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peacelovepandora · 1 year

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Exceeding It All

Jake Sully x Daughter!Reader

@missdreamofendless : "I’ve always wanted to see something with Jake and his newborn daughter, I just think it would be adorable"

^ thanks for the idea love !

enjoyyyyyy <3

. *. ⋆

Within the confines of the elders' quarters, Neytiri was in the process of giving life to you. Pacing frantically, Jake struggled to check his emotions as he awaited the birth of his third child. His two sons, Neteyam and Lo'ak, were being watched by other members of the clan. Though it was the middle of the night, far into the hours of eclipse, adrenaline kept Jake wide awake.

Neteyam and Lo'ak had both been quick births. However, tonight, Jake's mind raced as he noted how much longer you were taking.

Was everything okay? Was there a complication? Was Neytiri alright?

It took all of his strength not to burst into the tent. He'd already interrupted the elders four previous times. He knew that--should he make it a fifth--that they would be far from pleased with him.

As he tried to control his breathing, he looked down at his hands, dusting them at his sides.

Were his hands clean enough to hold you? What if he infected you with something and got you sick?

Frowning, Jake shook his head. He'd already done this twice before. Why was he so nervous with this one? What was different? Searching his mind for an explanation, he couldn't help falling into a cycle of affectionate thoughts.

What would you be like? Would he have another son to accompany his two others?

Relaxing a bit, Jake chuckled to himself as he envisioned three rowdy boys padding through the forest. Then, looking down at his hands, he finally made up his mind.

"Yeah, I should go wash up," he whispered to himself.

As he prepared to leave, a faint jakesully caused him to halt his movements. Turning around, he was met with the sight of Mo'at, holding the entrance beads back with one hand.

After a moment's silence, Jake finally spoke. "Mo'at?" Jake asked breathlessly.

"It is time," she replied, before nodding towards the inside of the tent, "Come."

For a moment, Jake stared at her, mouth agape and eyes wide. Then, swallowing thickly, he brushed his hands over his torso before sucking in a breath. With a small smile, Mo'at waited for Jake to approach the entrance before turning around and walking inside.

As Jake's heart pounded in his ears, he pulled the beads aside before stepping into the fire-lit quarters. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust--for he'd been relying on the bioluminescent lighting of the forest outside. Once they did, he spotted Neytiri's limp figure. Eyes closed, she was taking deep breaths as exhaustion crossed her expression. Moving quickly, Jake kneeled by her side, cupping her face in the process.

"Baby?" he whispered, rubbing a thumb over her cheek.

"Let her rest, Jakesully," Mo'at instructed, "She has just been relieved of the burden of birthing your daughter."

"I kno--" Jake spun around, eyebrows creased as his mouth fell agape. "Daughter?"

Mo'at raised her eyebrows. "Yes," she answered, "Eywa has blessed you with a daughter."

Sticking her hand out, Mo'at gestured towards two other elders. They were two women, both sitting on the floor, backs to him. After standing up, moving at a careful pace, Jake stepped towards the women. Feeling his presence behind them, one of them glanced back, meeting his gaze before scooting to the side. As she did so, he was finally given a view of you, his daughter.

Your small body was lying on a weaved blanket. Small, nearly inconceivable, noises were coming from your tiny lips. Instantly, Jake was taken back to the births of his two sons. Both boys had been loud babies, crying as soon as they'd reached the world.

But you, you were quiet. Your coos grew softer as your legs kicked out. Then, reaching out, your small hands grew agitated--reaching out for a purpose that was unknown to you.

Jake, however, was fully aware of that purpose. An aching paternal instinct fueled his heart with a fierce protectiveness that had never been so strong before.

Your eyes were closed. You had entered the world only minutes before. And yet, your newborn instincts could already recognize someone of your own blood. The small fibers in your body felt his presence and knew to reach out for him.

"Oh my," he breathed.

Gingerly, the woman sitting closest to him scooped you up. Jake had little time to register the moment before you were being handed to him. Sucking in a breath, Jake reached his hands out, cupping your back and head.

Quickly realizing this was an awkward grip, he readjusted himself to cradle you. Leaning back slightly, he released his breath as he tucked your head into the crook of his arm. Though he was capable of supporting you with one arm--given that you were just that small--he tucked his other arm beneath you for extra security.

Daughter, his mind echoed.

For a long moment, he remained silent as he gazed down at you. He hadn't realized that his mouth had fallen agape until his throat grew dry. Closing his mouth, he forced a swallow before nearly panicking as your eyes popped open.

Jake blinked, feeling his heart race as he held your gaze for the very first time. However, as your fresh gaze morphed from sudden-alertness to curiosity, Jake's demeanor softened, as well.

After releasing a long exhale, he finally broke the silence. "Wow," he spoke breathlessly, feeling a small smile tug at his lips, "Hey, baby girl. There you are."

"Were you expecting another son?" Mo'at asked, raising an eyebrow as a smile tugged at her lips.

"I don't know what I was expecting," Jake answered distractedly, never ripping his gaze from you, "but this . . . God, this exceeds everything. Every expectation I ever had. She exceeds everything."

As a small whimper escaped your lips, Jake frowned, instinctively searching your body.

"She's uncomfortable," Mo'at explained as Jake gently bounced you, "Fresh out of the womb, her body temperature is still warm. We must bathe her now."

"Let me," Jake spoke up, a little too harshly.

The women grew silent, staring at him. Jake's gaze shifted between the three of them before correcting himself.

"I mean . . . I never got to bathe my sons. It would be greatly appreciated if you would do me the honor of allowing me to bathe my firstborn daughter."

The two women looked to Mo'at. Lips pressed together, Mo'at scrutinized Jake's possessive grip on your small frame. After a few more moments of silence, she released a sigh before nodding once.

"Very well," she agreed, "but I will instruct you on how to conduct this properly first."

. *. ⋆

"Okay," Jake breathed, gently lying your body against the carefully-arranged leaves, "Alright."

Releasing his grip from behind your head, Jake began arranging the bathing supplies. In a militant manner, he repeated Mo'at's steps within his mind.

However, after a few minutes of feeling the absence of his hands from your body, a small whimper escaped your lips. Immediately, Jake turned his attention from the soap and ointment, focusing his sharp gaze on you.

"Hm?" he hummed, reaching out to take your small hands between his pointer and thumb fingers, "Hey . . . hey, baby. Easy, sweetheart, I'm here. I have you."

Upon feeling his touch, your whimpers dissolved. A smile tugged at Jake's lips as he caught on to your desire to remain close to him.

"Yeah," he whispered, nodding slightly, "I've got you."

Leaning down, he placed a light kiss on your forehead. Then, turning his attention back to the soap and ointment, he continued to organize them, keeping a loose grip on one of your hands as he did so.

When he was satisfied, he released a breath before giving you his full attention, once again. Turning to face you, he returned his grip to both of your hands. He rubbed his thumbs over your skin as he spoke in a hushed tone.

"Okay, baby girl," he began, "you wanna do me a favor and make this easy for me? It'll be better for the both of us in the long run."

Cooing softly, you held his gaze before tugging your hands from his grip. Hands outward, you reached for his face.

A tender smile pulled at his lips as a fond expression crossed his face. Leaning down, he allowed your hands to hover over his cheekbones. Then, closing the distance, he gently pressed his forehead against yours.

A delighted coo left your lips, before a giggle followed it. Jake, who had temporarily closed his eyes, snapped them open. Leaning back, he gave himself a full view of your tiny face. A smile danced on your lips as you giggled up at him.

Shaking his head, he placed two kisses on your forehead. He followed them with two kisses on your cheek.

"You're so beautiful. You're such a--"

He interrupted himself, placing two kisses on your stomach, eliciting giggles from you. "Such a pretty girl," he finished.

As you quieted, he kept his gaze trained on you. "Alright," he rasped, gently wrapping his hands around you, "Let's do this."

Carefully lifting you, he positioned you over a carefully carved bathtub, which was filled with soft shrubs and lukewarm water. A soft pillow, which had been folded together from a leaf, laid at the edge of the tub---giving cushion for your head to rest on above the water. Gingerly, he lowered you into the water, holding his breath as he awaited your reaction. To his relief, the slight change in environment didn't seem to disturb you.

Puffing his cheeks out, he released a breath. "Okay . . ." he whispered, trying to bury his apprehension.

He knew from experience that his babies could sense his emotions, and the last thing he wanted to do was make you nervous. After releasing you, allowing you to grow accustomed to the water, he grabbed a cloth and the first soap.

Your curious eyes watched his movements, as he dipped the cloth into the water before soaking it with soap. After placing the soap down, he turned his attention back to you. Meeting your eyes, a small smile tugged at his lips.

Tilting his head slightly, he spoke up. "Alright," he whispered, lowering the cloth to your skin, "let's start with this little belly, shall we?"

With a feather-light touch, he moved the cloth in circular motions against your skin. The combination of his motions, and the water, relieved your overheated body. A small smile tugged at your little lips as you cooed up at him, enjoying the sensation.

He smiled, a playful glint evident in his gaze. "There's that smile," he said softly, "Is this what you needed, baby? Feels nice, doesn't it?"

Your legs kicked briefly in response. As he began to move to your arms, gently grabbing your little limbs and washing them, he continued to talk to you.

"Guess it makes sense that you'd be pretty warm and uncomfortable after being in the womb for so long," he whispered, before meeting your eyes, once again, "but you're here now, aren't you? As beautiful as ever."

He moved to your legs, gently running the cloth over your soft skin. “I gotta tell ya, you were quite the little surprise,” he continued, “but that isn’t your doing. That was all on me. It’s like I forgot there was a possibility that I could have a little girl.”

When you eyed him curiously, he chuckled. “Aw, cut your daddy a little slack. After having two sons, it’s easy to just expect another one.”

Finally, he slowly poured water over you, washing the soap off. “But I’m so glad that I got you, baby girl," he finished, a small smile tugging at his lips, "You were the last thing I ever expected and the best thing I could've had."

He remained attentive to your every move as he finished washing you. Then, gripping you carefully, he lifted you from the water and placed you on a large, warm cloth. His eyes grew distant as he spoke.

"Never really thought about having a daughter, but now that I have you, I think I subconsciously wanted one all along."

He releases a breath through his nose before locking eyes with you. A content expression crossed your face as you squirmed slightly.

"Ah!" you said, responding to his string of sentences that you had yet to understand.

He chuckled, nodding his head. "That's right, baby," he replied, leaning closer to you, "I'm talking about you."

Gripping the sides of the towel, he dried your damp body with gentle pats. Then, shifting his gaze for a moment, he grabbed the ointment before placing it next to your little body.

"Okay," he breathed, "The hard part is over. Now, we just gotta lotion you up."

Dipping his fingers into the cup of ointment, he scooped up a generous amount before rubbing it together in his palms.

Watching his movements---with fresh eyes that marveled at everything---you found humor in his actions. A giggle escaped your lips as your eyes zeroed in on his hands, observing him rubbing them together.

Jake paused his actions, glancing down at you. He raised an eyebrow before briefly rubbing his hands together for a moment, testing your reaction. When he paused his actions, another giggle escaped your lips.

He let out a brief chuckle, furrowing his eyebrows in curiosity and slight confusion. Then, he rubbed his hands together again, before pulling them apart and showing you the ointment on his palms, wiggling his fingers to flaunt the liquid texture.

His actions elicited a fresh wave of giggles on your part. Chuckling softly, he glanced at his hands before looking back at you.

"Is that funny, baby girl?" Jake asked, affection seeping through his tone, "Do you like seeing Daddy struggle with pampering you?"

You cooed in response, a small smile still dancing on your lips. He shook his head, smiling softly as he lowered his hands to your body. With a tender touch, his fingers moved in circular motions over your smooth skin, massaging in the moisturizing liquid.

When he went to get another scoop of liquid, he made a show out of his hand movements, exaggerating each rub and wiggling his fingers in the air. To his delight, this sent you into a fit of laughter.

He tilted his head back in laughter before tilting his head. "This is really gettin' you goin', isn't it?" he asked, "I can't help wondering what you find so amusing about this . . . but I guess it doesn't really matter. If it makes you laugh, I'll do it all night."

Once he finished moisturizing you, he swaddled you in a light blanket, making sure you wouldn't grow too warm. Finally content, he lifted you into his hands and cradled you in his arms.

"There we go," he whispered, adjusting you slightly, "How's that, sweet girl?"

Your eyelids grew heavy as you blinked up at him. Still awestruck by your existence, he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaning back to take you in. Once he began rocking you, it didn't take long for you to nod off in his arms.

"A daughter," he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief, "A daughter that's all mine."

As he held you, he reflected on what having a little girl would entail---the journey that was ahead. Though Neteyam and Lo'ak were still young, he never had a second thought about who their future partners would be. His mind had never lingered on what teenage girls might find them intriguing during their adolescent years. And yet, as he stared down at you, his little girl, he was overwhelmed with a strong wave of possessiveness as he pictured your adolescent years.

No boy would come near you. No boy would touch you. He would make sure of it.

Jake's mind grew still as he caught himself in the midst of these racing thoughts. This was new territory for him.

You were his little girl. As he thought about how he would go about raising you, his instincts veered from what he'd done with his sons. Of course, he wanted you to be strong, and to know how to defend yourself, but that instinct wasn't at the forefront of his mind---like it was for his sons.

Instead, more than anything, he wanted to . . . shield you. He wanted to hold you close and keep you away from harm. He wanted to see you blissfully pad through the forest and marvel at Eywa's creations, just like your mother. He didn't want to see you fight---not if you didn't have to.

Jake made a vow to himself. He promised to not only protect you, but to remain in tune with your emotional state. He knew that raising his tender baby girl would require different approach---compared to how he was raising his two rowdy boys.

"I'm here for you, baby girl," Jake whispered, brushing a thumb over your cheek, "Always."

. *. ⋆

omgggg I finally put this out! thank you so so much for your patience, and a special thank you to all of you that have remained loyal, continued to check in, and/or simply stuck around for me! I cherish you all and I hope you are all doing well and having a great summer!

as usual, let me know what your thought are about this! it's been awhile since I've delved into this universe, so if anything comes off a little rusty, I apologize!

anyways, all my love!

hugs and kisses x.

Taglist : @eywas-daughter @pturnersblog @bombshe77 @faatxma @scryarchives @gamorxa @222krn @ellabellabus07 @perfectprofessorloverapricot @raefoxiegirl @vampxra @itssiaaax @tinkerbelle05 @brittclass-18 @missroro @aisylazzy @leomatsuzaki @joey-hoey @eternallyvenus @mae-is-crazy @nyotamalfoy @mashiromochi @theghostofshadows @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @cmfouatslota77 @laylasbunbunny @fanboyluvr @phxntomx11 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @ellabellabus07 @abbersreads @23victoria @sully-stick-together @uselessbutinteresting @fleursbending @missdreamofendless @prty-poisxn

#jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully daughter #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully x you #avatar way of water #Jake Sully fluff #Jake Sully x y/n #soft #protective Jake sully #Jake sully 2009

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tabarkraed · 4 months

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Giving birth is a profound and transformative experience for any mother, but the stark contrast between bringing a child into the world during a war and in a peaceful environment is heart-wrenching. Imagine the emotional turmoil and physical hardship faced by mothers who deliver their babies in the midst of conflict, within the confines of a makeshift tent, surrounded by the constant threat of danger.

For my friend’s @bilalhammadsblog sister and sister-in-law, the journey to motherhood was fraught with fear and uncertainty. Instead of the calm and controlled environment of a hospital, they endured labor amidst the chaos of war, with explosions and gunfire as their background noise. The tent that served as their delivery room was a far cry from the sterile, well-equipped birthing suites that most mothers have. There was no access to pain relief, professional medical care, or the comforting presence of loved ones.

The conditions were harsh and unsanitary, increasing the risk of infections and complications. The lack of clean water, proper nutrition, and essential medical supplies made every moment perilous. These mothers had to summon unimaginable strength and resilience, not only to give birth but also to protect and care for their newborns in such dire circumstances.

In contrast, mothers in peaceful settings prepare for childbirth with a sense of excitement and anticipation. They attend prenatal classes, have regular check-ups, and often create a birth plan with their doctors. Their biggest concerns might be about the birth itself or the baby's health, but they are surrounded by support and resources. Hospitals are equipped with advanced technology, skilled professionals, and all the necessary amenities to ensure a safe and comfortable delivery.

For these war-affected mothers, there is no such assurance. Their overwhelming joy at meeting their babies is tinged with the constant worry of how to keep them safe and healthy in an environment that is anything but. The basic comforts and reassurances that should accompany childbirth are replaced by the harsh realities of survival.

Every cry of their babies is a reminder of the fragility of life in a war zone. The emotional toll is immense, as they grapple with the fear of losing their children to preventable illnesses or injuries caused by the surrounding conflict. The physical exhaustion from childbirth is compounded by the stress of providing for their newborns in such conditions, often without adequate rest, food, or medical care.

Despite these overwhelming challenges, these mothers display an extraordinary level of courage and love. They hold on to hope and fight every day to give their children a chance at life, even in the face of such adversity. Their strength is a testament to the incredible resilience of the human spirit, even in the darkest of times.

Please open your hearts 🤍

and donate to support these courageous mothers and their precious newborns. Your generosity can provide the essential care and comfort they desperately need during this harrowing time. Every donation is a lifeline of hope and love for these innocent lives. 🙏🏻🙏🏻

#freepalastine🇵🇸#free palestine #palestine 🍉#stand with gaza #pregnant #dp

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allthecanadianpolitics · 2 months

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Calgary-based Baby Gourmet Foods has issued a product recall for its Banana Raisin Oatmeal Organic Whole Grain Cereal, which is sold in 227-gram packages. Cronobacter is a bacteria that is sometimes found in dry foods, such as powdered infant formula, powdered milk and herbal teas, according to the Government of Canada website. The bacteria can cause serious or fatal infections to the bloodstream, central nervous system and intestines especially in newborns. The Canadian Food Inspection Agency (CFIA) says the recall was triggered by agency test results. On its website, the CFIA says food contaminated with Cronobacter may not look or smell spoiled but can still make people sick.

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland, @abpoli

Date of Article: July 21, 2024

#product recall #health #childcare #cdnpoli #canada #alberta #canadian politics #canadian news #canadian

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yellowjackets96 · 8 months

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i owe you a black eye and two kisses / angus tully x reader

summary / after defending your best friend’s honor in a scuffle with kountze, he decides to take first aid into his own hands.

warnings / mentions of blood, bruises, and general injuries

word count / 2K even!

heyyy, baby’s first x reader fanfiction! cannot believe i have been alive nearly twenty damn years and never once did this. who crode?

You cannot seem to remember when the blood started to pour from your mouth or the moment you realized Kountze’s nose should not be pointed in that direction, but both moments hit you like a freight train when Angus grabs your arm.

“Holy shit!” he exclaims, fingers prodding at the newborn black eye on your face. “You– you– my god.”

As cooly as possible, you pop your neck to the side and smirk. “Heh. All in a day’s work.”

“You could’ve killed him,” one of Kountze’s goons says, tending to his nose. The blonde bully is shell-shocked, a state of mind you previously believed to be inherently against his nasty nature.

You scoff, shrugging at the lackey. “I’m sure his daddy can help,” you remark, spinning around on your heel and striding out of the room, with a hyped Angus in tow. He’s so energized, he could probably shoot himself off the walls like a projectile and fly back to you like a boomerang.

“I can’t believe you had that in you,” he mutters, still quite bewildered by your sucker punch. “In all my years of knowing you…I don’t think he’ll ever bother me again, now.”

You turn slightly to grin at him. “Hey, I’m glad to hear it. Guy’s a real fuckface and a half. His reign of terror has gone on far too fucking long.”

Once you get to your modest dorm room towards the end of the hall, you feel Angus reach out and touch you once again, and he gazes at you sternly, his expression mirroring a way only your mom looks at you. You roll your eyes, hands not moving from turning the key in the door. “What’s the matter, Tully?”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, a deep grimace on his face. “He was shit-talking me, not you. And now you’ve got a black eye, your lip is busted, and you could’ve lost teeth, and–”

You swiftly cut him off. “So? You’re my best friend. I was simply defending your honor. Little shit shouldn’t be able to get away with mocking your familial situation. It’s not like you can control it.” Twisting the knob to the side, you gently push the door open and step into the room, eyeing him slightly. “You can come in, if you’re not planning on lecturing me.”

“Well,” Angus says, shutting the door behind him. “You can ignore my chastising to high heaven, but you’re still going to need some wound care for the black-and-blue knuckles, swollen eye, and split lip. Even if you don’t wanna ice the bruises and bumps, though, you need to keep the lip stuff from the point of possible infections.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “Everything that could possibly hurt is just…dully throbbing. And I’m sure all the bleeding was due to how shallow the cuts were. I need nothing more than an ibuprofen and a bandaid.”

For the third time, the boy takes a grip on your arm, lanky digits wrapping around your cold skin gently enough to leave no mark, but firmly enough to stop you definitively in your tracks. “Sit down,” he states, the edge of hoarseness in his voice causing it to be barely above a whisper. “Now.”

You find his forceful tone compelling enough to follow his commands, pushing your swivel chair around until it faces forward and reluctantly take a seat. “Fine. Have it your way.”

“Thank you,” Angus says, winking at you before immediately diving headfirst into rummaging through your cabinets and drawers. “You’re gonna need the whole nine yards of first aid care here. Just be patient, okay? I know from you doing it for me that the process tends to be lengthy.”

“Whatever you say,” you murmur. “As long as you don’t break anything valuable during your expedition into my belongings.”

He turns to you with a hearty smirk, arms filled with cotton pads, alcohol wipes, hydrogen peroxide bottles, bandages, and tweezers, among multiple other things. “Oh yeah?” he says, seemingly challenging you as he places the supplies on the desk behind you. “And what would you do about it if I did?”

“Probably cut up my end of our friendship bracelets,” you reply, not missing a beat. “You don’t even wear yours, anyway.”

Angus does not even need to speak to refute your claim as he pushes his sweater sleeve past his watch, revealing the braided object in question is still on display on the part of his arm that no one can see. Your jaw goes slightly askew at the revelation. “I stand corrected.”

He chuckles, sufficiently satisfied with the exchange as he flips the cap open on one of the peroxide bottles, pressing it against a cotton pad. Once he determines it to be prepared enough for your bloodied mouth, he looks over at you, eyebrows furrowed in thought. A moment of contemplation passes – he closely scans your face up and down, down and up, enough times to be able to sketch it perfectly from memory, as he nods to himself. With a steady step forward, he places the pad between his thumb and pointer finger and goes in, forcefully dabbing it against your bottom lip. All of the miniscule amounts of warmth escapes your body as you roughly suck air in through your teeth, grabbing a fistful of the cuff of his sweater.

“Does that hurt?” Angus asks, wide brown eyes filled with an entire galaxy’s worth of concern. “Be honest with me.”

You grind your teeth, putting as much effort as humanly possible into a brave face. “It stings, that’s for sure.”

He quickly withdraws the soggy gauze from your mouth. “Good news, then, ‘cause I’m already done with it.”

“Shit!” you exclaim, hands flying up to your bottom lip. “Really?”

Snickering at your shocked face, Angus tilts his head to the side, examining your injuries again. “Yup. I think you were right about it being shallow. I’m no med student, but I don’t think it’s at risk of developing any kind of infection.

Melting back into the chair, your face is overtaken by a relaxed smile, in spite of yourself. A few seconds pass before curiosity overtakes you and you peer over your shoulder to ogle at his activity. You’re met with the completely ridiculous sight of him attempting to maneuver a bandaid into a jar of petroleum jelly. “Jesus, Angus!”

He can’t help himself from laughing at your reaction. “What? You didn’t have any ointment!”

“You said my lip’s fine!” you respond. “Unless you were trying to soften the blow of my oncoming sepsis by lying to me.”

He shakes his head emphatically. “No. I just wanted to see if I could make it hurt less for you.”

“It doesn’t,” you insist, waving him off.

“Really?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest in judgment, once again harkening back to something an authority figure in your life would do. “Then why were you tugging at my shirt like a damn seven-year-old at a grocery store?”

You scowl at him, face overtaken by a shade of red that only appears when you’re trying not to laugh at him. “I hate you.”

Angus laughs a sharp ha!, face wrinkled up in a simper as he pulls himself back up to your level, an ice pack in either hand. “No, you don’t. You wouldn’t have kept me around for so long if you did.” He drops the ice packs in your lap and points at your cheek. “I can’t believe you were insisting on letting these wounds take care of themselves, dude. Your cheek’s swollen as hell.”

“How bad is it?” you curiously ask, brows quirked in thought.

“Well, the verdict’s already in that you’ll survive this,” he quips, earning a laugh from you. “So that’s out of the question, but if I didn’t already know you, I’d assume you either victoriously won or pitifully lost a professional boxing match.”

You playfully smack at his shoulder as he breaks into a laughing fit. “It was a compliment!” he defensively mutters, picking up one of the ice packs. “The thing’s a bona fide war wound, I swear. You look badass.”

“You should see the other guy,” you remark, watching him intently as Angus brings a hand up to your face, softly touching the ice pack to your bruise. “Also, I can’t believe you would call me badass. You must be buttering me up for the next time you have a bone to pick with Teddy.”

“Nah,” he denies, raising the pack slightly further up. “You’ve always been badass, ever since we were old enough to speak our minds. It’s a mindset in my eyes, since you never really looked like I imagined one being.”

Your face instantly softens as you gaze at him, studying the way he intently deals with something as uneventful as a bruised cheek. “You’re just being nice because I look like hell.”

Angus pulls his attention away from the ice pack to meet your lingering eyes. “I’m as serious as a car crash. You’ve always had this self-assured attitude, no matter who you were dealing with. The way that I don’t back down from a physical fight is exactly how you are in verbal sparring matches, but you’re, just, so much cooler in terms of that, ‘cause you refuse to relent on your beliefs. I could never be so firm when I speak to people, even if I try my very fuckin’ darndest.”

“I-I had-” you stammer heavily, effectively caught off-guard by his words. “No idea you thought so highly of me. That’s so incredibly sweet.”

“Well, you deserve to hear it,” he says, taking the ice pack off of your face. “You’ve been such a constant in my life, and I seriously don’t know who or where I would be without you. Hell, you even BEGGED your parents to let you transfer to every single school I ended up in post-expellings! I can’t help but idolize you. You were born with an insatiable fighting spirit. Nothing and nobody can get to you.”

Before you can form a single coherent thought, you blurt out four words you would never even dream of saying to Angus Tully. “Can I kiss you?”

Silence falls over the two of you like a curtain as Angus gazes up at you, eyes full of wonder, mouth hanging open. Before long, his lips turn upward in one of his signature smiles. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Lifting his hands up, he gingerly cups your cheeks with his hands and dives in, pressing your lips together in a delicate embrace. You close your eyes on impact, heart lighting up with an intensity you are not sure you have ever felt. Holy shit! Kountze must have killed you! This has to be heaven! The moments pass fleetingly before Angus finally pulls away, a genuine, natural, adorable little grin on his face as he sheepishly doesn’t face you, cheeks burning a soft, passionate pink. You must have been an idiot for never making a move all these years, but at least you finally got struck with the urge to do so.

“Y- your c-ch-” and now, like poetic justice, he is the one who’s been bitten by the stutter bug. “Your cheek looks better already. How about we get some ibuprofen in you and then we – okay, you have to step in if I embarrass myself here – step off of campus to go get some dinner?”

You’re smirking now, trying not to giggle at the unseen shy side he keeps so carefully locked away. “Angus Tully, are you asking me on a date?” He tries his very best not to avoid eye contact with you again as he nervously nods in confirmation. You reach out for his hand, interlocking your fingers together like puzzle pieces. “Well, then. I’d have to say what I’m sure you’ve been waiting to hear come out of my mouth all these years – yes.”

#angus tully #angus tully x reader

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cowgirlgirl2002 · 10 months

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Very tired of hearing how women think their weak and how men are biologically better when is is actually not true at all so here's why women are stronger, I'll put medical and scientific facts about women

1. Women have stronger Immune system

Females have better innate and adaptive immune responses to disease-causing pathogens than males. Females also produce better protective antibodies following vaccination against flu, yellow fever, dengue, and viral infections.

Females typically develop higher innate, humoral and cellular immune responses to viral infections and in response to vaccine

Women see more colors than men

Even when compared to males who have not been diagnosed with color blindness, women seem to be able to distinguish between colors more easily than men. This allows women to more accurately identify the color of an object that may be between two similar hues, like blue and green.

Women have better night vision

However, studies have suggested that there may be slight differences in night vision between men and women. One study published in the journal Ophthalmic and Physiological Optics found that women had better visual acuity in low-light conditions than men.

Women have better muscle endurance

While men usually have the upper-hand when it comes to strength, it may be surprising to many that women may actually have better muscle endurance than men do. Research has shown that in stamina-related exercises, women were able to exercise for about 75% longer than men could. It is suggested that the presence of estrogen in women makes their muscles more resistant to fatigue, and that women have more efficient metabolism within their muscles as compared to men.

Their bodies are structurally made for greater flexibility

When it comes to stretching and flexibility, women have an advantage in several ways.Firstly, their female muscles and tendons contain more elastin, the protein which gives our muscles, organs and skin the ability to stretch, and this gives them greater flexibility on the whole.

Women have higher levels of estrogen in their bodies, leading to wider hips that allow greater movement and flexibility in the pelvic region

Women are way more agile

Women on the other hand have greater agility.This is partly explained by the fact they are smaller and have a lower centre of mass thus are able to change direction and move quicker than their male counterparts. In addition balance is better for the same reason.

Women have stronger legs/lower body

In lower body absolute strength, a woman is 75% as strong as a man. This difference is usually attributed to the similar daily usage of legs between men and women. Both walk and use our lower body muscles about the same. This is not the case in daily activities using upper body strength.

Women have higher survival rate than men

Analysis of three centuries of historical data showed women are more likely than men to survive famines and epidemics. Their advantage is earned early. Female newborns were more likely to survive trying circumstances during the last three centuries. women has fundamental biological underpinnings is supported by the fact that even under these very harsh conditions, women survive better than men, and this starts at a very young age.

Women are more resilient

Several studies show that women score higher on the resilience scale than men. A study found that women outlived men during severe famines and epidemics. This survival advantage was found to be modulated by an interaction of biological, environmental and social factors.

They have better chances of surviving traumatic injuries

Another likely reason for women's longer life expectancy could be the fact that they have higher chances of surviving injury and trauma. Researchers, in studying data on patients who arrived at hospitals with traumatic injuries, found that women in the age range of 13 – 64 were significantly more likely to survive. Again, the key to this advantage may lie in the higher levels of female sex hormones in women, which may have an enhancing effect on the immune system.

Women have better memory

Remembering the faces of people you have just met may be a challenge for many, but it may be apparently less so for women in general. Women have been found to be stronger in memory skills than men, as suggested in studies where they outdid men in memory tests. Their superior memory skills are not just limited to remembering things, like items on a list, but also faces of people as well. Other studies have found that women can remember faces better than men, as they unconsciously spend more time studying features of new faces.

#women #eco feminism #feminism #radical feminism #radical feminist #nature

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xagave · 7 months

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Absolutely, get ready for BABIES. The oldest foster we have right now is Lazarus who we got when he was 3 months old from a hoarding case. He had an extremely bad case of herpes that almost killed him and it turns out he has a really bad immune system so he's always getting sick. He's about 8 months old now and he's sort of a long term foster because he currently has FIP and treatment requires one shot every day for 80 days minimum. The meds are a bit expensive so shameless plug but if anyone wants to help us pay for the meds my wife's ko-fi is here

Here he is the day we brought Lazarus home ^

And here he is now! His FIP treatment is going very well so far ^ Our second oldest are Penny and Kazoo. We got Penny when she was 5 weeks old from a guy whose dog brought her home in his mouth (she was fine the dog was gentle.) We got Kazoo when he was 10 days old from some dudes in the next town over who didn't have time to bottlefeed a newborn. Kazoo is 2 weeks older than Penny and they became best friends!!

10 day old Kazoo and 5 week old Penny ^

Kazoo and Penny now ^

Kazoo and Penny at an adoption event ^ We're having a hard time finding them a home because we refuse to split up bonded pairs

Penny playing in the tub lol ^ Next are a batch of kittens we got from an irresponsible breeder who was fine with letting kittens get sick and starve to death. We originally only got 2 of them when they were 3 days old (breeder let mom cat get sick and die because she didn't want to pay for vet care and tried to pawn the babies off on the other nursing moms and it didn't work out) and they were born premature so they had a lot of health problems. They had rhinovirus and coccidia and the little brown kitten had an umbilical hernia that then became septic and THEN she started getting big pockets of infection in random places like under her chin and in her toes? But we managed to get them healthy and fat and thriving. My wife was able to convince the breeder to give us the remaining kittens 3 days ago and they're half the size of our first two because they've been sick and slowly starving this entire time (they're now 5 weeks old). They're still really sick and have Poop Liquid Until You Die disease so it's not fun on our end but we're working hard on getting them fat and healthy. They don't really have official names but we've been calling them Zoosmell Pooplord, Insufferable Prick, Flighty Broad, Farmstink Butlass, and Huss lol

The first two nuggets ^

They were sooooooo small ^

Finally fat and healthy at 3 weeks old! ^

The full litter now at 5 and a half weeks old ^

Comparison pic ^. Right kitten is the nugget we've had since he was 3 days old and left kitten is his brother who the breeder just now let us take. It's hard to tell with the fluff but he's borderline skeletal :( Next is a 3 month old kitten that a foster brought to an adoption event who was very clearly sick. Skinny and lethargic with a bad coccidia infection so we took him home that day 1.5 weeks ago and also sent the foster person home with some medicine to fix the coccidia in their other kittens. We've been calling him Christmas Tree Boy cause he's always got a poofy tail or Poop Boy because he hates sharing litter boxes and keeps pooping in random corners 😒 Didn't take long to get him healthy so this weekend he's getting yeeted into another adoption event and whoever adopts him needs to give special attention to his Litter Box Needs

^ He's very cute and loves playing with our other fosters but for the love of god we are TIRED of his Poop Surprises Someone who adopted a bonded trio from us a few months ago is returning them to us tomorrow because their fiance is allergic, so as of tomorrow we will have 12 fosters in our house. Sounds like a lot but we've had 30+ foster kittens crammed in here at the same time so it's a breath of fresh air in comparison💀

Edit: Not a foster kitten but honorable mention to my new betta who I named Gemini because You Know Why

He has a 5 gallon tank all to himself but I don't have a pic of him in it cause he's shy and he hides lol but it's the one behind the cup. Aiming to give him live plants soon

#p #peak kitten season is hell on earth this is NOTHING in comparison

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bonefall · 1 year

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Question: Since the mutation that makes sphynx cats nakey (their hair is fragile and sucks) can just happen at random. How would a Clan treat a nakey cat born among them? Could they make them a coat?

I think, at first, there would be concern that it's some kind of sign. Hairlessness looks like mange, a very serious and contagious condition. This could be a terrible omen-- that mange will be brought down to us.

But it would become apparent the kitten isn't a fader, it isn't a StarClan warrior who came down to deliver the others, or a mere sign. It's pink and wrinkled, like a newborn rodent, but moves as the other kits do. Did StarClan... forget its fur?

There's another feared creature without any fur-- humans. It looks human.

I think the poor thing would have a lot of problems with the other cats its age and maybe the more superstitious members of the Clan, but a warrior of the Clan is a warrior of the Clan. Life would be harder for them, but there would still be love that exists.

They'd be capable of making them a coat, and they WOULD need it, but I can see that cat trying to go without it for fear of being made fun of. That's another thing humans do-- wear pelts all over themselves because they have no fur of their own.

Unfortunately they'd also be prone to a ton of really bad health problems. This poor guy would be in the Cleric's den a lot, and may need to retire early or focus on campbound activities.

Health problems;

Pelt is a LOT weaker; injuries from battle or even training would be a lot more severe, Cleric may recommend them not taking part in fights.

Skin becomes filthy, and needs special cleaning. There is no fur to absorb the oil that the skin naturally makes to keep the coat healthy, causing buildup.

Even with proper cleaning, the skin is super prone to rashes, lesions, and constant irritation. Wash TOO MUCH and the skin will become dry and chapped.

SUNBURN. Especially in WindClan, where the warrior might spend a lot of time on the open moor in daylight, and RiverClan, where light reflecting off the water could cause an intense burn. It would be recommended the warrior take night shifts, but this could be an issue because night is cold. (BB!Cats are crepuscular).

Additionally; such severe, uniquely-placed sunburns are something Clerics wouldn't see very often. Lack of medical experience with these sorts of injuries could prove dangerous.

Ear infections. Cats naturally have hair in their ears, which their earwax production accounts for.

Both heatstroke AND frostbite. Very bad temperature regulation leading to severe ailments. Fur helps stabilize body temperature.

So in conclusion...

Life would be very difficult for this individual. Fur isn't just full-body hair; it's almost as fundamental as a top layer of skin. This would be a serious disability for a Clan cat to have, and it may invoke the image of detested humans leading to social stigmatization.

But because they're clanborn, they are unambiguously a member of the Clan. It's likely that the Clan would make clothing for this warrior out of fur pelts, but in their struggle with internalized ableism, they might have conflicted feelings about wearing it.

The Cleric would recommend campbound activities, night shifts, and WEARING YOUR PELT, DAMN IT. They would need to take full baths every few days, not too much and not too little, plus frequent ear cleanings.

#Clan culture #Hairless cat #Disability #for the record. Im not pro-sphinx breeding. I think that's obvious but... I don't think this is ethical.#They can live full lives with extra proper care but I don't think this is just a cute trait that's ok to select for #we shouldn't intentionally breed animals that produce oil for fur we've altered out of them #And they're so prone to rashes and lesions and wax buildup...#There's WORSE breeds but that's also not okay.#they are also not hypoallergenic. Common misconception. They will still bother your allergies if you are allergic to cats.#Because the allergen is the OIL AND DANDER #Not just fur broadly #BUT an animal born this way still deserves sympathy and a full life #and Clan cats always care ferociously for their own.#So if it popped up as a mutation they would be cared for #But if they had the chance to become a kittypet... that might actually really be their best option #Or a daylight warrior even!

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northgazaupdates · 2 days

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My friend Suad is despondent. She and her family have been displaced since the IOF bombed their home in Gaza City nearly a year ago. They have eked out an existence in shelter centers, friends’ and strangers’ homes, tents, and even open streets. Her firstborn Khaled was born under IOF bombing, and has struggled with malnutrition for his entire life up to this point. They have been displaced over a dozen times, often barely escaping before their prior location was bombed. You can read more about this situation in our “#Suad Ahmad” tag, as Tumblr has inexplicably deleted Suad’s blog for the 4th time.

The bombing is almost constant, and the debris dust from the bombs is so omnipresent that little Khaled struggles to breathe. Contaminants in the air, water, and scarce supply of food cause him to break out in frequent rashes, which occasionally ally afflict Suad as well. Khaled also has a frequent fever caused by a chest infection for which there are little or no available antibiotics.

Khaled requires medications, doctor visits, and the use of specialized breathing equipment for medical treatment which can only be used when a kind stranger allows the family to power the machine with their solar panels. As an infant, he also requires diapers. Astonishingly, the price of diapers in Gaza has risen to over $50 USD for a small pack. Anyone who has ever spent time with a baby knows that babies require mountains of diapers. $50 barely buys a day’s worth in Gaza.

Additionally, this is going to be Khaled’s first winter, which means he has no winter clothes of any kind. There are some winter clothes for infants for sale in Gaza, but they are extremely expensive. Khaled is sick and also suffers from malnutrition, making him more vulnerable to the elements. Winters in Gaza are wet, windy, and cold, and this past winter saw the deaths of many infants and young children due to hypothermia.

Suad has been running a campaign to support her family’s evacuation for several months, but progress has been sporadic. The evacuation costs are exorbitantly high, and the cost of hopefully beginning their lives anew in Egypt will be extremely high also. In the mean time, Suad requires mutual aid for food, water, medications, winter clothes, doctor visits, diapers, and transportation.

This little boy deserves everything. He deserves to only know joy, to learn and grow in safety and health. He was born into a world which is largely neglectful of his suffering. Please be the exception. Please help this little boy and his family survive in a world that has turned its back on them.

Thank you❤️

Link to support Khaled, Suad, and their family

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pjshermann · 7 months

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Jude's Timeline

Since there are no dates or determinable time period (beyond the fact that it's set in the 21st century) in A Little Life, I love trying to figure out the timelines of the characters themselves. So here's Jude.

Newborn

Born in South Dakota

Abandoned as a newborn and taken in by the monastery

5 years old

Received a fossil from Brother Luke for his birthday

7 years old

Had his hand burnt by Father Gabriel

Sexual abuse by the Brothers began

8 years old

Given a set of wooden logs for his birthday

Abducted by Brother Luke and forced into prostitution

11 years old

Began cutting himself

12 years old

Rescued from Brother Luke

Placed in a boys group home in Montana

13 years old

Meets the Learys

Beaten by the counselors, causing life-long scarring on his back

14 years old

Runs away from the group home in Montana

Abducted by Dr. Traylor and held captive for four months

15 years old

Run over by Dr. Traylor, causing his life-long disability

Rescued from Dr. Traylor

Meets Ana

Begins living with the Douglasses

16 years old

Ana passes away

Briefly lives in an emergency shelter

Has a summer job at a bakery

Leaves Philadelphia, and starts his undergraduate study at an unnamed college in Boston

17 years old

Met Andy Contractor

Gifted a model house by Malcolm

18 years old

Began working as a classics professor's amanuensis

Dr. Traylor dies in prison

20 years old

Graduated from his undergraduate study and goes to France for the first time

Began Law School at (presumably) Harvard

Began his Pure Math Master's degree from MIT

Met Harold Stein and Julia Altman

21 years old

Stayed at Harold and Julia's house for the first time and imagined they were his parents

Had an unspecified internship during the summer

Invited to Harold and Julia's summer house, Truro, for the first time

22 years old

Learned to drive (from Harold)

23 years old

Graduated Law School

Graduated Masters at MIT

Began his clerkship in Washington, living in the living room of an unnamed legislative assistant

24 years old

Given keys to the Cambridge house by Julia

25 years old

Moved to New York, living at Malcolm's parents' house

Began working at the U.S Attorney as an assistant prosecutor

Moved out of Malcom's parents' house to Lispenard St

26 years old

Has his first episode in front of Harold, who sings to him

Willem finds out about his cutting

Jumps off a roof with his friends at Lispenard St

27 years old

Broke the mug that Jacob made

Attended Andy's wedding

29 years old

Began tutoring Felix

30 years old

Adopted by Harold and Julia <3

31 years old

First contacted by Lucien after working on case for Thackery Smith

Finalized the contract for a job at Rosen Pritchard, after the elevator broke once more at Lispenard

Contacted by Rob Wilson (Some unknown from the home)

32 years old

Bought his Green Street apartment

35 years old

Became a partner at Rosen Pritchard (the youngest one in the firm's history)

36 years old

Picked out a suit for Malcolm for his wedding that would happen that year

Began the renovations for Greene Street

37 years old

Broke off his friendship with JB after the latter mocks his disability

38 years old

Scolded by Harold out at dinner for working at Rosen Pritchard

40 years old

His former Master's advisor, Dr. Kashen, passes away

Attended his former classmates, Lionel and Sinclair's, wedding

Began dating Caleb Porter

Broke up with Caleb Porter

41 years old

Attempts suicide and is briefly institutionalized

Goes to Morroco

43 years old

Caleb port a potty dies <3

Began dating Willem

45 years old

Has his big fight with Willem and tells him about his childhood

46 years old

Buys a flat in London on Harley Street

The last time he would truly walk on his own. No aides, no prosthetics. This is during a trip to Bhutan

47 years old

Starts getting lots of wounds on his legs and bone infections

48 years old

Gets his legs amputated

49 years old

Starts walking again

50 years old

Set up scholarships for Julia and Harold at their respective universities

Loses both Willem and Malcolm (and Sophie) to a drunk driving accident

51 years old

His loved ones hold an intervention for him

52 years old

Went to Rome

Taught Harold how to cook

Asked to be the chairman of Rosen Pritchard

53 years old

Took his own life :(

If there's anything here you think should be added let me know. And of course this isn't every single thing that happened to Jude, just some main events or events that helped pinpoint the timeline. So if there's a scene/event/anything that you'd like to know the timeline of, let me know (inbox)

#a little life #a little life play #jude st francis #een klein leven #a little life book

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gotstabbedbyapen · 4 months

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But now we must know, what are your headcanons for the first generation of Gods siblings? Personally? Zeus isn’t allowed to swim with Poseidon cause they always fight and Zeus goes toaster in bathtub mode where he’s the toaster.

I haven't considered Zeus doing the "toaster in bathtub" thing. Thank you Anon, I will put this into my HC list :3333

Now on with the first-generation Olympians (it's gonna be a long ride, so strap on!)

Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, and Poseidon were swallowed when they were young kids/nearing adolescence, not newborn babies. I want Kronos and Rhea's family to have some years of happiness together before the prophecy ruin them all.

Out of the Big Six, Demeter and Hades look the most alike to Kronos (unrelated note: Persephone looks the most alike to Kronos out of the 2nd gen)

Demeter is Kronos' favorite child because she shares his power over agriculture. Kronos has even planned her future to be his successor as goddess of the harvest.

Poseidon has the fear of dark, closed places due to his trauma of being locked in Kronos' stomach. During his first centuries ruling the ocean, he cannot stay in his kingdom at night because the realm gets extremely dark and it paranoid him. Poseidon can't go to the deep trenches either.

To cope with his fear, Poseidon's bedroom is filled with bioluminescent algae and jellyfish.

After escaping Kronos' stomach, Hera was sent to take refuge at Oceanus and Tethys' place. Around this time, she became besties with Amphitrite (I see Amphi as a daughter of Nereus but she is close with the other sea deities too)

Thetis and Hera's friendship is underrated. Hera, Thetis, and Amphitrite have occasional girl's nights where they ditch their spouses to spend time together.

As besties Hera and Amphitrite share the same taste in men *looking at Zeus and Poseidon*

Hera and Amphitrite were not happy when Zeus married off Thetis. Oh boy, there were a lot of screaming and fighting for Thetis' behalf.

It was very surprising when Thetis later made her husband Peleus immortal (there is a version of that lol)

Zeus and Poseidon created the electric eel and other aquatic animals that produce electricity. The purpose? Ask them.

When Hebe was training to become the cupbearer of the gods, Zeus watched over her and gave her tips from time to time. He used to be the cupbearer of Kronos, too.

I am seriously contemplating on whether Poseidon have a thing for Odysseus or not. Like in "I want to fuck you up both ways".

Hades doesn't outright ban the others from coming to the Underworld. The reason he doesn't like them visiting often is because some will ask (read: screaming and crying at) him to resurrect their favorite mortals.

Hades adopted Cerberus some times after Typhon (Cerberus' bio father) was defeated and the doggo had nowhere to go. From then on Cerberus was living in luxury in the Underworld with the only job is to guard the door.

Hades has a messed up sense of humor after centuries of dealing with the dead, and Persephone got infected as well. If you ask Hades "Can you give me a hand?" he will give you an actual hand.

Hades x Persephone x Minthe OT3 is real.

Hades isn't some gloomy dark man. Yeah, he wears black a lot but also with gleaming gems and fine jewelries (you know, god of precious minerals and all).

You don't believe me? Here's the testimony:

(tfw your husband rocks his dress prettier than you :DDD)

The three kings didn't draw lots to determine who will rule which realm. During the Titanomachy, they grew fond over their future kingdom and showed hints of belonging to them.

Poseidon's first hint of becoming King of the Sea is that he makes lots of sea puns. Like, a lot.

They also don't have total rule over their kingdoms. Their authority is above all but still under the Primordials of their respective realms (Zeus is under Nyx, Poseidon under Pontus, Hades under Tartarus). Every time they make major changes in their kingdom, they have to consult the Primordials first.

Demeter isn't officially crowned ruler of the Mortal Realm but they all know she is in charge of the whole place.

Even though the Big Six preside over lots of domains, they don't always tend to each one themselves but have lesser deities like dryads, naiads, nepheles, etc. to assist them while they act like the head directors.

The marriages of the three kings and queens are more about political power than love. It's not that they don't have some feelings for each other though.

When they were young and Zeus is courting Hera, he once put on a peacock tail to woo her.

Demeter is married to Leto and they raised Persephone, Artemis, and Apollo together. I don't take objection.

All of the second-generation Olympians were taken care of by Hestia at least one time.

Do not mistake Hestia's dislike of violence for her incapability of inflicting violence. She can cause more damage than your mental health is prepare for.

Hestia doesn't yell or hit others, but disappointing her is the biggest crime.

Demeter makes the best vegetable dishes, roasts, soups, anything. Kids love veggies because of her. She can make you love broccoli with one meal.

Headacanon but also true myth: Demeter adopted and raised lots of kids on her own. Many of them later became her companions or spread the agricultural knowledge they learned from her to humanity. They all love mama Demeter.

Hera treats her daughters better than her sons, but it's because she is learning from her mistakes in bringing up Ares and Hephaestus. She isn't the best but she is trying everyday.

Zeus doesn't hate Ares, but what he reflects. Ares is a raw reminder of a darker side of Zeus that he'd rather pretend doesn't exist.

I've made this joke before but it's still relevant: The only thing more complicated than advance mathematics is Zeus and Hera's relationship with Ares.

Zeus' favorite children are Athena and Apollo, obviously. His least favorite (as in he doesn't care enough compared to others) are Ares and Persephone.

Iris and Chloris/Flora are not straight because of Hera, but they know they won't have any chances with her.

Zeus' first lover is Aëtos, an earth-born man who was his childhood friend when he lives in Crete.

In the modern world, the lock screen of Hera's phone has the picture of her family being happy together. And her home screen is the pic of Zeus in a Pikachu onesie.

#zeus #demeter #poseidon #hera #hades #hestia #the twelve olympians #greek gods #greek goddesses #greek mythology #sibling shenanigans #headcanons #ask me anything #tumblr ask #anon ask #long post #The Pen writes answering letters

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blue-mint-winter · 1 month

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Daella's fears and her sisters' fates - a clue to Gael's death?

In my post about king Jahaerys' reign I noticed that Daella's fears were connected to tragic fates that befell her sisters. I went through the book again and here's what she was scared of:

Alyssa

Vaegon

kittens

dragons, even Silverwing

a prince from Summer Isles, dark-skinned, with a feathered cloak,

singing (by herself)

bees

horses

old gods/marriage before weirwood

pregnancy

She cried because of:

Vaegon saying: "She should find some lord in need of stupid children, for that’s the only sort he will ever have of her.”

scoldings

being asked to read from Seven-Pointed Star

a boy trying to kiss her without permission

maester not letting her hold her newborn child (that one sounds like a normal reaction to her current situation and not having any prophetic reasons)

Jaehaerys listed the major fears of Daella when talking to Alysanne:

"Find her someone. Someone gentle, as she is. A kind man, who will never raise his voice or his hand to her, who will speak to her sweetly and tell her she is precious and protect her…against dragons and horses and bees and kittens and boys with boils and whatever else she fears.”

5 fears, 5 sisters:

Kittens - Daenerys had a kitten, cats hunt rats, rats carry disease, Daenerys died of Shivers.

Boys with boils - Maegelle nursed patients with greyscale, got infected and died (also reading Seven-Pointed Star could have reminded Daella of her sister's future death, causing her to cry).

Bees - Saera's disgrace was caused by her affair with Braxton Beesbury. Additionally, it would explain Daella's fear of flirting squires. (Crack theory because we don't know how Saera died, but it would be funny if she was allergic and died because of a bee stinging her when she was living in Volantis.). Also, Saera said she might like to marry a trader from Summer Isles, which could connect with Daella's fear of the prince of Summer Isles (another theory - maybe Saera lost her virginity with that trader, after all later she was experienced when she corrupted Perrianne and Sweetberry and she did say that the 3 boys were silly and all thought they were her first, implying that they actually weren't. Summer Isles are known for their sexual liberation). Daella's fear of scoldings could be connected to Saera's interrogation/trial by Jaehaerys.

Horses - Viserra dying because she was racing while drunk and fell off a horse. She was also meant to marry a Manderly, probably having a wedding before the old gods, which could be the connection to Daella's fear of weirwood. If Daella's prophetic ability allowed her to see the outcome of different choices, maybe Viserra was doomed to die anyway as a result of that marriage. Or maybe she was doomed to die while running from that marriage - so it was the major, underlying cause of her death.

Dragons - ?

Dragons aren't connected to any of Daella's sisters deaths. The only left are Alyssa and Gael. Alyssa was a dragonrider, but she died from complications after childbirth: "She never fully recovered from Aegon’s birth, and died within the year at only four-and-twenty." This fits with Daella's fear of pregnancy and how she purposely chose a suitor that already had children, thinking that he wouldn't force her to get pregnant (unfortunately for her, lord Arryn was a sicko that "loved her for years" and just wanted to have sex with her). I guess her fear of Vaegon could be connected to the fear of pregnancy as initially Vaegon was supposed to marry her. Though I'm not sure why Daella was afraid of Alyssa as she didn't cause anyone's death and even defended her from Vaegon's hurtful words. (Crack theory without any basis in text whatsoever - Vaegon took revenge on Alyssa by ordering the maester that was taking care of her to do a shit job and that's why she didn't recover after childbirth. If Daella knew, maybe that's why she was scared of Alyssa, probably she was just avoiding her. Sadly, she still caused Vaegon's grudge against Alyssa who humiliated him to defend Daella.)

That leaves Gael. Her fate is described like this:

"A sweet-natured girl, but frail and somewhat simpleminded, she remained with the queen long after her other children had grown and gone, but in 99 AC she vanished from court, and soon afterward it was announced that she had died of a summer fever. Only after both her parents were gone did the true tale come out. Seduced and abandoned by a traveling singer, the princess had given birth to a stillborn son, then, overwhelmed by grief, walked into the waters of Blackwater Bay and drowned."

Daella's fear of singing fits with the traveling singer causing Gael's downfall. However, Daella was afraid of being asked to sing. She had a positive reaction to a Blackwood suitor's singing to her. That makes the involvement of a traveling singer in Gael's death very doubtful. On the other hand, the last clue and fear of Daella that's not connected to any of the other sisters, was fear of dragons.

The strong connection between Daella's fears and her other sisters' deaths should mean that Gael's death is connected to dragons. In addition, it makes the whole "true tale" of Gael's death suspect because Daella did not fear water or drowning - she visited Driftmark to see Corlys who was one of her prospects and she only got seasick on the boat. Oddly, that one voyage she took didn't cause any fear or tears.

Some fears/causes of death were literal, like kittens and horses, so it could be that a dragon caused Gael's death. Maybe she tried to claim one on Dragonstone and it burned her or she fell from its back and drowned in the sea. Would Jaehaerys cover it up? Probably, it would look bad for his propaganda how Targaryens are special and godly if it was known that his daughter was killed by a dragon like any commoner.

Fears of singing and dragons can be connected - I'm basing this on HOTD, not the book. In the show Daemon was singing to dragons to prepare them for new riders. Maybe Gael tried singing to a dragon she wanted to claim but it didn't work and she was killed?

The whole theory with Gael failing to claim a dragon assumes Dragonkeepers were sleeping on a job as Jaehaerys created their order to prevent any unsanctioned claiming of dragons after Saera's attempt. However, she may have tried to claim a wild dragon on Dragonstone, so the theory that her death was caused by a literal dragon can't be entirely discarded.

On the other hand, the fear of bees connects to a Beesbury, which is a metaphorical interpretation. Therefore fear of dragons may refer to a Targaryen causing Gael's death but which one? The list of suspects is: Alysanne, Jaehaerys, Baelon, Viserys, Daemon. All people who had access to Gael.

Events surrounding Gael's death:

92 AC - Aemon's death, Baelon becomes Prince of Dragonstone, Alysanne quarrels with Jaehaerys about succession and goes to Dragonstone

93 AC - Alysanne's last flight on Silverwing, birth of Laena, Viserys claims Balerion

94 AC - Alysanne and Jaehaerys reconcile, birth of Laenor, Balerion's death

95 AC - Alysanne breaks her hip and starts using a cane to walk

96 AC - Maegelle's death

97 AC - birth of Rhaenyra, Daemon's marriage to Rhea Royce

98 AC - great tourney at King's Landing, whole family gathers, Septon Barth's death a fortnight after the tourney

99 AC - Gael gives birth to a stillborn child and dies, then Alysanne returns to Dragonstone; Baelon becomes Hand

100 AC - Alysanne's death

101 AC - Baelon's death, Great Council

103 AC - Jaehaerys' death, after his death the "true tale" of Gael's death comes out; Viserys is king, Daemon is brought back to court

It's hard to say what was the order of events within a year because Gyldayn sometimes mixes it up. For example, it's unknown if Baelon became Hand after Gael's death or before.

Alysanne could be indirectly responsible for Gael's death due to smothering she did to the girl. Maybe the life under her mother's thumb, never allowed to grow up and be free was the cause of Gael's bad decisions leading to her suicide? Counterarguments: Alysanne was infirm, walked with a cane and was going deaf (couldn't hear singing), I doubt those last few years Gael didn't get more freedom. What's more, Daella worshipped her mother, she was never afraid of her. Gael died in 99 AC, Alysanne in 100 AC from wasting illness and grief over losing her last daughter. I think Alysanne didn't cause Gael's death.

It's important to determine Gael's whereabouts. The quote says that she "remained with the queen" but "in 99 AC she vanished from court, and soon afterward it was announced that she had died of a summer fever". Alysanne went to stay on Dragonstone after Gael's death. So Alysanne and Gael were in 98 AC in King's Landing for the tourney. And that's when Gael became pregnant. Presumably she vanished only when the pregnancy was impossible to hide but Alysanne stayed in court. Where did Gael go?

Out of all elements of the "true tale", Gael giving birth to a stillborn seems the most likely to be true. It's a shame of the family so if she didn't have a child, then the "true tale" wouldn't mention its existence at all and just said that she killed herself because her traveling singer left her. It seems to me that other elements that are questionable and don't fit with Daella's fears are obfuscating the most important mystery - the identity of the father of Gael's child. And the official version of the story is obfuscating it on purpose because it's so scandalous for the man. That man wasn't a mere traveling singer. One of her own Targaryen male relatives seems most likely to be the father and fits with Daella's symbolic fear of dragons as well as known incestuous preferences and traditions of the family. Three of the suspects were married (Jaehaerys, Viserys, Daemon) and one was a widower with a reputation of total loyalty to his dead wife (Baelon). Having a bastard with Gael would cause a big scandal for any of them.

If someone wanted to hide a visibly pregnant Gael, especially from her infirm and overprotective mother, where would he take her? I think the answer is easy - Dragonstone. A place she could try to claim a wild dragon to run away from her captor. Conveniently, Baelon was the Prince of Dragonstone, meaning it was his seat of power and he was ruling it. The same year Gael died, 99 AC, Baelon became Hand, therefore he had to take residence in the Tower of the Hand. Alysanne returned to Dragonstone after Gael's death. If Gael still lived when Baelon became Hand, his absence could have been the perfect time for her to try to claim a dragon (or kill herself). Though Baelon becoming Hand after her death also works.

Baelon spiriting Gael away makes sense thematically within ASOIAF - we have the famous tale of BAEL the Bard kidnapping the king's daughter and impregnating her. In the main story Petyr BAELish kidnaps Sansa and hides her away in his own seat of power. The name BAELon is pretty damning. The connection with the "true tale" is clear: "traveling singer" -> Bael the Bard -> Baelon. Furthermore, the peak of Targaryen romance is "take me to Dragonstone and make me your wife" just like Jaehaerys and Alysanne.

Baelon being the father of Gael's child makes sense. He was a widower and heir, but he couldn't marry her because of Alysanne. Previously Alysanne actively prevented him from marrying Viserra and he was feeling bad for what happened to his sister, wondering if it was his fault. "Prince Baelon was greatly distraught as well, wondering if he should have spoken to his sister less brusquely the night he found her naked in his bed." Baelon had a good reason to hide the affair and pregnancy from Alysanne and also a close place to hide Gael. After Gael died Baelon kept visiting Alysanne. "Only Baelon the Brave remained near her till the end. Her Spring Prince visited her as often as he could and always won a smile from her". He knew how much the loss hurt his mother and tried to make it up to her, probably out of guilt.

Baelon also had a good reason to hide the affair from Jaehaerys who the last time personally killed the man that seduced his daughter (Saera).

Despite all above making Baelon the most likely suspect behind Gael's disappearance, a case can be made that he wasn't really the father of her child, just the person hiding her away. Let's examine the other suspects.

Jaehaerys - it's in line with the theory that he was molesting his daughters. In 98 AC all of them were dead (and Saera was in Essos), except Gael who Alysanne always kept close and protected. In addition, his most trusted advisor, practically his conscience and moral compass, Septon Barth died that year. Maybe after that Jaehaerys took the opportunity to go after the last untouched daughter. Then Baelon realized what was happening with Gael and hid her on Dragonstone, finally saving one of his sisters from her abuser. Hiding this from Alysanne made sense, if she knew, it would break her heart. Whether Jaehaerys knew where Gael was, it doesn't matter, either way he would want her pregnancy covered up to preserve his own reputation.

Viserys - that one seems the most unlikely of all suspects. He was married, Rhaenyra was born in 97 AC and he was probably optimistic about having a son with Aemma. Additionally, he just doesn't seem like the type to have dangerous affairs like that. No true motive. He even had no dragon to kidnap her. I'm crossing him off the list of suspects. However, the "true tale" comes out after Jaehaerys' death, when Viserys was king. He would want to preserve his father's memory as a perfect prince and heir so he would cover up Baelon's involvement in Gael's disappearance. Same if the baby's father was Jaehaerys.

Daemon - it could have been him, he was unhappily married to Rhea Royce and had a known preference for Valyrian maidens. Gael would have been a suitable royal match for him, but Alysanne wouldn't allow her to marry anyone. It's possible that Daemon took the chance at the tourney to seduce Gael and later his father hid this from the king and queen. However, later on we have an incident with Daemon being found in Rhaenyra's bed, when he hoped to get annulment of his first marriage and marry the princess instead. Why didn't he try causing the same sort of scandal with Gael? It must be because he knew that Jaehaerys would just kill him like Beesbury, instead of granting him anything. Viserys posed no danger to Daemon's life on the other hand. On top of that the time of the "true tale" coming out means that if Daemon was Gael's seducer Otto would have probably used it to exile him sooner. It wouldn't be "traveling singer" but the "Rogue Prince" and everyone would know. Therefore, the chances that Daemon seduced Gael are very low.

Did Gael really commit suicide?

A real or figurative dragon's involvement in Gael's death is possible in accordance with Daella's prophetic fear. However, it's uncertain how much Daella knew or understood about her visions. The only people she was afraid of were Alyssa and Vaegon and they didn't kill any of her sisters. She didn't fear lord Arryn who caused her own death from childbirth. She wasn't scared of Jaehaerys, Alysanne, Baelon or any of the other suspects in Gael's case but on the other hand she cried because of boys similar to Saera's boyfriends.

The suicide by drowning can't be entirely ruled out as the cause of Gael's death. Daella wasn't afraid of water or drowning, but maybe she just didn't receive a warning vision because Gael chose to die. All the tragic fates of the other sisters were beyond their control. They all wanted to live and find happiness, but it was taken away from them.

Why would Daella fear suicide? She never wanted to kill herself, instead she worked hard to avoid death and misfortune. Drowning by choice was never a danger to her.

It's hard to say if the tale of Gael's suicide is true or a fabrication. Her situation on Dragonstone may have looked so bleak that it was possible she decided to kill herself. There's no mention of any suicide note which is a reason to question and doubt that the suicide happened at all.

Too many things are unknown, especially in regards to the "true tale" and how exactly it came out. We don't know if Gael's body was recovered, proving that she drowned, if there were any witnesses to her fate and what did they say before being silenced that the official story had to acknowledge their testimony or cover it up for some reason.

Was drowning real or a cover-up for a dragon-related cause of death? Was Gael truly trying to drown herself or did she attempt to escape by swimming away, back to her mother? We don't even know if she tried any other method of suicide or if it was it her first, successful try.

The true cause of Gael's death will remain a mystery as there's not enough evidence to be certain.

Congratulations to those who read this whole long theory post, I hope I wasn't rambling too much and the reasoning was easy enough to follow. Did I connect the dots? I'm open to thoughts about this.

#fire and blood #asoiaf theories #daella targaryen #gael targaryen #saera targaryen #alyssa targaryen #king jaehaerys #jaehaerys the conciliator #my thoughts #baelon the brave

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fleet-of-fiction · 10 months

Text

Jake Kiszka // Female Narrator

Part Two

After a blinding light eradicates mankind, you're left in a desolate and empty world. A year of solitude eliminates all belief that anyone else was left behind. Until a chance encounter on the side of the road. Jake is injured and fighting for his life, but his presence brings a renewed sense of hope. Touch starved and lonely, you need him. And undoubtedly, he needs you too.

"It would be the last man on earth that would end up being mine..."

Explicit sexual content Sex (penetrative & oral) /Foreplay /Blood / Injury / Hunting. / Intense emotions / Death.

Day 396 ~ Amelia

His preferred it when I called him Jake. Whenever I had cause to use his name. He began to move around on his own on the fourth day, stumbling into my side tables and clutching his ribcage with each tumultuous step. Like a fawn on trembling newborn legs.

It was somewhat endearing. The way he smiled through the pain and sat with me at the kitchen table eating vegetable soup and crackers in the silence within which we had both become accustomed to. An impenetrable veil between us that didn't seem to want to come down.

We shadowed one another. His eyes averting to the ground whenever I stole a glance. My concern for his healing injuries something I didn't want him to confuse with mounting interest. Even though I had begun to actively consider him, despite my inward protests that he would one day want to continue his search for others.

He was a gentle enigma. My fear that he might gain enough strength to hurt me dissipated with each passing hour. When he didn't sleep he would sit by the fire with a book, his gaze easing up from the pages whenever I had reason to pass. Sometimes he would smile, other times he would just follow me with his eyes before reverting back to his story.

I didn't want to come to rely on his presence. I had made my choice to stay at the cabin and try to survive. I had driven across the country and seen nothing but desolate emptiness. The hopes of my family sitting on the cabin porch waiting for me dwindling with every mile I'd reached.

I didn't want him to become necessary to me. Even though I suspected that I had become somewhat necessary to him, if only whilst he was still recovering. I prepared myself for the day he would stand up and announce that he was leaving. That day drawing unflinchingly closer by the second.

"Amelia." He said, the sound of my name on an unfamiliar voice sending an unrequited chill down my spine.

There was nothing nefarious in his tone. He sat, quite pleasantly, on the chair which he had commandeered for reading and placed his book on the coffee table by the fire.

"Are you in pain?" I replied, shooting up from my place at the kitchen table where I'd been peeling carrots. "Can I get you something?"

The easing of a joyous smirk curled within the corners of his mouth. As if he was amused by me. Shaking his head as I stood in the open space between the kitchen and the den. Feeling a little foolish for rushing to him like that for no particular reason at all.

"Nothing a little whiskey couldn't fix."

He knew better than to ask for a drink whilst on the course of medication I'd put him on. He was staring at me with a mischief that would usually incite me to join, but I'd tried to keep a professional distance. He was my patient, not my guest.

"I had to put you on a course of antibiotics for the wound to your head." I explained, "I didn't want there to be a risk of infection. If you need some pain relief, I can grab you some tylenol."

His shoulders slumped. And he forgot himself for a moment. Hissing back a stab of pain as he eased back into the chair. He was a terrible patient. Pain didn't sit well with him, despite the fact that I had noticed two major scars running up either side of his left forearm. They were neat and perfectly stitched, no doubt from surgery rather than an open wound. I had meant to ask him about them, stopping myself when I realised that I shouldn't get to know him.

"Forgive me." He sighed, "Sometimes I just need a little something... to forget."

He was bored. I'd seen boredom before. When people who could barely stand would fight to get out of bed just to shift their perspective a little. Nights in the hospital when I'd catch my patients trying to inch their arms up the vending machine to retrieve snacks simply because there was nothing else to do. Nothing good ever came of boredom and he seemed to know this, his gaze shifting around the room looking for something else to do.

"Would you like to help me peel these carrots?" I offered, knowing that it was better than him hankering for a drink.

I pulled out a chair for him as he limped over, seemingly grateful for the distraction. It was still early in the afternoon, but the sun had already dipped below the surrounding trees and it felt much later. I switched on the oil lamp in the centre of the old rustic table, the remains of knives that had been sunk into the old wood scattered the grain. And he noticed.

"Peeled many carrots at this table?" He asked, running his fingers along a particularly deep divet.

What I could offer him, I would grant him. The way he asked so sweetly meant that I couldn't ignore him. My manners were still in there, somewhere. I handed him a peeler and a bunch of carrots encrusted in mud and bade him peel.

"My grandparents didn't believe in waste." I replied, driving the blade down away from me a little more aggressively than I'd intended. "I don't remember a time where this table wasn't here."

He nodded and began peeling a little slower than I would have liked. Taking his time to shave each side meticulously in careful hands so that he didn't cause himself unnecessary pain. Sitting at a strange angle on the admittedly uncomfortable dining chairs.

"It's a nice place." He surmised, "I feel like time stopped here a long time ago and never really caught up."

I quite liked that analogy.

"I guess so." I agreed. "Coming here always felt like I was a child again."

Perhaps he sensed my unease. He didn't say much else for a while, sitting with me in that comfortable quietness as we peeled and chopped and prepared another batch of soup for the coming week. Every now and then he would look up from what he was doing as if to check my mood. To make sure that I was even tempered. And I would try to meet his gaze with something reassuring. Even if I felt like my space was being inadvertently invaded.

"You see places like this in movies." He mentioned, breaking a tension that had seemed to come from nowhere. "Old cabins in the woods. Cosy little fireplaces. Beaten up old furniture and appliances that have no business in the modern world."

I quite liked that analogy, too.

"Well, I think that was the whole point." I shrugged, taking the peeler from him as I took the pot over to the sink. "I don't think my grandparents wanted anything to do with the modern world. They liked it out here. They liked the steady pace. My Dad used to say that they were waiting for the end of the world. Seems a little like a prophecy now..."

I'd said too much. I didn't want him to reel me in, I didn't want him to know me any better than I wanted to know him. The need for conversation had been somewhat diluted with him spending most of his time asleep. But now he was wide awake. Asking questions and spending time with me. And I was terrified of it.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Amelia." He said softly, turning in his seat to face me despite the fact I knew it hurt him to do so. "I'm not going to do anything to hurt you. You saved my life."

His debt of gratitude was misplaced. I'd had no choice in the matter. If I had walked away from that smoking wreck I'd have damned myself regardless, even if faith was something I'd long since abandoned. There was still a part of me that hoped for salvation. I just hadn't known it would come the way that it had. And it was true. I was afraid of him. But perhaps not in the way he perceived.

I was certain that he wasn't going to try and force himself upon me or steal anything. There was a softness to his demeanour that I had picked up on almost the moment he'd regained consciousness. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was which scared me so much. Other than my intense reluctance to have him become detrimental to me. It didn't really have a name.

"I'm sorry." I faltered, letting the sink run a little before filling the pot. "I've just been alone for so long..."

"As have I." He replied without hesitation. "I've driven north and south, east and west. Towns and cities and country. I've slept in cars and trucks and houses that didn't belong to me. Eaten food out of a can and burned shit to the ground just to stay warm. There's nobody else out there. If there was, I'd have found them. I mean, I did...I found you."

The way he lingered on that last word made me not want to look at him. He was sitting on the edge of the chair, as if he was about to get up but couldn't. I turned away from him and filled the pot with water, doing anything that meant I didn't have to turn back around.

But I knew he was watching me. The kitchen was small, the window above the sink overlooking the woods outside. The gravel path leading up to the cabin winding down into encroaching twilight. I could see my reflection staring back in the dim lamp light. And I knew he could see the pain etched on my face through the glass.

"I'm just one person." I reasoned, "I'm not people."

All his belongings had been burned in the car wreck. He'd been wearing some of the shirts and slacks I'd found at the back of my Grandmother's wardrobe since his arrival. Clothes that were ill fitting and didn't suit him at all. He wasn't comfortable in them and I could see that when he rose from his seat. Not just in pain, but conscious of the way he looked as he appeared in the glass behind me.

"Together we are people." He said, keeping his voice low and soft. "I don't know about you, but I'm just glad to know I wasn't the only one left behind."

I did find some comfort in that. It wasn't something I would ever deny. I found the courage to meet his gaze in our reflection, both of us standing at the window and looking out whilst looking in.

"That's what I'm afraid of." I confessed, swallowing thickly on it as if it was trying to choke me. "What if we weren't left behind? What if..."

There was something in his face that let me know I was safe with him. Enough that I'd let my mouth run away with my thoughts again. Made him listen to me, understand me.

"It's ok." He said comfortingly, touching me for the first time with a careful palm to my shoulder, leaving me breathless where I stood. "Everything's going to be alright."

Day 12 ~ Jake

The grid gave up. I only realised when I reached Detroit and every house I broke into had no power. Every single street light failed to come on. Every single TV wore a blank screen. I couldn't cook a meal or enjoy a hot shower. Nowhere to keep me warm. It was as if everywhere was just giving up. Every last trace that mankind was ever here slowly slipping away.

I weaved through cars on the interstate that had been travelling when it happened. Whatever it was, the thing which had left cars with no drivers barrelling down all four lanes. I didn't want to give it a name. To name it would give it too much power and I knew I wasn't ready to search within myself for emotions that could overcome it, yet.

Dogs were roaming freely in the city, now. Calling out for their masters who would never come. I'd found a few dead ones in houses I'd passed through, unable to free themselves to go hunting or find food and water. Cats, too. The ones roaming free were slowly turning back to their primitive states. Others, dead behind locked doors.

I couldn't seem to find anywhere I wanted to stay around too long. The urge to keep moving ever prevalent. There was a fire in my belly that burned so fiercely I couldn't sleep anymore. Determined to find just a shred of humanity left in the world.

And I wouldn't rest until I had. Even the bones of where people had been were paper thin, echoes long since dimmed. I was losing all sense of time. Each day seemed to merge into the next until I found myself sitting on a curb outside the Detroit motown museum. A place where I had been so many times before. A landmark I could put some familiarity to. Only to feel more lost than I ever had before.

I missed my family. My girlfriend. I couldn't erase the sounds of their jovial laughter on Christmas day. Making the most of our cherished time together, which came so seldomly. The look on my parents' faces when we dropped our luggage at the door after months apart. My brothers and my sister all under the same roof we'd grown up in with our partners and our pets to celebrate for just a few precious days.

I couldn't move past it. The way I'd looked to the sky and thought, at first, it was a shooting star. Only for it to evaporate my senses and render me a prisoner within something I couldn't see. Blinded by the whiteness of it. Replaying it over and over for it to still make as little sense as it had on that very first day.

I sat on that curb and I roared. I let the tears come. The anger and the confusion. Waiting for just one voice to respond to my madness. To just ask me if I was ok and if I needed any help. To just let me know that I wasn't completely alone. To no avail. I was screaming into the ether for none to hear it.

Was I left behind? Or was I spared? Where had they gone? Were they taken or did they go willingly? What had I done to deserve this? What had they done to deserve this? If God had done this why did he forsake me? Or was I so beloved by him that I'd been left behind for a purpose not yet known to me?

I pounded my fist into the concrete. Until it was bloody and I could finally feel something. Aching for a resolution that simply wouldn't come. There was only me.

"Don't be fucking stupid, Jake." I told myself, gathering my bleeding hand into the folds of my t-shirt as I tried to figure out what my next move would be. "Nobody's coming."

That was the moment I realised I couldn't survive if I didn't keep moving. That I would die if I stayed in one place. Where there was nothing but memories and slowly decaying homes and I knew I had to tread through these places like a ghost until I found something that resembled another human being.

I thought I had a kinship with the open road. I had travelled it long and hard. But always with my brothers. Their camaraderie and company had been with me all the days of my life. And I knew that there was no music without Josh. There was no song in my heart without my twin. Only a gaping wound that bled for my counterpart. My soul cried out for him in ways that I never thought I'd have to endure. Of all the people I had loved the most, he was the most fundamental to me.

I'd walked through life with Josh, our paths weaving in parallel lines no matter where our feet would take us. Me with my guitar and him with his voice, knowing that we couldn't make it on our own. We didn't fit. There was nowhere for either of us if we were alone. I missed my little brother and my little sister. I missed our parents and I missed the woman I'd chosen to spend my life with. The echo of her laughter woke me from fitful sleep whenever my body gave in to it.

But it was Josh who left me feeling as if my being there was some grave anomaly. That wherever he had gone, I should have gone too. We came into this life together, surely we must go out of it together? I could still feel his presence in the corner of my eye. The outline of him at my side, faded whenever I turned my head to look. And the sadness of knowing I would feel his absence for the rest of my life was a burden I packed into my car and took with me wherever I would go.

That day it was the new centre one mall. I prized the automatic door open and stood in the empty atrium, my own footsteps too loud for me to tolerate. I couldn't bear the reverb of my boots on marble floor.

I didn't linger. I gathered enough supplies to last me a few weeks, not giving too much thought to what I would need. A winter coat and a few clothing items to replace the ones I'd hastily left behind. I grabbed some pain meds from the pharmacy and a few pouches of tobacco. Loading it straight into the back of my jeep, I felt the creepy chill of the empty mall still climbing up my spine as I sped away. Determined to put as many miles between me and civilisation as I could.

I didn't want to be reminded of it. I hit the road and left the city behind and didn't stop until my palms bled.

Day 2 ~ Amelia

I had to know.

Staring at the blurred outline of myself in the morgue fridge doors, I hesitated. I could feel the palms on both my hands grow sweaty against the cool chrome.

The morgue itself did not appear to look any different than any of the other white washed, sanitary rooms. Except for the slab behind me and a row of handles that once opened would reveal a truth I wasn't certain I was ready for.

I wondered which of the outcomes would give me the most grief. If I opened the door and found nothing there I would know that I'd been forsaken. But if I opened the door to find frozen corpses resting in body bags did that mean only the dead were meant to be left behind? Was I meant to be dead, too?

It did not make sense to linger. Although almost paralysed with the fear of what either outcome would be, I held my breath and gripped the handle tightly with sweaty hands that almost slipped right off.

The lump in my throat threatened to choke me. All I knew was the dragging sensation of my stomach as it dropped. I almost wished that I'd stayed upstairs. On the empty wards where I was none the wiser. Where my ignorance was truly bliss.

There, the shape of what I knew to be a corpse laid motionless inside the bag. Unable to take my eyes from it, I could feel the bile and panic rise in my chest. My mouth filled with saliva and my head spun with a thousand reasons why I should run.

I promptly turned on my heels and vomited into the paper bin by the clinical desk. The contents of my stomach being nothing but water in the last 24 hours. There was nothing but yellow bile in my retch, but I couldn't stop myself. My body ached to purge what I had just seen.

What I knew to be true felt like a nightmare I couldn't wake from. I spat the bitter taste in my mouth out as I went to shove the trolley back where I couldn't look at it.

“Our Father, who art in heaven…” I whispered, never having had much faith in God, I wondered if the prayer would make a difference. "Hallowed be thy name..."

I recalled the prayer from memory. The damned thing etched on my brain from school where I'd been forced to recite it until the words bled on my tongue. Prayer seemed a little futile now, and I was angry with myself for reciting it.

Tears of desolation began to build at the futility of a life that had lead up to this. All those years being taught that the rules of society are absolute. We must pay our taxes and stay in our predetermined lanes. We must adhere to the morals expected of us and dress appropriately for the occasion or the weather. We must respect those above us even if they have little to no respect for us. One of the greatest lies we tell ourselves is that we will be happy if we have a good job and find a partner to share life with and buy a house to live in and drive a good reliable car and have children that meet every expectation once put upon us. Happiness is guaranteed if we can just obtain these things.

In my fury, I grabbed the fridge handle again and pulled out the trolley, a little more aggressively this time and without hesitation I pulled the zip down on the body bag to reveal the crimson and blue face of a young man who had sustained a fatal head injury. I knew it was wrong, but who was going to know? I looked at his peaceful face and countered that he had not been dead for very long. Only a matter of days. He had a look of complete serenity and had it not been for the color of his skin I might have thought him sleeping.

I didn't know his name. His job. If he was married or if he was gay or straight or neither. I didn't know his favorite color or what he liked to do on the weekend. I didn't know a damn thing about him other than he was still here. Where all others had vanished, he and I... we remained. And in that, I found the most soul crushing realisation that I, too, wished that I was dead.

When I put him away there was a sense of loss that I had not expected. A desire to crawl inside there and just fade away like every one else had.

"Rest easy, friend." I sighed, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

I hadn't left the hospital since I'd picked myself up off that cold, hard floor. I'd wandered the corridors and the wards, meandered down into the morgue fuelled by my own morbid curiosity. The dead were still here. And without knowing what that truly meant, I ran until I was out on the eerily empty street.

And it hit me for the first time. Truly. I was alone.

Day 399 ~ Jake

She gave me a room to sleep in. A small, low beamed space that was at the end of the hallway. Served with only a set of pine drawers and a bunk with only the lower bed made up with floral sheets and a knitted comforter. She'd even taken the liberty of leaving me a few clean towels on the end of the bed. Perhaps an insignificant gesture on her part, but to me I almost broke down in grateful tears.

There is no greater sorrow than the memory of love, and the knowledge that it is gone forever. But I felt some warmth walking into that room, despite the pain of climbing the stairs and not really knowing how to properly thank her without spooking her.

"This is the kids room." She explained, "I would have made up the main guest room, but I don't rate the mattress in there. This ones a single, but much softer. I hope it's alright for you. You can use it for as long as you need to."

She lingered in the doorway. I wanted so much to tell her that I had no intention of leaving. That I wasn't a threat to her nor did I intend on ever doing anything that might cause her harm. But the words meant nothing if she wouldn't receive them.

"Thankyou." I managed, "You've been very...hospitable."

Her chin wobbled a little before she smiled. As if the very action of it was a duty to placate me. She would keep me at arms length. And although I didn't blame her, I was curious about her. I couldn't help it.

I'd been out there, suffering. And she'd been here the whole time, not only surviving but thriving.

"Do you need anything else?" She asked, sounding eager to be gone.

I shook my head. "No, this is more than enough."

"Well then, I'll bid you goodnight." She replied sweetly, raising one last smile before she closed the door.

It felt like the entire cabin was a cave of wonders I'd yet to explore. As I slumped down onto the mattress, I noticed a toy chest at the side of the drawers with the name Charlie carved in an ornate font on the top. There were a few children's books piled on top, old and worn spines where they had been lovingly read over and over with a few of them with covers missing entirely.

I was a stranger here. These were her memories, her ties to those who had disappeared. I was a passenger, hitching a ride on everything she had built here to keep alive. If her resources couldn't stretch to accommodate me, it stood to reason that she would want me gone.

A part of me ached to stay, still. The thought of another night alone filled me with a dread I hadn't yet begun to process. If I couldn't go home, then where did I belong? Not here. Not out there, either.

I was thinking about Josh again as I closed my eyes. His infectious, toothy grin and his unflappable optimism. I wanted so much to hear his voice and have him feed me some wisdom he'd learned as he so often did on his spiritual journey. Sometimes I'd agree wholeheartedly, other times I'd roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of the thought but now it all seemed so trivial.

Josh would have been far better suited to being left behind. He'd have found some comfort in the event, no matter how deeply traumatised it had left him. I was the darker entity of our whole, a little more tortured than he was. What a cruel twist of fate to be the one to walk the earth where he had once been. There was no doubt in my mind that Amelia would have felt much safer in Josh's company than whatever I had to offer.

I fell asleep with his voice in my head. For the first time, I managed to drift away without too much of a fight. The closest thing to comfortable I'd been in so long, eventually I slipped into a sleep so deep not even dreams could penetrate.

Her screams did, though. The silence of the night broken by the terrible sounds of a banshee crying out into the darkness. I hit my head on the top bunk as I rose, cursing myself and forgetting for a moment precisely where I was.

Pain ripped through me as I shot out of the bed, tearing down the hallway towards the door at the top of the stairs. With one arm wrapped around my chest, the other lingering on the door handle. I could hear her screaming and crying, her voice unearthly and afraid.

If I had left her to her nightmares, she would have greeted me in the morning knowing that I'd heard her. If I went to give her comfort, would she reject me in fear that I would hurt her? Either way I was damned to my need to respond. I couldn't hear those sounds and not go to her.

"Amelia?" I hedged inside quietly, only to find her thrashing in the bed sheets. "Amelia, wake up..."

She violently tore through me as I reached for her. My healing bones taking a pounding as I wrapped my arms around her body. The gentle hush seemed to break the spell. Although not enough to bring her to full awareness. She breathed heavily against my chest. Her hair drenched in sweat. I swept it back from her face, holding her as tightly as I could.

"I told you, everything's going to be alright." I soothed, letting her calm in my pained embrace. "I'm here, you're not alone anymore."

I was consciously aware that I wasn't dressed. My boxer shorts were enough to conceal the most intimate parts of me. But she was pressed against my bare torso, legs entwined. The darkness of the room shrouding any mounting humiliation in our position.

"It was just a bad dream."

I couldn't be certain if she was still lost to dreams, or awakening as I held her. She stayed so still, like she was locked in a purgatory I couldn't follow her into. All I could do was hold her and pray that she didn't hate me for it.

She was wearing nothing but an old t-shirt and underwear. Her hair all knotted and damp. I could feel the erratic thrum of her heart in each breath she took. My own fluttering uncontrollably at the close proximity of our bodies. She felt like velvet against my skin. All warm and soft, tender to the touch. Eventually, her breathing evened out. And I was gripped with a genuine fear that I'd have to let her go.

"Ever since it happened, I've had nightmares." She said quietly, not daring to move. "Like I've forgotten something and my mind wants so badly for me to remember it but I refuse."

Here in the darkness she could lie in my arms and speak her truth. I would dwell in darkness if it meant that I could keep her. She made no attempt to lift her head, staying firm against me as she let me know my presence was wanted.

"What did you see?" I asked, caressing her with my free hand, sweeping it over her warm cheek.

"Nothing but white." She replied, allowing me to covet her in the only way I knew how. "And that's all I see in my dreams. I'm always back there, blind."

She would speak to me as if I were a stranger in the cold light of day, but here in the middle of the night I knew this was where we truly existed. Every single real thing I had ever known had happened at night. She unravelled in my arms, whether she wanted to or not. Her vulnerability I held like fine china, stroking the side of her face as she continued to calm.

"I saw it too." I replied, trying to keep myself together in the no mans land of how good it felt to hold her and the pain shooting through every single nerve ending.

There was a shaft of moonlight spilling in through the gap in the curtains. A silver shard, like a sword to split the room in half. It illuminated a part of her as she was curled against me. Dark and almost blue, I could see our bodies intertwined. Nothing had ever felt more necessary.

"It never goes away..." She began sobbing, her body vibrating against mine. "It's always there, like it still wants me..."

I searched within myself for a reason to put her aside. To comfort her from further away now that she was settled. But she curled her fingers around my hair, dragging it down against her tear stained cheek.

"Amelia, I..."

What could I say? That I wanted to hold her until dawn, until she was ready for me to slip away? That it had been so long since anyone had touched me that I just wanted to lay there with her and drink her in?

I couldn't say any of it. The moon drifted in and I was beholden to it. To her. To the way she had saved me, not just from the wreck. But from the ruin of a loneliness that was on the fringes of ending me.

Instead I kept my thoughts to myself, giving her only what I thought she could tolerate.

"I'll stay with you, until you tell me to go."

She looked so weary in the light of the moon. Rising from my chest, leaving me cold where she had kept her warmth. Staring at me in the darkness, the whites of her eyes twinkling as she regarded me.

"You would do that. For me?" She asked, the veil between us somewhat torn.

"Of course." I replied, "Whatever you need."

I thought, perhaps, that she would tell me to go. I could see the struggle in her lip as bit it nervously, her chin doing that little wobble that betrayed her desire to smile. I almost cupped it between my thumb and index finger, in a move that felt so natural and yet I had to stop myself.

She propped herself up on the pillow beside me, untangling herself from me. Taking her essence. She remained close, but not enough for me to feel her heartbeat anymore. But I didn't mind. I could see her face in the blue moonlight. Finally it was serene.

"I don't want you to stay if it isn't what you want." She said, her flushed cheek resting in the palm of her hand.

"Are we talking about here in your bed, or are we talking about something else?" I needed the clarification.

She considered it for a moment. Her gaze lowered, she pulled the blanket up towards her chin and offered me some to cover myself.

"Here. In my bed." She replied softly.

I took the blanket that was offered and leaned back into the pillow behind me, propped up against iron bed rails. I covered my lower body, but kept my top half exposed. Rubbing my hand across my ribcage to ease the strain.

"I don't think I could move right now, even if I wanted to." I tried to jest, realising that I'd sounded entirely the opposite to how I truly felt. "Not that I want to... I'm where I want to be. I promise."

Day 399 ~ Amelia

So many nights my screams had rung out unheard. My nightmares gone uncomforted. I would always wake with the same feeling that I couldn't quite put my finger on. That something was trying to make me remember it. And I would always be fighting against it. My bed sheets a mess, tangled in them and my hair pressed to my forehead feeling as if I'd been completely outside of my body.

I wanted so badly for him to remain indifferent to me. But how could I deny this man when he had come to me like that? Without a care for himself. Gathering my shivering body into his arms and holding me when all the other nights I'd fought this battle alone.

He felt so good. Relief surged through my veins, rushing out from the space between my chest and my stomach in waves of heat and yearning for another human's touch. It made me want to stay right there in the crook of his arm, where his hair rested against his shoulders. It made me want to tell him how I felt.

But most of all it made me want him to stay so completely that I found myself relenting to him. Taking a piece of his hair and moving it through my fingers, anything to keep his body attached to mine.

But not if he didn't want it, too. Not if this was just some misplaced sense of duty to go running to my aid.

"I don't want you to stay if it isn't what you want." I told him, dragging myself away from him just enough to gauge his reaction.

He would stay, though. In my bed. In the cabin. I dared to look into his face as the moon shone in through the window. Aspects of it becoming familiar to me in ways that still gripped me in fear.

"I'm where I want to be, I promise." He said, his jaw flexing as he prepared for my response.

"Me too." I replied, turning to catch the first flurries of snow as it danced across the crack in the curtain.

Part Three

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