling kind of way. Maybe a little possessive, but in a “what’s mine is mine” type way. It wasn’t toxic, he never tried to tell me who I could and couldn’t talk to or be friends with, but it was obvious that some members of the community brought his insecurities to the surface. He’d never said it, nor did I think he ever would, but despite being at Alexandria for far longer than me, he still felt out of place, never feeling like he truly belonged there. And the presence of newcomers--young, smart, conventionally attractive newcomers--in his eyes, outcasted him further.

“Have I ever done anything to make you feel that way?”

He shook his head. “Nah, nothin’ ya did. Been thinkin’ how ya deserve better. That I ain’t good ’nough for ya.”

My heart was on the verge of breaking into a million pieces. How could the most perfect man I’d ever met, the walking green flag with a heart of gold, not think he was good enough for me? He’d been a saint the entirety of our relationship, even before we were official, and he was the kindest, most gentle man I could’ve asked for. He was my sweet archer. My protector. My angel. My Daryl.

“My peach, do you remember when I told you about my first impressions of you? From the day I arrived here?”

“Think so.” Of course he did. He clung to every word I said.

“When I woke up in that dingy, damp, musty cell, your voice was the first thing I heard, letting the others know I was awake. Your sweet, gravely voice...with that gorgeous accent…I still remember the tickling in my ears from hearing it for the first time.” I held my hands up, pretending to hold an invisible crossbow in them and aimed it at Daryl, pressing between his eyebrows with the knuckle of my index finger. “The whole time, you had your crossbow aimed right at my noggin, and I thought you were the most beautiful man I’d ever laid my eyes on. Still do”

“Ain’t beautiful ‘nough to be with someone like yaself,” he muttered, dropping his gaze to the floor. The sadness lingering in his voice was excruciating.

My heart shattering sent pain radiating through my chest, the tears quickly pooling in my eyes threatening to overflow. I averted my gaze from him for just a moment to blink them away, taking a breath to prevent my voice from shaking. “Did someone say that to you?” I brushed hair out of his eyes and tucked it behind his ear, caressing his jaw as I did. “Cause if they did, they’re gonna have to square the fuck up.”

“Nobody said nothin’,” he assured. While I was relieved to hear no one was being nasty toward him, it broke me to know he was coming to these conclusions on his own accord.

An empathetic sigh flowed from my lips. Dragging my index finger to his chin and tilting his head up, I kissed his forehead. He still kept his eyes on the floor. “Daryl? Can you look at me?”

He hesitantly brought his baby blues to mine, afraid to look me in the eye after he previous statement, as if he thought he would face repercussions for it. “You’re the only man I’ve had eyes for from the moment I set foot inside these walls.” I bit at the inside of my bottom lip, debating whether or not to bring up the elephant that'd been occupying the room the last few weeks.

“I know you’ve been feeling...some type of way since those new guys got here,” I confessed. He sighed as his gaze fell to the floor again, hair falling into his eyes, which I quickly caught and tucked behind his ear, caressing it as I did. “Who cares about those guys? Fuck them. Fuck anyone else. They don’t have your heart, Daryl. No one does."

"You constantly tell me I do too much for you. I don’t feel like I do enough. You deserve this and so much more.” I stifled a chuckle. “This is just all I could conjure up given…y’know, the apocalypse and all that.”

He fiddled with the fabric of my sleeve, rubbing the crushed velvet between his fingers, a habit he’d developed as a comfort for when he was overwhelmed or anxious. I blinked furiously as tears attempted to break free from the corners of my eyes. Taking his face in my hands, I tilted his head back up, mustering up the softest, most empathetic expression I was capable of.

“I love you beyond comprehension.” I delicately stroked his cheekbones with my thumbs, planting a kiss on the tip of his nose. “You deserve everything good. You deserve people around you who love you for exactly who you are. You deserve silly little holiday traditions and a warm place to come home to. You deserve a life full of love, peace, and happiness.”

Taking my hat off and tossing it on the floor, I pressed on Daryl’s leg, coaxing him to spread them apart to allow me to settle in between. Draping my arms around his neck, I threaded my fingers into his hair, twirling locks between them. “You deserve someone who will stick with you through the good times and the bad, someone who will sit with you on your hardest days and help you heal from the horrors you’ve had to endure.”

Pressing my forehead to his, I kissed the tip of his nose again and stared deep into those gorgeous cerulean pools. Those eyes…god, those fucking eyes. Even after all this time, they gave me the same butterflies in my stomach and weakness in my knees as they did the very first time we ever locked eyes. “You deserve me, Daryl. I’ve never been more sure of anything before.”

His eyes fell to the floor, and his shoulders noticeably relaxed, his nostrils flaring as he breathed a sigh of relief. Snaking his arms around my waist, he pulled me as close to him as was physically possible, resting his head on my shoulder and settling his face in the crook of my neck. His warm breath tickled my skin. His voice came out soft, shaky, barely above a whisper, his Adam’s apple vibrating against my collarbone. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my little Georgia peach.”

We sat like that for some time, the only sound permeating the stillness being the occasional soft snore from Jude. Every now and then, I’d kiss the top of his head, tenderly massaging his scalp with my fingers and reminding him that everything was ok. He melted into me, every muscle in his body slowly turning to jelly with each passing second. Despite that, he was holding me tight, as if he was afraid I would slip away if he loosened his grip, his arms snaking further around me with any small adjustment I made.

A soft, tender kiss met my shoulder, his lips lingering before placing another one, his thick accent muffled against my neck breaking the silence. “Dunno what I did to deserve ya.”

Tapping on his the back of his neck, he brought himself up from my shoulder, bringing his forehead back to mine. Weaving my fingers out of his hair, my hands traveled to and interlocked on the back of his neck, my thumbs tenderly massaging the sensitive area behind his ears. “Being you. That’s what you did.”

I saw a glimmer in his eye as a single tear caught the moonlight streaming in through the window. “It’s ok to cry, my peach,” I assured.

“Ain’t gon’ cry,” he retorted, his gaze falling back to the floor as he blinked rapidly. The sounds that dripped off my lips was somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. That was the stubborn man I knew and loved.

“Well if you need to, just know it’s ok. And I’m here,” I reassured, “listen, I know marriage isn’t a thing now. Not in the sense it used to be anyway, but…” I bit my lip as a goofy grin spread across my face, stretching from ear-to-ear, lashes fluttering as he made eye contact with me once again. “As long as I’m alive, I’m sticking around.”

“Ya sayin’ ya wanna spend forever…w’me?” Dare I say there was a hint of excitement in his voice. I gave him a crooked half-smile and a nod.

“Mhm,” I hummed. The corners of his mouth upturned into his quintessential small smile. The softest shade of baby pink graced his cheeks, and there was a glint in his eyes, a sparkle I’d never seen before. He was beaming. As much as Daryl was capable of, anyway. “I’ve know that for a long time now. There are very few things you could do to actually get rid of me. I’m not going anywhere”

His eyes fell to my lips for a brief moment before he kissed me, tenderly, the same as he always did. The butterflies in my stomach awakened, and blood rushed to my cheeks as his fingers weaved into the holes of my fishnets, pressing lightly into the flesh of my thighs. “Good.”

“This is probably gonna sound hella cheesy, but…I see home when I look at you,” I explained. His smile slipped out again as our eyes locked.

“Ya sayin’ like that ya ain’t been sayin’ cheesy shit already,” he teased. One of his hands wandered up to rest on my hip, the other taking mine as I playfully shoved his chest.

“Oh shush. It might be cheesy, but I meant every word,” I reiterated, the silly, giddy grin I’d been trying to restrain breaking through my pitiful poker face, “you’re home to me, Daryl. Doesn’t matter where we are. Just as long as I’m with you.”

He bit his bottom lip, his voice timid as he echoed my sentiment. “You too.”

I reached out for my hat and plunked it on his head, giggling softly as I tilted it at a slight angle. He scoffed, but the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t going to be taking it off. Not with how happy it made me to see him wearing it. “Think maybe…” his voice trailed off for a moment before he found it again, “maybe we can do this again? Or a different one?”

“Mhm. We can tackle them all,” I reassured, giving his hand a tender squeeze, “one tradition at a time.”

I peered over his shoulder into the kitchen, my eyes falling to the slow cooker. “I don’t mean to detract from the sap, but you’ve been out all day. I’m sure you’re hungry.” I stared to get up, but he gently tugged on my hand to keep me in place.

“Stay sat, I got it,” he said. He leaned in and placed a kiss on my forehead before rising to his feet. “Ya made it, least I could do is get ya some.”

“I’ve never made it before,” I called out as he wandered to the kitchen, “it’s not the exact recipe, but I did the best I could with what we have access to.”

“‘M sure it’s good,” Daryl asserted, removing the lid from the slow cooker and grabbing bowls out of one of the cabinets, “98% success rate, ‘member?”

I watched intently as he took the ladle and stirred the soup, my eyes fixating on each move he made. Every ounce of love I had for him swelled in my chest, and I was sure my ribs would start cracking. The butterflies in my stomach were working overtime, and as he filled those little ceramic bowls to the brim, I made a promise. Not just to myself, but to him--I was going to spend the rest of my life making sure this perfect human being never thought, for even a second, that he wasn't good enough for me, again.

A half-smile spread across my face, which slowly turned into a full one as he strode back over, handing me one of the bowls and taking a seat next to me, maneuvering to close the space between us. “Do me a favor, sunshine,” he said, nodding to gesture to my dress as that faint pink appeared on his cheeks again, “next time I…take care of ya…promise you’ll wear that.”

I covered my mouth as I took a bite, chuckling at his gentlemanly euphemism. “If you insist.”

Taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie

Divider found on Google via searching for stock images.

[thesharktanksdriver]

Being Ghost's younger sibling (platonic)

Depending on the day I let Roach live in cannon or die since he isn’t in the 2022 game

Warning: there is mention of abuse because of simon’s backstory

Simon had a complicated relationship with his family, his blood family to be exact

He hated his father for being an abusive piece of shit, a monster instead of a man

His poor mother who took the brunt force of the abuse to try and lighten the blows for him and his brother

His brother who he had a complicated relationship with until it was mended with time

Once upon a time when Simon was younger, he had wished that they’d drop dead. Not just his father but the rest of them

It was a moment of weakness, one he had regretted even thinking of. For his father no, but for his mom and brother yes

He supposed that a fucked up wishing star granted it anyways

That day feels so vivid to him like a blur, just seeing flashes of something in his mind

What he remembers most is the red

Red that stained the corpses of his mom, Tommy, Beth and little Jospeh

When he remembers it it’s like seeing a black and white photo with only the red being in colour

That ugly colour staining them as he felt himself break

His family home, a place once filled with violence is once again stained with it

After that it’s blank, utterly blank as he assumed police and military showed up

What he remembers next is holding you while crying

A small baby swaddled in a cloth with your name etched into it

He had vaguely tempered his mom mentioning a surprise for him to see when he had the moment

You were it, the surprise his mother had been so excited to tell him of

Apparently his dad had shown up a few months back, and shoved you into her arms

His mother, being the kind woman she was took you in despite you not being her child

Tommy and Beth had been helping her raise you, Jospeh had even been excited to be a big brother (not understanding you’d be an aunt/uncle)

You were being kept a secret, they had been waiting for him to come home and meet you

It’s what had saved you that day, along with the fact his mom had put you to sleep for a small nap

It’s there in his shaking and sobbing arms that Simon meets you, his little half-sibling

Despite the fact he wants to be angry at your existence, at how your the bastard child of his dad he can’t

Your just an innocent child, you couldn’t choose your parents just like he couldn’t

And now your left with no one but him

And he’s left with only you as his remaining family

He takes you in

A broken man with no experience in this type of stuff, doing what he thinks is right cause he knows the childcare system is shit

For the first couple months and early years of your life Simon goes through a lot of trial and error

He feels afraid to ask others for help due to his paranoia of history repeating itself again

But eventually Simon is able to figure out what to do

He goes about raising you with care, something he’d only gotten from his mom. All the while fearing that he one day would become his father

He knows he never would, but it’s still a thought that plagues his mind as he puts you to bed

His once barren home is now filled with colour, a safe house with the bare necessities now decorated with memories like the sharpie ink on the doorway to show how much you’ve grown

He was never one for sappy shit but for stuff like that he goes soft, almost feeling as if parts of himself are being mended through you

Not healed per say, he doesn’t believe that anything could ever really help him process his trauma…but seeing you have a happy childhood helps him

During these first few years when he has to leave for missions he trusts you with his now retired friend Roach

Gary quickly becomes “uncle” Gary/Roach as he looks after you when he’s on duty

Ghost gets small texts from a burner phone every couple of days with a single word that has hidden meaning

A simple “good” would probably be fine but at this point Ghost is still extremely paranoid

When he gets back Gary tells him to lighten up a bit and he reluctantly does so

Ghost always feels relived after so much fighting and returning home to see you happy and running up to him (barely missing tripping over your own feet)

What surprises him though is when you call him dad after one of his returns

Even Roach doesn’t really expect it

Simon feels himself crumble at that, tears pooling in his eyes as he kneels down to hug you

He kinda just silently cries, his tears soaking up into his mask and smudging the inky black makeup around his eyes

He never forgets that moment, it’s just forever ingrained in his mind especially since he realized that you said that to him while he wore his mask

Your young child mind wasn’t afraid of him in his infamous skull mask like he had been when his brother used to terrorize him

No, you still recognized him as Simon, the man whom you thought to be your father

And that sticks with him

When you get to the age when you begin to develop interests and a more prominent personality he finds himself content

Your at an age where he can do more than just play and watch cartoons beside you

Simon 100% funds and encourages your interests whether that be drawing, sports or anything else that you find fun

Even if it’s not his thing he joins in with you or overlooks the activity, giving you encouragement and praise

He’d particularly be really engaged if you liked something more on the creative side

Since he can then hang it up on his walls in frames and it’s safe

He’d also feel really conceited since he has a small hobby of carving small wooden figurines

Which in this scenario he’d definitely show you how to make them

When you make your first one he’d definitely carry it with him on duty

A subtle reminder of you waiting home for him and that no matter the situation he has to get home

It’s also at this point in your life that he takes you places

If you mention you want to go to Disney, we’ll guess what he’s bought tickets and you guys are now taking an entire month off in California (not Florida though, he doesn’t trust that place)

He wants to make as many meaningful experiences he can for you due to the fact he’s gone so long

School is handled via online learning and private tutors due to the fact he lives far out in the country in a heavily secluded area where the rides to school would take at least a 2 hour bus drive and then some

He could move but he prefers the house to be a place that is hard to find

Due to this you don’t have many friends except for the careful few that Simon let’s know if your existence

Like Price, Laswell and of course uncle Roach

He trusts them enough to leave you with them during employment

But he especially leaves you with Kate and her wife since he thinks you need some women figures in your life

Not knowing that just having him is enough to you

He gets a small tattoo of something that he associates with you. Something like a nickname he gave you like bumblebee or blueberry

Yes his nickname’s are kinda random but their meaningful to him and have stories attached

He’d especially like if you have a nickname for him as well something like “boo” or “ghosty” since they associate with his call sign

When you transition into teenage hood that he gets assigned to 141

He realizes at this point that maybe he’s done a good job raising you until his self doubt begins to eat at him again

It happens to him in cycles as you grew up but now it hits harder when knowing you wouldn’t have a normal teenage experience because of him

You wouldn’t have a prom or parties due to his decision to live in the middle of butt fuck nowhere in the British countryside

But at the same time you’d be screwed if he sent you to school due to the fact you’d only done it online and have private teachers help you

And his mind begins a spiral which he doesn’t get your opinion on

It’s also at that point that Simon feels it’s time for you to know the truth

From this point he’d taught you about his mom, Tommy, Beth and Jospeh

But never the fact that he was your brother and not your dad

He expects you to be mad, and scream at him

A small part of him wants that to happen because he believes he deserves it

But that doesn’t happen since for a long while you knew, for months you knew

And maybe even before then

He asks why you never brought it up, why you still referred to him as dad despite knowing he wasn’t

And what you say makes him cry like the day when you initially called him dad

“Si, you may be my big brother but you’ve raised me as your own. There’s never been anyone else who’s been a father to me except you, and you’ve done a good job at it”

And like that day he found you he crumbles

And you let him cry as he hugs you, scared that if he let go for even a moment you’d disappear like sand through his fingers

Simon though he has his flaws and seems like a blank slate is someone who is made of compassion

He loves despite the fact he is afraid to be hurt once more

And when he loves someone he covets them more than his own life

Most do not know this but your the prime example of this

Because if it came down to it Simon would do anything to save you

Simon is a good brother and a great father despite what his own mind says to him

[sakuname]

platonic! tanjiro x older sister figure! reader

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+

“ hold still, tanj’! ”

the fifteen year old grimaced upon the tug to his sensitive head. he had gotten severely injured on a mission once more and was bed ridden for weeks. due to this, he was covered in grind that hadn't been removed from his hair nor body. since you had taken on the roll of being both his and nezuko’s somewhat guardian, it was your decision to bathe him once he had awaken.

of course, no personal parts were exposed to you; nor were yours to him. you let him dip into the hot spring on his own accords when the time rolled around, even though it was a bit difficult on his end, before following in after him with the second skin of a swimming tunic. tanjiro was quite nervous since he saw the scene to be a little inappropriate, but you assured him there was nothing to worry about. you were no weirdo and on the accord, he was in no shape to wash himself.

you decided to start with his hair, which is what was happening at the very moment. your hands were rough, to say the least. digging into his soft tresses to wash away the built up grime and sweat was your best option - was what you had thought to yourself. that is why your knuckles made work at doughing into his scalp; roughly massaging, as well as rubbing away at his hair.

“ ‘m sorry for using such brutal force. ” you huffed, blowing steam to the side. “ but you're dirty, ya’ know. you were stinking up the hospital room, I have to clean you, kid. ”

‘ did she have to put it like that? ’ he sweat dropped at your blunt wording. although, tanjiro knew he was in need of a cleansing, so he didn't peep a complaint.

you were finished within ten minutes of non stop scrubbing and combing through his hair with your fingers. once finished, you smiled down at the smaller male, eyes beaming.

“ okay, close your eyes! ” you were rather cheerful about the whole ordeal because you enjoyed taking care of others. tanjiro was your little brother, too — he reminded you of your biological younger siblings, who have long passed... it was part of the reason this moment was seen as a great bonding experience. and, perhaps, something for healing your inner wounds.

maybe his, as well..

“ okay, y/n-san.. ” the burgundy haired male mumbled, letting his eyes fall shut, lips forming a loose o shape in relaxation. with a hum, you cupped the back of his neck and guided him backwards, just until the crown of his head peeked into the water. that's when you scooped up some water into your conjoined palms, and started pouring it over his head little by little.

tanjiro sighed, blissfully. a content smile taking over his face. “ this feels quite nice. ”

“ I'm glad you're enjoying it.. ” your voice was quiet as you said this. you were usually talkative... so tanjiro grew slightly concerned. he nearly opened an eye to spare you a glance, before immediately remembering that soap could get into it if he did so.

“ is something on your mind, nee-san? ” the male casually asked, using the horrific family-bound noun as if it were nothing. he's used it before with you, though only one time.

It made you stop your movements, actually, but only because warmth filled your chest and caught you by surprise. with a soft smile, you resumed pouring the last of water over his hair, before combing your fingers through it to rid the strands of any knots and extra suds. “ I'm fine, tanj’. I... have some things on my mind, but I'll be okay. ”

he was quiet for a moment. by the slight twitch of his nose, you could only guess he was smelling the air to see if what you said had been true. It indeed was.. well- maybe the slightest of lies was in there, but the boy didn't seem to question it.

“ I see.. ” he finally spoke, voice gentle. “ I hope you know I am always here for you. ” tanjiro opened his eyes finally, meeting yours which were peering down at him curiously. his prune colored orbs glistened with truthfulness as he continued to speak. “ you're my family, nee-san. we must always stick together through thick and thin. ” a smile graced his lips. “ remember, no matter what heaviness weighs on your mind, I'm always here to take it away. ”

the male winced, as he lifted an injured hand out of the water. his sprained, bruise tinted pinky stretched out to you. “ I promise to always stick by you, y/n. ”

you nearly cried from how sweet tanjiro was... but you knew better. he'd worry that he had said something wrong, because that's just how silly tanjiro was. so you chose to hold in your tears, and settle with a small sniffle, before hooking your pinky to his.

“ I too, promise to always stick by you, little brother. ”

++

I tried my best at this blurb 💔.

[pain-is-too-tired]

G/t pjo thoughts so bad on brain-

So anyway more about Borrower au.

Kronos and Minos work together. Both being in charge of the complex.

Kronos managed to convince Luke that it was "totally safe" for him and the other borrowers to live there after he was caught by Kronos. And Luke falls for it.

Both Kronos and Minos kidnap borrowers, Minos doing experiments and Kronos just seeing them no more then entertainment.

Chris is one of the first of Luke's group to get captured, left at the hands of Minos. The experiments leave him a shaken mess.

Nico is also captured at one point, but not for as long. Minos oddly enough doesn't do as much harsh experiments on him as he does with Chris. And he manages to escape a lot sooner.

Tensions rise with the others when people start going missing, and they become a lot more cautious when going outside their base.

The complex has multiple families of course, most involving college kids given how close it is to the campus.

Lee,Michael, Will and Kayla live in one apartment, with Austin visiting often but living with his mom nearby.

Lee's a music teacher who is heavily involved with programs helping kids in rough situations.

Michael's a freshman in college, going into Nursing.

Will is a Sophmore in highschool and Kayla and Austin in 8th grade

Luke gets caught by Lee one day why trying to take some cloth scraps left from one of Lee's projects for the programs he's involved in. He panics when Lee returns to his room after a shower and falls immediately into the pile of cloth scraps and gets tangled up instead.

Lee managed to get him untangled and is unfazed by Luke's whole tough guy act when he picks him up.

Jake gets caught by Michael one night when trying to get some food for his siblings why Charles is sick. Michael walks into the kitchen to get more water as he's pulling an all nighter why studying and just stops and stares when he sees Jake in the counter. Before just going, "fuck it, I'm too tired for this" and walking past Jake to get the water before heading back to his room without a word.

Meanwhile, Jake feels like he just saw his life flashed before his eyes.

Next time they run into eachother, Jake ended up getting badly hurt why scavenging around in the complex's main lobby(fell off something or got stepped on or whatever). Michael finds him and ends up healing him. When Jake wakes up he's frantic but Michael manages to calm him down.

Leo getting caught by Jason and Piper why taking bits and pieces of stuff to work with for his projects and Jason is immediately attached to the little guy. Leo has no idea what to do, he was going in expecting the human to hurt him if he was caught, but Jason's just absolutely amazed meeting Leo. And also very touchy. Piper teases the two of them and helps Leo find certain stuff when he needs it. Both their dads are rich, though they're not crazy about being given money by them they don't mind giving stuff to Leo as they have safety net to get more.

Jason lives with his cousin Percy, Piper lives with her sister Drew. Their older sister,Silena, lives across the hall with her girlfriend.

Charles had gotten caught by Silena and Clarisse why he was searching for Chris after he first went missing.

Clarisse had found Chris first after he just hardly somehow escaped Minos. He was hardly responsive. When they realized how bad he was and they were in over their head they went to Michael for help as a last resort to heal him.

Charles was nervous but relieved when he saw how careful Michael was with tending to Chris.

Michael of course was absolutely furious when he quickly figured out lot of Chris' injuries were inflicted by man. But he tried not get to worked up around Chris in fear of freaking him out.

[destiny-in-the-universe]

Whump Whumping Whump

Updates on Whumptober, meows!

Alllriiight, my dear readers, I'm very much on a roll when it comes to Whumptober. For anyone stumbling across my page for the first time, Whumptober is an event hosted during October where you write "whump", or rather the psychological, physical, and other forms of torment against a "whumpee" (person receiving the angst).

I had the thought of doing a combination of prompts into a single one-shot, just to get a feel of something a little different! I wanted to talk a little about the chosen fandom and some information about the au itself because why not? For fandom, I decided to go with the current fixation, in other words a K-Drama known as Vincenzo.

This one's going to be particularly whumpy, especially due to the nature of the content with my idea but before that - this idea follows a canon divergent setting! It does fit under au, though honestly I named the fic after a song! Due to my rewatch of the series, I realized how dear these characters are to me so I created my own canon because, well, one of my favorites did die and I am upset lol.

Read below for information about the au and the fic itself!

Changes to the Canon

Jang Hanseo deserved so much better. After suffering from Hanseok's abuse, I felt his demise was too brutal for my tastes and decided he would get the chance to live here!

Vincenzo still did leave Korea after the end of the series, but then came back - deciding he couldn't abandon his new family. Geumga Plaza is an unofficial family and are highly protective of each other

Vincenzo and Hong Chayoung got together post-canon; though it took a while, considering just how stubborn both of them are. They're only dating, and neither has brought up marriage

The au itself does take place in Italy though! I had thought of Vincenzo taking Chayoung and Hanseo to visit where he had grown up, and so I decided to have them take a vacation

Hanseo took over the business, now running it legally. Though he also decided to volunteer at an animal shelter during the weekend

Vincenzo is a legal consultant, apart from still being part of the Jipuragi Law Firm

Hanseo suffers from PTSD and an unspecified anxiety disorder. While he has recovered immensely from the abusive dynamic with Hanseok, he does have vicious nightmares

He considers Vincenzo to be his true brother and rarely talks about Hanseok

Chayoung is highly protective of Hanseo, making sure no one comes after him. Though, this has hardly been an issue

Hanseo also has Autism Spectrum Disorder. I'm not going to lie; a lot of his depictions of having ASD in fanfiction doesn't always make me comfortable. I'm using my own experience with autism for how his represents

Vincenzo also has PTSD, but he doesn't talk about it. Ever

Fanfiction Details

As mentioned before, Vincenzo - alongside Chayoung and Hanseo - take a vacation to Italy, but of course things end up going a little south

For reasons I won't be disclosing yet, a hit is placed on Vincenzo. He discovers what's happening, and finds himself slowly distancing from Hanseo and Chayoung in order to keep them safe

Chayoung immediately notices something's up, attempting to confront Vincenzo but he gets defensive and it leads to a situation. That's all I can really say

Hanseo is not confrontational, but he does worry over his hyung and decides to help Chayoung figure out what's bothering Vincenzo

A fight does break out, but I will not be saying anything beyond that yet! That's spoilers, I'm afraid

More will come in a little while if anyone wants a WIP and would like to see me keep yapping about this idea. I haven't written for Vincenzo in ages, and last time, it had gotten a little... spicy to say the least but I adore Vincenzo's relationship with Chayoung and, well, Hanseo should've had a chance to heal from Hanseok's torment. In the meantime, I bid you adieu!

[shinigamimailjeevas]

18k in to "we're not dead, we're fighting" and about to hit a section of notes that might stall progress... so here is a random scene. Excuse any issues, this is practically hot off the press.

.

“I agreed with your request, not that Theo was or is dangerous anymore. We were together for years before you ever found out and never once was I injured or manipulated. He changed— he changed and I threw our relationship back in his face like it meant nothing when it meant everything to me. Theo is a good man and I wish you could see that.”

“A good man that killed you while pretending to be your friend. Please, be reasonable. All I want is assurances that you can be safe with whomever your are with. Why can you not see this?”

“I do see that. I also see that you are still dating Chris. A good man that helped killed a lot of good werewolves in his time. A good man that once tried to kill me.” Melissa rears back as though he’d slapped her, as if he would have ever dared to. 

“That is not the same.”                   

“Isn’t it?” Scott fights to keep his eyes from flaring, from adding fuel to an already volatile conversation. “Chris is not the same who threatened to kill me multiple times, whose family nearly succeeded. He learned from those mistakes. So did Theo. I forgave them both a long time ago. Clearly you have forgiven Chris, so why not Theo?” Melissa is not the only one getting frustrated. He has asked her before and gotten hand wavey, cookie cutter responses. He has never expected them to be more than the frigid side of cordial, but wanted his mother to at least tolerate his choice in partner. To look, and see that Theo has made strides in life to do better, to be a better person.

“Because he killed you! I dropped to my knees beside the corpse of my son. Do you have an idea what that was like? If you did then then would never ask me why I cannot forgive that monstrous boy.”

The former-alpha lets her get every heated word off her chest, every barb and poisonous word that has been kept bottled over the years, until she nearly resembles Starry from before she learned control, fists clutched by her hips, breaths panted and eyes a little wild. 

“What do you think it was like for me?” Scott poses the question, voice barely over a whisper. “Theo’s claws were in my stomach. I looked him in the eyes as he did that.” While the memory is not a nice one, still vivid and sharp some days, Scott can separate the boy in the memories from the man he became. “Those same hands that took my life curled around me as we slept. He was vulnerable for me. I could have killed him if I wanted to. With his inferior healing any severe enough alpha wound would have done it. He curled beside me and slept.” Almost desperately he tries to make her understand just how valuable that action was back then. That he is allowed once more to experience it is nothing short of a miracle. He thinks of his mother and Chris, how slowly their relationship progresses and how, finally, there had been talk of permanence. His mother has never been so happy. “Theo is my choice. Liam is my choice. For me they are my Chris. Do you understand yet?”

[lamarkeu]

seventeen as your

right person wrong moment… (95 line)

{Now Playing ~ Oceans & Engines by NIKI}

|| seungcheol || Racer!Seungcheol x Best Friend’s sister!Y/N

He loved every hidden moment the two of you could spend together away from the prying eyes of your family and friends. Late night rides, early morning walks with his dog, there was just a sense of inner peace when you were tangled up in each other’s limbs that he could never find when racing. It took you by surprise that he’d give up as easy as he did. Your brother Jeonghan who had found you two sharing a moment of serenity in your back yard pushed him off of you. The words that were exchanged blurred, all he knew was that he had to stay away from you. At the end of the day he’d always been too blinded by his competitive instincts to think about how his choices would affect the ones he loves. You don’t know what hurt more to hear, the call from Jeonghan that he had gotten into an accident or the “I never loved you” he muttered when he had you escorted out of his hospital room. He cried staring up at the hospital ceiling realizing that was never going to find someone who could fill the void in his life like you did.

|| jeonghan || Mafia!Jeonghan x Doctor!Y/N

To put it bluntly Jeonghan was a bad man. Next to the ruler of hell would appear a saint. Even after all the times he arrive home late with his black gloves bloody and hair in disarray you’d always help heal his physical and emotional wounds. You were too good for him, he’d remind himself that every single night when you fell asleep before he did. It was only a matter of time your blissful bubble was ruined by his life in the underworld. 24 hours, that’s the time it took for him to have received footage of you on a unmarked USB from an unknown source and to completely remove traces of him in your life. He help but catch himself smiling bitterly watching you cross the street waving towards a man in the crowd. The glimmer of thin band on your finger doesn’t go unnoticed before he catches the man greeting with a quick peck. He swears he feels himself slipping back into the depths of his memories when he had plans to marry you.

|| joshua || Idol Trainee!Joshua x Best Friend!Y/N

Though the two of you never talked about it when you were still in LA but you guys were fully aware that your relationship tested the boundaries of friendship. These romantic feelings seemed to only deepen when the two of you decided to become trainees at Pledis. When things got tough you were the only two who could really confide in one another. Things took a turn when Joshua found that him and the group of boys he was with were about to debut. Around the same time you had made the hard decision to quit your training and go back home. It wasn’t an easy conversation but the two of you so eventually decided to spend the last few days and see what life would be like if you guys dated. In a sense the rushed atmosphere allowed you to experience a love you never knew existed, but the reality of distance seemed to continually plague your mind of wanting to try again. If you had known that your first kiss with him would also be the last time you’d be able to interact with him than maybe you would’ve held on to him little longer.

[riderofblackdragons]

Day 4: Vivisection

Ok so first off, sorry this is late! The next few days are also probably going to be late bc of internet issues, so yay **jazz hands**

Anyways, I had to look up what vivisection even is lol, so that was also fun. It's cutting people (or animals) up specifically for experimentation btw

Anyways, I'm really glad that people seem to be enjoying so far, and I hope you enjoy this one too! It does get a bit gruesome tho, so be wary of that

There was something about it that was just a little bit pathetic. Kol watched the scalpel trace down the man’s chest, he didn’t even know his name, cutting in and letting the blood seep out. It stopped just below his breasts, letting the pain come onto him before they continued.

He wasn’t doing it alone, of course. Elijah was here, a steady presence against Kol’s back, his hand holding the scalpel with Kol’s. In another room, Enzo and Damon were dealing with some other men, members of the Augustine Society. Occasionally, scream and cries would ring out, making the man with Kol and Elijah tense up.

And, well. It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve this. He’d helped with the experiments, after all, although it had been a few years since he’d participated in anything other than the New Year’s parties. He’d held this scalpel once, or something like it, drawing it down Kol’s own chest, stopping in the same place he had now.

Elijah was holding onto it for pressure, and to make sure the knife didn’t shift around too much. He was letting his brother control where they placed it, and when they stopped, as the one who’d been the actual victim.

Eventually, the blood might stop. It could be that this man’s body would run out of blood, it all coming out from this one cut, or it could clot, and try to heal in that way. Or, it could close in the method of a different experiment he’d run on Kol in the years past - true, as a non-vampire he was impervious to the sun, but.

Well, the lighter Elijah had gotten, at Kol’s quiet request, would help him feel the same agony either way.

“Just like our siblings,” Elijah told him, holding the man down and burning his skin off. “So quick to resort to arson, little brother”

Kol didn’t reply. Most of their communication was mental, anyways, with Elijah’s gift of their mental abilities. Slipping into the surface of Kol’s mind was easy in comparison.

As this man, and his accomplices in the next room over, had found out. They’d been tormented for weeks by their own minds, long before Elijah and his companions had made it around to them. There was nightmares, which would then increase their paranoia, and then they would try to run, and find that they were trapped. And then, they would wake up, and find themselves unable to run anyways, too sleep-deprived to even find the exit to their houses.

Honestly, it was the most exercise Elijah had given his mental abilities in years, maybe even centuries! His presence enough was usually enough, even without either of his brothers around. And this was for his family, given how much Kol clung to him. As though Elijah would just vanish as soon as he let go, even though he had given his word that he would stay.

Not even their other siblings suddenly calling for help would remove Elijah from Kol’s side now, not for the world. Even if the blood kept getting on Elijah’s clothes, and Kol was still scared to drink from anything other than Elijah’s own wrist or neck. Even if he did wish for some privacy sometimes, although Elijah knew better than to ask aloud. He didn’t want Kol to freak, after all, and he knew that he would, if Elijah made any move to leave him.

The blood from this recent act of vengeance wasn’t going to get on his clothes, thankfully. Or well, they were, but that was only because Kol was wearing an ill-fitting dress shirt of Elijah’s today, and he was closest to the man they were torturing.

Knives were a favourite, although the fire from the lighter was a close second for Kol. Burning the wounds, cauterising them only to make new ones, brought screams from his former tormentors, and Kol revelled in it. Paper scrunched up into a ball, soaked in gasoline. He shoved it into the man’s mouth, letting him choke on it.

Then, Kol set it on fire.

It caught quickly, first the paper and then the man’s beard around his mouth, spreading along the hairs until his face was alight. If he could’ve screamed, Kol knew he would’ve, like how Kol had screamed when they’d set him alight via the sun. Like when they’d burned so many other vampires to dust, trying to see if they could replicate what happened with Kol.

It felt just, to watch the man burn to death, cooked alive inside his own skull. The restraints kept him there, and Elijah didn’t even try to move them away from it, understanding that Kol needed to watch. For himself, and for justice to feel as though it had been served.

“Thank you,” He would later whisper to his older brother, as they set out from the burning house.

Elijah would hum in response, but just continue walking as though Kol didn’t say anything. Like it was a given that he would go this far for him, that Kol shouldn’t even feel the need to thank him for it. And, after thinking over it for a little longer, Kol thought he liked it better that way.

[aquietwritingcorner]

Echos of Horror

Title: Echoes of Horror Fandom:  TMNT 2003 Word Count: 3207  Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating:  T Characters:  Donatello, Raphael Warning: SAINW Summary:  Lord Simultaneous had called Donnie’s nightmares “echoes in the timestream” and told them to deal with them. That was easy for him to say. If he was the one holding his twelve-year-old brother after he had just relived the most traumatizing event in his previous life’s experience, Raph was certain the short Time Master wouldn’t be so glib.     Notes:  Part of the Little Don AU, an AU I’ve had forming in my head where, during a crisis with the Time Scepter, Don sacrificed himself to save everything. Instead of it killing him, though, it turned him into a baby, and his family has needed to raise him all over again.  ff.net || AO3

_________________________________

Echoes of Horror

Raph stretched as he padded softly into the lair, rolling his shoulder, trying to work out the soreness in it. He didn’t go out with Casey nearly as often as he used to, to bust heads, and he was starting to remember why. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, not even close at thirty-four, and Casey was older than him. They didn’t quite move or heal the same way. Still, though, sometimes he needed the release, and Casey was always happy to be his back up, just like Raph was for him. It let him get out some pent-up frustration and help a few people along the way.

Not wanting to wake anyone up, Raph moved quietly, heading first to the bathroom to clean up a bit, shower the grime of the city and the blood of some thugs off of him, and then, when that was done, to the kitchen, to grab an ice pack for his shoulder. It wouldn’t hurt him to have that.

The lair was silent, everyone in bed, and Raph couldn’t help but reflect on how it was kind of lonely. Mike wasn’t up playing his video games or watching his horror movies at all hours of the morning. Leo wasn’t training or perched somewhere reading a book. Splinter wasn’t taking his tea or watching his sons fondly. But the one that hit the hardest was that there was no sound of tinkering coming from the workshop. No lights on, no clacks of the keyboard, no random sounds of tools.

It sent a pang through Raph’s heart. Up until they were nearly twenty-three, that had been almost a constant. If Raph went out late, when he came back, he was almost sure to find Don awake and puttering around his workshop. If he wasn’t awake, then was still most likely in his workshop, having fallen asleep there. Raph sometimes wondered if Don did that on purpose, waited up on him, but he’d never gotten up the nerve to ask. He wished he had.

But now the workshop was silent this late at night. Donnie, while being allowed to pretty much do what he wanted in there during the day, was still only twelve. And while he was granted more and more freedom as he grew, both Splinter and Leo came down with a hard no on him spending all hours of the night working. Raph knew it didn’t stop him from sneaking things in his bedroom anyway—one they had moved upstairs with the other brothers only a year or so ago—but he wasn’t allowed to just putter around the lab at all hours of the night.

Raph missed it.

Shaking his head to clear it of the nostalgia, Raph made his way towards the upper level, skipping the stairs entirely and just leaping up. He could hear Mike snoring away in his room as he passed and Leo’s gently, steady breathing in his. He passed by Donnie’s expecting to hear the sounds of heavy breathing, or muttering, or even the tinkering of small tools. But he stopped short as that wasn’t what he heard at all.

He stood outside of the room, listening, hearing what sounded like terrified, staccato breathing. Raph didn’t waste a second. He opened the door to check on his baby brother.

It was a well-known fact that Donnie had nightmares. He’d had them since he was little, most of them relating back to something from his previous life. He wasn’t supposed to have any memories of that previous life, but Lord Simultaneous had called them “echoes in the timeline” and basically told them to just deal with it.

Yeah, easy for him to say, when he didn’t have a baby brother who’d been wailing in terror over things he couldn’t understand since he was one.

The impact of the dreams seemed to have lessened as Donnie had gotten older, but he still had them, and his brothers still made sure to wake him if they heard him having one.

So, Raph didn’t waste a second, entering Donnie’s room. He expected to find his brother moving slightly in his bed or having just woken up. What he didn’t expect to find was a wide awake and clearly terrified twelve-year-old who looked like he had just been traumatized.

His eyes were blown wide, tears pouring down his face. His breathing was coming in uneven gasps. He was shaking like a leaf. His head jerked up when Raph entered the room, and as soon as he realized who it was, he was launching himself at Raph as best he could on shaking, trembling limbs—which wasn’t very well.

Raph immediately sped forward to catch his brother, keeping him from meeting the floor with his face, and gathering him up in his arms. Donnie let him, gasping, shuddering, and crying against him, clinging with everything he could manage, one arm around his shell as far as the boy could reach, the other clinging to his brother’s head.

It was alarming. Donnie had gotten less cuddly and less prone to letting his family see his tears or when he was upset as he’d grown, but especially in the past couple of years. He’d been insisting that he was growing up, and he didn’t want to be coddled as much anymore. For him to suddenly be clinging this much, for him to be this scared, this upset, something was very, very wrong.

Raph held him tightly, stalking out of the room and back towards his brothers’ rooms.

“Leo!” he bellowed, and almost immediately Leo was at his door, sword in hand.

“Raph?” He questioned, concern flowing through him when he saw the way that Raph was cradling Donnie.

“Get blankets,” was all Raph said. Leo nodded, put his sword away, and hurried to do it. “Mike!”

Mikey had already been stumbling towards his door, and he blearily leaned out of it “Whazzit?” he said, and then straightened up a little when he saw Raph and Donnie. “Donnie?”

“Pillows,” Raph said.

He heard Mike run off to take care of that, even as Raph, still holding Donnie, jumped to the lower level.

“Sense--!” Raph started, only to cut off when he saw his father already standing outside of his door. “Oh.”

“Raphael?” Splinter said, hurrying towards the pair. “What is wrong?”

Raph shook his head. “Dunno. But it’s a bad one.”

Splinter nodded. “Come. Bring him to the living room.”

Raph nodded and followed his father to the living room. Leo had already gotten there with as many blankets as he could carry, and Mike wasn’t far behind him with plenty of pillows. Splinter almost immediately got to work preparing them a nest, as he had often done when they were kids.

Donnie just hung onto Raph and trembled, tears soaking Raph’s shoulder. Raph rubbed a hand over Donnie’s shell, instinctively churring as he tried to soothe his little brother. It took him a moment to realize that Donnie had ahold of his mask tails, something he hadn’t done since he was very, very young.

The nest was finished quickly, and the brothers gathered in it. Splinter moved to go to his chair, but a strangled noise from Donnie had the rat returning. “Donatello?”

Don pried a hand loose from Raph, and held it out, shaking, to his father. Splinter didn’t hesitate, immediately moving in and gathering Donnie to him.

That was when Donnie burst into loud, noisy sobs, holding onto Splinter as if he were afraid that he might disappear. Mikey reached out to him with his left hand, running a hand down Donnie’s shell.

“Donnie? Buddy? What’s wrong? What happened?”

Donnie twisted his head around to stare at Mikey, and his eyes traveling over him, and then looking at his arm for a moment. He twisted in Splinter’s hold, and grabbed Mikey’s arm, holding tightly to it. Mikey, startled, automatically pulled Donnie towards him.

“Donnie?” he said again, with no response.

“Donnie?” Leo said, leaning in. “Donnie, talk to us. We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s wrong.”

Donnie looked up at Leo, staring at his face. His breath hitched, but finally, he spoke.

“You’re all alive,” he whispered out. “I… I…” he shuddered, but frantically looked over his family. “You’re not dead.” He let out a sob, and launched himself at Leo, who caught him, holding him tightly. “I didn’t kill you!”

Everyone glanced at each other and understanding grew, Mikey rubbing at his arm. Raph began to feel his eye itch as things started to make sense to him.

Splinter leaned forward, placing a hand on Donnie’s head. “My son. I know it is hard, but can you tell us what you saw?”

Donnie’s breath hitched, but the twelve-year-old nodded and turned a little to face his family. “It…it was this world. But things were destroyed. I was older and I didn’t know how I got there. There were Foot everywhere and the Shredder had come back and taken things over.”

He sniffed and hunkered down in Leo’s lap. “Mikey found me first. He was a lot older and… and he was missing his arm.”

Mikey waved his arms around and reached over to playfully grab at Donnie’s arm. “Hey, no worries, I’m old and I have two arms right here!”

Donnie’s chin trembled, even as he looked at Mikey. “Um… He took me to Aunt April. Her hair was short and gray. Uncle Casey was dead. They were trying to stop the Shredder.” He looked up at Splinter. “He also took me to Father’s grave.”

“And yet I am here, and whole, as is Uncle Casey,” Splinter said with a soft smile. “Please continue.”

Donnie nodded. “Aunt April got Leo and Raphie to come. Raphie was missing an eye, and Leo was blind, I think. And they were angry with each other.”

Leo and Raph looked at each other and then, in unison, both of them slid their masks off.

“Look here,” Raph said. “Both eyes, working fine. And I ain’t angry with Leo.”

Leo leaned around so that Donnie could see his face. “My eyes are fine, too,” he said. “And I’m not mad at Raph.”

Donnie nodded, but it didn’t seem to relieve him. Instead, he looked down at his hands, pulling at his fingers.

“What happened next?” Splinter prodded softly.

Donnie looked back up at him, and his eyes started to fill with tears again. “We… we wanted to stop the Shredder. But no one thought we could. But I did. And I made a plan. I made a robot suit for myself, and we took a tunneling vehicle into Shredder’s stronghold. We were supposed to get him in place so I could chain him to the drill, turn it on, and let it kill him. But…”

His breath hitched, and he started crying again, curling into himself. “But you all died instead!” he wailed. “These Karai bots killed Mikey! They stabbed him and cut him up! And then Karai killed, Leo, she stabbed him in the back! And Raph—Raph tried to kill Karai, but she killed him, too! Aunt April was the only one that didn’t die, and she killed Karai! I did kill the Shredder, but—but—”

Donnie’s breath caught again, and he turned into Leo, who held him tightly. “You all died! You all died! I watched you all get killed and murdered and it was all my fault! It was all my fault! I saw it and heard it and smelled it and—and—”

Donnie dropped back into hysterical cries again, and Leo tightened his hold. Nuzzling his head, and rubbing his shell, Leo rocked Donnie back and forth, gently shushing him. Raph shifted so that he was closer, and Mike followed suit. Splinter, too, moved in, the family closing ranks around the young turtle.

After a few minutes, Donnie calmed down a little, and slowly peeked out of Leo’s hold.

“…it was a memory, wasn’t it?” he asked, quietly, his voice shaking. “From other me.”

Splinter moved closer, and reached out, gently pulling Donnie to him. Donnie willingly went to his father, cuddling close to him. Splinter held him, running a soothing hand along his shell.

“It was,” he said after a moment. “An enemy managed to gain control of the Time Scepter and used it to scatter us across time and space. Donatello—Don—was sent to a place thirty years in the future. The Shredder had taken control, the family was broken apart, and Leonardo, Raphael, and Michelangelo did have the injuries you had described. Don did come up with a plan to defeat the Shredder, and it did cost the lives of those brothers. That April told him that he had given the world hope before I managed to pull him back from that place.”

“So… I did kill you. Or he did. He killed them. And that means I did. I—I really did kill my brothers—” Donnie said, his tears picking up again.

“No!” Raph leaned forward, and grabbed Donnie, pulling him close. “No! Don didn’t kill us, and neither did you!”

“But—” Donnie started.

“No!” Raph said, cradling Donnie, but pulling back enough that Donnie could see his face. “You didn’t kill anyone,” Raph said sternly. “You and Don are not the same person. You didn’t kill anyone, and you didn’t kill us. That blood isn’t on your hands. And it wasn’t on Don’s. It was on that Shredder’s and Karai’s. They are the ones who killed those other brothers. They’re the ones that were responsible. All Don was responsible for was reminding those brothers of what they should have been doing. But he wasn’t responsible for their deaths.”

Donnie stared at Raph’s face, his chin still trembling. His hands came up, curling around the edge of Raph’s plastron, just like he used to as a baby. “…But it could be,” he said. “It’s not been thirty years, yet.  What if—what if it can still happen?”

“I don’t think it can, Donnie,” Mikey said softly.

Donnie turned his head to stare at him.

“Don told me about it once,” he said, waving his hand around. “Like, years later. He said that it didn’t make sense that it was our future. I mean, first there was the fact that we went to the future and nothing like that had even happened. But also, there were a lot of small things that didn’t add up. That Mike had said that Don had just disappeared. And, don’t get me wrong, Don was super paranoid about it for a while. But there wasn’t ever a time when he just disappeared. We always knew why, if it happened. And if you disappeared, well, we would have been a lot older than what Don described if it had been thirty years,” he said, making a silly face at Donnie.

He turned a bit serious again. “And then there was the tunnler. That thing got destroyed when Karai destroyed the Y’Lyntian lair. I know, I was driving it. If that was the future we were heading towards, then the tunnler would still be around. Either that, or you would have built another one, which you haven’t. Plus, when we did that whole multiverse thing? Yeah, Don told me later that one of the other realities that popped up when our Shredder was looking at the turtle-multi-verse, he recognized it as that future that he went to.”

Mike reached out with his left arm, and poked Donnie in the snout. “Don thought that it was probably not our future, but that it was an alternate reality, but one that was really close to ours.” He transitioned to giving Donnie’s head a rub. “So, like, you don’t have to worry about it happening to us. It happened somewhere else.”

Donnie stared at Mikey, his attention rapt. “R-really?” he said.

Mikey sat back, but nodded. “Yep. Really.”

Donnie sniffed, and looked down, processing the information.

“Ya see?” Raph said, softening his stern tone a bit. “You weren’t responsible, and it ain’t gonna happen again. And even Don wasn’t responsible. It wasn’t his fault, and it ain’t yours.”

“My son,” Splinter said. “Come here.”

Still trembling and tears still falling from his face, Donnie pushed himself out of Raph’s hold and crawled over to sit in front of his father.

Splinter smiled sadly at him, and reached out, cupping his face. “My son,” he said. “What you dreamed happened. We cannot deny that. Just as we couldn’t deny that, his actual brothers or not, the death of those brothers deeply impacted Don. And now, it is impacting you as well. That, we cannot and will not deny. But know this. Even if Don had been responsible for their deaths, even if we blamed him, we would not blame you. You are Donatello, but you are not Don. And nothing that Don did, for good or bad, is on your hands.”

Splinter leaned forward, putting a kiss on Donnie’s forehead. “This has impacted you, understandably. But know that we are here for you. You are allowed to be scared, to be upset, and to mourn. No matter who is responsible or not, you are allowed. And we will be here for you.”

Donnie teared up again, and leaned into his father, curling up with his head on Splinter’s lap, crying. Splinter let him, running a hand on his shell.

“We will be here for you,” Splinter repeated as the young turtle sobbed.

Donnie eventually fell asleep again, head pillowed on Splinter’s lap. Leo moved a few things around, making sure that Splinter was as comfortable as he could be with Donnie sleeping on him like that, and then the rest of them made themselves comfortable and dropped off to sleep one at a time, all of them staying close together.

Raph woke up abruptly a few hours later. The lair was dark, with the exception of the slight glow from the televisions. He could see Splinter, still propped on pillows, with Donnie’s head in his lap. Mike had wormed his way beside Donnie, his left arm thrown across Donnie’s shell. Leo was sleeping, curled on the other side of Donnie, a hand reaching out to touch their baby brother. Everything seemed to be fine.

And then Donnie whimpered a little.

Raph reached out, reaching over Mike, and rubbed Donnie’s head. “It’s okay, bud,” he said softly. “Ain’t nothing gonna get ya, and ain’t nothing gonna happen to us tonight.”

“Raphie?” the boy mumbled. “You promise?”

“Yeah, kiddo, I promise. I’ll keep watch, alright?”

Something about that seemed to reassure the boy, and he settled down again. Raph watched him for a few minutes, making sure that the boy was going to drop back into a better sleep, and then he made himself comfortable sitting up. Don or Donnie, it didn’t matter. Both of them had to deal with that experience. Both of them were suffering for it. And Raph knew that both of them always felt better when he was keeping watch.

So, until Donnie dealt with this, Raph would keep watch, in one way or another, if it meant that his baby brother felt safe and secure.