#choose love help refugees

[xtruss]

[charitabledirection]

Liam Payne painting's of One Direction featured on a t-shirt on sale in support of Choose Love

[filosofablogger]

Good People Doing Good Things -- Choose Love (and others)

It seems that every December there is at least one week that I am at a loss for doing a ‘good people’ post, not because I can’t find any ‘good people’, but likely because there is just so much to do and my mind is easily boggled these days.  I rarely do a redux of a good people post, for there are plenty of good people out there and I hope to shine a light on as many as I can, but at least once…

[llycaons]

jc giving wwx a lecture on parenting is a BIT RICH

[thesummerestsolstice]

So I think one thing that really drives Feanor is his grief– he looses Miriel, and he very clearly never recovers from that. There's the pain of loosing a parent and the added layer of Miriel's death being, on some level, a choice to leave Feanor. You can't tell me he didn't internalize the idea that he wasn't good enough for his mother to stay ay least a little. And I can't help but imagine that most of Valinor really wasn't helpful. There was probably a lot of vague sympathy with no real understanding of the situation, people who in theory thought Feanor had the right to grieve but reacted pretty badly to any actual displays of grief, and some people who insisted that Miriel chose to stay dead, Finwe and Indis were happily married, and therefore, Feanor shouldn't feel sad about it anymore. Even for those with more understanding of grief, it's still a really complicated situation. But you know who would understand Feanor?

Elrond. And the reason is Elros and Arwen– Elrond knows what it's like when someone you love dearly chooses to leave you, essentially forever, not because they don't care about you or because you weren't good enough, but because they have to make the best choice for themselves. And how you can respect that choice, and be glad that they did what they needed to, but still grieve them and the relationship you had with them. He understands those complicated feelings and how to process them in a healthy and non-destructive way.

And I'm losing my mind over this because Feanor is the one who starts the kinslayings and the cycle of violence between elves, and Elrond is the end result of all that violence; born to two refugees and raised largely by Feanor's sons. But despite all that, he's good and kind and able to focus on healing instead of pain. He ends the violence and makes a sanctuary where everyone is welcome. And he's able to do what Feanor never could, and not be consumed by his pain. And that means so much.

[adragonsfriend]

Padme was not a Witness

I will never join the “Padmé was stupid to go to Mustafar” parade—she had valid reason to believe in the possibility of Anakin’s redemption—but there’s something awful in the fact that she didn’t have to witness either of his massacres.

Obi-Wan and Yoda walk past the bodies of their people—of their people’s children. Bail Organa goes to the temple and sees a kid get shot down trying to escape (more clones than Anakin, but still).

Padme hears about the second massacre after sitting in her apartment while the Temple was on fire. She’s told about them in vague terms. “I killed them like animals,” “he killed younglings,” She has a touch of denial when she goes to Mustafar partly because of her belief in Anakin, but partly because—I think—the Tuskan Massacre was never fully real to her. She understands it intellectually of course, but violence on that scale is difficult to conceptualise without seeing it, especially if it’s easier to just let it go. If she’d seen the bodies? Or seen Anakin kill them? She watched that one refugee kid die slowly, not at all violently, when she was working with the refugee organisation, and it affected her for the rest of her life. It is not a lack of caring on Padmé’s part that’s the problem.

Imagine being Obi-Wan listening to Padme saying “there’s still good in him,” after walking through the Temple, seeing the lightsaber marks on knights and children alike—not even to mention seeing her get strangled. It sounds not only wild, but honestly deeply offensive on more levels than one (besides the obvious issues it’s another, “train the boy,” prioritise Anakin over everything moment, except this time Obi-wan’s entire world has been torn apart, rather than just losing his Master)

If Padmé had actually been a witness to Anakin’s violence? If it was made present and visceral to her?

I think her opinions and her actions would’ve been different.

Thematically, it is crucial that when Luke goes to the second Death Star, he is under no illusions about who Anakin is or what he’s done, and in his most desperate moment he chooses to ask Anakin for help anyway. Padmé goes to him still a bit in denial, still a bit convinced things can return to how they once were. When she starts to push at the illusion, Anakin accuses her of betraying him and strangles her to shut her up, attempting to preserve the illusion (the difference between Anakin’s state at the time of his confrontations with Padmé and Luke is a whole other, very important topic). In part, her illusion allows Anakin to believe he can preserve the past (to be clear—he is the only one responsible for the choice to strangle her; Padme being imperfect is not an excuse for domestic abuse).

Side note, but if anyone is not sufficiently freaked out by Anakin strangling Padmé, it's important to know that strangulation is one of the flashing red warnings that physical abuse is doing to turn deadly, very, very quickly.

Luke’s complete and honest knowledge of Anakin’s worst self means there is nothing for Anakin to lose except his son, exactly as he is. No illusions, no wonderful past, not even any good memories together. Just his son.

To me, that’s one of several reasons (both thematic and logistical) why Padmé’s plea fails where Luke’s succeeds. None of those reasons has anything to do with her being stupid to go in the first place.

(There are some wonderful fanfics out there that show Padmé actually making her disapproval about the Tuskan massacre—both despite and because of her love—actively known during their marriage, and I think that interpretation of her is a stronger character than ROTS gives us, and more in line with what we’re shown in the first movie)

[aynavaano]

Heaven is here

Old Crosshair x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 4.5k

Summary:

You live on Pabu together with your husband Crosshair, it’s been many years since you turned your back on the war in the galaxy and decided to build a peaceful life together on the Island. Don’t be deceived by the domestic fluff, this is filthy smut.

Notes:

Sooooo…I know you’re all waiting for my Old Hunter fic but what can I say, when this art dropped my hand slipped and here we are with over 4k Crosshair smut and fluff. There’s oral f recieving, unprotected sex, Crosshair is a tease as always. I don’t even know how to tag this, domestic kink? Wife kink ? Is it dubcon if he gives you more orgasms than you think you can take? Also Tech lives, because he does and I will die on that hill. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and for all my Hunter girlies (gn) don’t worry I have not one but two drafts ready to go over.

Even with the risk of another sea surge, you and Crosshair took on the challenge of rebuilding a house in Lower Pabu many years ago. Perched atop a substantial rock, it offered seclusion, tranquility, and an unparalleled view of the ocean—a retreat away from the lively upper streets, precisely what you both had wanted when you decided to move in together. With your own private beach cove accessible from the terrace, and ample space for a garden around, it was a dream, that would have been impossible to fulfill in bustling Upper Pabu. Despite the misconceptions perpetuated by others, over the countless years of marriage, your love and attraction for each other have not faded; instead, they have grown deeper and stronger with time. You love the peaceful life you built together, as a former Jedi you had your fair share of war time yourself and when you arrived here you never looked back. If you are not occupied with helping the refugees on the island heal from their traumas, you spend most days swimming, cooking, baking and tending to the garden.

Today is a quiet Benduday morning, the weather is wonderful like almost always here on the island and you're already up, allowing Crosshair to sleep in after a late-night fishing trip with his brothers.

After your usual reviving morning swim, you whirl through the house and refresh the guest room's sheets, and the blanket in Batchers basket, so Omega can stay overnight whenever she wants. Occasionally, also Hunter stays for a night or two, seeking respite for his heightened senses, when he gets too overwhelmed or just wants to spend a quiet evening with Crosshair.

Preparations for the weekly family dinner, a tradition that you hold dearly since many years and rotate with Phee and Wrecker's partner, are well underway. Wrecker's favorite cookies bake in the oven, Techs favored wine is already in the fridge and the fully opened expansive glass doors, leading to the terrace and garden, invite in a refreshing ocean breeze, accompanied by your favorite tunes—a perfect start to the day, just how you like it.

With Crosshair seemingly still asleep, you choose to whip up his favorite pancakes for breakfast, relishing in the soft flow of the morning. As you gather all the ingredients und cut up the first Jogan fruits of the season, from your garden, you can't help but smile, grateful for the bliss of this idyllic day. You often spend time with the others but family dinner days are the best because everyone makes an effort to be there, even Echo comes by when he’s around and it’s always chaotic and fun. You decide to make some juice, a platter of fruit and finish up the pancakes before you go wake your husband, humming along and dancing around as you swirl through the big open kitchen.

*************

As the sun ascends higher in the sky, its warm rays peek through the bedroom curtains, gently nudging Crosshair from his slumber. Stretching lazily, he finds himself alone in bed, the absence of your warmth prompting him to go look for you. When he realizes the delicious aroma of fresh fruit and cookies fills the air, teasing his senses and drawing him downstairs, he already knows where to find you.

The last days were unusually hot even for Pabu, so he opts for a pair of lightweight black linen pants and skips a shirt for now as he makes his way down to the lower floor of your home. Passing by the guest room, he notices the neatly made bed and fresh sheets, a display of your thoughtfulness towards his siblings, who occasionally like to stay over. That you care for them as much as he does is something he always deeply loved about you.

Arriving down in the main living area with the big open kitchen, that you wanted and he was happy to build for you, he's greeted by the sight of you, happily moving through the space in one of his shirts, loosely cascading around your curves. Your hair, still slightly damp from the morning swim and wavy from the salt water adds to your radiant aura as you hum along to the melody of your favorite song. The scene before him fills him with a profound sense of contentment and he pauses, taking a moment to soak in the beauty of the moment, grateful for the life you've built together. It's a scene he never imagined could be his reality, and he still finds himself savoring every moment of it, cherishing the warmth and comfort of home in your loving presence.

************

As you begin to mix the batter, the vibrant aroma of baked goods and fresh garden fruits wafts through the air, filling the kitchen with a delightful scent. The table on the terrace is already set with two big glasses of fresh juice and an assortment of fruits harvested from your garden, ready to complement the morning meal.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps on the stairs interrupts your daydreaming, and you glance up to see Crosshair descending.

His distinguished grey locks cascade in gentle waves, slightly tousled from a long night and his linen pants hang effortlessly low on his hips, accentuating his body in all the right places. Despite the passage of time, he remained as lean and sculpted as ever. After experimenting for a while and despite Echos half serious attempts to convince him a scomp link would be best, he opted for a detachable cybernetic hand covered with a skin like texture, some days he likes to cover it with a glove and some days he prefers to not wear the attachment at all. The scars that once marked his skin have faded with the years, becoming mere whispers of the battles he's fought and the challenges he's overcome and the line of soft grey hair tracing a path down his belly never fails to draw your attention.

Gazing upon him, you're overcome with a surge of love and admiration for the man before you. Despite the inevitable march of age, he still exudes an undeniable beauty and sexiness and the effect he has on you only seems to deepen with time.

He leans against the dining table, a soft smile gracing his lips as he watches you dance around the kitchen, humming along to the lyrics of the song.

"You're like a dream," he says, his voice filled with admiration.

You glance over at him, a playful twinkle in your eye.

"Join me," you invite him, extending your hand.

With a chuckle, he shakes his head. "I'd rather watch you dance. You're mesmerizing."

As the song fills the air, you swirl around getting the cookies out of the oven, your movements perfectly synchronized with the music.

Crosshair's gaze never leaves you, his admiration visible in every glance. He knows that moments like these, watching you dance with such joy and abandon, are something truly special.

“…hmm…mhh…heaven is here if you want it…mhh..”

As the song reaches its peak, you sing along with passion, your voice intertwining with the singers.

"…all gilded and golden, yes, I'm your girl…Hell, if it glitters I'm going…," you sing, your voice ringing clear and true.

Crosshair's smile widens, his heart swelling with love and pride as he watches you, his partner, his wife, embracing life with unbridled enthusiasm and determination despite all you’ve been through.

"…hmm…with my gun in my hand, you know I always get my man..." you hum.

With a gentle smile, he approaches you, enveloping you in a tender embrace from behind before pressing his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. His head rests against yours as he inhales deeply, savoring the comforting scent that surrounds you both.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

You dip your finger in the pancake batter and offer him a taste, letting him lick it from your fingers with a wide grin.

"Mm, Jogan pancakes…my favorite…you spoil me" he remarks with a smile, clearly enjoying the indulgent treat.

"They just started ripening in the garden, I picked the first ones this morning", you add watching as he savors the flavor.

“Let me help you, what can I do?”

"No, no. Go sit on the terrace, my love. I'll bring the pancakes and fresh caff in just a few minutes. Enjoy the sun before it gets too hot outside."

With a final lingering kiss, he reluctantly releases you and makes his way out onto the terrace, the sunlight casting a warm glow upon his features as he steps out, greeted by the inviting sight of the table already adorned with freshly squeezed juice and an array of meticulously cut fruits. The cushions in the lounge area are all arranged with care, and the blankets neatly folded. He flops down onto one of the big cushions, contentment washing over him as he takes in the salty breeze.

Through the open floor to ceiling terrace windows, he watches you move happily around the kitchen, effortlessly stacking the pancakes onto a large plate. The love he feels for you swells within him, a profound gratitude for the care and affection you shower upon him and his family and it’s not something you feel obliged to do but it actually makes you happy. It's a feeling he never grows accustomed to, despite all the years, he’s sometimes still in disbelief that he could be so blessed.

But this morning, there's a special glow about you, an aura of warmth and love that envelops everything you do, and he feels his cock growing hard in his pants watching you. As you reach up to retrieve the caff from the upper shelves, the hem of your shirt, his shirt, rides up, revealing a glimpse of your beautiful soft ass and he inhales sharply when he realizes you're wearing absolutely nothing underneath.

With each movement you make, each delicate gesture, he feels a surge of desire building within him. Unable to resist any longer, he begins palming himself through his pants, his arousal growing as he gives in to the intoxicating effect you have on him.

*************

The pancakes are done, each one perfectly cooked and stacked high on a nice plate. You pour two cups of freshly brewed caff, adding a drop of sweet syrup and a splash of blue milk to your own before gathering everything up and making your way out onto the terrace. As you step outside, you find Crosshair basking in the sunlight, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his body, his gaze lingering on you with an unmistakable hunger and a prominent bulge evident in his pants, that really don’t do a good job in hiding it.

When he sees you approaching he gets up and with a few steps he is right before you wrapping one arm around you, immediately sliding under your shirt and squeezing your ass, taking the plate and cups from you with the other hand.

He sets them down on the table, before quickly indulging in a sip of his caff. Then, without hesitation, he scoops you up into his arms, his lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss as he lowers you both onto the cushions, pulling you on top of him so that you are straddling him.

"Sorry love, forgive me but breakfast will have to wait," he says with a desire burning in his eyes.

With a swift motion, he removes your shirt, leaving you completely exposed to the warming rays of the sun. His eyes roam over your naked form, appreciating every curve and contour as your hair falls in soft waves around your shoulders. His touch is gentle yet possessive as his hands explore your body, his desire undeniable in the hardness pressing against your stomach.

"Do you know how utterly perfect you are?" he murmurs, his voice laced with adoration. "Always so good to me, always caring, always loving."

Before you can respond, his lips find yours once more, his tongue pleading for access before before he starts trailing down your neck with hungry open mouthed kisses and soft bites that will surely leave a mark. Despite the many years, he still enjoys marking you as a silent affirmation of your bond.

Crosshair's touch ignites a fire within you as he begins to explore your body with his hands and lips. His kisses are soft and teasing, further trailing down from your neck to your chest where he cups your breasts, massaging them with skillful fingers. You gasp as he takes one of your nipples between his lips, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before giving it a gentle nip.

"Oh, Cross," you moan, your voice a breathy plea as his ministrations send waves of pleasure coursing through you.

He hums in response, his hands continuing their sensual assault on your body as he moves to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. His touch is both tender and demanding, each caress fueling your desire and you can already feel how wet you are getting.

"Stars, you're so beautiful…mmh…let me take care of you" he whispers, his voice husky with desire as he gazes up at you with a hunger that leaves you weak in the knees.

Before you can fully process his words, Crosshair swoops you up, effortlessly lifting you until you are straddling his face.

“Mmh…so fucking beautiful”

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his warm breath against your core, his tongue darting out to taste you.

"Fuck," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair, one hand reaching out, desperately searching for something to hold on to, as he begins to lick and suckle at your sensitive flesh. Each stroke of his tongue sends shivers of pleasure racing through your body, building the tension coiled tight within you.

“Stars…you’re so wet for me….let me make you feel good” he murmurs between two painfully slow licks up and down your folds, the vibration of his voice sending a jolt through your core.

"Please," you whimper, arching your back as Crosshair's tongue works its magic. "I need your fingers inside me…or your cock"

He lifts his head, glancing up at you from underneath, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. "Not yet, love," he says, his voice husky with desire. "I want to make you come first."

You moan in frustration, but his lips descend once more, and all coherent thoughts evaporate and your mind goes blank when he starts sucking on your clit.

Crosshair's movements are relentless, his tongue dancing over your clit with a practiced rhythm that leaves you teetering on the brink of release. He knows exactly how to push you to the edge, his touch driving you wild with need. His hands get a hold of your hips pushing you further down onto him.

"Fuck," you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair. "I'm so close."

"Come for me, and I promise I’ll fuck you however you want," he growls, the vibration of his voice sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. "Just let go and give me everything."

His words are the final push you needed, the dam of pleasure breaking as you tumble over the edge into bliss. Your back arches, a guttural cry escaping your lips as you ride out the waves of ecstasy crashing over you, your pussy clenching around nothing leaving you desperate to be filled.

Crosshair continues to devour you, his firm grip on your hips steadying you so you don’t fall over and his tongue working tirelessly to prolong your pleasure until you are a panting and whimpering mess in his arms. As you come down from your high, he gently lowers you back onto the cushions, his hands caressing your trembling body with infinite tenderness.

"You're incredible," he murmurs, wiping away the remnants of your juices on his face and pressing soft kisses against your skin as he holds you close. "I'm so lucky to have you."

You smile, your heart overflowing with love for the man who knows just how to make you feel alive. But your whole body thrums with need, your pussy throbbing with desire after his skilled tongue brought you to the brink of ecstasy, even as your mind reels from the intensity of your orgasm, the ache for his cock remains.

"Don’t forget you promised me something" you whisper.

"Tell me, darling," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper against your ear. "Tell me what you want."

Your breath catches in your throat as you struggle to form words amidst the lingering haze of your orgasm.

"I need you inside me," you manage to gasp, your voice thick with need. "I need you to fuck me, Crosshair. Please."

No matter if it starts with him being the one who’s horny, he always manages to make you the one begging to be fucked.

“How do you want me?” he asks, his fingers trailing down between your dripping folds, pressing against your entrance, desperately aching for his attention.

You can barely form coherent thoughts with him teasing you like this.

“Just…ahhh…just fuck me…please…Cross, fill me up”

With a satisfied grin, he scoops you up from the cushions, his strength and desire obvious as he bends you over the terrace railing. Your heart races as he positions you, your naked body exposed and vulnerable to his every whim. Gripping the railing for support, you arch your back, presenting yourself to him in all your glory.

"Stars, this IS the best view in whole Pabu" Crosshair groans, his voice thick with desire as he quickly sheds his pants and lines himself up with your dripping core, his tip deliciously pressing against you and a sharp slap landing on one of your cheeks.

"So fucking perfect."

You let out a lewd moan, when he slowly slides into you. His big cock stretching you in all the right ways until he is fully sheathed. It’s a feeling you can never get enough of.

You arch into him, making sure you take him as deep as possible. It feels incredibly good to finally get what you wanted, to be so full of him, but he doesn't move. Instead, he teases you, his fingers finding your clit, pinching and rubbing it in just the right way to send shivers down your spine.

"Please, Cross," you beg, your voice thick with need. "Move... I need you to move." the ache between your legs growing more furious with each passing moment.

He grins, enjoying the desperation in your voice, but he doesn't relent just yet. Instead, he slaps your ass, the sound muted by the waves crushing beneath you.

"Stars, I love it when you're so needy," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear as he bends over you.

You whimper in response and finally, he begins to move, slow and deliberate at first, savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him. But as your pleas grow louder, more desperate, he picks up the pace, thrusting into you with increasing urgency.

Your body starts trembling as he thrusts into you with relentless force. Each powerful stroke sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, driving you closer to the edge with every movement.

Crosshair's hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your movements as he pounds into you with primal need. "That's it, baby," he grunts, his voice ragged with lust. "Take me. Take all of me."

Your senses reel as pleasure consumes you, the rhythm of his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Your body responds eagerly, meeting his every stroke with unrestrained enthusiasm as you surrender yourself to him completely.

"Oh, fuck, Crosshair," you cry out, your voice a symphony of pleasure as he drives you to the brink once more. "I’m close, don’t stop."

He doesn't hesitate to comply, his thrusts becoming even more forceful as he drives you towards another mind-shattering orgasm. With each powerful stroke, you feel yourself teetering on the edge, the pleasure building to a fever pitch as you chase release.

And when it finally crashes over you, it's like a tidal wave of pleasure, washing over you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. But even as you come apart in his grip, Crosshair shows no signs of slowing down, mercilessly fucking you through your high.

“Cross… slow down, it….it’s too much.. please” you whimper, your voice barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin and the waves crash on the rocks beneath you.

But he's unrelenting, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounds into you with a hunger that borders on desperation.

“No love, I want you to give me another one, I know you can do it” he growls, his words laced with desire as he continues to drive you toward another peak of pleasure.

With each powerful thrust, he pushes you closer to the edge, his hands roaming over your body as he praises you.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he grunts, his voice rough with lust. "You're doing so good for me."

His words send a thrill of excitement coursing through you, spurring you on to new heights of ecstasy.

He punctuates his praise with sharp slaps to your ass, the sting mingling with the pleasure to create a sensation that leaves you dizzy with desire.

"I know you like that…" he groans, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he continues to pound into you. "… my fucking beautiful wife, taking me so well."

You can only moan in response, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as he drives you relentlessly toward another orgasm.

“Now come for me, I… I want to feel this beautiful pussy of yours…clenching around my cock”

He watches you with hungry eyes, his own release growing closer with each passing moment, his thrust becoming sloppy and his cock tightening up even more.

“Let me make you come undone," he urges, his voice a husky growl as he thrusts into, lifting your hips, slightly changing the angle to pound against your most sensitive spot.

With his encouragement, you let go, your body wracked with pleasure as you tumble over the edge once more. And when you come, when that tension in your core snaps, your mind goes completely blank and all sounds fade into the distance. This state of mind is something you only reached in your active days, mid battle, when you had to center yourself in the force and with him. If it’s possible to become one with the force, this is how it has to feel.

Crosshair follows you shortly after, his own climax ripping through him as he feels you clenching hard around his cock and he spills himself inside you, his orgasm mingling with yours in a symphony of passion. You collapse against the railing, spent, sated and panting, your mind blissfully blank as you bask in the last waves washing over you and the afterglow of your lovemaking begins to settle in. Luckily he is holding you steady against him, as your shaking legs begin failing to hold you up.

Together, you hear the waves crashing on the rocks below, the sound a soothing backdrop. In that moment, with Crosshair's arms wrapped tightly around you, you feel complete, your body humming with satisfaction as you revel in the pleasure of being thoroughly and completely ravished by the man you love.

His touch is tender as he lowers you back onto the cushions, your legs still unwilling to support your weight.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before he disappears into the house but it doesn’t take long until he returns with a damp towel in his hands to clean you up.

He lowers himself back down on the cushions beside you, his fingers trailing gently over your skin.

“I love you so much” he murmurs looking at you, and you could loose yourself in his eyes, so full of love and adoration for you. He wasn’t good with expressing his feelings when you met but his eyes always told the truth.

“I love you too Cross” you say, cupping his jaw and pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

“Let me clean you up and get our breakfast over here,” he whispers with a satisfied grin.

With a loving care that fills your heart to the brim, he wipes away the traces of his cum that is leaking from your core and trailing down your legs, his touch soothing and intimate.

Once he's satisfied that you're clean and comfortable, he turns his attention to the abandoned food, gathering up the plates of fruit and pancakes and cups of caff that were left forgotten in the throes of passion, bringing them over to where you lay on the cushions. With a soft smile playing at his lips, he begins to feed you.

"Here, darling," he murmurs, his voice soft and affectionate as he offers you a piece of pancake. "Let me take care of you."

You accept his offering eagerly, too blissed out to eat by yourself, savoring the taste of the sweet syrup and fluffy pastry as Crosshair feeds you with a tenderness that takes your breath away. With each bite and sip, you feel the life coming back into your body and the warmth of his love enveloping you, wrapping you in a cocoon of blissful contentment.

As you eat, you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking, the lingering effects of three mind shattering orgasms still thrumming through your veins. The terrace is bathed in sunlight, the gentle breeze carrying the salty scent of the ocean as it rustles through the air. In this moment, with your husband by your side, you feel completely and utterly at peace.

Together, you eat and laugh and as the last of the pancakes disappear and the caff is drained from your cups, you lean into Crosshair's embrace, savoring the feeling of his arms around you. In the quiet intimacy of your terrace, you revel in the simple joy of being together, your hearts beating as one in perfect harmony.

With a content sigh, you rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. In this moment, surrounded by his love and warmth, you know that there's nowhere else you'd rather be than here, in the arms of the man who completes you in every way imaginable.

[randomsuggesteduseername]

—I WANT IT ALL

—MASTERLIST

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

wc: 5.7k

contains: hurt Steve, fluff, mentions of death and the upside down, kissing

a/n: heyyy this is my first fic i hope i did it right and that you enjoy!!!

When the world split open a little over three months ago everything changed. You’re still not sure if for the better or worse, but what was sure was that you weren’t alone. The family you gained when you got dragged into this whole supernatural mess has stuck with you through thick and thin, not abandoning you when you needed them most.

For sure it’s an unconventional family, consisting of traumatised teenagers and some young adults you’ve only fleetingly seen in your high school days, yet you’ve never felt more loved and protected in your life, now when real danger is roaming on the ruined streets of Hawkins.

“Coast is clear for now.” Steve announces as he pulls the backpack full of weapons and necessities for his weekly patrol shift off his shoulders, though the weight of the whole situation still hangs heavy. Your eyes lift to instinctively give him a head to toe look to make sure he’s okay, it’s an instinct you’ve developed in time, one you’ll probably never get rid of. Robin and Eddie engage in some hushed small talk about something not so interesting at the kitchen island while they prepare some lunch packs for the refugees still inhabiting Hawkins High.

Three months ago, the high school became a safe space for anyone in need of shelter or medical attention. You’ve been one of the coordinators for the supplies which could still be saved from the ruined stores throughout the town, but as time went on, that responsibility stuck with you, now partnering with chief Hopper who handles the transport of boxes and boxes of food, clothes and medication being dropped off weekly by the military.

“How many do we have?” You ask Robin, holding the pen tightly in your hand, the tension ever present in your body. She ties the bag after adding a bottle of water before she starts counting while Eddie finishes the pack he’s working on. “About 36,” You nip your lip in thought, barely aware of Steve plopping onto the armchair in the living room, before you speak out.

“Okay, we need five more bags, and then Hopper can come and pick them up.” Moving into the living room, you grab your handy walkie talkie and rub a knuckle at your eye while you turn it on, calling out for Hopper, waiting in radio silence for a few moments before his voice comes through, confirming he’s going to come and pick them up.

The only people left in Hawkins are the ones who want to help the cause, some of the locals who are still too injured to leave, and a few military volunteers. That would sum up to about 100 people. It’s safe to say that the town, or what’s left of it, is deserted, but something has kept you all here, a sliver of hope that you’ll be able to stop this once and for all, and from the stories you’ve heard, the gang has done exactly just that three times before.

Putting the walkie talkie down, you decide to take a seat on the worn out couch in the living room, your head tilting to the right slightly as you gaze at Steve, reading his body language as you realise how tense and troubled he is too. “How was the patrol? More Dogs?” Questioning as you’re aware of the danger he faces each time he goes out, you know how brave he is for that and you can’t help but admire it. Having been a witness to his wounds when he and the rest of the older group emerged from the gate between worlds, he still chooses to go back out and face those creatures again.

“Yeah, the Bats seem to be distracted by the decoy we put up in the woods, but the Dogs are really cornering us lately.” You can see the worry in the line between his brows, your chest tight at the thought of smoothing out that crease with your fingertips, but you know that will have to wait for later. “Hop says something about a military weapon they’ll give us to fend off the dogs, so I hope it comes soon…”

Nodding, you look back at Robin and Eddie as they start moving the bags to the back door from where Hopper will take them and load them into the truck, you sigh before your eyes are on him again, lightly knocking your foot to his shin, trying to muster up your best comforting smile. “It’s going to be fine…Hopper always has these things under control.” You assure him as you trust that the chief will do his best to keep everyone safe, your small smile doesn’t fall as he nods curtly and lets his lips curl up a bit too.

—

Nancy and Jonathan came home soon after darkness fell over the town, they’ve been volunteering for the community, Nancy as a gunman and Jonathan occasionally staying on watch on the cameras placed all over the town. So dinner was shared between all of you which was somewhat of a rare occasion.

The canned vegetable stew didn’t take long to warm up, and despite the added salt it still tasted off, leaving a depressing tang in your mouth which was enough of a reminder of the current situation.

Sharing a look with Steve, you can see the need for some time off, some dark bags beginning to form under his eyes, his skin a bit more pale than usual. Wondering if all he needs is sleep, you lift your hand to your ear, tugging lightly on the lobe of your ear to signal to him silently that he can have your attention if he needs it.

The thing between you is as vague as it can get, not bothering to label it or try to make something of it other than a way to establish human contact and trying to get your mind off things, the last thing you’d need right now is a relationship. You pull your gaze back to the small bowl of soup in front of you once he mirrors the gesture, letting you know he’ll meet you after everyone else falls asleep.

The rest of the night is quiet, just some mindless chatter amongst all of you, and a game of Charades cut short once Eddie and Robin started bickering about how Eddie is not fit for the acting part at all.

Soon enough you’re moving up the stairs, pushing open the door to your shared bedroom, finding Robin already in it, her back turned towards the door as she lays on her side. You’re used to sharing a bed with her, so the sight is enough to let you know she’s about to fall asleep. Not wanting to disturb, you carefully lay down on your side of the bed and stare up at the dark ceiling, trying to not let the anxiety wave wash over you as you lock your fingers over your stomach while you patiently wait for the pattern knocking you know all too well.

And it comes just about thirty minutes later. Your eyes open again, though you were not even close to falling asleep. Padding to the door, you look back at Robin to make sure she’s still sleeping. You open the door and let your eyes take him in, tall and broad just as ever, though his shoulders are sagging a bit, no doubt feeling the tiredness creeping up on him.

Stepping out of the bedroom, you silently close the door behind you and follow Steve as he leads you to the bathroom. It might not be the best hangout spot, but at least you know no one will see you there.

That’s what you agreed on. Keeping it all a secret, involving yourself in a relationship is the last thing you need with the apocalypse already unfolding, so you two settled on secret meet ups in the downstairs bathroom, sometimes, if there’s less people in the house, even daring to hang out in the living room.

He lets you inside first before he follows and locks the door from the inside, leaning back to rest against the door while you hop onto the counter, lightly swinging your legs as you take a look at him. It always starts with keeping the distance and barely glancing at one another, though it never ends like this. You two are like magnets, especially when you’re alone and no one’s prying eyes are there to witness and judge.

“What’s going on, Steve.” You ask him softly to open up, tilting your head as you give him some time to think of an answer, biting your lip to suppress the urge to reach out for him. “I know you think you’re hiding it well….but I can see something’s not right.” At that, his gaze lifts, a tinge of something sad in his gaze, something which has your chest squeezing.

“I can’t do this anymore.” He murmurs, head leaning back to thump softly against the wooden door. “Can’t hide like I’m some kind of rat, stuck inside this cursed town.” You understand the feeling well enough, knowing that it seems like this will never end, that you’ll spend the rest of your days in this gloomy, dangerous version of the town you once loved.

You extend a hand towards him, watching the way he ponders that choice and ultimately decides to let his fingers thread between yours, squeezing while you pull him closer, letting him step between your legs as you settle your hands on his arms, rubbing soothingly while his palms press to the counter just shy of your bare thighs.

“You know how brave I think you are, right?” You smile softly, squeezing his biceps as he nods, his head hanging low, staring down at the white tiles on the floor. “We are going to figure out a plan…and we’ll execute it. Can’t believe in saying this, but it’s worked before, it has to do now too.” You can’t find anything better to tell him, not being sure of how much longer you’ll be able to hang on by this thinning thread.

Your hand travels up over his shoulder, fingers tracing his jaw before you tilt his head up to face you properly with a finger under his chin, your eyes getting lost in his momentarily like they always do. Taking a breath, you push some hair off his forehead, watching as he leans into the contact to let your fingers stay at the back of his head to play with his hair, soothing him as best as you can while feeling his arms wrap around your middle as he links his fingers behind your back.

Silently, he leans into your shoulder, placing his forehead there to rest, while you wrap your arms around him. It’s a silent tangle of limbs, your body warmed up by his touch and suddenly you mind seems to relax.

Letting out a satisfied sigh as his grip tightens on you, closing your eyes you let your nails trace softly over his back, feeling his body slacken a bit more, the tension leaving you both. This has become almost like a coping mechanism for both of you, a safe space to pretend like things aren’t the way they are, at least for a short amount of time.

His hands lay flat over the small of your back, index finger lightly pushing up under the hem of your shirt to brush above the waistband of your pajama pants, feeling the skin there as if it’s his guilty pleasure. Smiling to yourself as he tries his best to keep himself in check, knowing sometimes he’d like to pretend he’s not as needy as he really is, you coax him closer as your legs wrap around his waist and you tilt your head to the side, pressing some small, chaste kisses from the base of his shoulder to his neck, murmuring softly that won’t judge.

“Need anything, baby?” Asking in a soft tone, aware how much he likes to just be pampered since he always has to keep up a tough front and push through any of the hardships he faces daily, your words making a sound rumble deep within his chest which makes you smile. Pressing a longer kiss behind his ear, he turns his head to nudge his nose into your neck before you cup his cheeks, pulling his head back up to yours to watching his hooded eyes and slightly parted lips. So pink and inviting, you take a deep breath as you tear your gaze away from his mouth, focusing instead on how close he is to your face.

Whatever went on during these late night rendezvous sessions, you never crossed the line beyond comforting touches and soothing kisses. He never made a move for more, and neither did you, because the rules were pretty clear when you agreed on just using each other to relax.

—

Late nights with little to no sleep were an usual thing at this point. Sometimes you find it easier to lay awake than fight yourself to get some sleep, which is what you’re doing now, staring at the thin sliver of moonlight slipping through the thick curtains parted just a bit, as if it’s got you in a trance. You remember the nights spent back at home, finding the moonlight soothing, but now it seems to have the exact opposite effect.

The white, cold light makes you shudder, reminding you of the dangers lingering outside, ready to get you at any time. You shift uncomfortably, turning your back to Robin and the window, but you’d be a fool to think that it’s all it takes to finally settle down for the night.

Almost ten minutes later, when sleep is still a stranger, you decide to get up and take a short trip to the bathroom. Tiptoeing carefully to the one down the hall, your eyes focus on the door, a sudden wave of light blinding you as it opens, making you cover your eyes and stumble back against the wall behind. “Fuck..” You murmur and rub at your eyes before attempting to open them again, finding Steve in the doorway, a slightly sorry look in his eyes as he apologises and steps aside.

“Sorry, didn’t hear you coming.” You nod and take another look at him, his eyes bloodshot, his chest heaving a bit and his hair a mess, though not the kind you find cute when he comes downstairs for coffee in the morning. “What happened?” You prod carefully as you tilt your head to take a better look at his face, confirming to yourself that he looks like he’d been crying before you accidentally interrupted him.

It took you a while to coax it out of him once you pushed him back inside the bathroom and locked the door behind you, but ultimately you ended up hugging. His stuttered breathing seemed to instantly calm as well as his shaking body. There was something about you which had his brain turning off, leaving his mind worry-free. He grabbed at your shirt, let his fingers curl tightly into the cotton while he pulled you flush to him, his face hiding into the crook of your neck.

The position was slightly awkward due to the height difference but he didn’t seem to mind it, more so, he let out a soft sigh which had him melting even more into your arms. This thing…kept you going for months, it got you looking forward to something, a feeling which had been long gone for a while. So you both clung tightly to what you had, and decided to guard the secret, because this was not something romantical, nor something which friends do.

Blurring the line between the two was dangerous, yet you never seemed to care each time you ended up tangled into the bathroom, stroking soothingly at one another while you let silence surround you.

—

“Speak, Stevie.” You pout softly as he doesn’t seem to be in the mood to tell you what he needs, still wearing that frown which dents a line between his brows. You catch his gaze lingering on your mouth, wondering if he’s aware he’s doing that or not. You take a breath and follow his hand with your gaze as it leaves the small of your back, coming up to cover the side of your face and jaw, pinky finger resting on your neck while his thumb reaches up to rub your temple, the rest of his fingers curling gently at the back of your neck, anchoring his hand there.

You stare at him, unsure of what to say or even do, having never been put in this situation with him before. His eyes squeeze shut, seemingly having an inner battle with himself, his grip lightly tightening onto your face as you gasp softly, hands finding support on his chest, gripping at his shirt, fingers holding onto his collar.

You stay like that for what feels like hours, when in reality your hearts beat so fast time seems to slow down. “Steve?” You try again, wondering if your voice will break him out of the trance he’s been put in, his eyes opening again, pupils visibly swollen in size as he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing yours, having your heart lurching into your throat in surprise, you gaze nervously at him as he pulls back, letting his hand fall from your face which leaves behind a coldness which greets your skin.

“I’m sorry.” The words strike you momentarily, unsure of what’s going on, or even what he’s apologising for, all you know is that despite your promises to one another about what this would always be, you felt open to crossing the line the moment he showed just a bit of interest in doing so too. You hug yourself once he steps away from you, leaving you with an empty and cold feeling along your skin, watching as he leaves the bathroom with nothing but a brief glance over his shoulder.

—

Emergency meeting is not something you’d want to wake up to. Especially after a sleepless night.

Usually after meeting up with Steve you’d go back to bed and easily fall asleep until the morning, but this time you could barely lay still, thoughts of what this meant for you crossed your mind multiple times, your skin prickling with goosebumps each time you remembered how hot his breath felt over your lips, how intense his gaze had been when you locked eyes.

So now, getting dressed and trying to pull yourself together you realise it’s not an easy task.

You rush through the house, as do Eddie, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan. You briefly wonder where Steve is, not wanting to ask but luckily at some point Eddie mentions that Steve had to leave early to help Hopper at Hawkins High.

Once you’re dressed up, you slip your combat knife into the side of your boot, jumping into Eddie’s van along with the others. You sigh as you let your knee bounce slightly, wondering if something bad is happening.

The drive to the high school is not too long, though Eddie had to drive slower than usual in order to make as little noise as possible, but you don’t think that beast of a van can be anything remote to silent. Gazing out the window, you’re met with the familiar sight of split pavement oozing with black vines, the occasional group of bats swarming the area in search of some sort of food, no doubt searching for humans.

Getting out of the rusty van, you sigh as you follow the group inside, gathering in the gym where the meetings usually take place. Seeing some people already gathered, you let your eyes wander, guiltily searching for that pair of hazel eyes which has your heart skipping a beat. Maybe he snuck out of the house before everyone woke up in order to avoid having to talk to you or even see you.

But believing that would be entirely too self-centred when there could be a crisis on the way. Waving slightly at hopper, fully dressed in camo and carrying numerous weapons just as usual, you approach him with a small smile.

“Hey…is everything okay?” Asking to gauge his reaction, wondering if it’s really something to worry over or not. He squeezes your shoulder and assures you that there’s nothing to worry too much about. The breath you let out empties your lungs and relaxes you. Thanking him, you take a step back before the sound of familiar heavy boots scruffs across the floor, coming to a stop behind you.

You don’t have to turn around to see who it is when the deep rumble of a voice comes out, making your thoughts briefly fill with the images from the previous night.

Turning around, his eyes fall onto you for a brief moment before seems to pull himself together and talk to Hopper. Taking the sign, you bite your lip and decide to leave them to talk alone, heading back to the rest of the group.

Immediately being bombarded with questions about the meeting, you shrug, letting them know that it’s not something too bad, and that Hopper wouldn’t tell you exactly what this is about. Feeling a sort of tightness in your chest, you sigh, trying to get rid of it. Unsure why his indifference to you suddenly made you feel some sort of way it never did before.

Turning your attention to Hopper as he starts talking to the group of people who managed to join you into the gym, your brows furrow as he mentions needing some volunteers to go out in the woods, saying two of the people living here went missing after they allegedly left and couldn’t find their way back.

Taking a deep breath as you know how dangerous the forest can be, your eyes widen as Hopper mentions that the volunteers need to talk to Steve so they can be put on the list. Wondering why he wants to join the search party, you suspect it has something to do with what he said the night before, about not being able to stay hidden any longer, knowing that putting himself out there isn’t really a smart move.

Seeing a few men volunteering to go out, you toy with your fingers, taking a look at Steve again, though this time he’s already looking at you, his eyes snapping away as if he’s been caught red handed, you knowing you should talk to him about what almost happened the previous night.

“He’s insane…dingus needs to learn his place sometimes…” You hear Robin talking to Nancy behind you, clearly disapproving of Steve’s initiative as well as you do. You try to keep silent, continuing to listen to them as Nancy says that he’ll always want to help, being in his nature to protect.

Aware that’s true due to the stories the kids told you about him, how the great Steve fought the Dogs so effortlessly, and how he kept the upside down creatures at bay with only his infamous nail bat. You still feel worry gnawing at your stomach.

Not long after the meeting ends, Steve comes to greet the group, but he doesn’t get to as Robin immediately voices out her concern. “It’s a death sentence, dingus…think about it!” She presses again, tapping the side of his head with her fingers, trying to get her point across, though it seems to fall on deaf ears.

“She’s right.” You speak up, ignoring the thought that he might not care about what you think. “You’re already putting yourself in enough danger as it is with the patrols.” Your eyes settle onto him, seeing him briefly thinking about it before he lets out a deep breath.

“Those two people are still out there, we need to save as many of us as we can, so I’m not going to wait around for them to die.” He speaks, seemingly set on his choice, and you know whatever you’re going to say, it won’t be enough for him to give it up. Nodding in defeat, you watch as he lets you all know not to wait up for him since he’s probably going to come home late.

—

“Mrs. Click started staring at me as if I was the one eating in her class…” You laugh as Robin tells you about her time in high school since you didn’t have the luck to share any classes with her back then. “And guess who was munching on pringles, high as a kite, behind me.” You cover your mouth and laugh, whisper shouting at her.

“I didn’t know he smoked.” Slightly shocked to find out Steve used to smoke weed in high school, you shake your head and smile, toying with a loose thread on the sleeve of your sweater, your gaze lifting to Robin again as she asks about you and Steve. “Hm? What about it?”

Slightly nervous of her sudden curiosity, unsure what she’s going to want to ask next, you breathe in as she says that she keeps catching you staring at one another, wondering if you’ve really been that obvious about it.

Catching the suspicious look she gives you as you insist everything’s okay, even more than that, you shift on the couch as she says that it’s time for her to go to sleep, asking if you’re coming now too. “I don’t think so…I’ll stay up for a bit longer.” You murmur as you swallow down, shifting as you look out the window, the night outside turning everything black, making it hard for you to see.

Closing your eyes for a bit, you tell yourself you’ll go up soon, though the more you sink into the couch the harder you find it to keep track of your thoughts, soon enough your head lulling to the side, falling into a soft sleep. Barely managing to rest, your unconscious thoughts keep leading you back to him, as if he’s put some kind of spell on you which is holding your mind hostage.

It wouldn’t be so bad if you wouldn't have promised yourself that there will never be something between the two of you, that you’ll end it before you can let your feelings get the better of you. But now, being faced with the exact thing you feared you realise that you don’t want to stop seeing him. You can’t.

It’s strange, getting attached to someone you don’t even know that well, who occasionally gives you some attention, yet, the moment the front door opens, you jolt slightly, waking up as your head turns to the door to find Steve coming inside.

“Hey. Done with the search party?” Asking softly, trying not to scare him as you were waiting in the dark, his head nods as he lets out a pained breath before he bends down to pull off his boots. Standing up with a frown, taking in his stance, you wonder if he’s hurt, your worries being confirmed the moment he grunts and clutches his side as he stands up straight.

Rushing to him, you watch how his palm presses over the side of his waist, lightly hooking your hand around his elbow as you silently bring him to the bathroom. He trusts you, so he lets you guide him inside the bathroom, the bright bathroom light having him twitch slightly. “I’m okay, it’s not that bad.” He tries to sound reassuring, but the way he leans back against the counter and clutches it tightly might suggest otherwise. Helping him shuck off his bomber jacket, you let it fall on the floor, tucking some hair behind your ear as you grab the hem of his sweatshirt, pulling it up as your gaze falls into the bat bite mark against his ribs.

Some anger rises into your throat, wanting to break down and tell him that you were right to worry about him, but all you find yourself able to do now is tut gently and start searching for the first aid kit. Taking the red box out, you look for the antiseptic as you pour some on a clean rag. Hesitating for a moment as you take a look at him, you speak softly, giving his wrist a comforting squeeze.

“Stay still, please.” He nods, breaching for the wave of pain once you start cleaning him carefully. Thankfully the damage is not that bad, looking like the bat barely got to latch on, but the canine marks go pretty deep into his flesh. Whispering soft apologies from time to time, you breathe in and throw the rag into the sink once his skin and wounds are clean. Pulling out a bigger bandage to fit the twin puncture marks, you wrap his wound up, his voice coming out soft from above you.

“I went through worse…it’ll be fine.” What he means by worse you know pretty well, the scarred tissue along his sides, back and the clear mark along his neck are proof enough of what ‘worse’ means for him.

“Steve, shut up.” You mumble, not being very fond of the memory of patching him up, how raw and hurt he looked will always stick with you. Sighing as you take a step away from him, letting his sweatshirt fall back down, you gaze at him for a moment too long before you look at the floor.

“Did you wait up for me?” He questions as he seems to carry a sort of hopeful glint in his eyes that you did stay downstairs to see him get home safe. Feeling like you’ll embarrass yourself by saying yes, you shrug and mumble. “I- I guess I fell asleep.”

“Oh,” Watching him purse his lips, the silence settles between you as you wonder if bringing up what happened the other night is really a good idea. “It’s late..” He murmurs, wondering if he’s just trying to send you away, but you shake your head, lifting your gaze as you feel a sting crawling its way to your eyes, lifting your hand to tug on the lobe of your ear.

His eyes immediately clock onto the gesture and he does the same, reaching out for you as if he was waiting for you to initiate the contact he’s been needing so much too. Biting your lip, you wrap your arms around his waist, letting yourself grip his sweatshirt as his large hands splay over your back, rubbing soothingly as he lays his chin on your head, making your eyes close as he envelops you fully.

Taking a deep breath, you ponder the consequences of asking him about the near kiss you shared the previous night, keeping your face against his chest, as if it’ll protect you from facing the embarrassment of rejection, you breathe in and close your eyes.

“Last night….did you- did you want to kiss me?” You wait for an answer you’re afraid might not come, wondering if he’ll flee on you again. His grip tightens slightly on you, hands stilling over your back as he takes in a breath. You can hear the cogs turning in his head, wondering if this is your cue to step away from him and leave.

“If I did…would it be so bad?” Asking softly as your breath hitches, you dare to pull your head back from his chest, gazing up at him as you nip on your lip in thought. “No, I guess not.” Your fingers fiddle with the cotton of his sweatshirt as you nervously gaze up at him, your heart lurching in your throat as he cups the side of your face just like he did the other night, this time the touch doesn’t feel so fleeting.

Eyes twinkling as you stare up at him, following the way his gaze dips down to your lips again, making you press yourself closer for him, silently begging him to do it.

The first thing you feel is the way his hair tickles your forehead, followed by the bump of his nose into your cheek, making your eyes fall shut in anticipation before the plushness of his lips cover yours. Soft and warm, they move against yours as if he’s trying to get to know you better, his thumb soothing you with stroking motions over your cheekbone while he pulls back for a moment, smiling to himself as he finds your eyes still shut, leaning in to chase his lips.

His chuckle has you opening your eyes, a crimson blush spreading over your cheeks as he speaks, smiling lightly. “Greedy…” You open your mouth though it shuts again as you give his chest a soft shove, smiling too as he doesn’t waste much time, kissing you once again. Humming into it, your hands lift to the back of his neck, hooking them there to keep yourself upright, as if his kisses don’t make your legs turn to jelly.

Sensing you're in need of support, he wraps his arms around you, switching places as he hikes you up onto the kitchen counter, like you usually stay when you’re here together. Brushing his hand over your arm, he traces his fingertips down to your hand and laces your fingers together, resting your hands against your thigh as he lets his tongue be a bit bolder, licking a thin line over your bottom lip which has you letting out a soft, embarrassing sound.

Smiling into it, his lips part as he lets the kiss get deeper, humming softly as you arch and settle your arm along his shoulders, you tilt your head back as he pulls away to watch you. Biting your lip at the flush which lingers onto his cheeks, his eyes creasing lightly at the edges due to his smile, you hum and give his lips a soft peck, looking down at your locked hands.

Maybe these are not the best circumstances to start a relationship, maybe you’re supposed to push him away, but how can you subject yourself to this lonesome existence when you’re constantly in danger?

[isagrimorie]

People give Janeway guff about not giving Kazon replicators and transporters. Still, it's proven repeatedly that giving one Kazon faction an advantage over the other would be mixing it up in an internal war that would LITERALLY shift the balance of power.

Klingons at least know the technology they have engineers, even as it's becoming a dying breed over Warriors.

TLDR in Alliance Chakotay and Tuvok convinces Janeway that making an alliance with a Kazon faction is the way to go.

And so she does finally concede on this little experiment but with a lot of reservations going in: That once they leave the infighting will go on, and might actually have been worse.

Tuvok naively thinks it might help and bring about a Federation.

B'Elanna then pushes forward Harry's sarcastic comment about forming an alliance with Seska and then at the first sign of this, Chakotay balks.

And then Janeway says something that I feel is her guiding principle in dealing with hard decisions:

Janeway: "You can't have it both ways Commander. If you want to get in the mud with the Kazon you can't start complaining that you might get dirty."

Again, this is what I love about Janeway -- she gets flack for it but when Janeway makes a decision no one else wants to make it.

As I've mentioned in another post in tags: #right or wrong#i admire how janeway is always the one#who goes#the buck stops with me#she makes the hard choices on voyager#especially during debates#when the staff just goes around and around in circles#like in memorial where she starts just in the background#listening to the senior staff debate#from how janeway started in episode 2 of season 1#where she's presented with the horrific#sophie's choice of neelix dying because he has no lungs#and then subjecting another person to the same fate#to the (now boring debate about tuvix)#to this moment#to the moment on the memorial episode#she will take on that burden#and she will always stare at the hardest choice unflinchingly#because someone has to#as the 12th doctor once said#sometimes all your choices are bad ones#but you still have to choose#

In this episode, she allowed herself to be persuaded but she's not sold on it. But she's letting her crew run with it -- okay so we do this, but if we do this, we commit to it. And yet, at the first uncomfortable decisions... there's already balking. This was Janeway testing the waters if any other person on her senior staff could carry water about making the hard choices.

So far the ones who have stepped up were B'Elanna, Tom, and Neelix.

Anyway, I wish there was more fallout on the whole Kazon vs Trabe conflict because that was actually interesting.

But also Voyager had a Doctor Who problem -- if they meddle in the affairs of a spatial politik, they don't know the repercussions of their actions and just look at Living Witness and the reputation Voyager gained simply by doing a bit of a trade deal.

Voyager can help when they can, see: helping Brenari refugees escape the Devore. (Counterpoint).

But they can't and shouldn't really interfere with internal politics. They're not like DS9 where they can stay in one place and fix things permanently. They're just passing through.

This is also why I think she wasn't really considering Tuvok and Chakotay's thing during the Void episode where they raid another ship's resources. (Also, because after Ransom and Equinox, she knows what faltering in the Federation principles can do).

Crucially, she's also known both Chakotay and Tuvok enough that while she loves them -- Janeway knows neither men have the stomach for their proposals.

The Alliance episode was one example of that already.

Janeway, though, if she is pushed to make that commitment and there was absolutely NO way they can prevent raiding others-- Janeway would have committed to that action 110%. This is why I feel Janeway would actually come to a similar conclusion as Sisko in In the Pale Moonlight.

Especially, if she gets daily reports of Starfleet casualties. I have a feeling, there would be less kicking and screaming when Garak finally does his reveal.

Janeway has rules for a reason. She is fastidious about it. For a reason. Because once she commits to an action, it will take both hell and high water to take her off that course.

/edited

[ghostboneswrites2]

Hello! First of all I love your stories so much💖 and hope you're having an amazing day. I wanted to ask if you could write something with this, feel free to decline if not 😊

I have this idea of Daryl and the reader being a thing before the apocalypse, Merle hated his girl and left her closed in a place with loads of walkers around without D knowing(something similar to what happens to him in Atlanta) but she manages to escape and survive thanks to what D has taught her. The group at the prison helps her after finding her tiredly fighting some walkers close to there. D and M are in the woods and the scene of D's back comes and says that the reader was his saviour for staying with him even after that and that they were planning to escape and get married. They arrive at the prison and she punches M in the face and well says to D everything that happened. M gets to see how D gets around Reader and before leaving the prison says to reader to take care of his bro and "sacrifices" himself going to fight the governor, D and r found him already turned and they both cry, promising to take care of each other.

I love the detail here! Plz forgive me, this turned out way longer than I intended. Nearly 5k words! I hope I did your vision justice! It was getting pretty long so I had to cut and tweak some things but I tried make sure to include all your key details!

Separated

Summary: You and the Dixon brothers are on your way to Atlanta to find that refugee center you heard about on the radio before they stopped broadcasting. When your journey is interrupted and you and Merle get separated from Daryl, Merle impulsively leaves you trapped and stranded in fear Daryl would choose you over him if it came down to it. When you're reunited with your love, you face tragedy together.

Note: There are some time jumps here. They're labeled to hopefully avoid confusion. Also some canon dialogue <3 A lot of your backstory with the Dixons wasn't totally necessary but I was trying to create a ~vibe~

18+ MDNI || Warnings: profanity, TWD typical violence, canonically moral deficient character, death and dying, mentions of alcohol and pills

the way he cowers and shrinks away from Merle's walker makes me cry every time omg

Then:

        Things went south so fast. The three of you were traveling relatively trouble free. The guys could hunt, and Daryl had taught you a thing or two yourself, so food was never an issue. Finding water wasn't as hard as it would be later down the line. All the supplies left in homes and stores hadn't been completely ransacked yet. It was the beginning of the outbreak. With Merle's truck, Daryl's bike, some weapons and supplies, and the general survival skills you were learning from the two of them, fleeing to the city to find that refugee center had been as easy as something like that could get, until the water ran out.

        It should have been an easy pit stop. The town was small. Your grandma would have called it a 'blink of an eye' town, because when you passed towns so small on a trip they'd fly by in the blink of an eye. There was a general store right on the corner, so that was where you decided to start the search. Just some water, maybe first aide and booze. Who knew what you'd find? The truck was parked right outside the store. Daryl wanted a smoke. He said he'd meet you and Merle inside. Then the growls started. Daryl could hear them from a distance, so he knew it was a big herd. 

        None of you had had much trouble with the big groups of them yet. So far, maybe ten or fifteen at a time. You killed the ones that got too close and fled as fast as you could. No unnecessary risks, that was the rule. Merle always said if he died it would be from something cool like a police shootout or a bank robbery. He refused to go out the way those things took people out. Daryl always said he'd shoot himself before he let them get the chance to eat him alive or turn him. He'd never be a walking corpse. You? Daryl always said you were too pretty to die. You just said you were too much of a badass. 

        Daryl popped his head inside. There were only two freaks inside and they were easy enough to take down, so you and Merle were just looting by then. 

        "Incoming. We gotta head out." Daryl announced.

        "Just a second, baby brother. I'm lookin' for the whiskey." Merle said.

        "Ain't got time for that. I can hear 'em comin'." Daryl insisted. You zipped your bag up with everything you had found so far, including the water, and walked toward your broody boyfriend with a half smile.

        "There were exactly three waters left. How's that for good luck?" You said to him.

        "Why'd'ya think I keep ya 'round? You're my good luck charm." He winked before slapping the window to get Merle's attention. "C'mon, man! No unnecessary risks!" 

        You slipped past Daryl and stepped outside, throwing your bag in the bed of the truck. You could hear the moans and groans. You turned your attention in the direction of the noise and you could see the heads peeking up over a hill. Your eyes grew wide as your heart sped up.

        "Uh... Guys? We gotta go!" You called out, not taking your eyes off the herd that was slowly coming into view. You had never seen so many of them.

        "Merle, come on!" Daryl was growing more aggravated and impatient as the seconds ticked by. 

         Daryl jogged back to the truck just as Merle was emerging from the little shop. With no sense of urgency in sight, Merle just looked over the bottle of Jack he had found as he casually strolled over to the driver's side. You scooted into the middle seat and Daryl hopped in the passenger spot and slammed his door shut.

        "Hurry up, man!" Daryl urged his brother. 

        Merle grumbled some smartass remark about being afraid of 'a few dead bodies' as he cranked the engine and hit the gas, speeding away.

Now

        You were so sore. So exhausted. So ready to just give in, but you couldn't. You refused to give in that easy. Someone told you once that you were too pretty to die, and you took that to heart. 

        You kept swinging your machete at them as they closed in on you. You were cornered between a building and a fence. What the hell were you supposed to do now? You had no idea, but you were determined to figure it out. You had gotten yourself out of worse situations.

Then

        "Gon' have to circle back somewhere to get back on the interstate." Daryl informed, looking at the map.

        "I don't need a second driver." Merle waved him off. You rolled your eyes. You were glad to be surviving something so scary with the man you loved, but the third wheel was getting hard to live with. 

        "Whatever, man." Daryl huffed, turning his attention to the window instead of paying his brother any mind.

        You kept your attention on the rearview mirror, relieved to see the herd fading away as the truck rolled forward. Those things really freaked you out, especially when they were all together like that, stumbling and bumping into each other carelessly.

        A mile or so down the road, you heard a loud pop and the engine started to sputter. "Ah, hell." Merle sighed. 

        "What?" Daryl asked, leaning forward to see his brother.

        "Gas is empty." He replied, looking down at the dash.

        "Are you kiddin' me?" Daryl asked incredulously. "Ya didn't think to check before?"

        "I did check, but I thought we'd be back on the interstate by now. Plenty o' cars to siphon a li'l fuel from back there." Merle defended. 

        "Hate to raise the stakes even higher here," you interrupted. "But, that herd is gonna be catching up soon, so we need to figure something out."

        Merle shot you a sideways glance. If it was up to him he would have just left you back home and fled with his brother, but Daryl insisted on picking you up. Now, he couldn't even hop on his bike with his baby brother and sail away to safety because there wouldn't be room for you and Daryl would never agree. He wasn't the greatest brother, but he wouldn't leave Daryl behind either.

        "Wha's that?" Daryl suddenly asked, breaking the tense silence as the three of you considered your pressing circumstances.

        You both turned your attention to what the archer was pointing out. Just beyond the treeline was a small wooden structure. Some kind of shack. 

        "A house?" You wondered.

        "Nah. Shed or somethin'." Daryl figured.

        "Maybe we can hide there and let the freaks pass by. They're pretty stupid, right? Maybe they'll just keep going straight if we don't draw their attention." You suggested.

        "Won't even know we're there." Daryl agreed.

        "Well then let's quit the yappin' and get over there before they see us." Merle drawled as he pushed his door open. Daryl got out and offered you a hand while you stepped out of the truck. Your posh parents never liked him much, but they never saw what a gentlemen he could really be. You had cut ties with them long before the dead started roaming.

Now

        You were beginning to think maybe this was really the end. It really wasn't that many. Seven at the most. But you were just so tired. You lazily swung the blade into a skull and struggled to yank it out. You had climbed on top of a dumpster, so at least they couldn't reach you, but you were still trapped until you could get rid of them. You wondered how stupid it would be to take a quick nap. Surely one of them would reach you eventually. You decided against it.

Then

        Without any spoken agreement, the three of you grabbed any supplies you thought you'd need and jogged over to the dilapidated structure. It was vacant and smelled faintly of mildew and rotting wood.

        "It'll do." Merle sighed.

        "Do? This is a mansion compared to the truck." You remarked, stretching your body. You were stiff from so much sitting. 

        The three of you watched silently through the cracks in the door as the herd stumbled by with their swinging arms and dragging feet. The smell was something you couldn't get used to, and with so many of them, it was strong. You gagged quietly. Daryl rubbed a hand up and down your back when he noticed.

        The three of you really thought you were fine. You outsmarted the dead ones and soon you'd be on your way again. You had never been so wrong about anything before.

        Merle got a little too comfortable given the situation. He went and dug through his duffel for his whiskey. He had been drinking so much you wondered if his piss could get someone drunk. The entire time you'd been on the road with them, the man had managed to find liquor everywhere he went. There wasn't a single day he hadn't been drunk, and if there had been, you were sure he'd have a stash of pills to keep him feeling nice. You guessed you couldn't blame him. Shit was rough nowadays.

        When Merle found the bottle he dropped it and it shattered. After giving Merle a look that could kill, Daryl turned his attention back to the herd. A few of them were veering off. The sound had caught their attention. Only a few heard, but as they started walking toward the shed, more followed. 

        "Shit." You whispered. 

        "This place ain't gon' hold." Daryl added.

        "My Jack." Merle complained.

        "Hell with your booze, man." Daryl scoffed as some of the dead started to claw at the outside. "We gotta go."

        "Go  where, baby brother?" 

        "We could take down the few that are at the door and break for the truck."  You thought.

        "Nah, too many on the road. But we can run off that way." Daryl nodded toward the back of the shed.

        "Okay." You nodded, throwing your bag over your shoulders and readying your machete.

        Merle haphazardly hooked his duffel and cocked his pistol.

        "No guns. Too loud." Daryl reminded him.

        "Relax. It's a last resort." Daryl shrugged, tucking it unto his belt. With a nod to each other, you and Daryl kicked the door open and took down two walkers. Merle was right behind you.

Now

        Tires screeched from ahead. You looked up and saw a car. A woman and a man got out of the vehicle and rushed over, taking down the walkers with ease and precision. Gee, you thought. Bet it's nice to have someone that has your back. 

        The couple walked over to the dumpster and eyed you cautiously, glancing at each other. "You okay?" The man finally asked.

        "Could use an espresso." You quipped.

        "What's your name?" The woman inquired.

        "(Y/N)." 

        "I'm Maggie." She introduced. "This is Glenn."

Then

        Only using your energy on the ones closest, the three of you darted deeper into the woods. They followed, because they saw you and now they wanted you. 

        Only, there were more in the trees than you anticipated. Usually the woods were pretty clear save for a few stragglers here and there. These woods were not. You wondered why, but there was no time to guess. You just kept running.

        Eventually there were just too many. Daryl got pushed further and further away as more and more emerged from behind trees. When you realized you couldn't see him anymore you called for him.

        "Quiet girl! He can take care o' himself. You're drawin' more to us!" Merle hissed. You reluctantly obeyed, because you knew he was right. Daryl probably evaded them somewhere and would meet you both back at the truck.

        When the running began to take its toll and your chest started to burn, you put more of a focus on searching for somewhere to hide. To your advantage, there was an overgrown cabin not too far ahead. erle peered over his shoulder.

        "We're losin' em. Let's get inside an' wait 'em out. Daryl 'll meet us back at the truck when it passes." He strategized well for his inebriated state.

        "Okay." You breathed, just grateful for a chance to stop and rest.

Now

        "Need some help? Maggie asked, offering you a hand as you slid off the edge of the dumpster.

        "Thanks." 

        "You have a group?" Glenn wondered. Maggie gave him an unsure look. You noticed Glenn looked pretty beat up. You wondered what happened.

        "No." You said lowly. You did have people, but you were left behind. 

        "Well.." Glenn trailed off, looking to Maggie as if to silently ask what they should do with you.

        "You can come with us. Can't promise you can stay though." She spoke up.

Then

        The cabin had been vacant for a long time. Some of the old dusty furniture remained so you both sat down and just breathed. You handed him a water bottle and sipped on one for yourself while you waited. It felt like hours had gone by. It had grown dark out. Merle peeked out of the window. There were a bunch of them all around, but they had no idea the two of you were in there. It seemed like they lost their lead and just stopped, staggering around in the same spot. 

         "There's a lot of 'em, but they ain't payin' attention. I say we leave out the back an' sneak back toward the road." Merle suggested. You thought for a second. 

        "Yeah," you nodded. "Okay." 

        Just as you passed it by, Merle suddenly shoved you in a closet and shut it behind you.

        "Merle, what the fuck, man?" You complained, banging at the door. It wouldn't budge.

        "Quiet, now. Don't wanna draw in any unwanted attention." He taunted. You sighed.

        "Merle, c'mon this isn't funny."

        "'Fraid it ain't a joke, Darlin. Truck's outta gas an' my bike only carries two."

        Your heart sank.

        "Daryl isn't just gonna leave without me." You reminded.

        "He won't have a choice when I tell 'im 'bout how them dead ones took ya down." He mockingly lamented. "It was just terrible, ya know? They grabbed her. I couldn't pull'er away in time before they got to chompin'."

        "The hell, dude? Don't do this!" You begged, banging at the door again.

        "Look. Ya got your bag in there, got your weapon, got your wits. You'll figure it out." He reasoned.

        "Not if I'm trapped!" 

        "I'm sure you can kick that slab o' wood down if ya try hard enough." He was getting further away by the sounds of it. "Jus' try not to be too loud. Don't want 'em hearin' ya."

Now

        "I'd be grateful." You admitted. "I haven't had anywhere to rest in a while. I have some medicine here I'd be happy to share in exchange for a good night of rest."

        "Watcha got?" Maggie asked.

        "We actually came out her for medicine." Glenn added.

        "Some antibiotics, some Benadryl, some stuff for pain. Oh, and I found an EpiPen. I'm allergic to bees, so." 

        "Antibiotics is what we need." Maggie said.

        "Yeah, whatever you need. Thanks again."

        They still hit a few stores while you rested in their car. Maggie made sure to grab the keys just in case you tried anything, but you were too tired to try even if you wanted to. When they had found everything they thought they'd need for the prison, they drove you back. Rick and the others were apprehensive, with everything happening with Woodbury and recently losing one of their best fighters. Daryl was also their hunter, their tracker, and generally someone they all relied on.

        You explained to them that you were traveling with some people to Atlanta but they left you behind and you'd been on the move ever since. "I'd be glad to sleep outside if it makes you more comfortable." You said to Rick. "I can leave in the morning. I just really need somewhere to sleep."

        Rick studied you for an uncomfortably long time before he asked, "How many walkers have you killed?"

        "Walkers?" You asked. You'd never heard that term before.

        "The dead." He clarified.

        "Oh... I don't know, really. A lot."

        "How many people have you killed?"

        "None." You said honestly. "But there is one person I might beat to death if I ever see him again."

        "Why?" 

        "He left me stranded, surrounded by the dead."

The Next Morning

        Rick let you sleep in a separate cell block. He let you know you'd be locked in for a the night but that he'd come get you in the morning to talk. You didn't really care. You just wanted rest. 

        When he came and got you that morning you were offered a warm meal, which you gladly accepted. You made sure to give them the majority of your antibiotics as a show of gratitude. 

        Meanwhile, deep in the woods, two rednecks were hashing it out. Name calling, shoving, whatever it took to unleash all the pent up frustrations they had between each other.

        See, in all that time Daryl spent with Rick and their group, he began to find a side of himself that was suppressed with his brother around. The only person to ever make him believe he could be good was taken from him before they made it to the quarry. Merle, on the other hand, only represented everything that Daryl was trying to put behind him. Merle was capable of hurting good people or looking the other way instead of helping someone in danger. If only Daryl knew some of the things Merle had really done.

        "There was a baby!" Daryl defended as Merle laid into him for risking his own ass to save a family on a bridge.

        "Oh, otherwise ya woulda just left 'em to the biters." Merle retorted.

        "Man, I went back for ya. Ya weren't there. I didn't cut off your hand, neither. You did that. Way before they locked you up on that roof. You asked for it."

        "You know what's funny to me? Hmm? You and Sheriff Rick are like this now." Merle said, locking his two fingers together. "I bet you a penny and a fiddle o' gold you never told him that we were plannin' on robbin' that camp blind."

        "It didn't happen!" Daryl snapped. "And we woulda never had to if ya didn't let the truck run out o' gas! And my girlfriend wouldn't be dead!" Daryl's chest was heaving as his eyes stung, threatening to spill fresh tears at the thought of her. Merles eyes flashed something Daryl couldn't quite decipher.

        "It didn't happen 'cause I wasn't there to help you!"

        "When we were kids.. Who left who then, huh?" Daryl frowned.

        "What? Huh, is that why I lost my hand?" Merle rasped.

        "You lost your hand 'cause you're a simple-minded piece o' shit!" 

        "Yeah?!" Merle lost it. He grabbed Daryl by the shirt. "You don't know!"

        When Daryl fell to the ground, his shirt ripped down the back. Merle froze. His chest felt tight as he stared down at the gruesome scene left on Daryl's back from years of abuse at the hands of their father. "I -- I didn't know --"

        "Yeah, ya did." Daryl's voice cracked as he pushed himself to his feet. "That's why ya left. But (Y/N), she never left. She was always there, man. Always. She was the one who saved me. She protected me. Not you, man!" He wiped a tear as he took a breath between heated words. "We were gon' run away, gon' get the hell outta that town and get married, maybe start a family. I don't know, and I never will thanks to you!"

        He did blame his big brother for the loss of his love, but not in the way that he should have. He blamed Merle's clumsiness, carelessness, and negligence. He had no idea that Merle trapped and abandoned you.

Later

        Daryl went back home to the prison. Merle couldn't stand too watch him leave, so he followed. Guilt was starting to eat at him, gnawing away at his insides, mouthfuls at a time. He almost felt nauseous hearing about you and what Daryl had planned with you. He tried to imagine his battered baby brother in a nice little house with a wife and kids. Hell, he even tried to picture it for himself, but the image wasn't clear enough for it to seem possible. All either of them had ever known was violence and loneliness. That was why they needed each other. That was why he had to get rid of you.

        You had just finished a tour of the prison. Rick told you that you could stay for a while, but he didn't know if he trusted you as one of them. He shared a little about a rival community with a crazed leader. You understood. You never expected to stick around, even if they offered. You couldn't see yourself trusting anyone after what Merle did to you.

        You were sitting in the cell you slept in the night before, sharpening your machete and thinking about the things that you couldn't change. You heard distant voices echoing from the other block. It was some sort of confrontation from the sound of it. You snuck over to the cellblock where everyone stayed and peeked around a corner. Glenn and Maggie were blocking most of your view, but they seemed to be the most pissed off. Rick was off to the side trying to mediate.

        "You can't let him stay. Not after what he did to Glenn!" Maggie demanded.

        "He goes, I go."

        You stopped breathing. That voice sent chills up and down your spine. 

        "Okay." Rick held his hand out, attempting to set forward a solution but the room fell silent as you stepped into view. Merle noticed you first. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

        "Well, I'll shit bricks." He murmured in disbelief.

        "(Y/N)?" Daryl breathed, almost inaudibly. Your eyes were welling with tears as you stood just feet away from the man you loved.

        Daryl dropped everything and ran over to you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up. You couldn't even hug him back because your arms were trapped under his. All you could do was let out something between a giggle and sob.

        "Daryl." You whispered. Your body felt so perfect against his, just how he remembered. Then, it dawned on him. He set you down and turned to look at Merle, a blend of betrayal and fury flooding his eyes.

        "You said she was dead!" Daryl growled. 

        As everyone around you watched the scene before them unfold, they felt clueless. Daryl had never mentioned you because it hurt too much to bring up. Your feet began moving before you could even think. One second you were standing beside Daryl, then you blinked and you were inches away from Merle, rearing your fist back and striking his jaw with a force you didn't even know you were capable of. Merle stumbled and dropped to the ground holding his face. He moved his jaw around a little before he glared up at you.

        "Okay. I deserved that." He accepted.

        "Yeah, you did." You spat. 

        "Hold on. Someone care to explain what the hell's goin' on here?" Rick spoke out.

        You turned to Daryl, as if it was he who answered the question. You didn't care to share with the class. Daryl needed to know.

        "When we got separated in the woods.." You began, taking a breath. "Merle and I found a cabin. We hid there, waited for shit to blow over, and we were supposed to meet you back at the ruck. Merle figured you'd wait for us there."

        "And I left her." Merle admitted from behind you. You glanced back at him momentarily. You were surprised at his accountability.

        "In a closet." You added spitefully. "The place was surrounded. Took me forever to get out of there and even longer to get back to the truck. By then, you two and the bike were gone."

        Daryl's nostrils flared with rage. His fists were balled up so tight his knuckles turned white against his tan skin. His shoulders rose and fell with each heavy breath he took. He was so pissed, so hurt. The weight of the revelation had weighed him down so heavily that his boots felt like they were nailed to the ground. Otherwise, he would have lunged at his brother and beaten the teeth out of his skull. All that time Daryl spent in pain, mourning the loss of someone who wasn't gone. All because his brother didn't like her.

        "Why." Daryl growled.

        "The bike only fit two, man." 

That Night

        You sighed contently as Daryl traced little circles over your shoulder. Once it was decided to leave Merle in a cell, and everything had been explained to Rick, you and Daryl retired to his own cell to enjoy your reunion in private. He was laying on the bottom bunk, one foot crossed over the other as he stared into space, enjoying the feeling of your head on his chest and your arm and leg draped over him.

        "I missed you." You whispered, breaking a long, comfortable silence.

        "Mm." He hummed. "I mourned ya every day. I shoulda gone back."

        "Don't do that. We're together now. Don't blame yourself." 

        "Shoulda never believed 'im. I knew how jealous he was. Thought he'd get over it." He confessed. You smiled softly and nuzzled up closer, taking in a whiff of his sweaty scent.

        "Me too." You agreed. "But he left me with my bag. He didn't want me to die. I think he was afraid if only two of us fit on the bike you'd leave him behind."

        "Nah. Woulda had your sweet ass ride the handlebars." He teased, twirling a finger through your hair. You giggled, then you paused.

        "Wow. I think that's the first time I've laughed since we got split up." You realized.

        "Sure ya didn't find no boyfriends along the way?" He joked. He always did that when things felt too heavy between the two of you. You rolled your eyes, not that he could see it.

        "You say that like I've had a lot of those. We've been together since we were like, twenty." You laughed.

The Next Day

        Merle and Michonne had disappeared. You learned that the leader of the opposing community -- the Governor, as they called him -- wanted Michonne in exchange for peace, but Rick refused. Merle had likely taken her as a peace offering since he knew what the Governor was capable of.

        You and Daryl left to search for him. He took you to a spot where they had previously convened for negotiation. The two of you did a brief sweep of the area before stumbling across some walkers. You each took one down after another until you were left with only one. You froze when you registered what -- or who -- it was. 

        A sob immediately escaped Daryl as he fell backwards. You blinked back tears as you crouched down behind him and pulled him against you, rocking gently as Daryl wept. Merle's dead body clumsily pushed itself off the ground and onto its feet. You stood first, hoping to put it down before Daryl had to do it himself, but Daryl was quick to push past you. He violently shoved the corpse. It sumbled back, but it walked toward him again. Over and over Daryl shoved what was left of his brother as he cried. Tears were freeling spinning down your cheeks. 

        When Merle's body fell on its back, Daryl crawled on top of it and plunged his knife into its skull over and over and over until he collapsed.

        You wanted to intervene, to console, to be his rock, but something told you to let him get it out. He needed to. So, you waited until Daryl's blind rage simmered down and placed an assuring hand on his shoulder.

        "Wanna bury him?" You whispered.

        Daryl shook his head.

        "Okay." You relented. You glanced around your surroundings and noticed a patch of wildflowers off in the distance. "I'll be right back." You squeezed him gently before jogging over and gathering each and every flower in the patch. When you walked back over to where Daryl was hunched over Merle, he looked up at you with wet, red eyes. When he clocked the flowers, he gave a single nod and stood up beside you. You split the flowers in half and handed Daryl a bundle. The two of you placed them each individually around Merle's corpse.

        You thought back to a conversation you had with Merle the night before, when you couldn't sleep and went out of the cell to get some water.

        "Take care of my baby brother, will ya?" Merle's voice echoed through the quiet block.

        "I always have." 

"We'll take care of each other." Your vice cracked as you spoke. "Promise."

        "Promise." Daryl whispered.

Join the taglist! || Masterlist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow

[call-me-rucy]

ELENA IS HERE! My girl, how have you been!! She's cut her hair, I love that!!

The Vorkosigang is back assembled! (Except for Ivan, poor Ivan).

And Mayhew!!! And Tung!!! Wow the team is really back together!! I'm so happy that I just know this won't last a chapter.

Plan A (...) was to flee at once to the Ariel, now on picket-station, and declare the revolution.

This sounds so Miles idk if Tung has rubbed off on Miles or the other way around.

"To bang his commander's wife?" Elena's eyes sparked. "Anyone's wife? I knew then he wasn't level. If my oaths meant nothing to him, how little did his own?"

SAY IT!! Although this feels very Barrayaran, for all of Elena's hate to her home planet.

Right, Gregor is hearing all this for the first time. I guess he heard a censored version at the end of TWA but he must be amazed at the notion that Miles really did have a fleet as his command.

If anyone could point me to an essay and/or paper and/or tumblr post about the naismith/vorkosigan identity crisis Miles has, I'd be very grateful.

"I think . . . should you become refugees on Our behalf," (Elena, Miles saw, heard that official capital O too, as Tung and Mayhew of course could not)

I love the writing I love the writing I love the writing

I loved her once. Who is she now? Could one choose not to fall in love all over again with this new person?

I LOVE THE WRITING!

Elena being so quick on her reasoning that this will just end up as another treason charge for Miles. I hope that our old friend Greg can help if (when) that time comes.

Mercenary Gregor. Now that's an AU if I've ever seen one. I've tried searching for it on AO3 but all I've found is an alarming frequent use of the tag "Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies".

"I hear their new second officer is a Barrayaran. You might be able to swing some help, there."

This is plot. I'm sure. But Idk how. It's not gonna be help so what is it. Ungari's people?

OH CAVILO IS WITH THE RANGERS OKAY. They're so gonna run into them.

"Strange," said Gregor, looking at Elena—at the new Elena, guessed—"to think you've had more combat experience than either of us." "Than both of you," Elena corrected dryly.

YES!! TELL THEM!!! Elena is not my favourite character only because Cordelia exists, I think.

"Your friend can pass as a fleet soldier," Tung told Miles. "For you, I found a box."

Miles deserves a hug too.

Almost over, says Miles, in page 230 of a 400 page book.

Aaaaaand, here's the trouble.

Cavilo is the elf lady?!?!?

METZOV?!?!?!?! METZOV??!??! I'm sorry, Metzov?!?! Works for Cavilo?????

I HAD SPENT THE LAST FOURTH OF THE BOOK WONDERING WHAT NARRATIVE PURPOSE THE FIRST FOURTH OF THE BOOK SERVED AND OMG HERE IT IS. How could I not see it. This is. I have no words. I love Lois McMaster Bujold.

[starboysbrainrot]

“so happy the gaang got their happy ending”

what mf happy ending are we talking about exactly ?

you mean the happy ending where aang gets to live forever with the constant reminder that he is alone, that the genocide of his people happened and there is no going back ? where he has the responsibility to assure that the air nation doesn’t die off with him after his death ? where he has to forever live with the fact that he disappeared for 100 years and that the world he lives in now isn’t his. he’s a relic of the past, the testament of a forgotten culture, the last remaining of what is left of the air nomads. he’s alone, forever, at least a part of it died with his people, forever lost.

or you mean the happy ending where Katara & Sokka go back to their tribe, scarred forever by war and loss, having to rebuild the southern water tribe after 100 years of war ? having to rebuild their culture, forcefully destroyed by the fire nation ? forever living with the urge to cradle in their mother’s arms, but never quite being able to do it. Katara will forever see her mother in her brother, his face, his eyes, everything reminding her of Kya, and how she misses her. and Sokka being unable to remember his mother’s face, always ending up picturing Katara instead. even with their dad on their side, Kya will always be missing. no amount of hope, love, and support will grow them a new mother.

or you mean the happy ending where Toph goes back to her toxic parents that really couldn’t care less for who she really is ? and leaving the gaang, the only family she ever really had, who have to take on various missions around the world to rebuild it after the war ? and let’s not forget how scarred and terrified she could be after barely surviving their last battle.

or you mean the happy ending where Suki, after months in prison, simply has to go on with her life as if nothing ever happened ? as if she hadn’t rot in prison for months ? as if she hadn’t experienced the war firsthand by helping the refugees in Ba Sing Se ?

or maybe you mean the happy ending where Zuko, after living a childhood made of lies, abuse, neglect and grief, has to become fire lord at 16, with no idea on what he is doing ? after having half his face burned by his own father, for defending his nation, will experience numerous assassination attempts as a new ruler and have to rebuild the whole world because of the wrongdoings of his ancestors ? his hands are tainted red by blood that his swords didn’t shed, but the crown on his head now is his, and that’s all that matters in everyone’s eyes. that’s all that will always matter.

or maybe you mean all those other kids, that the gaang met during the series.

characters like Haru, who saw his dad being imprisoned, fearing for his life and the life of his mother everyday.

character like the freedom fighters, orphans, who had to become child soldiers in order to survive, who built a family around the hope that they were doing something right. only for it to be washed out by the destroying of a village, and the splitting up of their group.

characters like Jet, who never even got to see a life after the war, who was born in a world scarred by flames and loss, forced to become a parental figure to dozens of orphans, and who died by the hands of his very own country, forgotten forever under a lake, among other forgotten bodies.

characters like Mai or Ty Lee, that never really got to choose what they wanted to do, forcefully put into a role maintained by fear and violence. in a world that asked only thing from them : to fight.

characters like Azula, who got her whole life taken away by one cruel man, forced to become a weapon. who’s forever scarred by the way she grew up, by the way no one saved her, no one helped her, by the way she lost her mom and her brother, because of one, very, cruel man.

or Yue, who sacrificed herself for the wrongdoings of yet another man, who never got to experience adulthood, never got to experience the joy of growing up.

y’all can’t even comprehend that they are all DOOMED. they will never have a normal life after the war, never. their whole lives are forever scarred by the mistakes made by thousands of people before they were even born. they are born with tragedy, loss and war in their blood. ALL OF THEM. nothing will ever change that, no matter how good their future could be. even Aang, who was born before the war, was ultimately tainted by the horrors of it. after experiencing, seeing, all the suffering, all the wrongdoings.

they got the weight of the world and the hopes of long gone generations on their shoulders. not a single one of them got to be kids. not a single one of them got to experience a normal childhood. not a single one of them will live freely after the war. some of them won’t even live after the war.

because how. how can you forget, how can you forget 100 years of pain and suffering ?

(I know this all sounds pretty pessimistic but they all make me so, so sad… I love all of these characters so much. all of them. they make me sad in the best way possible and the tragedy of their story will forever make me cry.)

[lostinforestbound]

Could I request headcanons for how would Cal, and Zevlor feel about being with human gender neutral s/o/Tav?

They're definitely more secure than Rolan I would think, but let's explore it more!

Cal and Zevlor with a Human Partner

Cal

Cal is cheeky and kind, but he isn't stupid. He knows more than anyone that there's a prejudice against tieflings as a refugee from Elturel. But as long as his partner is happy with him, he doesn't care.

At first, he's worried about it when it comes to dating anyone, but he tries to not think on it too hard. There's too many things to worry about right now.

He's a little frightened, when he falls in love with his partner for the first time, especially since they are human. He knows people will talk, but at that point, he doesn't care. He wants them very badly, so he will make it work.

As long as his partner doesn't have a problem, he doesn't have one either. Spending so much energy on focusing what other people think can be exhausting.

He'd rather use all that energy towards his partner. To take them out on dates, make love, explore the city, and spend time with their or his family.

Cal is still careful with his nails though. He knows they're pretty sharp, and he never wants to hurt his partner, so once in a while he'll blunt them down.

He also tries to get his tail under control, as most days it has a mind of it's own. He can't help it! He always wants to wrap it around his partner to keep them close to him.

Of course he never does this in public, it's seen as extremely intimate and he doesn't want to cause problems for his partner, even if they're comfortable with it.

Sometimes the prejudice gets to him, but with his partner's unrelenting love and reassurance the feeling never lasts long at all. They're all that matters anyways.

Zevlor

While Zevlor is not outwardly insecure about having a human partner, he definitely has his concerns, but not just because he is a tiefling.

Not only is he an older man, but he things there are other, better options outside of himself. Why would they choose him, an oathbreaker who failed his own people?

He's been broken down over his many failures, and he fully believes his partner deserves someone better. Not to mention the prejudice that'll come with dating him, especially since his infernal ridges are visible on his face.

He's shocked to see that his partner just doesn't care about all that. How could they not care? Do they not see the way people stare at them strangely when he just wants to hold their hand?

It takes him a little while, but slowly and surely, he starts to not care either. While it's still in the back of his mind, he doesn't let it affect his relationship.

He doesn't become a fool though, prejudice is everywhere, and he can never escape it, but now he has a healthier handle on it. His relationship is what matters anyways.

He doesn't use his tail often in public, so he's not worried about it too much, but one time he accidentally cuts his partner with his nail and feels horrible about it.

It's not long after that he starts clipping them. They get in the way anyways, especially when doing casual, every day tasks. While he still has a fighting spirit, he's tired now. No need to hold a sword as often anymore.

He never though he could fall deeper in love with his partner until they defend him from an asshole who dared to breathe "foulblood" his way. It was an incredible sight.

Later that night he treats them to dinner with plenty of kisses to show he appreciates it. He still advises that he could handle himself but loves it either way.

[mallory-x]

Hey Ferd Nerds! The wonderful Ferdinand Kingsley is currently fundraising for Choose Love, a charity supporting refugees and displaced people.

Ferdie’s been supporting this charity for several years through his work with Letters Live (and just because he’s an all round genuinely nice person). Choose Love are supporting people in/from Gaza, and in light of recent racist riots in the UK a donation is also a way of standing against those people who choose hate and violence instead of love and compassion for our fellow humans.

Ferdie is aiming to raise £500 and he’s only just over halfway there with two weeks to go. Please reblog to get this to a wider audience, and donate if you can. The link to donate in Ferdie’s name is on his Instagram bio.

Let’s help him reach his target!

[toriaanin]

A birthday gift for Nicola

Nicola Coughlan's birthday is this Thursday, January 9th!

Would you like to help celebrate Nicola on her special day? Consider supporting Choose Love - a cause that's very important to her - by purchasing the cute t-shirt she designed or the gorgeous necklace she and jewelry designer Rachel Jackson created through collaboration!

A little about Choose Love... Choose Love provides refugees and displaced people all over the world with everything from lifesaving equipment to food and legal support. The Choose Love vision is a world that chooses love and justice every day, for everyone. 

100% of all proceeds for the purchase of a t-shirt or necklace to go ChooseLove.

Wishing Nicola the happiest of birthdays! I'm sure Luke will be spoiling her rotten 🤍🤍🤍 Xx

P.S. I just bought a t-shirt in black! It's going to take a long while to get here, sadly. Regardless, I can't wait!!

[meldingintheunderdark]

I always get super sad thinking about the reveal of Halsin's dream project.

He's persuaded his lover doesn't long to build a life with him in Thaniel's realm. A hero like them, choosing to be with a man like him? Impossible. So, under the assumption they'll never desire a future with him specifically, he alone finds refugees, bonds with children, probably pays for wagons and basic necessities. In other words, so many opportunities for a heart-to-heart chat deliberately ignored. Sure, he does have a good bit of commentary about the children, poverty, unsanitary living conditions and all that. He does muse over possible solutions to fix these problems, but he doesn't outright mention his project, unless I missed a dialogue somehow.

So Halsin tells Sszazar, my resist!DU, he dreamed a dream without him, that he's leaving right after sex because these vulnerable people need his help urgently. Even if Sszazar has shown his willingness to help people, especially kids, many times already, his good deeds and his agency were disregarded when Halsin has automatically assigned the role of eventual guest to him because he couldn't hope for more. For Sszazar, Halsin's one-sided decision is his first heartbreak. Moreover, it happens after his sense of self has been smashed to smithereens. He doesn't know everything about the bear's most intimate and complex issues either. After all, it's a fresh new love which bloomed so recently in a hectic, life-threatening situation.

Tumblr search is shit, so I honestly wonder if I'm the only one here with a character hurt by Halsin's choice. His issues explain his reasoning but they don't erase the initial pain caused by the realization he hid his project from you because he has decided for you you would visit him sometimes and you would prefer parades and glory over a life together.