#do I just not know my own strength?? could it be possible that my doctor who is trained in bowel disease was right?

[cartoonscientist]

I’m always trying to analyze whether I’m malingering fiction-based health issues or whether my existing issues drew me to various media that reference them, which is honestly kind of ridiculous because most of these issues have been affecting me for me entire life and I just forget about them until they start bothering me again, like holy shit having memory issues causes so many existential crises, BUT ANYWAY the reason I typed this post was to say that I think this way because I always remember someone in the livejournal era who was really into the show House and got super drunk one time and fell down a ziggurat (my memory insists this is the case which I’m pretty sure is a semi doxx if it’s true because who falls down a ziggurat in an urban area? there’s no way someone fell down a ziggurat in North America) and then had to use a cane and take pain meds and they kind of made it their whole personality

[pedrospatch]

softness

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. it is part of the safe and sound universe.

She’d made her entrance into the world early.

About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.

Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.

And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.

For several months, all you could do was hope.

Hope for a smooth pregnancy.

Hope for a safe labor and delivery.

Hope for a strong, healthy baby.

When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.

“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”

Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”

He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.

On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.

Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.

“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”

“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”

For a split second, that panic had ceased.

“She?”

Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”

“I did?”

“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”

Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.

“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”

He truly, honestly hadn’t.

It’d slipped before he could even think about it.

But his accidental slip had been right.

After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.

“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”

“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.

Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.

“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”

Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.

“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”

Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.

“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”

You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.

“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”

He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born. 

“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”

“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.

Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”

Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.

“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”

Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.

“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.

Dr. Porter walks into the room.

She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.

“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”

Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.

Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”

“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”

“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”

“How’s she sleeping?”

“Like a rock.”

“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”

You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”

“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”

Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”

“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”

After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.

“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”

“No.”

Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.

Your face falls. “Why not?”

“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”

“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”

“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”

“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”

“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”

“Take off your shirt.”

His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”

The blood drains from his face and he pales. 

It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.

He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.

Still.

The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.

Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.

The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.

The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.

The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.

Joel?

He isn’t soft.

Nothing about him is soft.

Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.

“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”

Joel swallows harshly.

“What is it?”

“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”

Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it’s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”

His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.

Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.

The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.

And when it does, it breaks down.

“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”

Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”

You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.

The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.

It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.

He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate. 

And Rosemary stops crying.

She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.

Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”

“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”

Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.

“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.

“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”

Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really believe it?”

Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”

“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”

“Of course I do.”

“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”

Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”

Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.

Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.

Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”

“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

[pastelclovds]

can u do ABO au with slashers going through their heat and asking the reader coughbeggingcough for help?

cw: this was longer than expected, dom!top!gn!alpha!reader, sub!bottom!omega!michael myers, knotting, heats, praise kink, condom use, michael is implied to be a virgin, male omegas have pussies and dicks, all alphas have dicks. word count: 1.3 k

michael had experienced many things in his life, but one thing he never experienced, were his heats. because he was in the mental institution, michael was given suppressants by the doctors all his life up until he escaped and started his rampage.

but five days after his escape, he began feeling hot and sweaty, his vision was blurry, and his pussy was leaking slick like crazy. michael didn’t know what was happening to him, and for the first time in his life, he was confused and scared. it soon got worse to the point where michael couldn’t even walk and hid himself in an alley. that’s when he meet you. you were an alpha that was throwing out the trash behind your house, when you caught the scent of an omega in heat.

you were obviously worried for the poor soul, so you followed the scent, and there you found the infamous bogeyman. michael gripped onto his knife with a shaky hold and tried to attack you, but his movements were slow and you quickly slapped the knife out of his hands. michael let out a threatening growl and pounced on top of you, the air was pushed out of your lungs as michael’s hands were put beside your head and made you stay down. “h-hey, i just want to help you. an omega shouldn’t be out in public during their heat, you’re in pain, aren’t you?” you asked, trying to keep a calm voice and pumping out comforting pheromones.

michael let out deep pants of air, you could tell he was holding onto his last bit of strength by the way his body was shaking. michael unexpectedly whines when he unknowingly rubs his clothed hard-on against your thigh. you gently put your hand on his plastic cheek, you ask, “has this ever happened to you?” michael shakes his head no, you know enough about this guy to know that he was dangerous, but you couldn’t just leave him here to suffer through his first heat.

“let me help you, please,” you pleaded, michael thought long and hard, and eventually agreed. you led him inside your house, up to your bedroom, and quickly got to business. before you could even remove your boxers, michael pushed you onto your bed, dry humping you like a feral beast. you pulled michael in for a kiss against his covered lips as you zipped him out of his jumpsuit so that he was just in his underwear. as michael fought with your mouth for dominance, you flip the both of you over so that michael’s back was on the mattress.

you reach for your nightstand and take out lube and a condom pack from the drawer. michael’s breath hitches as he watches you pull your cock out and slide the condom on. you smile down at the bogeyman and went to kiss so dangerously close to his abdomen up to his large chest. “you have such a beautiful body, michael. your abs, arms, and thighs are strong,” you pull michael’s underwear down, and place your hands between his thick thighs to pull them apart and reveal his wet entrance. “oh what i would give to have my head between these things, and have you ride my face. perhaps we could do it next time, if you want to,” michael’s dick twitched in interest as more slick spilled from his cunt. he liked praise, noted.

you didn’t want to tease him too much because once again, he was in heat, and you were slightly scared of what he would do if you kept him waiting any longer. you wanted to make his first heat as pleasurable as possible.

you slipped in a finger, his walls took you in with ease. michael moaned when you began to work your finger inside him, he’d never had something that big inside him before. you were putting his comfort above your own pleasure, precum gathered at the tip of michael’s cock. he let out another loud whine when you put another finger inside him, he moved to cover his mouth. there was so much slick that you didn’t think he even needed lube, michael thrusted against your fingers, desperately looking for the relief he needed. deciding he was loose enough, you pulled your fingers out of his pussy (he glared at you through his mask for doing so), grabbed the lube, and poured it over your slick covered hand to bathe your cock in.

you held out your hand for michael, “let me know if you feel uncomfortable, okay?” michael was taken aback by your gentleness, but nodded and took your hand in his. you wrapped his legs around your waist, lined your cock up to his dripping pussy, and slowly pushed inside, thankfully he was wet and loose enough so you bottom out with ease. michael squeezed your hand as he breathed heavily, his walls were so warm, you resisted the urge to just plow him then and there.

it wasn’t until he was grinding his hips that he silently told you to fuck him. you set a deep but slow pace, michael let out guttural groans when the fat heat of your cock hit his sweet spot. slaps of skin against skin filled your ears, along with you and michael’s mixed moans made your hips speed up. michael gasped when you grabbed his legs and pushed them against his chest, the new angle made you thrust deeper into him. “you feel- oh, so good for me, mikey. gonna make me cum soon,” michael moans breathlessly in your ear as his hands grip desperately on your back.

the bed slammed against your wall in sync with your pace, the smell of heat and sex filled the room, and if there was anyone in your house, they would be able to hear you two fucking like animals. michael could feel his walls tighten around you before slick and cum dirty your thighs and chest. he holds you as tight as he can, overstimulation overcoming him as you relentlessly use him to chase your end. your knot starts to expand, making it harder to thrust until you finally bottom out and fill the condom with hot cum.

michael and yourself were cover in a thin layer of sweat as you both let your orgasms wash over you. it took awhile until your knot lessened enough to pull out, “you were so good for me michael, relax while i get us some water and napkins,” michael watched as you threw away the used condom and left the room, he felt so much better than earlier, albeit sweaty, but still good. you came back with two glasses of water and a tissue box and sat beside michael. you made a move to take off his mask, but he took your wrist in a death grin and let out a warning grown.

“sorry baby, but you need to drink something,” michael was silent, you sighed and put the glass on top of the nightstand beside the bed. “after i’m done cleaning you up, i’m going to sleep, you can drink then. i don’t want you having a sore throat.” you rip a few tissue out of the box and begins cleaning michael and yourself. michael was watching you like a hawk the entire time, your face, your neck that didn’t have a mating mark (yet), and your cock. once you’re done, you wrap your bedsheets around michael and yourself. you smile at michael before kissing his masked cheek and resting your head on a pillow facing him, “goodnight, michael.” he watches as you drift off to sleep and you begin drooling on the pillow case. you looked so peaceful when you sleep.

the morning came, and michael was was not beside you. you were fully expecting him to kill you in your sleep, but thankfully he didn’t. you thought that would be the last and only time you’ll ever see the bogeyman. oh how wrong you were. you weren’t upset though, in fact, you were gleeful.

[allfearstofallto]

Am soo happy to see your back even if it's just for a short while I hope your doing okey and that everything is good with life and work 😊 i wanted to ask if it was possible how do you think Yan Scara would react if reader got sick ? Would he be worried ? Would he try to tend to them or leave it to the doctors and servants ?

Again thank you so much for taking time for us 💕

My asks are FULL of this exact same question, I'm not joking 😭😭 so I just wrote all of them.

Sick Day

Yandere! x Fem! Reader

Featuring: Diluc, Childe, and Scaramouche

Diluc spent most of his life taking care of himself. Before and after the passing of his father, he was independent to a worrying degree for a young child. So when he got sick, he paid it little mind. He took the proper medicine and if the fever was mild enough, he'd still be sitting at his desk filing his mountains of paperwork. The only indication that he was unwell being the slight rasp of his voice and flush of his cheeks.

But that was because Diluc didn't care much for his own well-being. His body wasn't useful for much other than work, but only he believed that. The day you wake up with a cough and runny nose, mentioning to the head maid that you can't leave the bed because you're so lightheaded, Diluc is in shambles. The second the news makes it to his ears that you're under the weather, he's rushing to your bed chambers, at your side even when you don't want him.

Diluc can't stand the idea of losing you. You can hate him until Teyvat freezes over, it hurts, but at the very least he knows you're well. So the second you fall ill, a part of him feels shame for his inability to protect you, the other feels a visceral fear that you won't be around anymore.

For days you're catered to in bed. Not just by maids, but Diluc too. You're given soft, warm foods and plenty of water. Your temperature is taken three times a day by a doctor, who insists that if you're not awake to eat, you should sleep more to regain your strength. You wondered how much Diluc threatened him to get him to say the same thing over and over.

The day that you're deemed well and cleared to roam the manor freely again, is supposed to be a joyous one for you. As much as you love your room, you were growing sick of the wallpaper and you could only look at the same painting so many times before it frustrated you instead of entertaining. But overbearing Diluc is still around, watching you with worried eyes and begging you to take breaks to rest after every three steps you take.

Ajax is the epitome of an old wife when it comes to health remedies. With all of his siblings, some of which he ended up taking care of as he got older, he picked up a thing or two from the way his mother cared for him when he was sick. Her remedies, while strange to those from other countries, always had him in tiptop shape in a day or two.

It didn't help that you didn't hail from Snezhnaya. Liyue got cold, but even the hottest day in Snezhnaya was colder than the coldest in Liyue. Your body would have to acclimate to your new climate, meaning that even if he tried to keep you warm at night with the fireplace roaring and many blankets, all it would take was a little Snezhnayan air tickling your nostrils to make you wake up with a cold.

Using what his mother taught him and what her mother taught her before, he woke you up from your sleep when he noticed your runny nose and tears in your eyes. Pressing a hand against your forehead to check your temperature, all while your dreary eyes slowly blinked, wordlessly begging for more sleep.

“You'll rest soon, my angel, but I need you to drink this first,” Childe spoke in the softest voice he could muster, so as not to intensify your headache.

He knew something was wrong with you, the way you took the cup from his hands and downed without batting an eye. The little grimace your face made when the vodka hit your tongue was cute, but he tried not to get lost in your features while you were still sick and needy for assistance. His mother did a lot of things when he fell ill, but a shock of vodka was always the first, you were out cold after swallowing it down.

Despite his love for you, Ajax doesn't worry when you're sick. He believes that sickness is just one of the many battles of life and that there's no way you won't succeed in conquering it. Even after you're better, Childe insists that the two of you do some light exercises together. You can complain that it's your first day healthy, but he won't listen. Strengthening your body will keep you from getting sick again.

Even though he's lived for hundreds of years, Scaramouche doesn't quite understand the human body. Improper conditions for a prolonged time will just make you cease to work? And in the most inconvenient way possible as well? It's annoying and far too inconvenient.

Or, that's what he told himself. But when he looks over at you that first morning when you're sick, sweay pooling on your forehead and seemingly unable to breathe, something tugs at his heart. He feels something for you, watching as even in your dreams you're writhing in pain. Scaramouche feels pity. He assumes it's something he can only feel towards you because his heart sings for you.

“What are you doing?” Scaramouche questions a maid who he bumped into in the hallway.

Even though she carried a bowl of water in her hands, she still found a way to bow, “I received news that the Lady has a fever, my lord. A towel soaked in cold water on her forehead will help break it.”

He hummed. He'd heard of such things, but never thought that he himself would see them being used. A sense of urgency took over him when he realized that this would help you though, a need to be the one doing it for you.

“She'll be more comfortable with someone she's familiar with. Let me do it,” he ordered while snatching the bowl from her hands.

She opened her mouth to question him, but he shot her a glare before she could. He marched back to his room promptly, kneeling beside you as you slept. As the maid said, the cool towel did work. You seemed less pained when he placed it on your forehead.

After that moment, Scaramouche insisted he be the one doing everything for you while you were sick. Feeding you ginger soup, changing your blankets, nursing you back health without any assistance. All because he assured everyone that you'd be more comfortable with him doing it, although you rarely even opened your tired eyes the entire time you were getting better, so you had no idea who was cradling you in their arms and insisting you eat more.

When you're better, you're under the assumption that the maids are the ones who helped you, knowing that while you're sick you're practically comatose. But they insist that it wasn't them, saying that Lord Scaramouche himself cared for you and stayed by your side the entire time.

He'll never admit it though, brushing you off by saying something along the lines of, “Why are you saying such stupid things?”

[avelera]

I'm wondering what you think about how much Viktor knew about his disease and his limited life expectancy before that scene in the hospital?

Because Viktor draws that conclusion before Jayce even says anything. Jayce is clearly very upset about whatever the doctor says, but he never spells out that it's terminal, and Viktor immediately concludes that, so that might make it seem like he already suspected beforehand.

On one hand, he is obviously hiding his symptoms from Jayce, and at this point he might either be in denial, or already suspecting it. I do get the sense his disease is common in the undercity and always fatal, the documents Caitlyn goes through about the grey show pictures of lungs which imply a lung disease the grey causes, which I think is the same disease Viktor has. It wouldn't be a leap for him to conclude that coughing up blood means he has this disease and will probably die.

On the other hand, he does get increasingly desperate to save his own life after he gets the diagnosis, and even has that talk with Heimerdinger about his legacy, which does kind of imply that the truth hadn't truly settled in before then or it was really the first time he found out. Though in regards to the hexcore, he really stumbled into its potential healing properties by accident and it makes sense he'd fall into that obsession when he first gets a sliver of hope

I do agree if Viktor suspected, he wouldn't tell Jayce. He's already quite ashamed of all his medical issues, and Jayce's comment about his disappearing is probably about that.

Anyway, curious what your thoughts are

Oh, I have a VERY specific headcanon that's going to make an appearance the Distinguished Innovators sequel that I'm actively working on but I'm happy to spell it out here too.

Ok, so, I don't think it's possible for Viktor to have fully hidden his degenerative illness from Jayce. Jayce is too loving and attentive and the illness progression over the course of the time skip between 1.03 and 1.04 is too dire for even the most oblivious person to miss.

And no, I don't buy the "cooking a frog" excuse that Jayce would miss it because the progression is gradual. It's not gradual. It's extreme. Viktor goes from a cane he can occasionally set aside to a crutch, leg brace, back brace, dark circles under his eyes, sunken skin, a hunched posture and regular coughing fits that sometimes spit up blood. I mean look at this:

You simply cannot tell me that Jayce hasn't been aware of this progression.

Not to mention, that when Viktor coughs up blood at the Hexgates, he does not hide the blood from Jayce and Jayce does not react to the blood! That means Jayce has known that Viktor's coughing fits regularly bring up blood at this point.

But what did Jayce believe up to this point? I want to explore that and offer my own rather exhaustive headcanon:

So, there is simply no way in my mind that Jayce could be kept in the dark about the fact that Viktor has his leg and another health issue bearing down on him and sapping his strength.

However, I do believe that Viktor knows that he has a degenerative illness that will likely end his life within the next few years and that he has lied to or obfuscated from Jayce just how dire his prognosis is.

I think Jayce expected Viktor to have decades left while Viktor hoped to have a few more good years left, and both were shocked and pained to learn it might be months. However, Jayce in particular seems completely blindsided, which is why I suspect Viktor allowed him to continue to believe he had decades to live when Viktor knew he did not.

I think Viktor would have rather died on that floor than let Jayce know he's dying.

I also think both Viktor and Jayce held out hope that Hextech would lead to a miracle cure for Viktor, but both knew it would take years to achieve. After all, most of their active innovations were around industry, transportation, mining, etc. It makes sense given the spell they had to work from was a weightlessness and teleportation spell Jayce saw the Mage do. Biology and healing was probably possible, and on their radar, Hextech is magic after all, but I truly believe they thought it was going to take years of innovation and a lot of leaps, not to mention luck, before they'd stumble upon runes that would let them pivot to healing. It's not a natural progression based on what they know of magic.

This is part of why I think Jayce believed Viktor still had decades left. Because I think, if Jayce knew it was only a few years, he would have tossed everything out to just work on healing Viktor with Hextech.

And this is where I'm going to make the full leap to headcanon territory. I don't think this is canonical to the text, it's just my interpretation of the text that I use for fic writing. H'ok, let's go:

I think Viktor knew specifically what fissure illness he had and he knew most people who have it do not live past 30. I think he's known most of his life. I think that's why he's so driven to achieve everything he can while young.

Hence Viktor's, "Don't ask permission," attitude. He's always known he's got about ~30 years to live and he's going to make the most of it, hence his meteoric rise, but also why he's willing to take a dramatic lateral leap to be Jayce's partner at the first sight of a potentially world-changing innovation to work on with his remaining years. He's less worried about losing what he's achieved than he is about missing out on the next great scientific leap, possibly because he knows he's only got a few years left anyway.

I think Viktor (and possibly his parents!) believed that if he moved to Piltover where the air was cleaner, he'd have longer to live. This adds to his parents' motivation to make the desperate, possibly criminal move to sneak Viktor into the Academy.

I think getting to Piltover made Viktor relatively optimistic about his prognosis. With better air, nutrition, and sunlight access, he might have a chance to beat the "Dead by 30" inevitability of his disease. And to some extent, he did! He's about 32 when he collapses in Arcane S1 but still, it's not as much time as he or anyone in his position might have hoped for. This explains his weary resignation to the fact he doesn't have much time left. He's known this is coming for a while.

I also think, and this is pure headcanon, that coughing blood signals the beginning of the end for this particular disease. That's why pre-time skip Viktor is motivated but not desperate yet. He's not coughing blood yet. He still has time. But once he starts coughing blood, post-time skip, he goes from motivated to desperate. I think coughing blood means you've only got a few months to maybe a few years left, and Viktor knows this.

I think Viktor knew his prognosis meant "Dead by 30" but he only told this vaguely to Jayce. Like "Yes, this cough is a symptom of a disease that will shorten my lifespan, but we still have time for a Hextech miracle if we work hard."

Jayce, coming from a background of relative privilege compared to the undercity, took "a shorter lifespan" to mean Viktor would live to like... 60 instead of 80. Plenty of time to find a way to pivot Hextech to healing if they crank it and push everything they have into accelerating the use, application, and innovation of Hextech as quickly as possible. The more resources they have, the more widely Hextech is adopted, the better the chance they'll have the time, assistance, resources, and frankly the power to stumble into something that will cure Viktor in the next few decades.

Viktor is more of a realistic about the progression of science. Note his, "It's a leap," about Jinx's potential to crack Hextech. Jayce believes in miracles because he was rescued by one. But I think Viktor knows intrinsically that it would take a very unlikely miracle to pivot from industry to healing uses of Hextech. He humors Jayce, and he's optimistic, but more than he wants to waste time looking for an impossible cure, he wants to leave a legacy and help others while he's alive, rather than chasing the rabbit of a healing application just for himself that they are realistically decades away from.

I think one reason Viktor didn't tell Jayce how short his prognosis ir OR how unrealistic it is for them to pivot Hextech to healing with what they have is that he didn't want Jayce to waste time on healing him with nothing to show for it when they inevitably failed. Even if they did nothing but try to apply Hextech to curing him, they probably wouldn't have time to beat his Dead by 30 prognosis (as of age ~26 when they partnered up) and Viktor wanted to contribute to problems they could actually solve in his lifetime instead of chasing a fairytale.

The Hexcore changes everything there, of course. It embodies the miraculous leap they'd need to skip over decades of incremental innovation in Hextech and it's what causes the pivot in Viktor's motivations from help the undercity to "help the undercity (but actually I just want to help myself and I'm actually such a good and selfless person I can't even admit this very human desire to live even to myself)"

Just to circle back briefly, I think learning Viktor's prognosis was a horrible shock for Jayce. Like I said, he really believed he had more time with Viktor. All his actions point to this. Yes he knew the Council was a bit of a distraction, but it was serving their overarching goal of pushing Hextech as quickly and as far as possible to cure Viktor in the next decade or so. He would never have stolen months away from working beside Viktor if he didn't think Viktor had many years more to live, even with his illness as it was.

Ok, I think that about covers it! If you do want to read the fic where I'm going to include all this, you should subscribe to this series.

[22ayla19]

Jiyan x Pregnant! reader PART I

As the wife of a general, you rarely saw your husband at home, but even so, in those rare moments when you spend time together, you try to enjoy so as not to forget them. After all, no one knows whether tomorrow or the day after tomorrow your husband will be alive.

Once again you accompany your husband to the gate and sadly look back at his departing figure. The next time you see him, you're not sure. Maybe in a month, maybe in two or three. No matter how many months pass, you will still be waiting for Jiyan.

However, a week after your husband left, you began to feel sick in the morning. Without being stupid and remembering that about a week ago you had sex with Jiyan, this could mean that you are pregnant. Of course, you bought a pregnancy test and checked your guesses, which in the end turned out to be correct.

Not knowing what to do in such a situation, you went to the hospital where your mother-in-law works. She, as a doctor and as a woman who has gone through pregnancy, will be able to tell you what to do, because in the early stages there is a possibility of miscarriage, and given your position as the wife of a general, who often puts her life on the line on the battlefield, there may be a high probability of miscarriage. How are you worried about him?

- Hello, mom. How are you doing? - you asked after knocking in your mother-in-law’s office. You didn’t even call her mother-in-law or her name, because she became a real mother to you. You grew up without a mother who died during childbirth. She was in the care of her father. You didn’t complain about life, because others could have had it worse, but your father didn’t stay with you for long, he died a couple of years ago. And when you first met Jiyan’s mother, you cried because of how much you missed your mother. The woman warmed to you and accepted you as her daughter.

- (Y/N), dear! Come in, come in! I haven’t seen you like that for a long time,- the woman hugged you, to which you happily responded.

- Sorry for not visiting, it’s work,- you answered the woman guiltily.

- Don’t worry, you have your own life, that’s why it’s understandable that you’re busy, sit down.

After chatting a bit about Jiyan's return and the latest news, you gathered your strength to share the good news.

- Mom, I really came to you with good news, - rummaging in your bag, you pulled out a pregnancy test and handed it to your mother-in-law. At first the woman did not understand why you wanted to please her. Taking the pregnancy test into her own hands, the woman’s smile became even wider.

- Will I become a grandmother? - the mother-in-law asked, not believing the test.

- You will become a grandmother, - you answered calmly, but just as happily.

- My congratulations, dear! How happy I am for you! Does Jiyan even know?

- No, I just found out that I’m pregnant a couple of days ago, and he’s been gone for almost two weeks, - you explained. You were already about to say something, like advice for pregnant women, when your father-in-law came into the office.

- Why are you happy here without me? Did something good happen? - asked the man.

- Rejoice, old brat. You will become a grandfather! - the wife shouted joyfully.

- Come on! (Y/N), dear, are you really pregnant? - The man asked you, not believing his wife’s words.

- Yes, father. I am pregnant.

The man smiled with all his teeth and joyfully said that now his colleagues would envy him that he became a grandfather before them. We laughed a lot at the man’s words, but the uncertainty immediately disappeared when we saw their loving glances.

Over the next months, while Jiyan was away, his parents helped you in any way they could. The main thing was that they supported you morally, because you were still worried about your husband. Another point where they helped you was with a medical examination, you underwent it on their advice once or twice a month. You decided not to find out the sex of the child ahead of time, let it be a surprise for everyone, no matter who it is, a boy or a girl.

Soon it was announced that the general would return, which means he will soon find out that he will become a father. The belly has already become more noticeable, although this is not surprising considering that I am already 4 months pregnant.

It was evening outside, you were in the living room with your mother-in-law and were talking about different topics. She often came and helped around the house more than once, saying: “You’re in a position, so it’s better to rest and walk more. I’ll cook you delicious, but healthy food at the same time.”

While you were chatting, the front door opened.

- I’ll go check who’s there, - said the future grandmother.

You remained in the living room, sitting on the sofa. Expecting to hear at least some voices, but somehow everything was suspiciously quiet.

Meanwhile, in the corridor, the woman met her son, who had returned from the border zone. Jiyan wanted to ask what his mother was doing in his house, but she told him to remain silent and quietly, so that you wouldn’t hear, told him to go to the living room, where you had prepared a surprise for him.

Jiyan was confused, what have you prepared that even his mother is participating in your idea? Quietly entering the living room, he greeted you, thereby frightening you.

- I’m sorry, dear, that I scared you, - the general said guiltily.

- It’s okay, I’m glad you returned safe and sound,- you replied. Jiyan didn’t immediately realize that you were pregnant, because you covered your stomach with a blanket.

- Mom, she said that you had prepared a surprise for me. Curious to know what it is?

- Well, the surprise itself is not ready yet. It will be ready only after another 5 months, - you answered your husband with a mischievous smile.

- That is?

You didn’t leave your husband thinking for long and took off the blanket. Jiyan's eyes widened in surprise. He remembered leaving and leaving you for a couple of months, but he didn’t know you were pregnant.

-Are you pregnant? - A lot of emotions were reflected on the general’s face. And joy, and fear, and surprise. He did not expect that he would soon become a father, he was very happy to realize this, but with this comes fear. Fear of losing you and your unborn child.

- Yes darling. I am pregnant.

These words echoed in his mind. He cried, cried with happiness.

- Darling, you can’t imagine how happy I am. You made me the happiest person in the world, - hugging you and also crying, he thanked you for such wonderful news.

Maybe someday he will have to die on the battlefield, but until then, he will fight. To fight so that I can return home to Jinzhou and see you and your baby growing up every day.

[zylusmusings]

"my star, that's not what i had meant." xavier's voice, as always, is as gentle as can be. she's over-consumed with anger, grasping at straws in attempts to validate her desperate want to scream at him, so she tries to think of a time when he'd raised his voice at her, and she can't. not even by a singular decibel.

xavier, a man so fitting of his angel-like features, was the kindest and gentlest soul she's ever known. even during their biggest fights, (she wonders if he'd even consider them fights, because he never fights back) he'd only ever gently explains his thoughts as she snaps and throws her arms up in frustration. this time, it's no different.

"oh come on, xavier. you meant exactly what you said - you don't think i can do it!" she speaks accusingly, deep lines of upset drawn in between her brows as she frowns. "you said "i don't think it's a good idea to involve yourself in this mission," did you not?" xavier opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it soon after. because she was right, she had quoted him verbatim.

she scoffs, shaking her head as she glares at her lover. "and yet, your name was the first one i saw when they released the list of hunter confirmed for the mission! do you see me as less, xavier? i know i'm not as experienced as you are, but i'm still a good hunter!"

xavier has his head hung low, blonde strands covering his guilt ridden blue orbs. he feels guilty, there's no question about it. yet, the small selfish part of him, ruled by the memory of his dying lover's body turning cold in his own arms, makes no way for regret to reside in his body. till this day, though a long time since the memory was birthed, there isn't a day where the feeling of his legs growing numb from staying frozen in place, fearful of any minuscule movement that will reinforce the fact that she has died, doesn't haunt him.

it was not as though he isn't aware of her capabilities as a hunter. she was talented beyond words. the way she moved and danced with the swords and weapons against the wanderers like the battlefield was a stage for her very own recital - her skills captivates him every time he had the honour of sharing the battlefield with her.

but he won't lie, ever since doctor zayne himself had pulled him aside secretly after he had accompanied her to her monthly appointment to advise him to be cautious of her overexerting herself physically at work due to her heart condition (and though neither doctor zayne nor she has given him much clue about the true urgency of her condition, he cannot help but be haunted by the fear and frustration in the cardiac surgeon's eyes), the fear has kept him up on more nights than he thought possible.

he's still silent, unsure how he'd like to go about this. as worried as he is, he bets it's an even more difficult experience for her to go through. her condition was something they barely talked about, she often shrugs off the topic every time it was brought up. xavier understands that she fears it too - almost to the point that she overcompensates for it by being too fearless. xavier wishes they could just simply talk about their fears together, but he doesn't know how to.

"so? nothing else to say now?" she almost challenges him, scoffing yet again in disbelief as she finally pulls her glare away and crosses her arms. xavier actually has a million and one things that he wishes to say, the bulk of it being apologies and the truth that's been weighing so heavily in his heart.

xavier is soft spoken, his body often the pen that writes the words he wishes to speak. "i.." he begins, then shakes his head as he steps in front of her, and so naturally, gets on his knees. an arm wraps around the back of her knees, and his free hand captures one of her own. he finds strength in the warmth of her skin, a reminder and reassurance that she was still alive and well - and he shan't squander this chance.

"i apologise, my heart." he sighs, grateful when she doesn't pull away. there is still stiffness and hesitance in her body and he doesn't blame her for that, understands that she's upset. nervously, he looks up at her, a little desolate when he sees her purposefully looking away. he takes her hand to his lips, where they press a soft kisses on each of her fingers. he doesn't know the intent is to comfort her, or himself. though he enjoys the imprints of her skin against his own, would tattoo the art lines of her fingerprints onto every inch of his body if he could.

"without a doubt in my heart, i know you're the bravest woman alive. enthrals me to no end how you're so beautiful, so talented and so intelligent all at the same time. all the marvels in the world stored in you." his eyes never once strayed away from her face, and you could see the twinkling in his eyes as he continues to watch her like she was the embodiment of the flowers that bloom in spring - and this garden was a place he'd be the most devoted pilgrim for. and with the honour of being the one she loves, how could this soldier not want protect his beloved treasure?

"but in all honesty, i'd been a bit worried since your last appointment. you've never truly told me what happened, so i don't know how to gauge things." he continues his explanation, still on his knees as he continues to press his kisses against her skin. this part of the explanation though, sends a shiver down his own spine as he recollects the reality of the situation. his star might not be okay, and he doesn't know what to do to cure her, except to just protect her. pulling his eyes away from her, he whimpers and presses his forehead against her abdomen. "i'm just scared."

the prince of philos is on his knees. a man with enough power to rule a planet, but in his eyes, that will all go to shame - rendered useless - if he can't find a way to save her.

"i understand that you don't feel comfortable with telling me what's going on.. but i know that it's not good. i don't know how to make you feel better, so i figured at least, i could do my best to keep you from harms away." he feels her fingers comb through his blonde locks, and he impossibly nuzzles closer to her, his arms tightening around her torso. "if you tell me what i can do, my love, i'll do it."

"i swear to you. tell me what i can do. tell me what you need, and i'll travel a million times around the world for it."

[mybelovedfleur]

,,𝐵𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶" 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝐼

(Yandere!Silco x Amnesiac!Fem!Reader)

!TW! FantasyAU! Heavy Yandere Themes, Silco is ooc for sure, vomiting, sick!reader, violence, mention of death, violence, dark yandere, I will tag every chapter seperately! :)

Description: ,, A series of unfortunate events causes you to completely lose your memory. Now, you find yourself thrust into the role of the Duchess of Zaun, married to a man you don’t recognize. But was this ever truly your life? And why does the scent of blood cling to you, no matter where you go? "

Note: english is NOT my first language, I am very much open for critique and suggestions but pls be nice and respectful :c I DO NOT support any of these behaviors!

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

Silco leaned over you, concern in his eyes, as if the slightest sign of your pain hurt him just as much. He carefully adjusted the pillow so that you could comfortably rest your injured head on it.

"Do you feel worse? Should I get a doctor?" he whispered with tension in his voice, the trembling note betraying how much he cared about your health.

You haven't shown the slightest interest in leaving your bed all morning - a completely different behavior from your determination yesterday.

No wonder Silco noticed it right away. Seeing that you didn't even try to get up to eat breakfast, he became clearly worried. From that moment on, he constantly circled you like a tireless bee, trying to help you in every way possible. Instead of comforting you, his excessive concern began to irritate you - it was the first time he seemed so burdensome. You were overwhelmed by the dark memories of the nightmare that still weighed on your mind, and Silco didn't give you a moment's respite to simply delve into your own thoughts.

,,I feel like I always do, I just don't have the strength. It's nothing serious" you said, finally trying to calm him down. But Silco didn't look convinced. His gaze wandered over your body, as if stubbornly searching for something that could betray you

,,I have an important meeting today... " he whispered under his breath, clearly to himself, but you heard it clearly. You didn't have time to say anything, because his gaze fell roght back on your face.

,, It doesn't matter" he said in a confident tone, his voice firm" I'll stay with you"

If you had more strength, and the wound on the back of your head wasn't throbbing with irritating pain, you would have surely jumped up.

"No, please..." you said pleadingly, staring at him. "I don't want to be a burden again. You hardly leave my side anyway"

Silco froze for a moment, as if your words had hurt him more than he would like to admit. When he finally spoke, his tone was unexpectedly serious.

"Don't ever say that again" he said firmly.

You sighed, feeling the weight of guilt gripping your heart."I just don't want to stop you," you began quietly, struggling to gather your thoughts. 

"I want to prove to both of us that I can handle myself, even in times like these. If you go to this meeting... I'll be truly happy"

Silco stood up and began to pace nervously around the room, you could almost hear the grinding of his teeth. His hand involuntarily went to the scarred side of his face, which he rubbed as if trying to quell the growing frustration. You waited tensely, holding your breath, wondering if your words had angered him.

"The servants are well trained" he finally said, his voice full of reluctance, as if each word was difficult for him. "They know what to do. Don't hesitate to send for me if something happens, or if you simply need me."

His gaze finally met yours.

"I'll drop everything and come to you" he added with such intensity that you had no doubts about the sincerity of his words.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─ 

It wasn't like you hadn't noticed the estate workers before – they were there, but rather like shadows moving in the background, silently carrying out your husband's orders. They were the ones who helped you with more intimate activities, such as changing or washing. Although it made things easier for you, you quickly noticed that Silco approached this matter with clear reluctance.

When you first asked for a new nightgown and the opportunity to wash up, he fulfilled your wish almost immediately. However, his reaction to this request exceeded your expectations - before you knew it, he was already filling the bathtub with water, sitting you on the stool next to it. When with unwavering determination he wanted to help you take off your clothes, you felt your face immediately turn red like a beetroot.

Embarrassed, you calmly asked him to let you do it yourself. His expression was hard to read - as if he was fighting with his thoughts. From that moment on, he waited for you outside the bathroom door, visibly anxious and even outraged whenever one of the servants helped you with something that he felt should have been his role.

 Now, you had a real chance to make contact with them, maybe even have a short conversation. Up until now, everything you knew about your life had come from Silco's mouth. His stories, while very romantic, were undoubtedly tinged with his feelings, perhaps even idealized – which was no surprise, considering the way he was devoted to his role as your loving husband.

The prospect of hearing something about yourself from an outsider, someone who wasn't emotionally attached to you, seemed almost exciting. It could be a chance to look at your life from a different perspective – and perhaps discover something new about yourself.

You were being looked after by three women: two middle-aged and one clearly younger. They were all dressed in impeccably ironed black uniforms that emphasized their professionalism. They moved around you with mechanical precision – their movements were so perfect and synchronized that they almost resembled some sort of machines. Silco wasn't exaggerating when he said that they were highly trained.

 Your ambitious plans to start a conversation didn't go so well at first. You were too nervous, and their distant attitude only increased your embarrassment.

It was only when the younger girl was left alone in the room to change the sheets on the bed that you felt it was the right moment to speak up. So you broke through, saying the first words

"What's your name?" you asked, trying to make your voice sound natural, although you yourself felt slightly embarrassed. The girl, noticeably surprised, stopped for a moment, as if wondering what she should do, whether to answer you at all.

 A moment of silence passed, which seemed to last forever, before finally, with a nervousness in her voice, she answered

"Erin, my lady"  she somehow radiated a warmth that immediately worked in your favor, and you felt your self-confidence begin to grow.

"Erin" you repeated. 

You noticed how the girl visibly relaxed, and a delicate, almost shy smile appeared on her face.

"Tell me, how long have you been working here?" she put down the pillow she was working on and finally turned her full attention to you.

"Only a month, Ma'am" she replied. As soon as you heard her words, you sighed with resignation.

"The entire staff has been here for a month" she added quickly. At these words, you looked up, and your eyes narrowed in a sign of dissatisfaction and suspicion.

"How so?"

The girl, now clearly regretting speaking, began nervously adjusting her uniform.

"The Duke replaced the entire staff after your accident," she explained quickly, as if these words were supposed to calm the situation, although they had the opposite effect.

You wanted to ask for details, for reasons, for what exactly had happened, but before you could say anything, the door flew open. One of the older women entered the room with a silver tray full of medicines.

The older woman gave the girl a reprimanding look that was telling enough for the young maid to immediately return to her work, lowering her gaze like a guilty child.

When the servants finished their duties, both women bowed low and asked if you needed anything else. You forced yourself to briefly deny it, even though your thoughts were screaming to stop them and force out more information. A moment later, the door closed behind them, leaving you alone in the room, again.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─ 

By the end of the day, your strength had returned, at least enough to get out of bed and sit on the edge. You still felt a slight weakness in your legs, but the knowledge that at least you had managed to overcome your constant fatigue was comforting. On the nightstand stood a silver tray of medicines – the same tablets whose bitter taste made you nauseous, and whose effects locked you in a numbing fog. You looked at them with reluctance, the dark purple – almost black liquid standing in the cup almost made you nauseous by its very sight. A decision was made in your head – not now. You would use this moment, when your body finally did not betray you, and Silco did not hover nearby like a guard watching over a prisoner.

Without the constant feeling of sleepiness, you finally felt like your thoughts were your own—clear, clear, unencumbered by the fog of medication. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could look at your situation clearly. For days, weeks, maybe even longer, you felt like Silco had not only taken control of your life, but also of what you thought and felt. His words, his presence, even his care—all seemed to shape your reality.

But now, as that grip eased, the truth began to weigh on you, something here was wrong. The situation you found yourself in was far from normal, no matter how beautifully Silco tried to present it. There were too many of his versions of events in this story, his sweet promises, his comfortable half-truths. And the answers you were desperately searching for? There were none. There were only gaps, silence, and then his narrative again. You could see it clearly now—and it was that clarity of mind that made the weight of it all seem unbearable.

You knew that if you wanted to regain even a shred of sanity, you had to get out of this room—this claustrophobic prison where everything seemed to reek of control. You wanted to feel the fresh air, to touch the earth in the garden that had only existed for you as a view through closed, unyielding windows.

But you couldn't. Your body was betraying you, just as it had been betraying you all these days. You knew that if you tried, your legs would give out and you would eventually collapse to the floor—helpless, weak, unable to even get up. The arms that should have held you up would fail. Your imagination showed you the image of Silco entering the room, of you lying there—motionless, completely defenseless, yet more proof that you should have listened to his commands.

The thought squeezed you from the inside, and the frustration you had tried to suppress surged like a wave. You felt the stinging tears welling up in your eyes, the helplessness choking you in your throat. You yearned for freedom so much, but you were a prisoner of your own body.

As if all that wasn't enough, you still felt the weight of your nightmare from today, never leaving you. It lingered in the back of your mind like a persistent shadow, blurry but still clear enough to send shivers down your spine. There was something disturbingly familiar about the nightmare, something that wouldn't leave you alone.

Raised voices could be heard from behind the door leading to Silco's office. They were muffled, but their tone indicated that this was no ordinary conversation - it was an argument. You easily recognized one of the voices as Silco's. The other voice, however, was unfamiliar to you, although unlike your husband, he didn't care about the volume of his tone, probably not knowing that someone on the other side could hear them, the words were still too distorted for you to understand anything.

Your eyes automatically went to the tray of medicines, and then to the door leading to the office. Common sense told you to stay in bed, but something else - curiosity, anxiety, maybe even instinct - told you to act. Pushing aside all logical thoughts, you slowly shifted on the bed, trying to get closer to the source of the sound. However, despite your efforts, the voices were still indistinct, and frustration grew inside you.In a burst of courage—or perhaps mad stupidity—you decided to do something more. 

You grabbed the bed frame, bracing your shaking hands on it, and struggled to your feet. The wall was your only support as you took your first step toward the door.

When you reached your destination, your heart started beating faster, but this time not from the effort, but from relief. You made it – for the first time, you had crossed the entire room without anyone's help. But that feeling of pride only lasted a moment, because suddenly you heard the slam of the office door and quick footsteps, clearly heading your way. Your heart froze in your chest. You didn't have time to back up or think about what to do. 

The door opened abruptly, almost hitting you in the face. You were leaning against the door frame and the handle to keep your balance, but the sudden movement took away all of your support. The world around you blurred, and you felt yourself starting to fall. Before you could touch the floor, you felt strong hands grab you at the last moment. 

The grip was firm, almost too strong, you looked up and looked straight into Silco's eyes, which shone with something between surprise and irritation. His face was drawn, as if he was fighting to keep from exploding with anger, but you could clearly see the shadow of concern that was breaking through his mask of composure.

"What are you doing?" he hissed quietly, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and concern.

Silco wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, so that your faces were almost at the same level. You felt his hands grip your waist tightly, holding you in place as if to make sure you didn't disappear from his field of vision. His gaze was intense, piercing, but you avoided it, lowering your gaze and whispering barely audibly:

"I heard noises outside the door... I got scared" your voice was shaking. Silco narrowed his eyes, then looked away, glancing over your shoulder as if searching for something behind you. But that only lasted a moment. His gaze quickly returned to you - now full of irritation, and his expression changed as if someone had turned off the mask of composure he always wore.

"Why didn't you take your medicine?" he asked, anger growing in his voice.

 "Why are you trying so hard to disobey me?!" before you could say anything, his hands moved to your shoulders, gripping them tightly, his voice growing increasingly tense. Before you could protest, you felt him shake your body. Not hard, but enough to force you to look him in the eyes. His hands seemed to desperately hold you to him, as if they were trying to force you into obedience. 

"Look at me" he growled, his voice shaking, but it wasn't just anger anymore. There was something else in his eyes, behind the facade of anger - fear.

Your gaze remained fixed on your hands clasped on his torso, however, Silco clearly had no intention of waiting for your reaction. In a burst of frustration and desperation, his hand moved to the back of your head, grabbing a spot that had not yet healed. Before you could react, he forced you to lift your head and look him straight in the eye.

Pain exploded like fire, spreading throughout your body, and a sudden, suffering cry escaped your lips. Silco froze, as if he had only just realized what he had done. His hand immediately let go of your head, and the rest of your body recoiled in terror, it was enough for your tired legs to give out. You fell to the floor, with nothing to hold on to.

For several long seconds, Silco stood motionless, as if what had happened was unreal to him. His gaze, filled with anger a moment ago, now seemed as if something inside him had snapped.

As you lifted your gaze, trying to catch your breath and control the pain, something about the image before you seemed strangely familiar. Silco stood still, his silhouette silhouetted against the warm glow of the dying fire in the fireplace, but your eyes could no longer focus on the details. The tears that had welled up in your eyes began to blur reality, and you felt as if the room had suddenly become dark.

You blinked once, then twice, and the image before you changed. Instead of a room, you saw something that resembled a scene from a nightmare. Silco stood before you in the rain, his clothes soaked through, drops running down the material in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic pace.

The entire figure seemed to be taken from another world, yet terrifyingly real at the same time. The only thing that remained clear in this illusion was his injured eye. It glowed in the darkness like a cursed light.

You didn't know if it was a memory, a hallucination caused by the pain, or something more. But one thing was certain - at that moment the line between reality and nightmare began to blur, and you felt like you were drowning in this darkness, the epicenter of which was him.

You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your shaking hands. Tears flowed steadily, hot and stinging, as if burning paths into your skin. The pain, both physical and mental, seemed to take over every aspect of your existence.

"Drink," you heard suddenly, his voice hard, almost impervious to argument.

Before you could protest, you felt Silco lift you off the floor. His movements were surprisingly gentle, though you could feel his hands shaking.

Before you knew what was happening, a silver goblet touched your lips. The dark liquid, the sharp smell of which filled your nostrils, was thick, viscous, its bitter taste immediately hit your taste buds, almost causing a gag reflex, but Silco didn't stop

"Drink" he repeated, this time more insistently, and his free hand held your face, not letting you turn away

You felt the liquid pour into your mouth, and he forced you to swallow. His hand, although shaking, was unwavering, and his gaze was focused on only one thing, regardless of your protests.

When he finally moved the cup away from your lips, you felt the remnants of the liquid run down your chin, leaving a sticky trail on your skin. A few dark drops landed on your nightgown, staining the delicate material.

Your body began to betray you – weakened and tired, unable to fight any longer. Your head fell limply, and Silco gently supported it and placed it on his lap. His touch, although full of anger a moment ago, now seemed almost tender.

You felt a piece of his shirt wipe your face. It was a rough, yet surprisingly caring attempt to wipe away the tears, the traces of liquid, and the pain that seemed to be etched into your skin. His gestures were mechanical, as if he was trying to recreate something a loving husband should do.

Your eyelids began to close, heavy with fatigue and tears. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his presence surrounding you, although you didn't feel safe at all. It was more than resignation – it was capitulation to fate, to him.

─ ⊹ ⊱ -'♡'- ⊰ ⊹ ─

Taglist: @missbeeentertainment

Notes: I'm sorry if there is a lot of mistakes, I was writing it on my phone which has a polish auto correction, and I do not know how to turn it off :( Thank you so so so much for all your love and support, every time I see a notification I feel so grateful for every one of you! Thank you so much and hopefully see you again! <3

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part:𝟷𝟸

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 4624

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

It was quite the struggle to train with Ben for a week, especially when he took it extremely seriously and pushed you to the very limit. It was not that he hurt you; it was that in the lab you either lost your will to fight or you just got really weak.

There were moments when you stated to Ben that things might get serious about your power, but he chose to ignore you and aggravated the training, which left you worn out. But you were relieved that he could, in his own irritating way, encourage you that your strength was still there.

Ben answered, “No,” right away when you wanted to stop the exercise.

Right now, the entire home was a mess, and the hole you had made in the wall remained.

“I'm tired here, Ben,” you complained as you fell to the ground, gasping for air. You had been there exercising together since the morning, and it was nearly the sun going down. Except when you needed to eat or pee, he rarely gave you a moment's peace of mind. “I mean it. I'm done.” 

You opened your hands wide on the ground, and he looked at your body while saying, “You're a supe; you can't just feel exhausted that easily.”

You blushed as you noticed him staring at your soaked entire body and replied, “Give me some break.” There's a good chance that you were both thinking the same thing. “How on earth can you find that much energy? Even for a supe, it's too much.”

Ben stared at you and then took off the shirt he had taken off hours earlier, wiping the sweat from his muscular chest. You grimaced, knowing you probably smelled like trash. 

“It's because I am the strongest; I am not just any average Supe.” With the most arrogant way possible, he threw his t-shirt back to the ground and said, “Simply better and more powerful than anyone. But don't worry; we'll return you to the way things were, sweetie. You have my word.”

He gave you a sneaky smirk when he saw you staring at his broad, sweat-damp chest. Ben was waiting for you, literally, from above, all the time you tried to get some rest. His eyes narrowed, and you suspected his head was full of filthy stuff. 

You just muttered, “I hope so,” and avoided giving him a glance as you closed your eyes.

He sighed and went down on the floor next to you, crossing his big arms over his head. 

“Don't think about it that much. You're going to do even better than you are now. Maybe we should just do those trainings more frequently. What do you say?”

“It’s fine. I don’t have another choice anyway,” you replied, cutting it short while keeping your eyes closed. Even if you felt his intense stare on your face, you didn’t react. “What did the doctor tell you, by the way? The one who supervised Compound V's improvement for decades?”

You remembered that there was a lot of discussion following the news that Ben had killed him at his home. You kind of hoped you could have dealt with that cruel piece of shit on your own, though. He was just a monster with a white robe. He had always made an aggressive attempt to cause damage to you and showed no sympathy or compassion for anyone. You got scared and insecure when you opened your eyes, recalling the physical harm he had inflicted. 

“Fucking piece of shit!” Ben angrily exclaimed, his fists clenched over his head. “I should have killed him properly.” 

“What did he say, so you blew up?” 

“Isn't it obvious? That pussy told me how little supes are in the big picture of science, the future of the supremes, humanity, and some other bullshit. It's certain that Vough paid that cocksucker generously during all those years. He lived in luxury, torturing us, and he didn’t even regret it.”

“Did he tell you what kind of research he did on my body?” You asked as you moved your body to face him. 

Ben fell silent for a minute, enraged by what he remembered the doctor had said about you. Nevertheless, his eyes softened as he saw your expression and saw that you were excited to hear what he was about to say and that you were feeling at ease and comfortable next to him. That was all he needed. Ben recognized that if he made a determined attempt to be by your side and touch you in the way he desired, you would push him even further away and that you weren't

ready for physical contact at this time. He therefore forced himself to keep his distance from you and let you do whatever you wanted.

He just turned to face you and stated, “I didn't give him enough time to talk,” straightening his posture and sitting straight up on the floor. “He's just an animal, and he sees supes as rats for research in order to make profit. That's all.”

“When we agreed to live this life as supers, Ben, we already knew that.” You said bitterly, “People in charge always wanted to play with us like we were toys. They used us as they pleased and needed us for their own good. I wanted to leave the company for a number of reasons, one of which was that I was unaware of how serious that whole picture was. What I need to learn is what they succeeded in doing during the decades we were unconscious and at their mercy.”

Ben sighed and got up to get some weed from the nearest table, just after helping you off the floor.

“I was told by that son of a bitch that he examined you to make the future supers flawless. Though I'm not really sure what he meant, it seems to me that Queen Maeve—the woman from Seven—is their new you.”

“Do you think they might have found a way to weaken me? Don't say 'no' right away,” you said in a hurry when he opened his lips to object. “It just doesn't feel right about what's going on and everything.”

Your concerns, which were constantly lurking beneath the surface, took over when you realized that Ben had remained silent. Something was off with you, you two sensed that. Although after your first training day you felt a little stronger, your weakness remained under your skin.

You pulled open a window to let some fresh air in and muttered, “If you hadn't just killed the doctor, we could have learned about it.”

Ben offered you one of the glasses and sighed as if he regretted what he had done, filling the other one with wine. “I didn't intentionally kill him. It simply happened beyond my control. But I would still murder him anyway.”

You raised an eyebrow and sat down, realizing that your tiredness was taking over. “You need to find a way to control it since your nerves are always on edge,” you said. “And also, I need to find someone who can understand all of this.”

Ben sat beside you, stretching his muscles and leaning back into the coach while he listened to you attentively. As you spoke, you noticed that your gaze lingered a little too long on his sweating body, almost making you flush. 

He studied your expression to see how you would react to his suggestion. He said, “I guess the best option is to kidnap or torture a doctor who is in charge or fuckever who's doing supe studies for Vought right now. We can use Mindstorm to look at your memories and thoughts to see whether they have hurt you in any way.”

His suggestion caused your eyes to widen with excitement, and you exclaimed, “That's actually a smart idea. But how are we supposed to find him?”

“Remember the new technology, sweetheart. Anything is possible with these phones, Bluetooth, and GPS technology. Remember how I found you very easily?”

You gave a nod to him, knowing that what he stated was right and that you would be able to reach Mindstorm with ease thanks to modern technology.

After you had your shower, you saw Ben watching the TV with a dead serious face, and you sat beside him.

As you used the towel in your hand to dry your damp hair, you inquired, “Is there any news about us? Almost a week has passed.”

“Not much,” he replied as he continued to listen to Homelander talk about the two of you.

‘They pose no threat to the United States,’ Homelander confidently stated, grinning, as he extended his arms and turned to face the screen. 'As Seven, we've been trying to find them for a week, but it looks like they are hiding pretty well,' he continued. I, Homelander, the Seven's leader, swear to you that they shall answer for their actions. It has been proven that Soldier Boy rescued Y/N, and it's very likely that the two of them murdered the hapless doctors as well as every lab employee in cold blood and without hesitation.'

You and Ben exchanged a look as Homelander continued his speech. ‘Their families and children are in agony even though our government gives them the best care they can. These two criminals are responsible for the deaths of the orphans whose parents they killed. It breaks our hearts to see them weeping and grieving the loss of their families. There are even toddlers among them. Soldier Boy and Y/N will be held liable and made to pay for the harm they caused to the United States and its citizens. They have little time to conceal; they cannot get away.’

As the audience gave him a loud applause and he flew opening his arms out like.

Ben angrily said, “Fuck that. Son of a bitch,” and threw the remote control onto the table in front of him. “They were just another piece of shits who enjoyed torturing supes, nothing else.”

“But I didn't kill anyone,” you mumbled. “We are past the point of self-justification. Homelander is basically controlling the crowds. They would never pay to listen to us, Ben.”

Ben stared at the TV and said, “I'll teach them how to listen,” in a menacing manner. “You see? It's no longer about Butcher and his useless group. It has to do with our future.”

You could have argued with him about the future, but all you wanted was to avoid getting into another fight with Ben. 

“I think such a guy wouldn't be innocent at all. We might be able to defeat the company if we can figure out how to properly express ourselves, explain to them how Vought tricked us, and show the real Homelander to the rest of the world. There isn't another way.”

 “I know, I know,” he muttered.

As you could tell Ben was becoming enraged and feeling overwhelmed, you touched his bare chest, which had a little glow to it. “Hey, are you okay?”

He responded with, “I am,” placing his hand on yours and giving you a gentle squeeze. 

“Can you please stop getting angry for a second? I can sense the heat building in your chest.” You muttered, “You're stressing me out here,” but you didn't remove your hand from his upper body. You could feel him cooling down beneath your touch once again. It was fine as long as it worked; you simply didn't know why. 

“Well,” he said, arching an eyebrow, licking his lips, allowing you to touch him, and gently tracing his fingers over yours. His powerful, slow beats were calming in a way. “It's not too bad. Is it?” 

You withdrew your hand from his sweating chest while rolling your eyes at him and making sure he was okay. 

Ben had just showered when Butcher and Hughie showed up at the house. 

Butcher remarked in a sly manner, “Glad, I delayed for an hour coming here to pick up you two,” as you and Ben got into the back of the car. “We could have interrupted something funny, judging by the all-wet hairs and all.”

“We were just finished training there!” you exclaimed, your face heated. 

“It must be very good training, indeed. The entire fucking house was damaged like hell. You two spent a whole week all showering and training while we were dealing with the shit Soldier Boy caused.”

“Sorry for that, but it's not what you think, really.”

“I thought Soldier Boy and Crimson were having a relationship. Yet life goes on, don't they? There are always new, fine chickens and dolls all around.” Butcher smirked at Ben.

You were ready to add something about Ben and you having nothing to do, but Ben became enraged right away when Butcher brought up the Crimson Countess. 

“Don't you fucking know how to stay silent and shut your useless mouth?” Butcher was obviously enjoying himself when he suddenly made Ben mad. 

“What made you so furious now? Have I said anything untrue?” 

Hughie leaned back in his seat and said, “Butcher, stop that,” sounding distressed as Ben continued to swear at them both and told Hughie to make Buther to suck him soon, so his mouth would be filled enough not to talk stupid.

“Why even do you become irate out of nowhere? After all, you murdered the poor woman.”

You looked up at Ben, asking with disbelief, “What? Why did you even kill Countess?”

The fact that Ben never brought it up startled you even more than Butcher's statement, as though it were nothing important. You were stunned and shocked beyond belief. At that point, you were at a loss for what to think. You were not sympathetic to her, though. After all, Vought used her as a cunning evil to harm both you and Ben. She was the one who paid you a visit in order to deceive you that day. 

He tried to convince you immediately, giving you a gentle look as if he wanted you to understand what he had done. “She deserved whatever I've done,” he defended himself. 

You acknowledged, “I know she did. But why?”

He looked at Butcher and then turned to face you, almost whispering, “Let's discuss this at a later time. All right?”

You found Annie nowhere to be found when you got to Butcher's home, where only Kimiko and Frenchie were inside. Kimiko watched Frenchie play with his phone, seeming bored.

“Why did it take so long for you to come here?” Frenchie inquired in an irritated manner to Butcher. “You give me too much to deal with, though you know I have things to do. Kimiko is also exhausted.”

Butcher sarcastically remarked, “Hello to you too, baby,” as he removed his coat. “I have not even once heard a complaint from her; she is an incredible Supe. She can't possibly be exhausted, right, doll?”

Ben moved you over to the edge of the coach and sat by you, resting his legs on the table, just as you were about to strike up a conversation with Kimiko. You were fine with him being close, though, so you said nothing at all. In fact, if you were honest with yourself enough, you would admit that his behavior around you somewhat comforted you. 

“Kimiko and I have spent days looking for Black Noir and Queen Maeve, but we haven't made any progress so far. It's strange that they were absent from everything for so long. You see, something isn't quite right. According to Starlight, they have vanished.”

“The fuck you mean they are missing?” Butcher asked in disbelief.

“Why would Noir would go missing? It's not his thing to disappear,” you said. You thought you were thinking to yourself, but you had said it loud.

“He must have ran away when he saw us back together,” Ben said in am amused tone. “He fucking knows I'm going to kill him too. He’s a fucking dead man.”

You told Ben, “There must be a reason,” ignoring the way he talked about taking Earving's life. Right now, you don't need to see Ben being enraged over Noir and losing his temper again. 

“How the fuck doesn't Starlight know where Queen Maeve is?” Butcher questioned Hughie. 

Hughie took his head in his hands and responded, “She thinks Homelander did something to her. Maybe he killed Maeve.”

“How about Ninja Cunt, though? He is known as Homelander's right wing. Suppose he murdered Maeve. What about Noir?”

Frenchie remarked, “That's what I'm trying to understand,” and Kimiko communicated with him using sign language swiftly. 

“All right, we'll watch out for this and see if he shows up again.” Butcher ended it quickly and continued. “Tomorrow, Soldier Boy and I are heading to New York.”

You eyed Butcher with suspicion, asking, “Why and why not me?” 

“You two stayed at a lovely house for a week, for God’s sake. Aren't all of the showers enough? Is it not possible for you to separate for even a single day? Would you really miss this cunt that much?”

As Butcher continued to make assumptions about you and Ben, your face heated. Kimiko and Frenchie turned to face you in harmony, taken aback. 

“You're just making the wrong assumptions.” You distanced yourself from Ben and explained, “It's not like that,” acting as though you had been proven guilty. Ben didn't appear to be supportive when you stared at him, yet it seemed as though he was okay with Butcher's comments. “What I want to know is what you're going to be doing here and why I have to stay here.”

“Yes, doll. To catch up with your old friend TNT Twins, we are going to join Herogasm. It's almost like we have to clear your names first. Maybe they know anything about the specifics of those events from decades ago, and they could say something that we could use against Vought. Though things might get messy soon, don't you worry, I'm going to keep an eye on your soldier so that he won't be pouding into any supe cunt there,” he said with a wicked smile.

Ben said, “Maybe we can also find a thing about Mindstorm there,” giving you a meaningful glance and a small touch on the arm before you could respond. You nodded to him. 

“However, why must I stay here?”

“Kimiko needs to get some work done, and we need more muscle to help Frenchie and Hughie here. Let's don't take too much attention.”

“Okay,” you said, acknowledging the situation and giving up on further arguments. Herogasm was something you've always detested and loathed. Ben, the founder of it, was making it even worse. Yet the one thing about Ben's inconsistent anger—the energy in his chest—that scared you was his unpredictable temper. You weren't sure if he could find a way to control it soon enough. 

You questioned Hughie, “By the way, where is Annie?” As a member of Vought and Seven, you were aware of how difficult it must be to handle the entire company's evil by yourself. 

“I don't think she'll find Maeve anytime soon, but she's doing some research in order to locate her. She seemed to have disappeared in a heartbeat.”

You figured she was kind of involved in this too, based on the way they talked about her. 

Ben abruptly stood up and stated, “I guess all the rooms are full. So, which room are Y/N and I staying in tonight?”

“Not full,” Hughie smiled in response. “I suppose there are now two available rooms since I will be seeing Annie tonight.” 

Kimiko nodded quickly as she gave a smile to you.

Ben's expression darkened as Hughie continued to tell him and Annie that they would not be staying in this house any longer, while Ben quietly cursed. He glanced at you for a moment, but you ignored him and asked Kimiko to show you the room where you would be sleeping. 

After an hour of inspecting the room and all of the furniture within, you heard a light knock on the door and knew it was Ben.

After a minute, you said, “Come in,” startled that Ben was holding back, opening the door this time without your permission. 

He whispered, “As you wish, baby,” and carefully shut the door behind him. 

In the dim light, his hair fell over his forehead, and his white t-shirt made your heart melt just a bit. Under his large arms, his t-shirt was too tight. Perhaps you weren't used to seeing him in his regular clothes, which is why you were still excited when you were around him. 

“What now?” you muttered as you sat on the bed and observed him approach you. 

He joked, “Don't get excited; I'm just here to make some conversation,” and sat down next to you right away. 

You said, almost in a whisper, “Which is about?” while he briefly studied your body.

His darkened eyes lingered on your revealing nightgown, but you remained silent, intensifying the tension in the moment. 

Ben's desire to force your body to the covers, get on top of you, take off your sweatpants, and get you ready for some post-breakup fucking was unbearable. He was well aware that you never touched yourself when you were by yourself in the house, and that really disturbed him because he knew that he was the reason for it. Ben could tell by the way you looked at him and by the beating in your heart that your body still yearned for him, but he also understood that he had to rebuild your trust in every way. He had to take care of his meat by hand up until that point. 

After sighing and searching for the right words, Ben uttered, “About the thing I told you that we can discuss later.” He made an effort not to speak about Crimson bitch right away. She was the reason your nerves were already fragile. He had no reason to blame you for it. 

As he attempted to read how you were feeling, you questioned in a cold voice, “Why did you kill her? Was it unintentional?” 

You were curious as to whether he truly intended to murder her or if this was just another unintentional incident similar to the others. You needed to comprehend it, even though you didn't know why it mattered. 

After a while, he said, “I blew up,” and when you realized he hadn't done it on purpose to exact vengeance for you, your posture straightened. 

Ben said, “I was just trying to get information about you and your location before killing her,” as soon as he saw the look on your face. “I was cautious to do anything until she had spoken about you. But I was unable to control myself when she touched my nerves.”

“Did you kill her just because she was unfaithful?” You questioned him suspiciously, attempting to make sense of his motivations. Ben might tell you the truth or a lie, but you would still listen to him even if you weren't sure he would be completely honest with you. “In the end, it's her who deceived you. Whether Vought commanded her or not is important. She was the one who brought you there so they could capture you and then transport you to Russia.”

After pausing to comprehend what you were asking, Ben responded, “I would kill her anyway because of what she had done to both of us,” as if he had no idea how to answer properly. “Especially to you.” 

You said, your eyes softening with sorrow, “I wonder what you would do to me if I were the one to trick you, Ben,” knowing that, after all these years, loyalty was what mattered most to him. “Even if I had every right to do so.” 

“I would never hurt you,” he abruptly rejected, emphasizing each word in a hard voice. “I knew I would deserve it anyway.”

“I'm not so sure of that, Ben,” you said. “You're even more dangerous considering I'm getting weaker and you're ready to blow up anytime.” 

His smile expanding, he added, “Hey, don't say such things,” took one of your hands, placed it on his warm chest, and whispered, “You have every power over me.”

Under his focused gaze, your face flushed, and after a moment, you reluctantly withdrew your hand. 

“So, you're going to Herogasm tomorrow?” you said, attempting to change the topic. “Given how difficult it was to persuade you not to join decades earlier, you must have missed it quite a lot.” 

“Are you feeling jeaolus?” he asked with a mischievous smile, and you grimaced. 

“Why should I be? I'm just saying you might have missed the chance to join the party that you organized after all this time.”

“I'm not going there to fuck, baby; I'm not interested anymore,” he murmured, retaining an arrogant chuckle. “I'm going to call you when I get there.”

“I'm not sure.” You said to quit talking about Herogasm anymore. “I might be busy to pick up when you call.” Herogasm was the world's dumbest thing, especially since Ben founded it. 

“Why may be you even busy, anyway?” This time Ben uttered serious words: “I'll call you nonstop, so keep your phone with you every moment.”

You responded with the same heedlessness, “I might.” 

Ben smiled playfully and narrowed his eyes. “Since you too need to take care of yourself, it will actually be good for us to be apart for just a small amount of time.”

You naively asked, “About what?” as though he would make a crucial point. 

“You might as well relax on this bed while I'm away because I’m pretty aware of you're not touching yourself, knowing I'd hear you in a second, huh?”

You became the deepest shade of scarlet in your cheeks and murmured, “I can't believe you.”

“I'm not making fun,” he declared with seriousness. “It is also a bodily necessity. You don't have to reject playing with yourself a bit. Being the reason is something that irritates me a lot.”

“I don't feel ashamed of taking care of myself because of you or anything else,” you immediately argued, ignoring the heat on your cheeks. “I have no problem touching myself while you're here. It's not all that important.” 

Ben arched an eyebrow at your quick, brave, “If you say so,” followed by a sigh. 

“I'm serious here, Ben,” you continued, growing agitated by his haughty demeanor and enormous ego. “I'll prove it.”

He studied your figure and growled in a low voice, “I won't promise that I won't focus on you or listen to the way you sound.”

“Then don't.”

Next Chapter

⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋆☆⋅⋆

A/N: Comments and reblogs are appreciated very much.  They keep me going. ♡˚.

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynew @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @certifiedhaters @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909 @stoneyggirl @cheynovak @libby99hb @moneyburner @jenn-777q @hey-there0-0  @purplerosequartz @shadowghoul2525 @darkqueen1995 @simpin4pixels @deebris @spideybv28

[caledine]

Types of whumpees in a team

( This is just a few, lmk if you can think of more c:<)

Youngest teammate Whumpee

You get your reckless and brash whumpees who’d who’d do anything to prove themselves

Unknowledgeable new to the field

“ I can do it, on my own.”

Angry and defiant till their hurt

Trying to act tough but just people pleasers

Being left behind for ‘safety’ and probably the easiest to break

“ it’s for your own good Whumpee. It’s not safe out there.” queue them getting captured from said place that’s deemed safe

Stupid plans?? Youngest learns just how bad not thinking things through results in

Doing things due to pure peer pressure

A go to hostage since team would fight tooth and nail to get them back (?)

Always doing busywork and never on the field

“ I have done everything from making coffee to doing your laundry— How is this hero work? “

Being deemed not strong enough

Medic/ Doctor whumpees

Either stoic or overly doting

Exhausted from caring to much

Just exhaustion whump in general !!

Always the caretaker and never taken care of

Full ER / too many patients

Natural disaster or a horrible fight leaving them swamped with injured teammates ( maybe they’re hurt too)

“ I know everyone’s hurt— hold on i need a second…”

Getting hurt and knowing just how doomed they are

Using all the good supplies on the team and leaving themselves with ‘alternatives’

Trying to talk other members through healing themself, knowing if they faint they are as good as dead

Does your Medic snap?

“ How many times have i told you to be more careful?! every single time your in my office you’ve brushed death again—“ ( Angry or worried?)

Stitching themself up because they think they have the knowledge to keep themselves healthy too ( knowledge ≠ strength to save themselves )

Second in command/ Right hand ( Could be a sidekick?) Whumpee

A glorified PA juggling all the ‘less important’ tasks or running errands

Never getting the authority / leadership they want over the team

Always picking up everyone else’s slack

Paperwork and all the busywork and never getting the full credit

Sometimes people are too tired to be nice

Snappy, defiant and never backing down

Always trying to one up other team members or get recognition or affirmation because they never seem to get credit

Stuck in Leader’s shadow

The moment Leader is out everyone expects them to know what to do

“ I don’t know— Leader never let me have any say-?”

Loyal beyond fault ( too much so) maybe they let people be dicks just because they’re teammates

Too forgiving

Maybe Leader sticks the blame on them for failed missions

the perfect stoic whumpee 🌟

Leader Whumpee

Exhaustion, overworking, passing out , thugging through sickness — Leaders normally the one who checks in on people, but who checks in on them?

Putting themselves last

Guilt of failed missions, maybe blame from other teammates

Trying to guide the team while injured ( concussions 😌)

Never really being part of the team just there to keep themselves healthy too in check

Breaking under pressure

Survivors guilt

Being replaced

Leader being held hostage because the team would be in shambles without them

Humiliation— make the team stop believing in them

Self sacrifice

“ I’m sorry i know it’s my responsibility…”

Struggling to ask for help because they’re scared the team won’t come to them

Their life revolves around keeping their team safe, too selfless

The team just expecting them to know what to do

Trying to juggle looking after the team with Hero work

Doing all the chores, being expected to do the most and be selfless

Their higher ups see their overworking as a good thing and feed into it

Everyone just always assumes they’re fine because pfftt they’re Leader of course they’re fine!!

Stoic but pathetic ejenkeosos

Sighhh i just adore team whump. I could always go on about this because the amount of possibilities are near endless. Give me complex relationships between characters!! Make your whumpees suffer while no one around them bats an eye, toxic team dynamics suck but the whump around them… Found family but make it hurt comfort!!

[leiawritesstories]

I Won't Call It Love, Part 2

Find Part 1 here! written for the rowaelin yulemas swap 2024 for @shyvioletcat :))

Word count: 2k

Warnings: swearing, pregnancy & hormones

Enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright.” The doctor tapped away on her laptop for a minute. “Okay, I let the receptionist know that you’ll want to come back in about a week. I tentatively have you down for next Thursday at 10, but you can chat with reception if that time doesn’t work.” 

“Okay.” Calm enough to release her hands, Aelin cleared her throat. “I have a couple of questions for right now, if that’s okay?” 

“Absolutely.” Dr. Towers turned to fully face her. 

Aelin swallowed the lump in her throat. “How…how is this possible?” She twisted the ring around her right forefinger. “I thought I’d been diagnosed with infertility.” 

The doctor nodded slowly. “Well, there’s always a tiny bit of a chance. In your case, you have somewhere around a two percent chance of conceiving naturally, and it seems like that little window lined up just right.” 

“I…oh.” Aelin blinked slowly. “Okay.” On instinct, one hand went to her low belly, fingertips carefully resting atop the skin. “Gods. This is a lot to process.” 

“Of course.” Dr. Towers closed her laptop and rolled back her stool. “Take some time, Aelin. We’ll see you again in about a week, okay?” 

“Sounds good.” Aelin pushed herself up onto her feet and went out to the reception desk, where she confirmed the follow-up appointment for the next week. She went out to her car and just sat there for a while, music playing in the background, staring blankly at the landscaped shrubs in front of her. 

A baby. 

It might make her crazy, but somewhere deep down in her heart, Aelin knew she couldn’t give up this chance. She’d seen glimpses of the devastation her parents hid from her, flickers of their sadness the few times she had asked for a baby sister when she was a child. As she grew older and began to navigate her own fertility problems, she faced the reality that even if she fell in love with someone who she wanted to have a family with, it might not be possible. 

She couldn’t bear to give up the chance now that she had it. 

Her hand hovered over her phone, eventually withdrawing. She had to get home first, get herself to a familiar place where she could break down if the call didn’t go the way she hoped it would. So she finally left the clinic parking lot and drove back home, and once she was inside and wrapped in cozy sweats and a blanket, she tapped Rowan’s contact. 

He picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Fireheart. What’s up?” 

“Rowan, I…” Aelin swallowed the tangle of words. “We need to talk. Can you come over?” 

“Yeah.” Something rustled on his end of the call. “Want me to come over now? I can be there in fifteen minutes.” 

“Okay.” Her voice was small, soft. 

He paused, and she sensed the questions brewing in his mind. “Aelin…are you okay?” 

She let out a shaky breath. “I’ve had a wild day, Ro, and I’m overwhelmed.”

“I’ll be there soon.” Reassurance coated his words. “Do you need to stay on the phone?” 

“I’ll be okay.” She clung to the warmth of his voice. “Drive safe, buzzard.” 

She was still in the same position on her couch fifteen minutes later when her doorbell rang, and it took her some effort to get up and go let her boyfriend in. 

Worry creased his forehead, and he hesitantly reached out and slid his arms around her. “Hey, it’s just me.” 

The tears she’d been holding back broke free and spilled down her cheeks as she melted into his arms. He lifted her off her feet and carried her down to the living room and settled onto the couch, pulling her into his lap. She clung to his solid strength, willing her voice not to shake as she finally lifted her head off his shoulder, met his worried eyes, and whispered, “I’m pregnant.” 

A thousand shades of shock crossed his face. “Aelin…”

Her breath shuddered out. “I saw my doctor today and the test was so positive.” A shaky inhale. “Rowan, I—I haven’t been with anyone else in a long time.” 

Slowly, he nodded, one hand lifting to her face to brush the tears off her cheeks. “It’s okay, Fireheart. We’re gonna be okay.” He swallowed thickly. “Do you know if you want this?” 

“I definitely do.” She surprised herself at how fast her answer came. “I’m seeing my doctor again next week; she gave me some time to think about it. But Ro…I didn’t think I’d get this chance this soon.” She sniffled. “I’m gonna blame you for having magical fucking sperm.” 

That brought a husky laugh out of both of them. A smile curved Rowan’s lips. “You’re sure, then? Because if you want this—if you want our baby—I’m here for you.” 

Tears sprang to Aelin’s eyes again. “I’m sure, Ro. I want this. With you.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “Can you come to the doctor with me next week?” 

~

Aelin touched the curve of her stomach, still not quite used to the feeling of her body stretching and constantly changing even after six months of pregnancy. Since she found out and had her first ultrasound, which put her at around ten weeks, everything had been going fairly smoothly, except for her fucking hormones making her cry every five seconds. Around a month ago, she’d finally worked up the balls to ask Rowan to move in. He’d been nothing but committed to her and Baby Bean, and it was time to stop dancing around the question. 

It was time to stop pretending she could keep anything about him casual. 

“Aelin Galathynius?” The voice broke through her thoughts. 

She stood up, pressing a fist to the small of her back. “Hi. That’s me.” 

“Follow me.” The woman dressed in gray scrubs led Aelin and Rowan down a hallway and into a softly-lit ultrasound room. “Go ahead and get yourself comfortable, Miss Aelin. I’ll be back shortly to get the scan started.” 

Rowan settled into a chair and set Aelin’s coat and shoulder bag on the chair next to him. “Ready to see the baby again?” 

“Yeah.” She smiled as she got herself settled on the exam bed, touching the swell of her belly and feeling the flutter of tiny kicks. “She’s excited to show herself off too.” 

“She?” Rowan raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t we finding out the sex today?” 

Aelin chuckled. “I just have a feeling.” 

The ultrasound tech came back into the room and explained the anatomy scan before telling Aelin to tuck her shirt up. She squeezed gel onto Aelin’s belly and pressed the probe against the skin, scanning, and static flickered on the screen before resolving into a beautifully clear image of the baby, little legs and arms waving. “Baby’s in a good position today,” the tech murmured, clicking away at the keyboard. She took a whole bunch of images, checking baby’s measurements and nodding as she went. “Did you want to know the sex?” 

“Yes.” 

She moved the probe around, and a warm smile lit up her face. “Congratulations! You’re having a girl.” 

Aelin beamed. “I knew it!” Just as quickly, a shade darkened her eyes, but she shook it away. “Get ready for all the cutest little dresses in the world to show up at our house, Ro.” 

“Already ordered her first tutu,” he teased, reaching over to squeeze Aelin’s hand. 

The exam finished up, and after a brief chat with Dr. Towers, Aelin and Rowan left the clinic with a roll of ultrasound images. Aelin was quiet during the drive home, and Rowan noticed but didn’t say anything until they were home. 

“Everything alright?” he asked as he went to put the new ultrasounds up on the fridge. 

“Just thinking.” She took a box of pretzel crisps out of the pantry. “Processing. I’m so excited for our daughter, but…” She shook her head. “Never mind. It’s stupid.” 

“Hey.” He passed her the jar of tzatziki dip she kept in the fridge for her cravings. “It’s not stupid, love.” 

She sighed. “What if she grows up and hates me, Ro?” Tears clouded her vision. “I don’t want to fail her like that.” 

“Fireheart,” he whispered, coming to slide his arms around her, “she won’t.” 

“How do you know?” She sniffled, helpless. “I don’t want to repeat everything my mom did.” 

“You won’t.” He kissed the top of her head. “This worry—the want you have to show our daughter unconditional love—that’s why. She’s always going to know that her mama loves her. Always.” 

Aelin flicked away a stray tear. “I hope so.” 

“I know so.” Rowan cupped her chin in one hand. “Just like I love you, Ae.” 

Her tears crested again. “You can’t be all sweet to a hormonal pregnant lady, buzzard. I’m turning into a mess.” Rising onto her tiptoes, she turned and kissed him. “I love you too.” 

~

“Buzzard.” Aelin poked her boyfriend’s ribs, but he didn’t budge. “Wake up, Ro.” 

He shifted, mumbling incoherently, so she poked him again. His eyes cracked open. “Mornin’, Fireheart. What time is it?” 

She glanced at the clock. “A little after five.” 

“So early,” he mumbled. “You okay?” 

“I—shit.” A contraction gripped her, and she bent over. “Contractions, Ro.” 

He was out of bed in seconds, hurrying to throw on sweatpants and a shirt. “Is it time?” 

Catching her breath, she nodded. “I think so.” She rubbed her stomach. “You ready, baby girl? Mama and Daddy have been waiting for you.” 

“Looks like the inducing worked.” Rowan shot her a devious little wink, and she shook her head and tossed a pillow towards him. He caught it with a smirk. “Bags are already in the car, love.” 

“I know.” She’d packed her hospital bags a few weeks ago and kept them in the back of her car. “Ready, buzzard?” 

“I am.” He slipped his hand into hers. “Let’s go meet our girl.” 

In a hazy blur of hours, they were in the delivery room. Aelin took every contraction in stride, breathing and changing positions and squeezing the fuck out of Rowan’s hands. As soon as she could, she got an epidural, and she was able to rest for a while before her doctor helped her up and told her it was time to push. 

“Nine…ten! Good job, Aelin!” Dr. Towers called. Aelin heaved a breath, her hair sticking to her forehead, and braced herself. “Okay, ready? Push!” 

Aelin strained, gripping the bed frame one one side and Rowan’s hand on the other, and in a blur of noise, a baby’s wail broke through the room. 

“Meet your daughter,” Dr. Towers said, and she laid the squirming baby girl on the blankets spread across Aelin’s chest. 

“Hi, little love,” Aelin breathed, cradling her tiny girl against her chest. “I…oh gods. I can’t believe how gorgeous you are.” Tears spilled down her cheeks as she turned her head to Rowan, who stared wide-eyed at their daughter. “She’s beautiful.” 

“She’s…gods…she…” Rowan coughed. “Fuck. Marry me, Aelin.” 

Laughter bubbled up out of her throat. “How about you try that again when I’m not a hormonal mess, Rowan?” 

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hands down his face, tears tracking down his cheeks. “I have no idea why that slipped out.” 

Aelin couldn’t help herself. “You know what didn’t slip out? You.” 

There was a moment of silence, and then laughter bounced off the walls. 

“Damn right,” Rowan chuckled. He reached over and laid a gentle hand atop their baby girl’s back. “Look what we did, though.” 

“I know.” Aelin traced the curve of her daughter’s tiny nose. “She’s perfect.” 

A little while later, after Baby Girl had been weighed and measured and cleaned up and was wrapped in a cozy blanket and snuggled into her mother’s arms, a nurse came over to Aelin and Rowan. “Do you have a name picked out?” 

“We do.” Aelin met Rowan’s eyes, and he winked. “Alanna Evalin Whitethorn.” 

His jaw went slack. “You…really?”

She nodded. “If I’m getting your last name, so does our daughter.” 

“I love you,” he choked out. 

Aelin smiled. “We love you too.”

~~~

TAGS:

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@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

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@tomtenadia

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@charlizeed

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@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@mysterylilycheeta

[ezzydantes]

Monster Trio Births part 2

Author's Note: Zoro's turn to be an ACTUAL daddy (although he's a daddy to most of us... lol). Fluff again. Warnings: Hard birth because having babies ain't easy peasy.

Zoro

You were about to have your child by the time your crew reached Wano. Zoro was happier it worked out that way with Chopper being present. If he was going to have anyone oversee his wife through childbirth it would be the blue nosed reindeer. You had both agreed that your mutual adopted son would be the one to bring your child into the world.

What had not been anticipated was the labor portion. The child was stuck and Chopper was doing what he could to save you both. Zoro had made a decision within himself that if it came down to the two of you... he'd pick you. As much as it pained him to possibly lose a child, he would deal with it and drag you out of whatever pit of Hell you'd drag yourself into if the baby was lost. You had been going through labor for HOURS now and your strength was failing you.

"Zoro..." Chopper cried, "I don't know how much longer she can hold out..."

"Take me to my wife...", the swordsman quietly stated, "She needs me..."

The small reindeer shook his head and led the green haired man to you. Upon entering the room, Zoro had to steel himself, not just for his own composure but for you as well. You were crouched down in the middle of your shared bed holding onto ropes that had been tied to the rafters above. You were soaked in sweat screaming in pain as you bared down again with the next contraction.

"Don't give up on her or the baby...", the man growled as he climbed onto the bed behind you.

"Let's try a different position..." Chopper immediately turned back into doctor mode, "Y/N back up and lay down against Zoro!"

You barely heard his instructions before your husband was taking you carefully into his arms. He leaned back against the headboard with you securely tucked between his legs.

"Baby I know you're tired and I know the baby is giving you Hell, but I need you to focus....", the swordsman gently whispered against your ear as he pulled your long raven locks o er his shoulder and began wiping your forehead with a rag that Robin provided. He began cooing in your ear, "you got this, Baby, we can do this..."

You nodded in the affirmative and squeezed his hands as you bared down again.

"I see the head!" Chopper shouted as he signaled Nami to wipe your face with a cold rag.

"I think a couple more good pushes and the baby should be out!" The small doctor joyously shouted as he instructed Nami to get more towels to swaddle the baby in.

"I don't know if I can do this..." you whispered between breaths as another contraction hit you.

"You're a Roronoa now... you can do anything... you could before too.... you're the strongest woman I know... you got this, Sweetheart..." Zoro encouraged.

You bared down again and Chopper said he could pull the baby out at this point. Relief hit you as you felt the child being pulled from you. Exhaustion immediately overtook you and you passed out after Chopper got the baby.

A few hours later you woke up to Zoro passed out at the side of your bed. You felt as though you had been chewed up, spit out, chewed up again and than spat on a sharp rock ravine. You silently yelped as you tried to move but woke up your lover.

"Baby..." he cooed as he suddenly stood up and crawled I to bed to hold you. "I know it hurts but... I need to hold you..."

The sound of his voice stopped your heart for a second. It was weak, needy even... nothing like the swordsman or first mate voice you were used to... softer and sadder than even his bedroom voice.

"Lover?" You quietly questioned as you tried to wrap your arms around him. He knew your intentions the way he knew your body and gently wrapped your arms around him as he knew you wanted. "I thought I'd lost you... you wouldn't wake up..."

You felt warm drops of water on your collar bone as you turned your head. Your Warrior was silently crying against you, causing your tears to well up as well, "I never meant to scare you... "

"You scared the hell outta me and the boy... he's still waiting to meet you..." the green haired man chuckled as he tried to gain his composure, "Little man deserves to meet his mother.. especially after the shit he put you through..."

You silently giggle at the admission. "I would love to meet the only other boy who could steal my heart...."

"In the morning... please... for now... I need to hold you... know you're real and here..." Zoro whispered as he held you closer, "Let those idiots of ours take care of him for now..."

You softly giggled. "They can't be too bad if you trust our son with them..."

"Shut up...." he quietly growled as he tucked you further into him while placing his chin atop your head, inhaling your scent, "Just give me a bit longer... please..."

His voice was still hoarse... you vaguely recall hearing him scream... you did your best to squeeze him to you with what little energy you had. "For the record... I need to train for the next baby..."

"This is the one and only.... I'll not risk you or a child again..." he said deadpanned as he stared down at you. You simply smiled knowing he was still raw from the possibility of losing you both, "Yes my love..."

A few minutes later their was a screaming baby being brought to you. Zoro walked ever so slowly as he awkwardly held your son. You couldn't help but smile. "Come here baby... is Daddy scary?" You teased looking up at your husband's annoyed look. You held the green haired babe close to your chest at first, cooing at him until he settled down seconds later. You fed him from your breast until he was full, burped him and changed his diaper before you made Zoro sit, shirtless next to your bed in your reading chair and hold the boy to him. "What shall we call him?" You whispered half asleep. He groaned at how annoying this situation was even though he smiled at the fact that his son was so relaxed in his arms.

"You can ask Robin as well... babies love skin to skin with Mommy but Daddy too... " you smiled as your infant son snuggled into his father's warmth. Zoro gently telling him all the different sword styles he'd learn and about the swords he'd inherit. "Alexander.... Xander... ", you yawned as you closed your eyes, "It means 'defender of man'.... a true warrior..."

"Alexander? Xander... Roranoa Alexander... alright... And you're main job besides being the greatest swordsman in the world is protecting your mother..." the swordsman quietly whispered thinking you were asleep, seeing your eyes closed, "Your mother is the most precious thing you will have in this world... and it's your job now to help me protect her... and when you find someone like your mother.... you hold onto her tight... just like my Sensei taught me, and you protect her too..."

You gently smiled as you heard your husband settle your son down. You gave a satisfactory moan as he curled into your shared bed and pulled you close. His strong arms around you and his breath coming through his nose at the top of your head. "I love you...."

"Hnnn" he groaned, readjusting you to face him, "I love you too... " He kissed your forehead and then your lips before wrapping you into him. "By the way... six weeks is bullshit..."

You giggled as you nuzzled into his chest. "I have to heal... plus you want me pregnant again so soon?"

"We'll test this one out first but I'm gonna say a hard NO for now..." he sighed.

You kissed his cheek, "Good answer..."

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger's Route Preview

Warning, potential spoilers ahead

Too lazy to post screenshots

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

You've yet to understand the sin of being "cursed".

Is despair what awaits for you once they're brought to light, or...

The man who's like a potent drug holds the key with a wicked smile on his face.

"For the rest of your life, I'm gonna lead you around 'til you get sick of me"

--

[Roger] My evil, it's—my willingness to fulfill my own ambitions.

Angelic man: ...Roger Barel. Former doctor that has this unusual obsession with "curses".

[I think this is Kate] I—"we" still don't understand anything going on in his heart.

--

Kate: ...What are you researching, Roger?

Roger: My curse—and how to rid the world of it.

"Curse—and how to rid the world of it"?

Roger: I could actually be someone with pretty dangerous thoughts that betrays Crown, you know? So, Kate. What would you do about it?

(At that time—)

Kate: I'm your personal fairy tale keeper, so I'm keeping an eye on you 24/7. If I think you're doing anything weird...I'll do what I can to stop you.

Roger: If you're gonna be around me 24/7, then you might just end up understanding what I meant.

When he declared that while with me, I crossed the line—into the sinfulness of the cursed.

--

Ellis: ...Why did Roger look so sad when he learned about my "briar bushes curse"? Not only that, sometimes he'll make this face when he sees me.

--

Elbert: The sin of a cursed one is far more powerful than you could possibly imagine.

--

~~ Flashback ~~

[Roger using "boku" here]

Roger: T-that person...and I... "We're not friends. That person and I are complete strangers."

Mysterious young man: ...Thank you. —"That's enough."

--

Something's scribbled on the edge of Roger's research notes.

"The more I learn about curses, the more ridiculous they get. It's like God's whim and it makes me sick."

--

You've always been strong and in control, and it's like I've been lead around by you.

Roger: Kate, look me in the eyes. Yeah, that's it. I'll never dismiss your ideas. I'll agree to anything.

--

Roger: Kate, you hurt...?!

--

Roger: Pfft, ahahahaha! You...You're really... You're so damn cute!

--

Rather than being someone that's strong, you were "someone who tried to be strong".

--

I experienced his true nature, and he stole my heart and destiny. But...

--

Victor: Roger. There's a warrant—for your arrest.

Roger: ...O_O

--

You've fought against despair so many times, and now it's my turn to save you. Because you taught me true strength.

Kate: Pull yourself together, Roger Barel! You are the strongest egoist out there! This despair's nothing. Just give it the middle finger and laugh it off like you always do!

Roger (without glasses): ...O_O

--

Our hearts overlapped. But Crown's #1 egoist—he kept a huge secret from me.

That's right, his "huntsman's betrayal".

--

Alfons: I wonder if that man's revealed anything important to Kate.

Elbert: Important?

Alfons: The cost that comes with that man's egoistic way of life.

--

Jude: O_O Your body—

--

(CG scene we see in his PV)

Roger: Kate. I'm gonna steal you, fill you, love you. So...love me too.

--

That man was a potent drug—and if you fall for him, you'll become addicted. This love is unpredictable

[mcverse]

✧ Paring: Tsu’tey x Na’vi! F! Reader

✧ Requested: Yes/No

✧ Type: Longfic

✧ Word count: 7.7K

✧ Warnings: Angst, Suppressed feelings, Oblivious reader, insecurities, Slight obvious Tsu’tey at the start, Tsu’tey gaslights just a little bit, Jealous vulnerable Tsu’tey, awkward banter, hurt to comfort I guess?, slow burn

✧ Side Bar: Tsu is so fiiiine. Can you believe I slept on him at first? Crazy, what’s was I thinking?? I ENJOYED THIS SO THANK YOU FOR SENDING IT IN BABE; TOOK 4EVER CUZ ITS LONG — srry im shitty at arguments :( i avoid anything feelings irl

✧ Omnitalk: I know that the Tsahik and the Tsakarem are technically the only healers in the clan, but I just feel like y’know there could be more but they just don’t match that level of greatness. My reasoning: there’s more than one doctor in the world, what if a whole group of warriors got hurt, the Tsahik can’t cater to them all, at least I don’t think so. ANYWAY that concludes my Omnitalk thanks for stopping by

please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+, and although I can't monitor who reads my work, if you are not 18+ I advise that you do not engage in my page or stories.

Your temper had always been something that you struggled with. Patience wasn't exactly your forte, but you knew how to keep your cool in most situations. You weren't a saint by any means, but it took a lot to push you to the brink of losing control.

Thankfully, you had Eywa to turn to when things got tough. She provided a sense of guidance that helped you stay calm in moments when it would have been easy to let your anger get the best of you. Without her, you knew you would have snapped at him long ago.

Tsu’tey.

His reputation preceded him wherever he went. A true embodiment of the warrior spirit, he exuded strength and bravery with every step he took. During the battle against the sky people, his ferocity in both defense and protection of your people and land was unparalleled. He possessed razor-sharp reflexes and a keen mind, which made him merciless in battle—traits that marked him as a natural-born leader, fit for the title of the Olo'eyktan.

And yet, it seemed that you only experienced the negative aspects of his character. The origins of your rocky relationship with the current Olo'eyktan were fuzzy, but it felt as though your paths crossed every day.

As one of the best healers in the village, it's already challenging enough to do your job with how reckless the warriors were, but with him lurking around was considerable worst. While you respect him and assume the feeling is mutual, tension always seems to arise between the two of you.

You couldn't help but wonder why Tsu'tey always had to be around when warriors were injured. You were more than capable of handling the job on your own—after all, you had been trained by your mother and had been practicing as a healer for as long as you could remember. You could tend to the wounded with your eyes closed.

But for some reason, Tsu'tey always seemed to show up when warriors were injured on his watch, which happened more often than it should. It was confusing because these were skilled warriors who should not have been injured so frequently. You’d think he’d match your concern but Tsu’tey appears unfazed. In fact, he seems content to stand there and watch you work.

That didn’t change the fact that you hated to endure it. Every time Tsu’tey appeared, the air around you seemed to shift, and you could feel his penetrating gaze fixed on you as he stood over your shoulder. Even though you knew iit was possible he was here to ensure you didn't make a mistake, you had never slipped up in your tending to the Na’vi.

You longed for him to give you some space and allow you to breathe. A day without his stupidly handsome face, always twisted into a scowl, would be a blessing. It was suffocating to have him lurking around, making you feel uneasy as you work. Instead of letting it affect your tending to the Na'vi, you let harsh words slithers out of your mouth. They were words that no one would dare to direct to the Olo'eyktan, but they weren’t you.

"Do you not have responsibilities to attend to as Olo’eyktan, Tsu'tey?” you break the silence, keeping your hands steady on the Na'vi in front of you, despite your desire to turn and push Tsu’tey out of your healers hut.

He nods, shifting his gaze from your hands to the side of your face, "Yes. One of my duties is to ensure proper care for our people," he replies matter-of-factly.

You click your tongue, silently apologizing to the Na'vi when you realize you have grazed his wound too harshly. Then you turn your attention back to Tsu'tey, "You keep saying that, but do you not think I am capable of caring for them alone?" you ask, peering at him and study him.

His expression doesn’t change from the scowl but you knew your words had affected him. Over time, he had become easier to read, his emotions slowly surfacing through subtle gestures and expressions. You noticed the way he gulped slowly, his ears flicking downward, and his tail switching off to the opposite side.

Looking up seconds later, your eyes met and you pause, catching a knowing gleam in his gaze that no one else seemed to have noticed but you. Perhaps you had been paying too much attention to him, a realization that he had definitely overstayed his welcome.

A small smile played at the corner of your lips as he responded, already anticipating the snarky comment that would leave his mouth. Despite finding him annoying and wanting him to be around less often, you couldn't deny that there was a certain charm to the unpleasant side of him that showed a few pleasantries you didn't mind all too much.

“You might be a healer now but you’re the same reckless girl from your upbringing.” Tsu’tey averts his eyes to the silent Na’vi, “Can’t even be gentle when it’s needed. Maybe you would be better off among the warriors.” He tilts his head towards you, wearing a barely noticeable smug expression.

You sigh deeply to cover up the slip up on your demeanor and dismissed the Na'vi by patting him on the shoulder, "In three days, come back so I can change it," you instructed him as he nods and left the hut.

After staring at he same space the wounded Na’vi was in, you turned completely to Tsu’tey, who was already looking at you with a concentrated look. He straightens his posture, puff out his chest, and crosses his arms when he notice you looking at him.

“Unless you have more wounded warriors hiding somewhere, I’m kinda busy.” You gesture to the many supplies that you had to clean up, “It’ll be reckless of me to leave it around and cause another accident.” You mock his earlier statement, slightly ticked off that he brought it up in the first place.

Tsu'tey let out a disgruntled humph, his eyes momentarily leaving yours and wandering over your body. You couldn't help but feel self-conscious under his gaze, but as he took in every freckle and pattern, every smooth surface his eyes could reach, you also felt a flutter in your stomach. His gaze flickered hastily back up to yours, and he uncrossed his arms, silently giving you an affirmative nod before turning to leave the hut.

〰〰〰〰〰〰

After that odd encounter, it seemed as if a switch had been flipped in Tsu'tey's demeanor. The once stoic and tense warrior still came to your healer's hut, but now the exchanges between the two of you were different. The words that were once laced with venom and hostility now held a playful tone, something that was unexpected from the serious Na'vi.

In no way were you complaining, it beat his normal uprightness but it was a bit perplexing. Why had Tsu’tey suddenly become so much more relaxed and friendly around you? It made you question his motive, though you knew if he really had one, he’d mostly likely be upfront about it.

That doesn’t mean it still made any sense. You observed that he never acted in such a manner with any other warriors, and you weren’t the only one to notice. The warriors in the same hunting group as him, the same ones who get injured come in and feel uncomfortable yet curious at the different Tsu’tey.

The next time you see him, it was mid-morning when he entered the hut, following one of his men like usual. As soon as he caught sight of you, his ears perked up at the brief smile you sent his way. You quickly averted your gaze to focus on the injured Na’vi in front of you. You let out a sigh of annoyance as you saw it was Kenuk, who had been in your care four times this week, with injuries that hadn't even healed yet.

“Kenuk, how many times do I have to tell you to be careful!?” You scold him as he took his usual seat in the center of the room, Tsu’tey staying off to the side. You turned away from them both to grab some supplies before hurrying back to Kenuk to examine his wound. You couldn’t stop the frown from forming on your face when you saw the large scrape on his side. Though it wasn't deep, the size of the wound was concerning.

You reached for a wet cloth and began to softly clean his wound, but apparently, it was not soft enough, as a groan escaped Kenuk’s lips, followed by a chuckle, “More than I'd like,” he answers truthfully, looking down at you as you worked, “You're not exactly gentle.”

Tsu’tey grunts beside you, “What I say.”, clearly referencing the comment he made two weeks ago. Despite not looking at him, you could feel the smug expression he always wore, and it annoyed you to no end. Both he and Kenuk were getting on your nerves with their accusations of you being rough and insensitive. You knew you were capable of being gentle; you were gentle. Maybe Kenuk was just being overly sensitive. Perhaps he needed to toughen up.

“Prrnen, you’re soft just like one. Sensitive too,” you retorted, deliberately applying a bit more pressure to Kenuk’s wound to make your point. You smiled as he winced and shot you a warning glare. Ignoring him, you set aside the damp cloth and reached for the healing ointment, the one you knew would make him whimper like a baby.

Tsu'tey notices this, drawing in his attention as he raises a brow at your choice. He's not a healer, but he's had his fair share of injuries and he knows that the ointment in your hands stings the most. He was accustomed to the stinging sensation it caused, but not everyone had his high tolerance. Did that comment get to you that much?

Just as you both thought, Kenuk pulls away from you in seconds, trying to get away from your touch. "Shit!" he curses, about to get up when a firm hand grabs his shoulder and forces him to sit back down. It belongs to Tsu'tey, no surprise given he's the only other person in the hut. But it's surprising that he's helping.

"She can't do her job if you move too much." There's a moment of tension between the two Na'vi as they lock eyes, almost as if they were having a silent conversation. Eventually, Kenuk concedes, muttering a begrudging "fine" and shifting his body to give you better access to his wound.

You glance over at Tsu’tey, his tall and imposing figure commanding attention even in the dimly lit hut. "Thank you... Ma Tsu’tey," you say, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. You've shown gratitude to others before, but never directed towards him. You and Tsu’tey have never been nice to each other, at least not until a few weeks ago.

You went back to focus on treating Kenuk's wound, you find your eyes wandering over to Tsu’tey's muscular frame. It's not a habit of yours to be distracted by someone's physique, but there was something about him that drew your attention. You force yourself to look away and focus on the task at hand. "How are you the most wounded warrior in the village, hm?" you ask, trying to distract yourself from your thoughts. "Your health is important, skxawng.

As soon as you ask the question, you expect an immediate response, but instead, an uncomfortable silence lingers, causing you to pause and study his face. His expression is devoid of his usual goofiness, which only increases your concern.

“I asked a question," you convey, brows furrowed in confusion.

He clears his throat and looks away, avoiding your gaze. "The Chief," he murmurs finally. The second the name spills from him, you snap your head at the man in question.

Tsu’tey tenses up under your watchful gaze, feeling a flush of heat and clamminess rise within him. He wants to look away, to avoid the intensity of your stare, but he can't bring himself to do it. It’ll make him look weak, he couldn't afford to look weak, not in front of you. And for some inexplicable reason, he actually craves your attention at the same time, whether under good reason for bad.

“You did this?” You can't believe what you're hearing. The thought that Tsu'tey was responsible for Kenuk's injuries never crossed your mind. On the one hand, it seems improbable that he would do something so reckless, but on the other hand, it fits with the abrasive and confrontational persona that you've come to associate with him.

Tsu’tey lets out a huff of frustration and crosses his arms tightly across his chest, his body language tense and defensive. “They need to learn,” he grumbles, his lips pursed as he takes a moment to consider his words, “If they can’t win against me, how can they survive out there?”

As you process his words, you realize with a sinking feeling that the "they" he's referring to are all the injured warriors who have stumbled into your hut over the past few days. Did Tsu’tey injure all of them? The thought is both impressive and upsetting, and you can't quite decide how to feel about it.

“I didn’t expect that of you,” you say, looking away and continuing to treat Kenuk. You drop the ointment in favor of picking up the leaf wrapping, “Do not worry, Kenuk. You are in great hands. I’ll take care of you anytime.” You give his upper arm a strong squeeze when you finish wrapping.

Unbeknownst to you, Tsu'tey's eyes lingered on the spot where your hand had rested on Kenuk's arm. He knows that this is your duty, one he saw you do plenty of times but that touch felt more intimate than he liked. Though he couldn’t figure out why he didn’t like it, he just felt extremely uncomfortable and irritable having to witness it.

As you exchange words of farewell with Kenuk and turn to put away your supplies, Tsu'tey lingers behind, thoughts swirl with confusion. He can't shake the feeling of unease that has settled over him. He has never felt this way, he never had to. He was confident in everything—teaching, hunting, and battle but this.. this felt different and he doesn't know how to process it. He glance at you one last time before silently exiting your hut too.

You turn back around to get more intel on the injured warriors who come to see you often, but Tsu'tey is not there like he usually is. You wonder where he could have gone, but quickly push the thought out of your mind as you greet another Na’vi walking in.

〰〰〰〰〰〰

Initially, becoming a healer wasn't your dream. Your mother, may she rest in peace, was determined to pass on the family tradition to you. The lessons on herbs and their medicinal uses felt tedious and unexciting to you. You longed to roam beyond the boundaries set by for you, to hunt like the mighty warriors you idolized and fly on the backs of Ikran without a watchful eye.

Perhaps this is why you sometimes struggle to find the gentle touch and calmness required of a healer. But Eywa, the guiding spirit of Pandora', had other plans for you. Even before your birth, she had chosen you for this path. To test your abilities, she presented you with a challenge—a friend in need, requiring your knowledge and care.

Through this test, Eywa showed you your true calling. Despite your initial reluctance, you rose to the challenge and used your skills to help your friend. And from that moment, you knew that you were destined to become a great healer, chosen by the spirit herself.

So you wondered why you she was testing you again. You had already proven your worth as a healer in the village. So why were fewer and fewer warriors seeking your assistance? Had you not fulfilled your duty correctly?

These thoughts plagued your mind as you sat in your hut, surrounded by jars of herbs and vials of medicines. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of self-doubt, wondering if perhaps you had lost your touch.

But it wasn’t adding up the more you thought it over.

You knew that every warrior who came to your hut left with the progress of being healed. You took pride in your work and tried to be as friendly as possible, never having a real disagreement with anyone. So what was the reason to your sudden decline in business? You shake your head, trying to dispel the doubts that had been creeping in. Sitting around in this hut waiting wasn’t going to help you find out faster.

Leaving your hut, you greeted the Na'vi as you walked through the village, heading towards the only place where your business thrived: the training ground. When you arrived, the training wasn't yet finished, so you stood off to the side with a few warriors who were taking a break. You were content to wait, watching as Tsu'tey led the training. This is the first time in a few days since you’ve seen him, admittedly you miss him and the aura he was giving off in the field only fueled that.

In that moment, watching Tsu'tey command the training grounds, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him in a way you never had before. The way he moved, the strength in his stance, the confidence in his voice... it was all so attractive.

You were conflicted because you knew that, in the past, you had found his demeanor aggravating and even off-putting. But here he was, exuding qualities that made your heart race and your stomach flutter. It was unnerving to feel this way, especially towards someone who had never shown you any interest or affection.

You were sure that your slow growing feelings for Tsu’tey were just a momentary lapse in judgment. After all, he was the Olo'eyktan and had important responsibilities to fulfill, which you could never be a part of.

You tried to convince yourself that your attraction to him was just a silly crush that would soon fade away, especially since it was entirely one-sided. It was a well-known fact that Tsu’tey still grieves over his previous love, and you didn't want to add to his emotional burden.

Letting out a deep sigh, you turn and spot a familiar face in the group of Na'vi. It was Kenuk, you must have missed him when you first arrived, as he was standing between two other Na'vi. A smile spreads across your face as you walk over to greet him and the others.

After exchanging pleasantries, you turn to Kenuk, "Mind if we talk?"

He looks at the other two Na'vi beside him before nodding and following you a few feet away, out of earshot. Taking a deep breath, you get straight to the point, "Why haven’t any of our people come to see me lately, do you know the reason?”

Kenuk groans and his ears pull back, anticipating the inevitable conflict. It was no secret that he frequently visited your healer's hut with the future leader of the clan, so he knew he would be caught in the middle of your mess at some point. The problem was that he didn't know what to do. Both Na'vi involved were senior to him, and whatever he said would betray one, if not the other. The weight of his dilemma was evident in his downturned expression and hesitant words.

“…I don’t know.”

Your eyes narrow as you look at Kenuk, his guilty face betraying him. He knows more than he's letting on. You don't tolerate liars and Kenuk's demeanor only confirms your suspicions.

"Are you lying to me, Kenuk?" you ask, your tone firm and unwavering.

Kenuk frowns, his ears twitching at your disappointment, “We were told not to. Uh, not exactly not to but," he trails off, struggling to explain the situation. You wait, your impatience growing by the second. Finally, he blurts out, "The Chief has been saying things."

This information catches you off guard. Why does Tsu'tey have anything to do with this? That doesn't make sense. Weren't you both just getting along? To sabotage your living... that's unforgivable. But you don't want to jump to conclusions; there has to be more.

You're hesitant to ask; this might break your calm streak. You can already feel your body heating up at the possibilities, "What kind of things?"

Kenuk shifts uneasily on his feet, looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else but here. You can practically feel the tension radiating off of him as he reluctantly begins to speak, "There have been some male Na'vi asking about you, I don’t know why. But Chief Tsu'tey," he starts, his eyes darting away from you, "He told them that you're too rough. You're the opposite of gentle, too strong."

A snarl rises up in your throat. It's always about that, isn't it? Why should a healer have to be gentle? You're proud of your strength and resilience, but it seems like others see it as a flaw. You're about to speak up when Kenuk continues, his words making your blood boil even hotter.

"And you're too strong-headed like a flathead ram and have a loose tongue. You act impulsively and fearlessly, without regard for the consequences,” he gulps, looking you in the eyes, “He says you're dangerous and should be avoided. That you'll do more harm than good, opposite of a healer.”

Your vision blurs as your anger finally boils over. You know exactly what he's getting at, bringing up that damn conversation again. The conversation that you thought bad changed everything between you two.

But he was still the same arrogant jerk, and now you were starting to regret your newly developed feelings for him. He didn't deserve that, not with the way he was acting. Who did he think he was?

The fury inside you is building with each step you take towards the training ground. Eywa may have been able to calm you in the past, but this time you're beyond her reach. The storm that is forming inside your head is one that even Eywa can't control. That man, that future Olo'eyktan, he's gone too far this time. His words about you being too strong, too strong-headed, and loose tongued have crossed a line.

As you approach the training ground, you notice that the session has ended and Tsu'tey, alone, was putting away the weapons. Your feet pound against the ground, announcing your presence before you even reach him. Tsu'tey looks up at you with a raised eyebrow, his expression curious but wary.

You stop just a foot away from him and your nostrils flare as you stare him down. You might look incredibly intimidating to you, but to him, you look like a pouty toddler.

"What is your problem?" you spit out the words, your anger palpable. The intensity of your gaze could have burned a hole through him.

Tsu'tey's focus shifts entirely to you, abandoning the weapons he was putting away. He narrows his eyes, “Whats going on?” He was confused by the urgency in your approach, as you seemed to be babbling without actually getting to the point.

"You have a lot of nerve, telling these things about me." you exclaim, your voice trembling staring at the source of your rage, “I expect better of the future clan leader!” Your hands were balled into fists at your sides, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, matching the way you were feeling.

Tsu’tey takes a moment to process your words, his eyes studying you intently. His brilliant mind races against an invisible clock, trying to formulate a solution to the problem he has caused. He didn't think you would find out about his lies, or perhaps he was in denial and not thinking rationally when he spread them.

As he stands before you, he considers apologizing for his mistake. He didn't mean to upset you, and it was never his intention to cause you pain. However, as he looks into your eyes, he remembers how the other warriors asked about you, and the brief moment he shared with Kenuk that he tried to forget.

He came to realize apologizing wasn't an option for him, despite the guilt weighing heavily on his mind. He couldn't bring himself to utter the words because he didn't feel genuine remorse for all of his actions. While he regretted that you had suffered the consequences of his lies, he couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for sabotaging the potential suitors who had shown interest in you. In his eyes, they weren't worthy of you and he couldn't bear the thought of you ending up with someone who didn't deserve your love.

He knew he was being selfish, but he couldn't help the overwhelming new feeling of possessiveness he had over you. Every time he saw someone else try to get close to you, it made his blood boil with jealousy. He knew he couldn't have you for himself, but he couldn't bear the thought of anyone else having you either. So, he used his influence to spread rumors and lies to scare off anyone who tried to pursue you.

Deep down, he knew it was wrong and he hated himself for it, but he came to really enjoy your company and he can’t continue that if you were mated. So, even though he knew he owed you an apology for his behavior, he couldn't bring himself to do it, not without admitting to himself that he was wrong in wanting you all to himself.

Despite the storm of emotions brewing inside him, Tsu’tey chooses to hide them behind a mask of indifference, "They were the truth," he says, though he immediately regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. He knows he should be honest with you, to tell you how he truly feels, but he can't bring himself to do it. "I have a duty," he continues, trying to justify his actions, "I simply directed them to someone better." His feelings for you has grown slowly and unexpectedly, yet he can't bring himself to confess his true feelings to you.

You were taken aback by his words. They hit you like a punch in the gut, leaving you feeling winded and vulnerable. Your mind races, trying to make sense of what he's saying, but his words are like a jumbled mess in your head.

“How could you say that?” Your voice is barely a whisper as you go silent, the realization hitting you hard. This had to be linked to your past somehow. You look back up, your eyes filling with hurt and confusion, “That’s not me anymore. I’m not that reckless girl anymore. I’m capable, just like every healer here.” You try to reason, try to get him to see that you have changed, that you're not the same person he once knew. You thought he saw that you did.

Tsu’tey's face hardens, his eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and resentment, “I did what is best for our people.” Another lie, yet he still couldn't stop.

You feel betrayed as the conversation goes on, your anger rising just as quickly as it came to you in a moment of vulnerability, “What about me?! Did you not even consider what that means for me?” You feel hysterical, like you are imagining all this. You had to be.

Tsu’tey's jaw clenches, straightening his posture as he tilts his head tauntingly at you, “What about you? It’s very selfish of you to not consider your people.” He smacks his tongue on his teeth, “You are everything I said and possibly more. I did what I had to do. If you don’t like it, you’ll have to learn to live with it.”

That was it.

That was your 13th reason last straw.

“I hate you,” You confess coldly, looking him dead in the eyes, “and you're the one causing trouble, Tsu’tey, not me” You turn away slightly, a scowl that could rival his play on your lips and your eyes scanning him in disgust, “You may be the Olo'eyktan, but you don’t deserve it.. nor my respect.” You leave after those words, wanting to get as far away from him as possible, before he breaks your heart even more.

〰〰〰〰〰〰

It has been two long, torturous weeks since the bitter argument that left you feeling raw and vulnerable. The memory of Tsu’tey's harsh words still stings like an open wound, and you find yourself unable to shake off the anger and hurt that consumes you. You refuse to be anywhere near him, knowing that the mere sight of him would trigger a fresh wave of emotions that you are not ready to face.

Despite knowing how ridiculous it is to completely avoid someone in a community as small as yours, you can't bring yourself to do anything else. You spend most of your time cooped up in your healer's hut, only venturing out occasionally to hunt for herbs or attend to few non warrior patients. The thought of bumping into Tsu’tey fills you with dread and you do everything in your power to stay away from him.

You avoid the training ground like a plague, knowing that Tsu’tey is often there, leading the warriors through their daily drills. You know that as a healer, it's your duty to attend to the warriors' injuries and ailments, but you deny yourself that luxury. You can't bear the thought of being in the same space as him, even for a few moments.

But then, Tsu’tey and a small group of warriors leave on a hunting trip, and it feels like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. You can finally breathe again, without the constant fear of running into him. You know it's not a permanent solution, but for now, it's enough. In his absence, you find peace, and you try to focus on your work, hoping that time will heal the wounds that Tsu’tey has left behind.

Within his absence, you discovered yourself being drawn outside more and more often, collecting an assortment of herbs for your medicinal balm while soaking up the natural beauty that surrounded you.

In moments of pure stillness, your mind would occasionally wander back to the conversation with Tsu’tey, but in the midst of this tranquil setting, it all seemed insignificant. It was as if Eywa was leading you towards a celestial epiphany, prompting you to recall the things you had forgotten and encouraging you to generate and safeguard something entirely novel.

Even now with you were so lost in the beauty of the forest, eyes closed and queue connected, that you were completely oblivious to the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. It wasn't until a hand gently touched your shoulder that you jolted in surprise, quickly un-sheathing your weapon and whirling around to confront the intruder.

You raise your brows in shock before quickly lowering your weapon as you recognize Raa'te, one of the warriors who had stayed behind while the others were on the hunting trip. Despite Tsu'tey's words, he has been one of the few warriors who haven't stopped coming to your hut, and you were grateful for his company.

Over the past few weeks, The two of you have been spending more time together lately, and you've come to appreciate his kind and gentle nature. He was a rare and refreshing presence in your life..

"Raa'te, you scared me," you say with a chuckle, shielding your weapon and felt a sense of relief that it's him and not someone else.

He grins mischievously, his hands still raised in a peaceful gesture, "I mean no harm, I promise. I just wanted to see if you wanted to come with me to see the return of the hunting party. The horn has sounded, and they should be back any minute now." He lowers his hands, peering down at you softly.

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to be anywhere near Tsu’tey, but the hopeful expression Raa'te was throwing at you is too much to resist. Signing, you nod your head, "Okay, let's go," you mumble, grabbing your bag of herbs and going towards the village together.

On the way back to the village with Raa’te, the two of you engage in light conversation. He seems genuinely interested in getting to know more about you, and you find yourself opening up to him more and more. It's a refreshing change from the other warriors who often just talk about themselves.

Raa’te even takes the initiative to carry your bag for you, a small act of kindness that doesn't go unnoticed. As you approach the village, you can hear the sound of cheers and excitement in the distance. The hunting party must be returned.

At the front of the hunting party, Tsu'tey stood with his chest puffed out, basking in the cheers and adoration of his people. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disgust in your stomach at his display of arrogance.

It’s frustrating how someone can evoke such strong emotions in you, both positive and negative. You shake your head, trying to push those thoughts away, but your attention is drawn back to him, much to your annoyance. After all he's done, there were plenty of others in the tribe with better potential.

Raa’te was full of surprises today. He leans in close to your ear and whispers, "I could have gone on the hunt, you know?" You turn to him with a curious expression, wondering why he didn't. He smiles at you, thinking you look adorable and then blurts out what's been on his mind lately, "because I'm more interested in you right now."

You felt your cheeks heat up at his boldness, looking down to avoid his gaze. Despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you appreciated his honesty.

You couldn't deny that Raa'te's presence had a certain charm to it, and you found yourself drawn to him in ways that surprised you. His kindness and genuine interest in you were a welcome change from the tension and uncertainty that seemed to permeate every interaction you had with Tsu'tey.

"You're courting me?" The question slips from your lips before you can stop yourself, surprised and a little embarrassed that you hadn't noticed until now. How could you have missed the signs? Raa'te had always been there for you, lending a helping hand and offering thoughtful little gifts that always brought a smile to your face.

Raa'te chuckles at your question, his gaze curious as he looks at you, "You haven't noticed?"

You shake your head, feeling a little ashamed that you hadn't seen his intentions before. "I've been busy with other things," you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. But the truth was, you had been so wrapped up in Tsu'tey that you hadn't even considered the possibility of being with someone else.

"Like the Chief?" Raa'te asks knowingly, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks more at the mention of Tsu'tey's name.

You snap your head up, your eyes wide with surprise, "How did you—"

"The whole village knows," Raa'te interrupts, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You let out a frustrated groan, dropping your head in embarrassment at the news. It was mortifying, but in hindsight, not entirely unexpected. Anything related to the Chief had a way of spreading like wildfire in the village, so it was only a matter of time before rumors started to circulate. You just didn't think it would happen so quickly.

"I'm sorry, Raa'te. I didn't mean to lead you on," you say, looking back up at him with a heavy sense of guilt. He had been putting in effort, and you hadn't reciprocated at all.

He gives a nonchalant shrug, "It's okay. I just thought I might have a better chance if he was out of the picture. Guess that's not happening," he says, gesturing behind you.

You turn around to see what he's looking at, and your eyes meet Tsu'tey's. The Chief is staring at you with an unreadable expression, and for a moment, you feel a rush of panic. You quickly turn back to Raa'te, hoping that Tsu'tey didn't hear your conversation.

Despite not hearing the conversation, Tsu’tey’s sharp mind allowed him to discern the situation to a certain extent. He had learned from his group of warriors that Raa’te had chosen to remain behind to court you properly, which only stirred up feelings of anger within him. He knew he had no right to feel jealous or resentful towards Raa’te, especially after the way he had mistreated you. He understood that he was no more deserving of you than anyone else in the clan.

Even with this knowledge, Tsu’tey couldn’t shake the terrible feeling he had inside. After the first week of avoiding him, he had plenty of time to reflect on his mistakes and realized that he had made a grave error.

The fact that you were avoiding him hurt him deeply, even though he knew it was justified. However, a nagging voice in his head convinced him that if you were doing it on purpose, he should do the same. He knew it didn’t make sense, but he couldn’t help but feel terrible and foolish for giving in to that temptation.

As he watched you walk away with Raa’te, it felt like you were taking his heart with you. He couldn't believe that he had caused this outcome upon his return. It was cruel, and he knew he deserved it, but at the same time, he didn't feel like he should have to endure it. All he had to do was apologize, but he wondered if it was enough for you to forgive him.

He truly hoped so because the thought of seeing you with someone else was going to drive him up a tree. He regretted not telling you how he truly felt and why he acted the way he did. The fact that he couldn't handle his emotions like he would with an Ikran made him even more frustrated.

As night falls, Tsu’tey finds himself determined to confront the confusing and unsettling situation between him and you. With a sense of unease gnawing at his gut, he makes his way to your home, hoping to get some clarity and put an end to whatever this was.

However, his heart sinks when he finds your hut empty, and he can't help but let his mind wander into dark thoughts and "what ifs." In a last-ditch attempt, he decides to check the healer's hut, where he heaves a sigh of relief at the sight of you shuffling around your medicine.

As the drape of your hut flutters, you stop your work and look towards the entrance, hoping it's someone who won't disrupt your peace. Unfortunately, it's Tsu'tey, his ears flat back and a scowl etched on his face. You immediately regret looking up as you feel a rush of tension in the air.

The expression on his face is still hostile, but there's a hint of vulnerability that you've never seen before. You both stand there in silence, neither of you uttering a word. The atmosphere is so thick you can practically cut it with a knife.

His voice, low yet firm, echoes inside your little hut, "I'm sorry."

Did the Olo'eyktan—no, did Tsu’tey just say "I'm sorry" to you? You wonder if you're starting to hallucinate after seeing him return. You can't remember him ever apologizing before, at least not without a fight.

"Great Mother," you mutter in disbelief, your eyes widening. You struggle to process his words, wondering if this is truly the same Tsu'tey you know. "Who are you and what have you done with our Chief?" you ask, half-jokingly. This behavior is unlike him, leaving you uncertain.

His glare brings you back to reality, silently conveying the seriousness of his words. You take a moment to gather yourself, realizing that this apology is genuine and you must respond accordingly.

“I acknowledge the strength it took for you to admit that you were wrong. Thank you,” you say, your brows furrowing as you glance off to the side. It wasn't exactly what you wanted to say, but you had been mulling over the situation for weeks and decided that being the bigger person was the best course of action.

Tsu'tey notices your hesitation immediately and steps further into the hut, basking in the dim glow of the a flickering flame. Your eyes drift back to him unconsciously, taking in his handsome features - his high cheekbones and chiseled jaw - and you find yourself falling for him all over again.

"But?" he prompts, sensing that there is more to your statement than you are letting on.

You pause, chewing on the inside of your cheek as your eyes flicker between his, which seem more honest and vulnerable than you've ever seen them. What were you going to say? How could you say it? Should you say it?

"Just say it," he urges, his scowl growing deeper. He was growing impatient in a situation that deserved patience. He knew this, but he also knew he didn't want to wait any longer. "Speak your mind freely."

"I thought you said I was too loose-tongued," you state a little too harshly, as the wound was only two weeks old.

Tsu'tey purses his lips, answering without hesitation, "You do. You're not afraid to state your opinion to our people or your Olo'eyktan," he glances downwards at the ground. "I respect it."

You tilt your head in confusion at his statement. Wasn't he the same person who spread rumors about you and drove away your business? It's flattering that he thinks you're not afraid to speak your mind, but it doesn't change the fact that his actions caused you harm.

Curious, you test the waters, "What about me being stubborn?" His eyes flicker up to meet yours and his lips twitch in response,

"You are. You've been avoiding me since the fight. I'll say that's stubborn enough," he admits.

You pout and cross your arms defensively, "With reason!" you retort. After a moment of hesitation, you ask, "What about me not being gentle? You have everyone thinking I'm some woman who knows nothing but toughness."

Finally, a playful smirk spreads across his face, his eyes lighting up. What happened to the Tsu’tey who wanted to take this serious? "That's also true. I meant it when I said you're better off as a warrior... but you're great as a healer too."

There was a heavy moment of silence as you processed his words, your body feeling hot under his intense gaze, but you didn’t look away. You were debating on what to do next, whether to take his words to heart, or forgive him. He sounded sincere enough, but was it enough?

“Why…Why hurt me?” You finally mutter, the question that’s been weighing on your mind for weeks. It was the one that you desperately didn’t want to share, the one that would show so much vulnerability that you didn’t know if you wanted to give that to him yet.

But Tsu'tey understood the weight of your question, his smirk fading as he grew serious. serious. A few seconds passed before he sighed heavily through his nostrils, “I wasn’t myself.” He confess, continuing as he caught your look of confusion, “My pride and foolish jealousy blinded me. I failed to see that my actions were hurting you, and that was the last thing I wanted.”

You do a double take as he continues speaking, his vulnerability at its highest peak, “I was a skxqwng for letting myself become clouded with such feelings but I didn’t know how to deal with them.”

“What are you trying to say, Tsu’tey?” You ask, holding your breath as his expression grows softer by the second. It's a side of him you've never seen before, and you don't think anyone else has either. But it has your heart threatening to jump out of your chest and your stomach doing silly flips.

“I’m saying… Oel ngati kameie, [Name].” He walks closer, stopping in front of you. He raises his hand to your cheek, which you lean into as you stare at him in disbelief. All the anger you felt has vaporized like it was never there because all you can see is Tsu’tey looking at you like your the most treasured thing in the world, “If you’ll have me, I will make my wrongs right.”

You take a deep breath and close your eyes for a moment, trying to ground yourself. It feels like a dream, but the warmth of Tsu’tey’s touch on your face is real. You open your eyes again, looking up at him, “Oel ngati kameie, Tsu’tey.” You whisper breathlessly, feeling the weight of the moment.

Tsu’tey’s eyes light up at your words, a wide smile spreading across his face as he brings his other hand up to cup your cheek. He looks at you so happily that the sun would be envious of his light. You realize that you really like this version of Tsu'tey and want to see more of it.

He looks down at your lips, and you can feel your own breath hitching in your throat, “Can I kiss you, Yawne?” He mumble, looking back back in your eyes.

You don’t even need to think about it – the answer is a resounding yes. You want to feel his lips on yours, to hold him closer, to lose yourself in the moment.

Without answering, you grab him by the shoulders and pull him towards you, pressing your lips to his in a fervent, passionate kiss. The space between you feels too great, and you crave the feeling of his body against yours.

It was in this moment that you realized how thankful you were for all the ups and downs that had led you here. The moments where you had lost your cool, the times when you had been too stubborn to see the truth, and the moments of sheer frustration had all been worth it. Without them, you wouldn't be here, in Tsu'tey's arms, feeling like you had finally found your home.

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[k1ngdom-of-thieves]

Hello! May I ask for a Vil,Riddle,Trey,Idia and Jack with a frail reader who has a lot of medical issues like having a lot of meds and struggling to live in Ramshackle bc of the dust etc? I have a problem with my strength so it would be cool to see these characters deal with a reader like this.

Vil, Riddle, Trey, Idia and Jack + reader with medical issues

I tried to keep descriptions vague because I’m not the best with writing for illnesses.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil would immediately ask you to stay in Pomfiore as soon as he found out about your current living conditions. The dust and bugs in the dorm are not gonna be helping your medical issues in the slightest.

If you agree to going to Pomfiore, he’ll make sure that your room would be set up with any medical supplies you could need. From various types of allergy medicine, to practically any flavor of cough drop you could possibly want. Is it a little overboard? Yes, but he’s just really worried about you.

If you opt to stay in Ramshackle, Vil would be very against the notion but wouldn’t argue with you about it. Instead, he’ll help you clean every nook and cranny in that dorm.

Although he looks fairly thin, he’s still plenty strong. Don’t even think about over-exerting yourself; not only will you get the longest scolding of your life, he’ll also take whatever you were trying to carry and do it for you.

“Please don’t place too much pressure on yourself. I know you are plenty capable on your own, but you can still rely on me if you feel overwhelmed.”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle would be so irritated that Crowley would make you stay in a place like Ramshackle knowing of your medical problems. How could such a great mage be so irresponsible!?

He doesn’t mind if you would rather stay in the dorm than live somewhere else, but that just means he’ll work to make sure Ramshackle is spotless.

Since his parents are doctors, he knows a little bit about how to treat certain conditions or what medications work the best. He’ll practically buy the entire store’s stock of whatever medicine would make you feel better.

If you ever get sick, he’ll be worrying more than you’d be. He’s checking up on you every chance he gets; from in between classes, to after the equestrian club meetings, and before he goes to sleep.

“Do you want anything from the store? I could bring a humidifier just in case you need it.”

Trey Clover

Trey would love to be able to offer you a place in Heartslabyul, but he’s really in no position to do so; with him having three other roommates in his dorm room. But he’ll definitely ask Riddle about it if you’re interested.

He’ll be right by your side if you need anything, no matter how small it is. Even if it’s during club meetings, plus Rook doesn’t seem to be offended by Trey disappearing from time to time. He says stuff about being able to witness the beauty of young love.

Even though he’s a better baker than chef, he’ll still try to make you any dish that you could want. Don’t worry about it being to complex for him to make, if anything he’ll just ask one of the cafeteria ghosts to help him out.

If you ever experience aches and pains, he’ll offer to give you a massage. Sure, it may not help with all of your pain but it’ll definitely be super relaxing.

“How are you feeling? Please let me know if you’re feeling any pain; I may not be able to get rid of all of it, but I’ll try my best if it’s for you.”

Idia Shroud

Idia would have nothing but the highest respect for you. Not only are you living in a dusty, rundown, haunted building with no wifi; you’re doing it all with a bunch of medical conditions! That’s like playing on maddening difficulty!!

He’ll make sure that Ignihyde has the best medical equipment if you ever choose to spend the night there. He might go a little overboard with it, but he’s just worried about not being able to help of you need him.

Don’t be surprised if you see a little robot delivering treats to you if you’re not feeling the best. Sometimes, it’ll be Ortho that comes to sing you a tune from a show he and Idia watched.

If you ever ask him to let you live at his dorm, he’d be over the moon. He’d be so excited to have you around more often.

“How are you feeling? If you’re not feeling the best, let me know and I’ll turn your difficulty settings down as fast as I can!.” He just wants to help.

Jack Howl

Jack is another guy who’ll want to invite you to his dorm; just to get you away from all the dust if nothing else. But seeing that his dorm is Savanaclaw, you probably won’t be getting the best medical attention aside from athletic injuries.

He will drop everything that he’s doing in order to help you if you’re ever in pain or just feeling under the weather. Don’t ever feel guilty about him always being there when you call; he’s doing it because he loves you, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

This wolf boy has like a sixth sense for knowing what you need when you need it. Even if it’s not something like medicine; once he bought you bug spray without you even knowing you were out of it.

Constantly spends the night in Ramshackle to be able to check on you easier. He gets anxious sometimes. It’s gotten to the point where the ghosts have started bringing an extra chair to the dinner table for him.

“What? No I wasn’t worried over you, I know you can handle yourself. My ears aren’t drooping either!”

[ampgirladmirer]

That's how I became a disabled one.

This is an old story I found and tried to translate.

It all started in my early youth. I broke my shins on both legs, spent almost three months in bed and three in a wheelchair, then almost as many months on crutches. And I liked it. Then two more times I managed to "organize" two or three months with crutches. I thought, "What if I didn't have a leg…"

Then I got married, had two children… I kind of forgot about it. But my legs started to get tired and sore. The doctors found something, among the prescriptions and options for the future flashed that "if…, you just might end up legless!". This suddenly made a big, even amazing impression on me.

A year later, I just wanted to "end up" like that! We discussed it all with my husband, it was like a mind game, a flight of fancy. A leg, both legs, an arm, hands, legs and one arm, all limbs at all...

Just a week later, in the evening, when the children were already put to bed, my husband suddenly said that it seems that there is an opportunity to do my surgery now and "almost at will". In the development of the thought I said "Let's not be trifling, let's just amputate all at once - arms and legs!"

It turned out that everything is quite serious. And real!

My husband had a contact in medical circles, who made up my oncology with the need for a corresponding operation. Of course it was scary. But to regret all my life that we did not take the chance - no way. I gave up and decided. A couple more weeks we thought about what kind of surgery to do. The first possible option me and my husband were thinking of, "all four limbs at all", was inconvenient, it's hard to be totally limbless in everyday life. I really wanted to have very small leg stumps, and at least one empty sleeve…

At work, the message that in a week I go the hospital with oncology for amputation of the leg made a shocking impression. The main motive was "how will you live as a cripple?" They didn't know what kind of surgery I was going to have!

To be honest, I still have a vague idea of how my "disease" was organized. I remember in the hospital being very afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing and being compromised. It was good that they kept me for only four days before the operation….

The first half an hour after I came to my senses after the operation is etched in my memory.

I was lying alone in the room, covered up to my neck with a blanket. My right hand was on the edge of the bed with a drip stuck in it. I tried moving my left arm. No effect. Tried to lift my head to look at myself. I could see that on the left side the blanket was lying somehow flat and the "bump" from my feet was not visible in the bed. I didn't have the strength for more.

The nurse came in and, seeing that I was awake, asked me how I was feeling. I asked to go to the toilet and was told affectionately that I had a diaper on. And I finally gave out the question that had been tormenting me: "My right arm - do I have only one arm now?" The nurse blinked and for some reason whispered, "Yes." I asked, "And the legs?" The nurse nodded frantically and scurried away. And I finally realized that THIS had happened. I lay in the bed with only a diaper on, legless and one-armed.

A day later, I saw my stumps. My legs were amputated high above the knees, my left arm - completely. That's how I became a disabled woman.

===========

For a very long time I learned how to sit up, crawl. Then how to handle a wheelchair. I could never learn to get into a wheelchair on my own, it's quite hard being left legless and only with one hand. I won't lie that I didn't regret what I did. I did, especially at first. I regretted it very acutely when, about a year after the surgery, my seven-years-old daughter came up to my wheelchair, stroked the empty sleeve of my housecoat, and asked, "Mom, did they cut off your arm for good?"

But eventually I adjusted to the situation, got used to a wheelchair, learned, and began to live normally. My husband helped me a lot. And that I lost an arm and legs by my own will - so who cares about that? I have a beautiful family. There are lots of things I can't do anymore, of course. So what of it? I have the most important things for a woman - a husband and children. I'm helpless in the house, but not completely. In bed, I'm not helpless. And the comparison of what was before the operation and the current state is in favor of the latter. I have long since concluded that amputated legs is a very positive moment for sex. If the stumps were shorter, it would be even better. Probably not without reason, I dreamed of having my legs operated on as high as possible.

I think that everything worked out very well.

At home, I'm almost always in a wheelchair. And for some reason, I never got used to my disability being visible.

That's how I turned out to be - a voluntary disabled woman.

And in the summer I even tried to feel as if it was "all four...". The kids were at grandma's, my husband was on vacation. And I had my only arm tightly bandaged to my body, so that it was immobile. And I lay a week like that. I immediately felt crippled and helpless. My husband nursed me like a baby. It's nice to be the center around which everything else revolves. But when he took the bandage off and I got my arm back! Back to being a regular disabled woman in a wheelchair, legless an one-armed, with a husband I love and two kids.

Trying to repeat my life trick is strongly discouraged. Too much depends on other people. First of all, on your man who is there for you in life.