#i feel like i understand the tubes now or at least we have an understanding

[immortalsins]

COACH BOOKED HOSTEL RESERVED IM GOING TO LONDON TOMORROW AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[marzipanandminutiae]

"EUROPEANS ATE GROUND-UP EGYPTIAN MUMMIES!!!! ALL THE TIME!!!"

sounds much more dramatic than

"Europeans sometimes consumed ground-up Egyptian mummies, or fluid found inside the chest cavities of mummies, or a type of tree resin that became associated with mummies because it kind of looked like the bitumen used in the embalming process, or the dried and ground flesh of very specific European dead- most likely a bit of all of the above at various times in various places. but it's hard to say what the proportion of each was- and at least one early Middle Eastern physician, Abd al-Latif al-Baghdadi from modern-day Iran, also advised the use of the Body Cavity Liquid variety hundreds of years before the first documented use of mummy by Europeans. so it was a medicinal thing in the areas from whence the mummies came, too. unsurprising seeing as a lot of cultures- including Europeans -have done Corpse Medicine with their own people for centuries. there was also been pushback against the medicinal use of mummies in Europe since at least the 16th century; it remains unclear how popular the notion was at any given time. so the answer to Is This A Good Symbol For The Effects of European Colonialism In Egypt remains a resounding 'ehhh...?'"

"because the whole idea is, is it not, that Europeans were literally consuming the dead bodies of a non-European people who would have had no reason to sell their dead without a European market. and that's kind of true! there was a market that created a demand! but they were also already putting the bodies to these uses closer to home before Europeans started, because this whole thing began with both Arab and European doctors misinterpreting other Arab doctors who were talking about the medicinal qualities of tree resin. so really it's not as simple a situation as we might like to believe."

"and Mummy Brown paint is like this whole other situation where it was supposed to be made from ground-up mummies but often wasn't because Cost-Cutting, and a lot of artists didn't really like it anyway, and others used it thinking the name only referred to the color, and one time Edward Burne-Jones attempted an Egyptian funeral for a tube of Mummy Brown paint because he was so horrified with the origins, so while that's a more straightforward as an Oh Shit Violent Colonialism situation, people merrily waltzing into shops and buying one tube of Dead Egyptian Person, please, my good man! wasn't quite as widespread as one might now think"

"for me, the more compelling image of Europe Fucking Egypt Over is that of a white archaeologist peering curiously into a pit where Egyptian people are working tirelessly to excavate a tomb, their names to be lost to history in favor of whatever rich white person they toiled for. even that image is not without complicating factors- I, imagining it, am a white woman who cannot ask those Egyptian men what they think and feel about all their role in all this -but to me it seems more reliable than the VERY complex and often misinterpreted history of the mummy trade, even as I understand it after like an hour of research"

"on the OTHER HAND, does it even matter if people in the Middle East were already doing mummy medicine, when Europeans increased demand? does it even matter if Europeans felt bad or at least grossed out about Mummy Brown paint or if it wasn't ~always~ real mummies? maybe it doesn't! maybe my instincts as a history worker to say It's More Complicated are clouding my judgment on the nature of colonialism! or maybe they aren't! or maybe different people will think I'm right or think I'm full of shit and that's just the nature of doing public history on The Tungles!"

"anyway I have COVID and should probably go to bed now"

"this article and the Wiki page for Mummia are very well-sourced"

[yawnderu]

Living Dead Man - Zombie!Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

What is a husband but a man with a rotting body you can barely recognize?

CW: body horror, gore, tongue kiss with a dead man(?), is she wrong? morally, angst with a happy ending.

You examine the man as if he was under a microscope, milky white eyes staring back at you with the same intensity they always did. His balaclava was ripped off halfway, revealing a dislocated jaw, the bits of skin you could see while he was wearing his uniform were now all mangled up and pale, a contrast to the surprisingly soft skin Simon had before.

''Don't bite me.'' You warn and the zombie simply lets out a grunt in response. It has been a week since he turned, and it took hours of convincing the rest of the 141 to let you keep him— with the pretext that you could use him to try and find a cure, and maybe that was true. There was nothing you wanted more than to find a cure and turn your husband back to who he used to be. So far, nothing was working.

''I'm going to draw some blood, okay? It might sting a little bit.'' Your tone is gentle and so are your hands, carefully lifting off his uniform sleeve to reveal his forearm, needle penetrating one of his protruding veins until the blood collection tube was full of his dark, purple blood. You removed the needle, grabbing a cotton ball and taping it with medical adhesive tape. You sigh as you put down the materials, sitting down in front of your former husband... does it count as former if he's not completely dead?

''I miss you a lot...'' You start, speaking to him the same way you have been doing ever since he went nonverbal, unable to speak due to the zombification and broken jaw. Based on the grunts and the way he looks at you, you convinced yourself he can understand and knows who you are.

''I'm trying hard to find a cure. I mean, I like to believe I'm sort of close... but I don't know if it'll do much since the necessary organs are already decomposing. I'm sorry, I feel like I failed you.'' Your voice is strained as your gloved hands hold his, tears rolling down your cheeks as you silently sob, bringing his hands to your face and giving his knuckles soft kisses, the same way you did back when he was alive.

''I don't think I can go on without you, Si... I don't want a life without you.'' Your heart breaks more when you hear a soft grunt, a noise you became familiar with, the same sound he made before, comforting you when he knew you were down. Your head snaps up and you can see a small tear roll down his pale cheek, your eyes open wide as you bask in on the discovering.

''So you are sentient to some degree.'' Fuck Element 115 and fuck the zombie who bit your husband, the bastard is sentient! A scoff of disbelief escapes your lips as you smile up at him. You may not have a cure yet, but at the very least, he's not fully gone. Your hands gently caress his decomposing cheeks, testing the waters as you slowly lean closer.

Closer...

Closer, until your lips are touching his bloodied, decomposing mouth, the broken jaw forcing you to have an awkward angle to make it work. His mouth parts slightly and you take the chance to slip your tongue inside, holding in your breath to not throw up at the smell of his rot. Surprisingly, you feel his cold tongue wrap around yours weakly, his poor attempt to kiss you with the little control he has of his motor skills. You break away for a second to take a deep breath, hands cupping his cheeks while you look deep into his eyes.

''I love you. I wish... things were different. I heard they'll bomb the entire country to get rid of the evidence of the virus.'' A small chuckle escapes your lips as he simply stares at you, tears blurring your sight while you lean your head on his shoulder, tears rolling down your cheeks while you try to stay quiet.

''I don't know what to do, Si... There's really no hope. Even if I found a cure for you, we don't have access to any planes to get out of here, and any neighboring country would kill you if they see you.'' You feel cold hands attempting to hold your waist and you look up just to find he was already looking down at you. Perhaps you're that delusional, but you could swear his milky white eyes softened. You try your best to put on a small smile, even if it doesn't reach your eyes.

''At the very least... we're together. I'll see you in the next life, my love.'' He grunts softly in response and you let out a soft laugh. You ignore the panicked screams ringing through the base, closing your eyes as your forehead rests against Ghost's, one last display of love before the bomb hits, wiping out of everything you ever loved.

''Hey.'' You call out softly to your colleague, holding a skull glove that slipped out of his uniform. He turns to look at you for a few seconds, his expression unreadable even when he remains unmasked.

''Earth to Simon?'' You tease, waving the glove around for a few seconds before he gently takes it from you.

''Thank you... Stray, was it?'' He asks, one of his thin blond eyebrows raising slightly as he looks down at you. You nod your head, offering him a warm smile. You were just introduced by Captain Price, yet it feels like...

''Do I know you? You look familiar.'' A small smile is seen on his lips before he looks away, trying to keep his emotions in check. He thinks about his answer for a few seconds before it all hits you. He's...

''Ghost?'' You ask, tears rimming your eyes as soon as he nods, his arms wrapping around you tightly while he holds a hand on the back of your head, not wanting to let you see the tears escaping his eyes as well.

''Found you, love.'' A second chance at life with him.

[seat-safety-switch]

If there is a truly painful part of our current existence, it is the decline of our most trusted brands. Venture capital scum are buying up the companies that made all of your dad's favourite junk, slapping the name on some absolute shit to make a quick buck, and then escaping with the profits to the cosmos.

Many of us grew up staring at the tools that our parents used. That kind of youth exposure – being forced through continuous exposure – trained us to know that these are the Good Tools. They will not let us down, not like the common garden-variety horseshit that clogs the shelves, in their ugly generic boxes. So it's extra harmful when their modern incarnations don't stand up to this childhood idyll.

Those of you who are regular readers of Adbusters will criticize us for ever trusting a brand name. And it's easy to see why, once you've been condescended at for long enough to understand what marketing has done to the human soul. These names mean nothing, and are easily manipulated by evil moneymen to induce an emotional attachment in the population rather than cold, hard, logical thinking.

The rest of us, who are apparently not visiting this cursed Earth from the halcyon era of late 2005, will waste at least two hundred dollars over the course of our lives. We do so by buying one of four identical piece-of-shit toy vacuums cynically wearing the Shop-Vac® name – at least twice – in case the first one was just a fluke. And it's not just sucky tubes that suck now: every brand with significant goodwill from the days of yesteryear is a victim of this. It's hard not to feel cheated.

There is good news, though. Paradoxically, it is now the ugly, dollar-store no-name brands that are pretty good. It's because those brands now mostly consist of the Taiwanese factories that got stiffed by these same vampire assholes in the first place. It turns out they make a pretty good power tool, too, as long as you're willing to buy them from Qwijibo Heavy Fabrication through a series of shell corporations, top-secret dead drops, and the sacrifice of a goat. I personally cannot wait the remaining six months to get my hands on a Qwijibo Throb-Master 9000, because I have a lot of mouse nests to pull out of my dad's old Ford. I'd buy a new one, but it's built like shit.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 32

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Threats of SA; Threats of harming an infant; Distressed baby

Rick had stopped at every sign, letting you out while Carol or Lori cared for Birdie. You had used a tube of the baby’s diaper cream to paint a white bird on each surface. There were likely better things you have used but this one, you knew Daryl would understand and follow. Anxiety was slowly crushing your chest and try as you might to swallow it down, it was nearly impossible to bear.

It was at least an hour of Birdie crying restlessly before the warehouse was found. The dead surrounding it were little in number, easily dispatched by those that weren’t a child, pregnant woman, or one who had a baby suckling at her breast. You carried a bag on each shoulder into the building, wishing it were enough to help you feel like you were doing your part. 

You sat away from the door, knowing that’s where Daryl would have placed you and his daughter, furthest from any entry point. It was also to hinder her cries from attracting anymore walkers. She was inconsolable, something—mother’s intuition, perhaps—telling you that she had been made worse by the absence of her father. And as much as you loved their bond, you wondered how dangerous it could prove to be to encourage it. 

“I said leave it, Lori!”

Your head snapped up to find Rick stalking toward the door with his wife on his heels, her hands below her protruding belly as she attempted to keep up with him. “Rick. Rick, we need to talk this out!”

“No!” He barked. “What we need to do is survive, and we can’t do that if I don’t stay focused.” When she tried again, he turned with a shake of his head, leaving her there with tears in her eyes. 

“Lori.” You whispered, getting to your feet. It was difficult to get off the floor with a baby but you managed. You couldn’t stand to see her like that. No, Lori wasn’t perfect and she made a mistake. She had been alone with a child, acting out of fear once she had been told her husband was dead. Maybe she had loved Shane. Maybe she hadn’t. No one talked about it and perhaps they shouldn’t. It was all irrelevant anyway. Lori was there and pregnant and hurting so deeply. “Hey.”

“Oh. Hey, uh—” The woman turned and wiped at her eyes as if you hadn’t already noticed the glimmer of moisture. “Hey, Y/N.” Her eyes were drawn down to the wriggling bundle in your arms, little squeaks and sniffles escaping from behind the blanket. “How’s little Birdie?”

“She’s fine.” You lied, flinching when the newborn screeched. Taking a moment to move her onto your shoulder and begin patting her back, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I think she’s missing Daryl.”

“Yeah.” A gentle hand reached to pet the back of Birdie’s head. “Y/N, I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Lori was always so strong for everyone, her thoughts on the decisions that would affect the group never going unspoken. But then, at that moment, she sounded so small, so uncertain. 

“Don’t be.” You caught her hand before she could pull it back, holding it tightly. “I love Rick but he’s wrong. He’s wrong and he’ll realize it. I’m just so sorry that he’s hurting you like this in the meantime.” You stood by your words. Rick was trying to do what was right for the group, but even that was being influenced by the anger he harbored. For Shane. For Lori. For himself. 

“I deserve it.”

You blinked, mouth agape. “You do not!” You shook your head incredulously. “Look, you made a mistake. Doesn’t mean you need to pay for it over and over.” She mimicked you, her hair swinging back and forth. 

“No, I really do.”

“Lori.” You said pointedly. She looked you in the eye, face wet and flushed. “I get it. You were angry with him for what he did to Shane. It was a lot to take in and maybe your first reaction wasn’t the best one, but you’re trying to talk now, trying to understand. He’ll come around.” You gave a shrug. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll sic Daryl on him.” You smiled when she laughed wetly. 

Lori reached for your shoulders, pulling you in for a wide hug that angled to one side, Birdie and her belly making it laughable. “Thank you, Y/N.” She wiped her face with one hand, cupping yours with the other. “You know, I was a fool for thinking you were trouble when Daryl carried you out of those trees. I’m sorry for that.”

You waved dismissively with a quiet pfft. “Don’t worry about it. I am trouble.” Her smile dampened but didn’t disappear. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” Birdie began to root against your neck with a series of coos and squeaks. “And we wouldn’t have this angel if you weren’t.”

Chuckling you began to wiggle your arm out of your shirt, Lori stepping forward to help. “Now if I can just get her daddy to eat as much as she does, we’ll be set.” Before you could situate your bra, the baby began to fuss, growing louder with each cry. 

“Well, she sure sounds like her father.” 

“Facts.” You nodded, grinning and guiding Birdie to your breast. “Grab Carl and come sit with me? We can work on some math.”

The sun had set, the knot in your chest growing tighter with each minute that Daryl didn’t walk through the door. Beth had taken Birdie to give you a few minutes of peace with Carol sitting just behind you. 

“He’ll be here. Daryl’s smart. And so are you for the signs you left for him.” She was brushing your hair, pampering you the only ways she knew how with the limited means at her disposal. 

“I hope he’s okay. What if he’s hurt? What if he ran into the herd?” You were twisting the front of the sweater you had thrown on when the temperature had dropped even lower. 

“He’s smart, Y/N.” You heard the quiet sound of the brush being sat aside. The woman’s hands began to work at your shoulders, eliciting a moan from you and a chuckle from her. “He’ll be here.” You nodded, hearing Birdie begin to cry in the back of the warehouse. 

“I’m being summoned.” You jested. Carol was smiling when you turned around and levered to your feet. Birdie was still crying, the sound echoing like a scene out of a horror movie. “Carol.” Your voice had gone low, serious. “Why isn’t Beth bringing her?”

“She’s likely trying to soothe her on her own. She looks up to you and wants to help.”

Beth looked up to you? Oh, that poor child. You were no one’s role model. 

You listened for a moment more, your brow creasing, lips turning downward in a deep frown. “Carol.” You waited for her reply before continuing. “You remember how you told me that I would be able to tell the difference between cries?”

“Yeah?”

“I think this one is telling me something’s wrong.” Your stomach was churning, the knot of anxiety twisting in your chest was no longer for Daryl but for Birdie, a deep sense of foreboding that your child was affirming. Something. Was. Wrong. 

“Okay. Okay, let’s go check in then.” 

You nodded, feet moving with such haste that it took the other woman a quick jog to catch up. Birdie’s squalling had reached a new level, the breaths between cries barely audible in their stuttering. Without thought, you began to run, your tired body attempting to futilely resist. 

“Beth? Carl?” You shouted, the sounds of snarls and hands slapping the outside of the building growing louder with each inch of space you covered. “Beth!” The girl wasn’t answering. Lori and Maggie frantically called your name from somewhere behind you but Birdie’s desperate wails for her mother easily drowned them out. 

When you saw her, so small and fragile on the cold concrete, little limbs flailing, nothing else mattered. There was no blanket. No knit hat on her head. She was in only a diaper. 

“Oh god, Birdie!” What happened? Where were Beth and Carl? You didn’t stop, you needed your baby in your arms. The reasoning no longer mattered. You needed to ensure her well being before asking any questions. Nearly there, you exhaled. 

“Y/N, look out!” 

Without breaking stride, you turned toward Rick’s voice just in time to see the butt of the rifle. 

And then there was nothing.

Your head was throbbing, your pulse finding its way up to where the wet warmth was leaking from just above your right eyebrow. Struggling to open your eyes, you strained to focus through the rush of blood in your ears, the pounding of dead hands on the building’s exterior, desperately locating your baby’s panicked screeching. 

“Birdie.” You whispered, certain it was slurring. Your mouth just couldn’t form around the syllables. When everything finally cleared, you could see her. The tremble from the cold shook her tiny form. “Oh my god.” You whispered, attempting to struggle to your feet only to find that your hands were bound to a weighty shipping palette. 

Subduing your panic long enough to survey your surroundings, the glow of three kerosene lamps cast a pale yellow luminosity over the entirety of your group—similarly bound—with Rick and Beth struggling against the rope while the other heads remained bowed in a subdued level of unconsciousness. You turned your attention back to your newborn and renewed your fight against the restraints, your skin chafing and breaking open. 

“Mama’s here, baby girl.” Birdie would not be consoled. If anything, she grew more agitated. 

“So you’re the one stupid enough to have a shit-smearing biter magnet.” 

Your head snapped to the left, toward the roll-up doors. A group you hadn’t noticed leaned against the metal, armed to the teeth and reeking of mayhem. 

“The fuck do you want?” You snarled, a protective mother’s venom lacing every word. 

The single woman in the posse laughed, malicious and entertained. “Some fun.” She shrugged, her face split into a grin that made your teeth itch. “That’s really all there is left in this world. Survival and fun.” Lowering her rifle from its perch on her shoulder, she crossed the distance between the two of you and crouched. “We’re gonna take everything you have.” A finger traced your jawline, down your neck and circled your clothed nipple. “Everything.”

“Then we’re gonna let that gremlin bring the biters in to take care of the rest.” One of the men added without so much as a glance away from his handgun, the walkers growing louder as if they could hear and comprehend the promise of a fresh meal. 

Giving your breast a squeeze, the woman stood, scanning your group appreciatively before her eyes lingered on Lori. “Boys, you can take that one. I got no interest in that full belly.” She pointed the barrel of her gun at you. You never so much as flinched, your baby’s wails fueling a rage you’d never before felt. “I want her. And the kids.”

“You’re vile.” Hershel said in that level tone that usually ground on your nerves. In that moment, you found it more than fitting. 

“Ugh,” the female rolled her eyes. “Kill him first. No one wants those wrinkly old balls in their face.”

The words left you before you could even consider their consequences. “You’re gonna die today.” When she smirked at you, your steely glare remained. She lowered to a knee and pressed the muzzle into your chin. You barely contained a wince when your head was forced to tilt back. 

“What I’m gonna do is fuck that ruined pussy with this rifle and listen to your baby scream.”

Twisting onto your left hip, you brought up your right leg, your boot connecting with her temple just as she sat back. “Bitch.” You seethed, watching her topple over. Another man rushed you, his fist snapping your head to the side, reigniting the stars in your vision that you had only just managed to lose. 

“She’s gonna be fun, boys.” Staggering to her feet, she stumbled over to Birdie and pointed the rifle at the infant’s head. “Maybe I’ll just shoot the little one and let your screams bring the biters in when we’re done with you.”

“No!” Your anger faded to fear within a split second, the various voices of your then conscious and collective group pleading for your baby’s life. “Okay, okay. I’ll cooperate!” You bartered. “Just wrap her up. Please.” 

“I don’t think so, mama bear.” 

A noise from the front of the warehouse drew her attention, but not yours. Your wide, wet eyes were glued to that gun aimed at your daughter. Please, Daryl.

“Think the biters got in?” An older guy asked, hocking up mucus and spitting it at your feet. 

“Maybe. Go check it out.”

He obliged with a shrug, whistling the entire way until he disappeared into the darkness. 

The taunting continued, the other three group members moving from person to person, pointing out in disturbingly vivid detail what they liked or disliked about that individual. You paid them no more mind, instead watching the little contorted red face of your baby girl. You couldn’t warm her, comfort her. How could I let this happen?

“What the fuck?” 

Blinking back the fat tears you had given silent permission to fall, you followed everyone’s perplexed gazes toward the front of the warehouse. The old man staggered out of the darkness, a spray of blood his predecessor. His throat was gaping wide. 

“Gary?” The woman hyperventilated, her rifle nearly falling from suddenly inept fingers as his body collapsed to the concrete, not to move again. He must have meant something to her. 

Good. You smiled wryly. 

“Come out!” One of the other men shouted, prompting crazy lady to raise her own weapon. 

Your eyes flickered back to Birdie, yanking and wiggling against your bonds again, the ropes wet with your blood and unyielding. The baby was wearing herself out, cries simmering to shivering breaths and hiccups. The ropes did not give. Bitch could tie a knot, you’d give her that. 

“Oh.” The woman’s voice was suddenly excited as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “I think papa bear’s joined the party.” She made a show of deliberately placing herself just above Birdie, moving her rifle a fraction of an inch before you watched Daryl, blood-saturated and dirty, step out of the shadows.

“Don’t point that thing at ‘er again.” He wasn’t pleading. He was demanding. 

The woman’s eyes sparkled, her free hand covering her mouth in an oopsie expression while she redirected the gun—finger on the trigger—right at you. “Is this better, your majesty?” In a flurry of clicks and shouted warnings, Daryl’s crossbow was aimed at her while all other weapons held him in their crosshairs. 

“M’a give ya one chance to walk outta here.”

She cackled, throwing back her head. “I don’t think you’re—”

“One chance.” Daryl repeated, his mouth unseen from behind his weapon. “Ya’d do well to take it.” There was a tremble to his frame visible even from the distance that lay between you. If you could see it, so could they. The only difference being that you knew it wasn’t from fear. 

“I want him too.” The woman jerked her chin toward your partner. “Put down the bow, pretty boy. You’re not gonna waste any ammo today.”

“Won’t be a waste.” With a quick twist of his torso, three things happened simultaneously: The crossbow fired. The ropes around your wrists went slack, the sleek length of the bolt pressing just against your skin. And Daryl stepped back into the shadows, a barrage of bullets following his retreat. 

With the enemies’ attention on the unknown whereabouts of the archer, you scrambled across the floor and scooped up your baby, throwing yourself backward onto your ass to slide behind the pallets that had held you. Her skin was so chilled, her tiny frame shivering as her distressed cries renewed in their intensity. 

“Mama’s got you, baby. Daddy’s here. Daddy came for us. It’s okay.” One arm at a time, you managed to pull yourself free of your sweater and bundled her up. You drew up your knees and held her close to your chest, shielding and warming her simultaneously. “They won’t touch you again.” 

Glass shattered, the area dimming as a bolt destroyed one of the old lamps. 

“Come out, you bastard!” 

Another lamp fell victim to Daryl’s aim. 

“Where is he?”

With a final sound that echoed for more than a moment, the environment was cast into darkness with only the myriad of gunfire battling the shadows that Daryl was using to his advantage. With each discharge, you curled tighter around your daughter, her howls splintering every inch of your heart. You longed to hold her properly, soothe her, fight away the fear that clawed relentlessly to sink its claws into such a space of innocence. You wanted to join the fray, rip out their throats, but Birdie needed you exactly where you were.

And she would always come first.

The number of weapons that fired continued to dwindle, the cling of metal against the concrete preceded by a shout or gurgle. 

Your archer was taking them down one by one. 

You wanted to see it, wanted to witness them suffer, even if it was for a mere moment but you couldn’t—wouldn’t—risk Birdie’s safety. 

“Someone get him!”

“Where the hell  is he?!”

“The fuck should I—” Another gurgle, another thud. 

“Fuck!” The woman screamed, her voice carrying from somewhere further away. You couldn’t be certain if Daryl had intercepted her or if she was simply fleeing, but as long as she was far away from your group—your family—you didn’t care. 

“Y/N.” Carol’s voice somehow managed to break through the chaos in your head, your eyes searching her out in the darkness. “Y/N, he got them. Can you—” 

“Yeah.” You breathed shakily, unfurling from around Birdie to shuffle blindly forward, bowed over the little bundle to ensure you didn’t knock her into anything that might be in your way. “Yeah, I’m coming.” 

You found Rick first, cutting his ropes one-handed with a piece of glass from one of the lamps. Lucky you, it had been found by sliding your knee over it. 

“Take care of her, I’ll get everyone else.” He instructed. You nodded, knowing the deputy couldn’t see but it was all you had in you at that moment. 

“Where’s Daryl?” Beth asked, her young mind falling right into sync with yours. 

Why hadn’t he come to you immediately? Was he hurt? Had he given chase to the woman? 

You squinted against the flashlight’s beam, one eye clenching shut as you found Carol kneeling over one of the men, a bolt lodged in the right side of his neck. His head was at an odd angle, suggesting that the puncture had not been the end for him. 

With your family surrounding you, all eyes wide and cautious, looking for danger, watching for Daryl, you finally settled but only in the slightest. Muscles still tense, you shifted Birdie, drawing up your knees to place her on your elevated thighs. 

“Hey, there, little Dixon. Ssh, it’s all okay now.” Slipping a hand beneath the sweater, the relief of feeling warming skin nearly brought you to collapse. 

“How is she doing?” Hershel asked, his voice elevated to be heard clearly over the distraught infant. Your strength was nearly at its end. 

“She’s cold, Hershel. It—the sweater’s helping but she’s still so cold.” Your fingers were stroking her cheeks, brushing through wispy blonde hair, rubbing her belly over the sweater while careful of the drying umbilical cord. 

“Babies are resilient, Y/N. And this little doll just happens to have the genes of one of the most stubborn men I have had the pleasure of knowing.” A gentle hand rested on your shoulder. “I’d like to take a look at her all the same. May I?”

With a sniffle, you lifted Birdie, her tiny head just beneath your chin. One last gentle squeeze, you supported her head and passed her over to the veterinarian, scrubbing your hands over your face as you stood. You must have looked a wreck, but you needed to find Daryl, needed to hold him almost as desperately as you had needed to cling to your child. 

“Please! Just let me go!”

You spun where you stood, searching out the woman. “Daryl?”

“Were ya gonna let them go?” Daryl’s voice was menacing, his tone low and bleeding with promise of maleficence. You were acutely aware of others trailing as you followed the voices, moving boxes and stepping around tools to climb the stairs to the second level.  

“I—”

“Mm-mm. Don’t.” He spat, the sound of more containers falling over against the wall. “Don’t bother.” 

He came into view a little at a time, more with each step you climbed. His crossbow was on the floor. His crimson hands were empty. Still, the woman cowered, backing toward the windows with her body folded, palms up over her head in surrender. 

“Daryl!” You tried, but he didn’t acknowledge you. 

“Just let me go. I’m the only one left and I—Please, I don’t wanna die.”

Suddenly your feet wouldn’t carry you, heavy laden and stuck to the floor with the weight of your disbelief. You wanted to laugh just as much as you wanted to pluck the knife strapped to Daryl’s hip and slit her throat yourself. 

“Ya threatened my girl. Ya wanted to use my daughter as walker bait!” The archer hissed, his fingers flexing in and out of fists. “A fuckin’ baby an’ ya wanted to kill ‘er.”

You could hear the others at the top of the stairs, halting just behind you with the same interest of watching the scene play out, trusting Daryl to do what was right. 

But what was right?

“Ain’t gonna kill ya.” He finally said, tilting his head as the woman began to stand straight, the fear dissolving before your eyes. Daryl was a better person than you could ever be. If he walked away, it was going to take every single individual on that landing to restrain you. 

“Thank you. I’m so sorry. Thank you. I’ll disappear, I’ll change. I won’t—”

He moved so fast, grabbing her shoulders while driving the sole of his boot straight into her knee, the sickening snap of bone causing your stomach to roll while a sense of vindication washed over you. 

She needed to hurt. She needed to suffer.

Her screams stimulated the walkers around the building, their rotten fingers scraping against the metal, palms pounding, teeth gnashing. 

Daryl spoke loudly, holding her up by fistfuls of her shirt, his face inches from hers. “Said I ain’t gonna kill ya. Never said ya weren’t gonna die.” He shoved her, his boot once again connecting with her body, a kick to the abdomen with enough force to send her soaring backward. She crashed through the window, nothing but the splintered wood and shards of glass accompanying her to the ground.

Straight into the herd of ravenous undead. 

And her blood curdling wails of agony were music to your ears. 

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: Can you open up the door?

A/n: she takes you to her home, lovingly sheltering you from the heavy downpour so rare in LA. Takes you, and it seems, your love and all the inner contradictions along with fears caused by the public.

Inspired by the atmosphere of "CHIHIRO".

You know perfectly well that arguing with Eilish's decisions is a losing proposition, not in all cases, but in the vast majority of them. Your clothes are soaked to the skin, and the wind, though not quite cold but assertive, hints that all this will leave a mark on your immunity in the near future. Only as long as you can hear her voice on the other line, you don't care at all, frankly. You clench your chilled fingers a little tighter and hold the phone closer to your ear, because the rain noise makes it hard to hear her.

"You don't even know where I am right now."

"I know and I'm on my way to Amir's Garden to pick you up," she says uncompromisingly, and you realize Billie is really serious when you hear the click of a seatbelt and the noise of an engine in the background. Fucking hell! A puzzle quickly forms in your head: surely Finneas must have told her everything, knowing your plans. You think, you're need to talk a little less about yourself.

"Wow, what a commanding tone, Ms. O'Connell," - your pathetic attempt at defensive irony is immediately shot down by her chuckle, but you don't want to end this game. - "Do you like to lead?"

"Do you still doubt it?" - the slight hoarseness in her voice awakens a short-term flash of current in the back of your head, dispersing a pack of goosebumps on your hands and speeding up your heartbeat. You almost exhale deeply into the tube, but you pulls yourself back in time - it's too ambiguous a gesture, she shouldn't know. Not now. There is a slight mutual silence on the wire and you are content with the barely perceptible rustle of wheels, bringing thoughts and feelings into relative order.

"Just don't go anywhere, okay?"

"I was waiting in the garden, contemplating, beg your pardon," - you smirk softly, humming the now so appropriate line.

"It's not fair to mock me with my own songs, girl."

"Leave me at least something, Eilish," - you smile, imagining her childishly sly expression frozen in imaginary offense.

You drop the call and lean your back against the trunk of a tree with a spreading crown. Well, all that's left is to wait.

×××

"Damn, you're all wet!"

"Can we be a little less blatant, Billie?" - you plop down into the passenger seat next to her, slipping your seatbelt on in one motion until it clicks into place. It's impossible to wipe the smirk off your face after this joke. Naturally, you lost in your verbal altercation and Eilish arrived as she wanted, but no one forbade you to get even at the expense of lewd jokes, right?

"Shut up, you know what I meant," - Billie snorts amusedly, blue eyes sweeping over you from head to toe. - "I just want to help you, my underdog and... I missed you."

You meet her eyes and sparks shoot up in the back of your head again, like multi-colored fireworks, and the cog of anxiety that has been a regular in your head lately starts to slowly spin, revealing before your eyes the endless lines of negative comments you've read today. What bad timing.

"Is something wrong?" - and you're not even surprised. Billie reads people like an open book, her incredible talent that you sometimes get a little jealous of.

"A little later, Bils, I promise," - the gray highlights merge with the infinite blue of her irises - understanding mixed with worry. You gently touch her hand resting calmly on the gearbox and deftly interlock your fingers, creating an overall perfect puzzle. The feel of her skin makes you feel so warm inside. - "I missed you too, love."

Eilish blurs into a smile, clinging to the last word, which is new to both of you, and your heart does a somersault. You've only been dating for a week and you need to get used to this. Going from being friends to lovers is a strange but pleasant thing.

"Shall we go?"

"You don't deserve her!", "Another affair, pfft...", "Disgusting!" - The cog speeds up, causing your single nervous exhalation to shatter the silence of the cabin as if you had shotgunned the roof above you two.

Her lips touch your knuckles on the palm still closed with her, saving you from the captivity of the stinging words of Internet strangers. The sound of rain rhythmically drumming on the body of the Dodge suddenly fills your ears. She seems to know everything.

"Please, can I stay with you?" you look at Eilish as if she were a prayer altar: blue eyes reflecting your deep hope mixed with fatigue and helplessness. Warm smile of her beautiful lips is your impulse to confessional.

"I wasn't going to let you go, silly."

×××

You reach her house in silence: no unnecessary questions and jokes, just the sound of a non-stop downpour. Billie is completely focused on the road, and with your finger you are already drawing the eighth heart on the fogged window, like amulets from voracious thoughts. Dodge smoothly pulls into the parking lot, and you don't really remember how you find yourself in her bedroom, sitting lost on a huge bed.

"Hey, my girl," - the back of her palm touches your cheek incredibly softly, causing you to immediately stare at her. Eilish is kneeling in front of you, in her arms a warm red sweater with two white stripes in it, and her eyes are pure silver steel. It's not clear if she's mirroring the frowning sky looming outside the huge panoramic bedroom window, or if anxiety is stirring so strongly within her, crowding out all the peaceful blue of her irises. - "Put it on, I don't want you to get sick."

"It's from the CHIHIRO shoot, right?" - you take off your wet T-shirt and folding it accurately, as if won't throw it in the wash. Billie pulls the sweater over you, nodding affirmatively. The gray steel of her eyes doesn't open from you for a second. - "I've never seen 'Spirited Away'. It's silly, but as a kid I was always scared about those pigs and turned off the TV right away, and over time I just plain forgot I wanted to watch it to the end."

"Do you want to watch it together?" - her hands touch your waist, gently stroking your sides as if supporting you through the touch. If you were in a different frame of mind, you'd let go of a million jokes. The domineering Eilish kneeling in front of you is quite a display.

"I don't think the person who wrote an entire song about this anime would be interested," her palms calculatingly slowly slide off your waist to obligingly offer you warm house shorts. - "You've probably reviewed it back to back."

"With a girl like that, looking so mind-blowing in my sweater, I'm ready to look at least a thousand more times," - she moves a little closer to your face, lifting herself slightly on the arms on either side of your hips. Her lips, where you instantly shifted your gaze to, now have the hottest smirk you've ever seen in your entire life. You feel the flame of embarrassment flicker across your cheeks. Billie bites her lower lip and you immediately look at the top of her head, out of harm's way. For the first time, you notice that she's a little wet herself, running out of the car with you.

"Only if you wear a sweater too so you don't get sick, O'Connell." - you kiss her gently on the forehead, because kissing on the lips is still embarrassing. She agrees.

×××

"Haku, you know, my mom told me... I don't remember much myself. When I was little, I fell into a river once. Now the river's been filled in. They built houses there. But I just remembered! I remembered what it was called." - You watch the little girl fly on the dragon under the moon itself, holding onto its horns, and suddenly you feel Еilish's hands pull you closer into her arms. You only rest your head on her shoulder, relaxing completely and covering your eyes for a second against the coziness around you. - "It was called - Amber River. Kohakugawa. Your real name is Kohakugawa."

"I know everything, y/n. I know they write everything," Billie whispers softly, scorching your ear with hot breathing. You immediately jump up, open your eyes abruptly, and stare at her with an understanding and frightened look, echoing exactly the emotion of Kohakugawa himself. - "Hey, hey, hey! Relax, baby, I'm right here."

Billie deftly grabs the remote and pauses the footage with a barely audible click of a button, and your anxiety cog is spinning in your head again, winding up your sanity at an insanely fast pace. Again a shroud of avatars with mostly pictures of her, again a cluster of venomous the letters, "You don't deserve her!", "She's probably with her out of pity.", "Billie has everything but taste in girls." Click, click, click! You put your hands on your head like you're covering your ears. O'Connell reaches her hands toward you, and you leap out of bed in one strong and sharp, the word of a bucket of boiling water being splashed on you. It becomes so damn hard to breathe. The steel in her eyes, even in the semi-darkness of the room is intense and red-hot to the extreme.

"Y/n..."

"They're all right, Billie! I don't deserve you! I'm such a fucking coward!"

You grab desperately at the collar of your sweater, the word that imaginary lump in your throat is about to cause asphyxiation if you don't. Your hands shake uncontrollably, your gaze darting from side to side, clinging to the huge plasma, to the chair, to the corners of the sheets hanging from the bed, but returning to her each time. You see her slowly rise from the bed. You see it, and you immediately run to the stairs without even thinking about it. The cog clicks wildly, drowning out even the sound of footsteps that immediately overtake you. Your hands cling to the railing as you twisted your ankle on a hurried descent. Close your teeth tightly against the waves of acute pain and run, run, run!

But you realize you can't, leaning back powerlessly against the wall, already near the door. You can't because it hurts too much to run, and you can't because you love her too much. Billie pushes you against the wall even tighter in a second, looming over you like a hurricane. Arms spread on either side of you. You're trapped. Her breath hitches a little, scorching your neck, but her face shows nothing like anger, only seriousness and concern. She stares at you so intently that you think the wall behind you is about to crack and fall to dust.

Confident, yet lost in words, she finds nothing better than her own lines

"Open up the door, can you open up the door?" - she touches both palms to your face and you feel for the first time how much they shaking, - "I know you said before you can't cope with any more..."

"That's my favorite line from your song," - you flap your nose, realizing you really can't take it anymore.

"I know."

And you cry, shamelessly and right in front of her. You feel the salty, clear paths from your eyes dripping down her arms, see the worried silver in her eyes change to their usual tantalizing ghostly blue. You feel her clutch you in hers tightly, sliding down the wall with you. You hiss at the pain in your ankle and she shudders fearfully, fingers touching your chin and lifting your head. Your gazes meet and you see the weeping oceans opposite, so bright against the pinkish whites. She is crying along with you.

"Did you fall? God, y/n, we have to...," - her pleasant husky voice twitches with worry and tears, and you cover her neat, plump lips with yours, silencing her. She responds immediately, biting your lower lip lightly in a silent plea for more. You obediently open your mouth, immediately meeting her tongue. You feel the salt from your tears and the heat in your heart. True, and much lower, too.

"I'm scared, Billie," - you say honestly, palms resting on her collarbones. The cog in your head immediately fall with a clatter, crack in two. - "I said I wouldn't be afraid of some strangers' opinions, but it turned out not to be like that at all. I seem to be hated now, even for just breathing."

"I understand, my heart," - Billie put her arm around you, her hands stroking your back. From your shoulder blades to your tailbone, over and over again. - "But I chose you, not any of them, remember. You are my conscious choice. You are my love."

You hear her reply, finally finding the reassurance you need. "You are my conscious choice." The storm of words subsides as you standing this phrase on a shelf in your head like a trophy. The wreckage of the cogwheel of worry dissolves altogether, disappearing into infinity.

Eilish catches your smile and kisses you immediately. Your hands cling at her neck, and she moans gutturally as she gets what she wants. But she pulls away immediately:

"We need to take care of your ankle first, dumbass. I'll dial the number of a docotra I know."

"And then?" - you ask so childishly naive as Billie helps you gently stand up and you walk leisurely toward the couch in her living room.

"And then we'll watch this anime and I'll take back every kiss you owe me when I've been gentlemanly patient." - She sits you down on the soft couch, plopping down next to you. With her hand, she immediately pulls out her cell phone from the pocket of her home shorts. - " To make sure you heard exactly what I said."

"Thank you. For everything."

And later you do make out to one of Hayao Miyazaki's great masterpieces, just as she promised.

[toulousewayne]

Wake Up : A Bat Family One-Shot

———

Beep….Beep….Beep.

That’s the only sound in the room. That and the sounds of the tubes contracting. The room is full of your brothers and father. Alfred had stepped out to speak with the doctors.

Bruce sat in a chair to your right with Damian on the opposite side of your hospital bed. Tim sat like a cat perched in the window seal. Gotham City in her rainy and gloomy glory was just beyond the glass. Though it seem a lot more dim then normal. Jason had snapped and left an hour ago. Dick was in the corner pf the dim room not meeting anyone’s gaze.

“I’m sorry.” Bruce managed to choke the words out. They were the first words he said to you since you fight hours ago.

You were Bruce’s Daughter, and you too didn’t always see eye to eye. But he loved you in his own way only Bruce could understand. He gently pushed a stray piece of hair away from your face.

Beep…Beep…Beep.

That was the only reply he gotten. He replayed early tonight over and over like it had his parents deaths for many years.

——

“Are you fucking serious!” You hissed at him. You glared daggers at your father.

“Y/n”

“No, you told me the reason you and canceled on me was because of some life saving event,” That was true, Bruce had canceled on her for the millionth time this week alone.

“I didn’t lie to you,” he spoke monotonously. “Clark asked me to accompany Jon and Damian on a mission.” He took a sip from his wine.

“Oh, I forgot your Boy’s clubhouse.” She spat.

—-

Bruce gently brushed your black and red knuckles. He let out a deep wounded sigh. Dick glanced over and narrowed his gaze. “This is all your fault.”

Bruce didn’t meet his gaze. “I didn’t make time for her I know that, I don’t your in put here Dick.” He said his name so cold it was almost as if that was he was calling him rather than calling his name.

Tim scoffed,”You both are to blame.” Dick shot his gaze to the college student nearly giving himself second degree whiplash.

“And what do you mean by that,Timmy?” The older man gaze never leaving the younger one.

“We all know Bruce blows everyone off unless it’s about the mission. You just do it because you don’t care about anyone but your Team or your girlfriend.”

Dick stares down at his brother and crosses the room some he’s with earshot of him.

“Tim that’s bullshit and you know it,” he tries to keep his anger in but it’s simmering and he could pop at any giving moment, “I do my best to be there,and yes I can be everywhere at once but I do try. At least I try to be.”

The room felt silent again with everyone’s on the comatose girl. The fight between them feeling as though it dismissed itself within seconds. Dick shoves his hands in his pockets and turns on his heels.

“I’m gonna go to the cafeteria, I’ll be back.” No one stops him. The door shuts softly and the only sound is the machines and the rain on the window.

A knock on the door brings everyone back to earth. It’s Alfred. “The Commissioner is here, he needs a moment with you Master Bruce.”

Bruce excuses himself and leaves the room.

——

Jason takes a long puff and the smokes leaves his lips. He looks toward the city through a rainy night. The red light the hospital cases a highlight on his face.

He blew up on Bruce twice tonight, not that he didn’t feel that it wasn’t necessary he did. But it didn’t change the pit in his stomach, nor the smells of gasoline, burning rubber, and metal.

He remembers everything.

——

“You avoiding me too?” He turns to the doorway of the library. You walk into the light of the fireplace.

“No but I don’t have any interest in spending the night in my old room.” He fired back turning the page of his book and placing a bookmark in it before standing up.

She shakes her head at her big brother. “Forgot, if I’m not apart of the missions you guys forget about us on the surface.”

He clicks his tongue and huffs,”Not like that.”

She shakes her head and grabes his plate and mug. “Sure it’s not, we used to hang out but now that I do go out anymore it’s like I’m a ghost to him. You too.”

Jason doesn’t meet her gaze right away. “I’m not talking to Daddy Bats right now. I only came because Golden Boy wouldn’t stop blowing up my phone. I just got back from Columbia this afternoon. I’m just tired is all. I’m free in a day or two.” He rubbed his face and turned back to her.

“Forget it Jason, rain check.” She mumbled and walked out the room.

——

Jason puts out the smoke and stomps on it before pushing his shoulders away from the hospital and heads back inside.

——-

Dick sat at table in the corner in the cafeteria. He took a sip of his coffee which tasted like old dirt water. Then again it was 1 am.

He throws his head back rubbing his temples trying to massage away his stress to no avail.

He gets to his feet and leaves and heads down the hallway. The rush of the hospital in full swing. Doctors getting paged, the sounds of nurses making rounds, phone lines ringing,etc.

He took a sit in the main lobby. He closed his eyes for a moment thinking about the last time he spoke to his sister. It was growing on three weeks.

——

“So??”

Dick woke up from dosing off. He rubbed his eyes and sighed.”Sorry it’s been a long 24 hours.” He sighed and scratched Haley’s head.

“I can tell, you’re not sounding like yourself.” He picked up the phone and walked into the kitchen opening the fridge. It’s only contents being a Chinese takeout container, a pizza box that he got earlier, two cans of diet soda, half a case of beer and three water bottles.

He takes a water and downs it. “Tell me about it and with this mission around the corner I need to get some rest but I doubt it.”

“What mission?”

Dick stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t told anyone but Barbara and Bruce that he was leaving for San Francisco in the morning to meet with the Titans.

“I heading back to the Titans, we have to head to investigate a lead.” He almost whispered the last part.

The line was silent for a moment. “And how long will you be gone Dick?” He couldn’t make out her tone but he could tell she wanted a different answer that what he was going to tell her.

“A month maybe less maybe more I don’t know until I get back.”

“So you’re not coming to graduation then.” She said a little more with intensity.

He sighs,”Look I’m sorry I know I haven’t been around—

“That’s an understatement.” She cuts him off.

He rubs his face,”I’m come to the next event I promise.”

She scoffed,”And what’s that Dickie Bird? You missed Ballet recitals, High School graduation and now college. You missed everything? You and Bruce are not that far apart.”

“That’s not fair, it’s important what I’m doing.”

“You don’t miss Damian art exhibition? It’s or Donna’s new studio opening. You were there for Bruce for a charity dinner two months ago yet you couldn’t bother to call me or even come ten feet to me at the same dinner to tell me you weren’t even staying till the next morning to go out like you had planned for months! You don’t miss anything for anyone else because they’ll be disappointed,but it’s fine to flake on your sister and I’m so supposed to be okay with that!”

“I’m so sorry it’s really not like that, look I’ll make it up—“

“Don’t bother Grayson, for once in all these years I thought for once you were gonna show up for me. I was wrong.” He could hear the hurt in her voice. Before he could say anything else she hung up.

That was Three Weeks ago and they hadn’t spoken.

——-

Tim hadn’t moved from his spot in the window. He turned back towards the room. Damian was sleep in his chair. He turned his attention to his older sister.

He thinks about the last few hours tonight. How things got so ugly so fast.

—

“Y/n, you’re being ridiculous. It’s a mission in East Asia not strike.” Bruce replied.

She glared at her father. The room was silent. “Do you take me for one of blind followers.”

“Excuse me?”

She leaned down so she was eye level. “I’m not one of your soldiers, and that’s part of the problem isn’t it Father?”

He returns her gaze. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, I may not always be there for you but I’m trying.”

She laughes at him, “When was the last time you were there for me that wasn’t lurking in the shadows, or stopping one of the criminals you created from nearly killing me and thousands of other people.” He gaze never leaving her and his jaw when slack too.

“You sit there and smile for the news and the rest of the world like we’re one Big Happy Family but we have never been.”

Tim pushes his food with his fork. And sighs. She turns to him, “Anything you want to say Tim, we may as well get everything off our chest.”

He huffs,”No but this isn’t going to change anything. “

She grins,”I agree with Tim.” Jason and Dick stare a look and Damian as long stopped eating and is watching the spectacle.

“You do?” Bruce raises a brow at her. She nods again. “Tim’s right, you’re never going to change until you take your last dying breath. Because God Forbid your kids dying own your watch doesn’t register to you that you need to be present more.”

The air in the room was still.

Bruce doesn’t look at her. Jason doesn’t look away but his plate. Damian squirms in his seat and Dick clears his throat.

“I tried to be there.” Bruce finally speaks.

“But you weren’t, and no one is blaming you for that.” Alfred cuts in hopefully to stop the mess from going any farther.

She huffs,”No but I least that would change your perspective of only throwing yourself into harms way every damn night. All of you, it’s like you all don’t even stop to think about yourselves.”

“Sister we are all trained, even yourself.”

“That’s not the point. I’m not saying you’re not capable,” she tone softens,” I’m saying that most of the time you remember that and that’s all that matters. You don’t think what happens if you miss step, you underestimate the villains next move, or what the consequences are for you charging into a mission without a second thought.”

Bruce leans forward,”I know what the stakes are. You don’t think I don’t know what happens if I don’t stop and think about that. You don’t know anything about what I do at night, the were a child and didn’t want this life for yourself.” He stood up and looked at her in the eyes.

“I never wanted you to be apart of that life, I know you couldn’t handle it.”

The boys turn to look at their sister and Bruce.

“So you thought that little of me?” Tears formed in her eyes but anger was the clearest emotion across her face.

“I thought you didn’t need to do what we do, you’re better at what you do now.” Though Bruce thought he was being sincere his tone was more condescending and cold.

“Bruce!” Dick shouts.

“Screw you, you just wanted be to be apart of your image.”

It dawned on him how he hadn’t been able to properly communicate to her.

“Y/n that—

She took off from the table, she grabbed her purse and keys.

“Don’t worry Father, I wouldn’t want to tarnish your reputation.” She slammed the door and charged to her car. Not once slowing down even with Tim calling her phone multiple times and Damian yelling from the doorway.

She sped off through the gates and onto the road.

——

Y/n takes a sharp turn onto the main road and wipes her face with her sleeve. She sob to herself feeling so many things at once.

The sky opened and rain harmed down onto the road. “Great.” She turned on her wipers and lights and continued driving back towards the city to go to her apartment.

She ignored her phone that wouldn’t stop buzzing from calls from her brothers.

She felt like not just Bruce but they also thought so little of her. Maybe that’s why they didn’t want to spend time with her.

She graduated from Gotham University last night with a Bachelor Degree and yet it felt like she was alone. Alfred and the girls came. Bruce had missed the entire ceremony along with Damian. Tim was just landing from attending a business meeting in New York,Jason and Dick already had prior encounters.

She felt like she didn’t really feel like she belong with them. She snapped out of her daze and grabbed her phone inside of purse. She answered.

“Tim please you guys have got to stop—

A loud hoar range out and within seconds she looked to see a large truck. She attempted to move out of his way but it all happened to fast. She took a sharp right turn but the truck smashed head on the passenger side door causing everything to feel like a free fall. Her phone, contents of her purse falling all around her. She herself was jerked all over.

The car was immediately crushed by impacted and began to roll and tumble down the hill until it crashed into several trees.

Tim heard the crash and ran downstairs to where is his brother and Father were sitting in the study. By the tears on his face Bruce stood up and was in front of him.

“What’s wrong?”

“She was hit…the truck…I-i can’t hear her.”

—-

Bruce was racing down the road. Tim was still on the phone but all he could hear was beeping from the car and something tapping.

He stopped with red and blue light came into his view.

The two got out the car but two officers tried to block their paths.

“That’s my daughter let me through.” He order but the officers tried to keep him through but he managed to push the two men and run towards the site. Detective Montoya was at the scene.

“Please, how is she?” Bruce asked. Her expression was anything but hopeful.

“I don’t know Mr. Wayne I just got here, the Fire Department got her first and are working to get her free. As if on time two paramedics rushed down the side with an Orange board with straps. Moments later the returned with three firefighters carrying Y/n. Cuts, bruised and marks littered her body. Her eyes were black and blue and a tube was down her throat with a brack around her neck.

“Is she gonna be okay?” Bruce asked uneasily.

“We’re taking her to Gotham General, she stable but we have to go.” The younger paramedic told him. He turned to Tim who hopped in the ambulance with his sister and Bruce backed away slowly as the ambulance rushed down the street with sirens and light flashing.

He made it inside his car followed them.

—-

The first few hours were a blurry, she was rushed into surgery. Tim sat in the emergency room waiting area until Alfred arrived with the rest of the boys and they were taken upstairs to her room where Bruce was already waiting.

45 minutes later a nurse came in to tell them she was out of surgery. Shortly, afterwards the surgery told them the damages she suffered and she would be in a medical coma for a few days to help with the pain and swelling

And that brings us to the present.

Bruce re-entered the room and took his seat back.

“She’s gonna be okay,right B?”

He nodded. “We hope so. She’s a fighter like us.” He took her cold hand and offered a gentle squeeze. Dick,Jason and Alfred returned as well.

Alfred placed a hand on Bruce’s shoulder,”She is, and now we have to wait for her to fight her way back to us.”

[holmesianlove]

Chapter 6 - Snowflake

After a long interview with wife number two, a follow up interview with the best friend (who also happened to know spouse three - the husband) and a visit to a restaurant in the neighbouring town which had been the source of many of the victim’s dates and dealings, John and Sherlock found themselves walking back towards Baker Street. The tube had been delayed due to track works and there was not a cab in sight, so an evening stroll was in order.

“The husband seems genuinely devastated,” John said. “At least according to the friend’s account. But how does one sit comfortably with knowing two of the spouses and not… Do you really believe she didn’t know?”

Sherlock walked for a moment, quiet in thought. “It’s possible.”

“Possible but not likely,” John scoffed. “Do you think the victim seems the type to get married without an audience or without at least a photo?”

“Plenty of people in this world don’t feel the need to document their every meal and bowel movement, like some do,” Sherlock retorted.

“No. I agree but their wedding?” John argued. “Do you think they each married the same man, two of them also shared the same supposed best friend without ever knowing there was a connection to the very same man?”

Sherlock stopped walking to look at his friend. “I think there’s a great many things friends don’t really know about each other. Don’t you?” he asked. He gave John a probing look.

Something had been bothering John for days. It seemed apparent - when he was green - that the source of his frustration lay in the predicament he has been in thanks to his irresponsible flatmate and friend. However, as the colour faded from his skin, and as the case became more intriguing, it only seemed to irritate John further.

“What’s really bothering you, John?” Sherlock finally asked.

“What? Nothing. No.” John glanced up at Sherlock and then at his feet.

“You haven’t been yourself all week.”

“I was green remember, Sherlock?” he replied.

“You haven’t been green for days, John.” Sherlock levelled a look at him. “This case has really bothered you.”

“I just think marriage is more sacred. More special. It should be shared with the one person that means the entire world to you. It should be about committing to the one person who understands you and loves you despite all your flaws.” John swallowed hard.

“Did I miss a memo? Did the government send a decree? Is that not what it is now?” Sherlock asked.

“He married four people!” John cried out.

“But why does that make you angry?” Sherlock pressed.

“I don’t know. Some people are never lucky enough to have that. We all grow up instinctively expecting to find the one. Assuming that at some point the planets will align but it’s not actually true is it?” John said bitterly. “Sometimes that doesn’t happen and people end up alone all the time, yet we still behave as if we will eventually find our way there.” He sighed heavily. “I’m old now. And I’m certainly not getting any closer to meeting the kind of person who would…”

Sherlock held up a hand to stop him talking. He looked towards the sky. “It’s snowing.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” John huffed. “It’s too early for snow.”

“And yet,” Sherlock began.

He was going to argue with John about the weather but he didn’t need to. A large snowflake fell from the sky and landed on John’s cheek, right beside his nose. It was crisp and beautiful and sat there against the skin without the slightest sign of melting. Sherlock couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

John looked at Sherlock, his eyes widening at the realisation and then tried to looked down at it. His eyes began to cross as he looked down and Sherlock had to try hard not the laugh. It was quite simply adorable. He wished he could read John’s mind, wished he could understand what John was thinking, why he was so angry about this case.

John was so important to him, always had been, always would be but it pained him to see John grappling with the idea of being alone, as if he didn’t recognise that Sherlock was right in front of him.

Sherlock reached down and lay his palm on John’s cheek. John froze in surprise, his eyes searching Sherlock’s in confusion, completely unsure what was happening.

Sherlock looked at John’s face. At all of it. The beautiful shade of blue of his eyes, lost and searching for meaning in Sherlock’s behaviour, his blonde grey mix of hair scruffed up from all the activity of the day, with more snowflakes also balancing precariously at the front, threatening to add to the one perfect snowflake on his inner cheek. His jacket was all askew and it took a lot of self control from Sherlock to only make this one move. He knew he had one opportunity and then John was likely to bolt in fright. There was something about men together that panicked him.

“John—“ he said so very gently and he allowed himself the slightest lifting of a smile on his lips as John closed his eyes.

The sound of his name said so gently, clearly elicited a response from John - whether he would acknowledge it later or not. By the time he had opened his eyes again, Sherlock had returned his expression to a neutral, passive gaze. But now, he used his thumb to gently wipe back and forth over the delicate skin beside John’s nose, where the snowflake had landed, his thumb accepting the cold ice and collecting against his skin instead, removing it from John’s cheek.

John closed his eyes again and the most delicious little blush rose on his cheeks that delighted Sherlock.

“Mmmm?” He hummed in question so softly, Sherlock wasn’t sure he had made the noise at all.

“Come on, let’s go home,” Sherlock suggested quietly. He couldn’t help taking one last look at John’s flushed face before walking on ahead. The moment safely catalogued in his mind palace to enjoy later.

——

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[bloodycassian]

Ice Planet Freaks - Ice Planet Barbarians fic.

NSFW, MDNI -

Reader x OC Sa-Kuhi (alien man)

The floor is freezing, your head spinning with confusion and wooziness. There’s a foul smell in the air but your senses are returning to you slowly. Your mind as fogged as it is though, knows that something is wrong. And not just because there’s several enormous, blue-gray men standing across from you.

+

“He’s the leader, he’s the one insisting on us taking this parasite.” One of the girls growls. You can’t bother to remember any of their names, not when the reality of aliens had just been dropped on you. Worse, the fact that you’d been abducted by a completely different race of aliens than the ones who were now trying to help you.

You were still hoping to wake up from this nightmare.

The beast fell with a massive, not-earth shaking rumble and the others bring you with them, surrounding the thing while the alien leader and his woman go about pulling parts out of the beast. 

You feel your face pale when the return from the depths of the thing with a long, writhing rope-like thing. It would resemble a snake, if it weren’t for it’s lack of face and the thinness of it.

Words are exchanged, and the woman - Georgie, you remember just as the leader slices into her neck - is visibly uneasy, but when she looks to the leader, she seems put at ease.

The worm-thing slides into her neck, burrowing down and in until she collapses, the big leader catching her before she can fall.

Your legs quiver, vision going hazy for a moment, your mouth going dry and stomach churning - then you’re gone.

+

“Drink this.” A voice murmurs, but you can’t see who it is. It’s one of the women from the group, you can tell that much from her soft tone and the fact you can understand her.

Something presses to your lips, warm and utterly delicious. You drink the entirety of it in only a few short moments.

“More-” You pant, suddenly ravenous. Your head is much clearer than it was when you were freezing outside before, like a fog has been lifted and you’ve finally been granted access to your own mind again.

Something is said in a guttural, uneven accent and for a moment you almost think you can make out the words of it.

“She can’t-” the woman’s voice protests.

“Make her.” The voice- undoubtedly male and annoyed states.

Your eyes crack open, and there’s only the dim glow of torchlight keeping the woman’s face lit. She’s one of the others, the ones who’d broken you out of the tube you’d been stored in, but she’s different somehow.

“Welcome to your new home.” She says, with an uneasy, apologetic smile. 

Your eyes flash over the room, and land on the giant blue man leaning on the wall opposite you. 

Your mind spins, the whole room going with it, and you have to lean back down on the warm bed to regain your ability to think.

It hadn’t been a dream. It was real - is real and you’re currently on a world that isn’t earth but also inhabited by aliens… 

You want to scream but all if it seems just like your kind of luck.

“Can I at least know if there’s alcohol here?”

The girl laughs, and the man stiffens, pushing away from the wall.

“She’s asking about ahh… Kolcharr-” She makes a motion with her hands like drinking.

“If that’s what she wants I will gladly provide-”

“Who are you, anyway?” You spit the words like an accusation. He’s trying to be nice but something about his presence in your seemingly private quarters annoys you.

“Your Resonance, human.” 

“Tarvir, give us a few moments for me to explain.” The woman requests, holding out a hand to him as he approaches. 

He takes a long, slow look at you in the bed before nodding, and walking out the hide-door.

+

She’s human. I’ve waited a century for my mate to be a human woman with no horns or tail or-

No, I cannot be ungrateful when there’s other males who would kill for an opportunity to have a mate. Even if she is angry and withdrawn and unnerving.

“Tarvir!” Vektal calls, motioning me over to the wide landing where we share feasts when a hunter returns with a large prize. 

I fear what he may say to me, as strange as it is. On top of it, leaving my Resonance behind feels worse than any physical pain I’ve had in a long time. I touch the scarred flesh at my ribs from my encounter with the snowcats. 

Perhaps she is more dangerous than a snowcat, and my body is telling me to avoid her. Yet still, my resonance hums deep inside me. 

“The humans have rules. You must give her time to gain her strength back before-” Vektal’s voice is low, his eyes scanning the small crowd that is our tribe below. They’ve taken to showing the humans our cave, pride shining in every word.

“Her Kuhi resonates as well. She is mine, Vektal…” The words sound strange coming out, choked and tearful when I should be happy. Something deep inside me wells with despair and a fear that I do not understand though. 

Vektal puts a muscled hand on my shoulder and squeezes, a reassuring gesture. My tail can’t help but rise with renewed hope in his confidence. “The Humans are weak,I know your fears. But with the Kuhi now a  part of them, they will be alright. You will live a long, happy life with your mate, Tarvir.” He says, and i can see the knowledge of the words in his face. His mate, his Georgie has changed him, and I can only hope my own mate greets me with such enthusiasm as Georgie did for him.

His words feel reassuring, and I cannot explain the leaping in my chest when his eyes go over my shoulder. It’s fear and excitement together, a strange mix of emotion I’ve never felt aside from when my mate is near. 

And of course, when I turn around she is squinting with her strange flat face into the cave, down at the glowing pools and my people and hers below. I watch her and watch, my chest thrumming with anticipation of what her reaction will be.

Her eyes dart about, from the open roof of the cave that gives us light from our sky, to the carved walls and hide doors. Her eyes are strange, filled with white still even after accepting the Kuhi, but I can learn to love them. I can learn to love all of her, should she let me. Vektal is right, they need to be given the choice, but if her Kuhi does respond.. How is that anything but acceptance?

My chest thrumming, I begin walking towards my mate and the other human female. Her head snaps in my direction, as wild and untamed as a snowcat as she eyes me.

Then, she pushes off the half-wall overlooking my people below, and vomits on the floor.

I rush to her, already calling for our healer. Has she eaten something poisonous? Surely the Kuhi had healed her of any of her human sicknesses by now. It made no sense, she should be as strong and capable as any of us with the Kuhi in her.

“Tarvir?” She pants when I’m lifting her from the ground. She is light as a Kit in my arms, and her soft skin makes my cock harden. I put away the impulsive thought, she is cleaelry sick and needs tending to. 

“I am here my Resonance.” I reassure her, hope filling my chest. She’s able to speak, that is good. If only she would stop being so confused about things. I stop my ungrateful thinking. Vektal had said they are unknowledgeable and as helpless as even the youngest Kits, I must keep that in mind when caring for my mate.

It will be a challenge, especially for one as impatient as I can be. I will learn, and make myself a better mate for her, though.

+

His skin is supple, the corded muscle beneath the silken skin a delectable contrast to what one would expect. A rumbling in your ears nearly drowns out his cooing words as he chatters to you. He’s huge, and carries you like a child’s stuffed animal, but with utmost care. 

He’s tall and built like a house, not lithe like Vektal, a bit thicker in the chest and his face was less angular. He was what you’d think a lumberjack version of these guys probably was, a huntsman of sorts. 

Great, you’d scored the burly version of their people. You couldn’t have gotten the supermodel one, like Georgie had? 

“This is real.” You’d been repeating it, over and over again since Tarvir had guided you inside the room, one you now recognized was likely his. You were his mate, after all. That’s what one of the girls had told you, and though you wanted to deny it, there was no other reason you could think of to explain the humming in your chest. 

“It’s to make the best offspring, I’d guess.” She supplied with an uneasy smile.

So, you were expected to make an alien-baby with the guy who’d brought you here, who’d insisted upon being your mate… But you couldn’t exactly blame him. You doubted he had much of a say in the matter either. And looking at him, you were glad that he was at least in one piece, unlike the one that had stolen Liz away. 

And Tarvir hadn’t stolen you away, that was also a good point to be made towards his character.

Names and information were slowly coming back to you now, like your dream-state had still absorbed all the information around you while you were in the tube. 

“So what do you want from  me?” You ask the blue man, crossing your arms over your chest. Your head is still dizzy but at least while sitting you can catch your breath somewhat. 

His large brow scrunches together, his head cocking to one side like a dog. It’s charming on him, and it makes the corner of your lip curl in an almost smile. 

“Want?” He repeats, leaning in towards you. He’s close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him, and the furs suddenly feel much to warm on you, but it’s a comfort you’d been lacking for the time you’d been in the ship. You clutch them tighter around yourself. 

You try again, the language barrier clearly at play in this conversation. “Why.. why me?” The words are barely a whisper when you say them, and you can feel your cheeks heat with the way the question sounded so juvenile. 

His hands frame your face, forcing you to look into his magnificently blue eyes. Your heart thunders, the blood rushing in your ears almost too loud for you to hear him. Only, it’s not just blood, its the Cootie that’s also humming now. The throbbing of it reaching from your chest to your groin in a drumbeat of horniness.

His breath is sweet as he speaks, entrancing you further. “I want you. Only you. I want whatever you will allow me to have, whatever your own wants are will become mine, and we will live happily together. Whatever it is I want, it is only because you wish for it as well.”

Your heart soars, the rumbling in your chest spiking. Your breath is shallow and uneven as you fight the urge to grab on to his horns and pull him in for a demanding kiss. It’s just the cootie, that’s all that’s making you feel this way. 

But his words… You groan and lean back in the bed, freezing in place when he slides in beside you. It’s not like you can kick him out after he’d just said something sweeter than any human had ever said. 

“My Resonance, whatever your wants are will be mine, I promise. So if you wish to lay here, I will do the same. Until you ask me to leave, I will always be here.” He places a hand on your chest, and it’s a weight you can’t describe as anything but needed. 

His presence alone is already so comforting, is it because of this thing inside you now or because you truly are already falling for him? How couldn’t a girl, when their man spoke like a freaking shakespeare play? 

“This is real.” You breathe, and look over to him. 

He’s staring at you, eyes full of wonder and admiration. You turn on your side to face him, but his hand on your chest doesn’t move from it’s spot, as if waiting for you to do something with it. He’s waiting for your permission, you realize. 

You take his hand and bring it to your cheek, then kiss the soft skinned blue man for the first time. In his cave. On a different planet. After you’ve been freshly given a parasite. 

Yup, totally real and not a dream.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

My human’s skin is soft, and so very different from my own. It’s not a bad thing, but strangely intoxicating as I breathe in her scent and her lips press against my own. This is a strange sensation, but I’ve seen Vektal and Georgie do this, and know that it must be some kind of acceptance of our bond together.

My heart soars. She’s accepted me, at least on this physical level. If she is willing to press her lips to my own, it may be similar to humans as mating is to us. Will I need to show her what mating truly means to us? Surely the lip-pressing doesn’t create human kits on their world, does it? 

I am silently cursing Vektal for not giving us more information when my human rolls on top of me, straddling my waist. My cock is achingly hard and I feel shame for it, she may not be ready for such kinds of mating ritual-

She grinds her hips down onto me and I suck in a breath, my eyes going wide in surprise at the heat I can feel from her with even two layers between us. I growl and bear my teeth, my fingers digging in to her soft hips as she sways atop me. My Kuhi is humming violently, filling my space with the sounds of our shared pleasure, fueling my drive as I arch into her.

She wouldn’t be doing this if she did not accept our bond. I sit up and take her small face in my hand, bringing our lips together again. This is a strange talent that I must learn, and what a better time than now? It sends shocks of pleasure through my body at her taste, the way she touches me back is delicious and more precious than the twin-suns. 

“Need your cock-” She pants against my skin. She’s already left love-bites on my shoulder and I am ecstatic at this. Many of the mated pairs in the tribe share love-bite ink marks to signify their love for each other. I hope my human will want the same for us. 

I’m off the bed the instant she rolls off of me, stripping off her own clothes. Mine are much faster to remove, so I take the pleasure in removing her tunic ties as she undoes the laces at her borrowed trousers. They look ridiculous on her, tied in different places and cuffed at the bottoms to stay up, but they are mine and I am proud to share any part of myself with her. 

She moves to take my cock in her hand and as much as I’d love to feel her soft grip upon me, I catch her wrist in my hand and move her to lie back on my bed. I pull her hips forward, off the edge and wrap her legs around my shoulders. I’ve never had a lover of my own people, but I’ve heard enough. 

I lap at her slowly, and her taste is like seeing new colors, scenting new spices. I groan, my kuhi responding with desperation as I gorge myself on her wetness. My cock is rock solid and dripping with lubricant, but as much as I want to bury myself inside her, I resist. I’ve heard enough stories from the mated males about this that I know they like it slow at first, a building thing. 

But my human seems to not want this. She grips my horns and pulls me close, like she wants me elsewhere, and I worry for a moment that I’m hurting her. I relent my lapping at her entrance, and look up at her. Her maine is tangled and I make a note to help her wash it later, but the delicious flush of her cheeks has me dripping to the floor of the cave. 

She pulls me, and I place my lips every inch of the way up her body, but she stops me, moaning in a particular spot. She pushes me back down, and I cock my head to the side. Does she want me or not? 

She removes a hand from one of my horns and reaches for her sex. I nearly protest her touching herself when I am right here, but she rubs a small circle over the very top of her opening, and I see it then. Ahh- This is what Vektal had mentioned, the nipple. 

I nudge her fingers out of the way and lap at it slowly. It is a strange bud, less similar to how I imagined nipples and feeling much more like sucking the meat from the river-creatures that live in the streams in the summer time. I dare not bite my Resonance, though. I know this is working for my mate, because she writhes below me, her hips arching off my bed and her cries growing louder as I increase the speed of my tongue. 

Her hands are gripping my horns, holding me in place with her desperate pleading. I do not relent my tongue upon her, even when she’s panting “Please, please–” because she hasn’t pushed me away. I do not know if this part is the human custom, but she isn’t pushing away, so I continue. 

Her slickness is better than any catch, even the rarest. She’s warm and balanced and I can’t imagine how I’ve lived before having this. She’s saying something about moving or going somewhere when her thighs suddenly crash against my head, deafening me. I keep my mouth open as she rocks and shudders upon my tongue. I use a hand to ease the aching in my cock, relieving some of the pressure she’s caused me to build. 

I cannot tell if she’s like the other humans, or if this mating is strange for them. After her thighs ease from my head I go to lick her more, but she pushes me away with a strange, small foot. She waves me toward her, wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling me down atop her.

Her hand goes to grip my cock once I am holding myself above her, and I cannot deny my own need for any longer.

The moment her small hand wraps around me, my mind goes blank aside from the pleasure of it.

+

He’s huge. Okay, he’s massive, thick and veiny and with the built in ridges it has you seeing stars before he’s even entered you. 

But he’d just made you come so hard that you need more, and your clit is much too overstimulated. You guide the crown of him to your entrance, and he sucks in a sharp breath. Yeah, you doubt he’ll last long, which is a good thing considering his size. He’s thick and muscled and holy shit, the ridges feel amazing. 

The first inch of him is a stretch already, and he pulls out to spread your wetness and his own along his shaft. His re entry is smoother, drawing moans from both of you. He’s shuddering within the first few minutes, and with those kinds of muscles you know its not because he’s getting tired. 

You adjust your hips, angling upwards more and your mind goes blank. He’s brushing your g-spot already, and he’s only making shallow thrusts. Your legs squeeze him, pulling him in harder and your eyes roll back. God, he’s perfect for you- your nails bite into his soft skin and you think he likes it, because he leans down and places a bite mark on your shoulder, the elongated canine teeth leaving gentle pock marks where they intended your skin. He looks there proudly, and slams into you. The slapping sound of his thighs meeting yours echoes through his home, and your moans join it.

You’re wet, dribbling wet and it’s about halfway through fucking that you notice his hands aren’t what keeps brushing over your clit, but a second, smaller and softer dick that has been nudging you the whole time. Your legs quiver at the idea of it alone, all the things that it could do-

He stiffens when your insides clench around him, his thrusting faltering for a moment. Then, he’s gripping your hips and lifting you, pulling you forward with every one of his thrusts into you. His pace is demanding and with the g-spot stimulation and his second dick… You’re a mess. You're spilling profanities and cursing him to the worst places imaginable. Thankfully, he doesn’t understand what half the shit you’re saying means. Doubly thankful, he doesn’t stop his relentless assault on that tender spot inside of you. 

The ridges on his dick are fucking incredible as he pulls out and slams back in, and it heightens the experience even more. There’s no chance you’re not going to cum from this. It’s hard to hold back, and with the new positioning you’re nearly drooling with the immense pleasure of it all. The second he palms your breasts, your eyes squeeze shut and you’re trying to hold back your climax, but it washes over you anyway. you’re squirming, cumming on him with an intense sense of need and belonging. You’re sent through the peaks of it relentlessly, his second dick rubbing away at your clit as you ride through it. It’s intense and demanding and possibly the most mind-shattering fuck you’ve ever had. Even without the whole giant-blue-alien-mate thing.

He doesn’t stop thrusting, and as you pant and groan he’s bringing you into another orgasm with the way his other member rubs against you. His strokes are becoming frantic, feral and completely brutal as he fucks deep inside you. Your pussy clenches, milking him and he snarls something in his language that you don’t yet know. He stiffens, providing only shallow thrusts that have you seeing stars. Your body is jelly as he pumps into you, then he’s tightening his hold, his blunt nails digging into your skin. His eyes flare, and you can tell he’s wishing he had the restraint to keep fucking you.

He’s groaning, a guttural feral sound that is like a sweet song in your ears. He spills inside you, pulsing and twitching and god he’s gorgeous and so sweet as he fills you. He licks at your neck and flicks his bumpy tongue over your nipples, his hands going to cradle you in his arms. 

His tail is wrapped around your ankle like some kind of anchor point as you lose yourself in the pleasure of it all. 

You’re brushing his hair back and nuzzling into his neck the moment he lies down beside you, pulling you into his embrace. Like you’ve been lovers for your entire lives. 

His plan is likely to be just that.

[p1nkshield]

Welcome esteemed guests to chapter four of my still unnamed fanfic! Please place your suggestions on a name in the comments if you feel so inclined. :)

Bruce massaged the bridge of his nose as he turned on the coms, hopefully one of his family members would have one in right now.

“Team, Constantine will be here in five to visit our guest. Either be in gear and in the bat cave or make yourselves scarce.”

“Understood Father.”

“Why is Constantine coming here?”

“You got it, b!”

Bruce did his best to answer Tim’s question as he surveyed the confiscated items from the self proclaimed guys in white, eyeing the vials of bright green liquid he had yet to finish analyzing.

“The infinite realms sounded familiar to me so I posed some inquiries about it to Constantine. This apparently set off the alarms for him as I attempted to elaborate. Now he’s on his way.”

Bruce made no efforts to hide his exasperation as he headed towards the zeta tube entrance of the bat cave.

Jason sat in a large ornate chair vigilantly as the boy he was tasked to watch slept in the plush guest bed. He looked no older then seven. Who could hurt such a small kid? The thought made Jason sick.

Dick entered the room after knocking gently. “Hey little wing, did you hear Bruce earlier? Constantine is really gunning it over here. We need to either get lost or put on our dominos at least.”

Jason scoffed at the cutesy nickname and made a move to get up until Danny stirred in his sleep. Jason stopped in his tracks.

“Can’t” Jason uttered

“What?” Dick said inquisitively

“Can’t leave him.”

Jason really couldn’t. It was like he was glued to the chair at the bedside of this kid.

Dick looked with concern at his younger brother. “I see… how about this! I will go get your gear and keep an eye on him while you change in the en-suite. That way you aren’t far!”

Jason squinted his eyes at the proposition.

“Jason, I promise Danny is safe here. You don’t have to worry.”

It ended up working out perfectly.

“Hey Disco boy”

“hm?”

“I don’t know what came over me, thanks for not giving me a hard time.”

“Aww you’re welcome mama bird!”

Jason met this teasing with a myriad of expletives that were whisper-yelled at his brother.

“Try not to be a helicopter parent!” Dick laughed as he retreated from the room.

Danny stirred once again as his eyes flitted open. He sat up groggily and surveyed his surroundings. Jason could tell panic was seeping into his veins as he saw his unfamiliar environment.

“Hey, it’s okay”

Danny’s head snapped towards the source of the voice.

“You’re safe” Jason continued “ someone named CW sent you here to heal”

Jason’s soothings seemed to reach him as he relaxed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Where is he?!? Bats,this could be the catalyst of an inter dimensional war! A war against a people who’s base power set is comparable to Martian Manhunter do you understand?”

“Constantine”

“This literal child usurped Pariah Dark Batman.”

Batman blinked as that name held no weight for him.

“Pariah Dark was a ruler so cruel and powerful that he was banished by his own subjects. The only way for power to change hands is via single combat but no one could do it.”

“Constantine?”

“Until the new king broke him out of his sarcophagus and promptly handed his ass to him! Rumors are that he’s not even full grown yet!”

“Constantine!”

The magic user paused, snapped out of his hasty exposition.

“The boy is still resting and hasn’t woken up yet. In the letter we received we were told that this is the safest place for him to recover. I’m sure that whoever is in charge is doing everything they can to keep the child safe.”

Just as Batman was about to continue to explain how he managed to get in this situation Jason exited the elevator to the bat cave.

“Yes I promise he’s nice. No, he dresses like a bat to scare bad guys.”

Danny who was holding tightly to Jason’s continued to rattle out questions.

“Who is that?” Danny asked as he pointed towards Constantine who looked thoroughly confused.

“This tiny tyke is the Ghost King? Oh come on you’re pulling my leg or something spooks.”

Constantine then addressed the boy

“You defeated Pariah Dark single handedly?”

Danny replied to his questioning with a crinkled look of confusion.

“… Ghost King? …Pariah Dark?”

Realization dawned on Constantine.

“Was he reduced to his core?”

Jason replied with another question.

“Is that why he looked like a fancy rock?”

A beat of silence filled the room.

“I can’t help you with this. Let me know when he remembers enough for me to grovel for the sake of this dimension.”

Constantine made his way towards the zeta tube and swiftly left.

Danny blinked a few times, processing the strange man and his strange questions before letting go of Jason’s hand.

“Where are you headed kid?”

“I’m thirsty.”

“There’s not much in terms of refreshments down here how about we- hey woah don’t drink that!”

It was far too late Danny had phased his hand through the container holding several large ampules of a glowing green liquid. He snapped off the top at the scored break point and began to drink it.

“Danny! Danny spit that out right now!” Jason hurriedly approached.

“Why? It’s good! See?”

Before Jason could protest Danny offered some of his drink to Jason.

Despite his best efforts he smelled some of the unidentified liquid. It smelled … really good. Before he himself or Bruce could stop him, he took a small sip. It was sweet, citrusy and effervescent. He took another sip before finishing the whole thing. It lessened a headache he forgot he had.

“Heeeey! That was mine!”

Jason regarded the boy who looked at him with intense betrayal.

He reached into the containment unit and uncorked another ampule with some effort and handed it to him absently, still confused as to what just happened.

This is the second time this week Bruce has been genuinely shocked by something. He did not like this feeling at all. He looked forlornly at his samples that had just been raided like a fridge. He let out a long sigh.

@boo-ghosties @skulld3mort-1fan @addie-lover-of-stories @isaactheautobot @krzys2000 @ectoradiation @worthlesswall @mewzaque @mnemovoid @phantom-dc @justwannabecat @kitty-page @cutelittlebeanie @meira-3919 @amyheart19 @scarlette-foxx @thegatorsgoose @farmercale

[weebsinstash]

Ok so tmi (on the tmi blog lol) but the first day of my Cycle I had a dream that I had just given birth and I was holding my baby and I was goddamn euphoric even though the logical part of me was like “???? I am 22 and broke i CANNOT have a baby rn” and I woke up crying and called my friends like I WANNA HAVE A BAAAAAABYYYYY I WANT A BAAAAAAABYYYYYYYY so basically. Imagine. Miguel catches you in a moment of weakness. And he NEVER. FUCKING. FORGETS IT.

Oh wow girlie those period hormones grabbed you by the uterus and absolutely REFUSED to let go

NO BUT FOR REAL don't look at me but I've been thinking of a concerning number of ideas where it's like, "Reader suddenly realizes they may want a baby and is actually putting serious thought into it and Miguel finds out (bet your ass Peter B tells him, i can see him as a "well intentioned" platonic guardian/mentor figure who sells you out to Miguel the second he thinks you're doing something risky or he thinks it's for your own good) and Miguel starts making all these plans and preparations behind your back to have a baby with you" and obviously I like the extra juicy option of "he found out you got extremely depressed and tied your tubes or something because you either see no point in you having a kid/think it's too late, OR, Miguel was the only person you were looking at as a potential father and you either decide it wouldn't work out or he does something to hurt you and you lose trust in him" so like, the double whammy combo of him being hit with the news you basically walled off your fertility that he's kinda fantasizing about AND you blame him for it

You see him chokeslam Miles on the train and having all these serious anger and stress issues and you're like "hmmmm don't like that" and basically make the tubal ligation appointment that week (but, you know, he'll either interfere before you can actually get it or even reverse it later on)

Like. Ugh I'm not sure if I should go super into detail bc I feel like I want to put this scene in the YouTwo fic or in a different idea i have thats more centered around motherhood, but, picture he catches you in his monitor room one day after you've lost your home dimension, you're having a little more than just a small identity crisis, and he catches you having Lyla show you the model for your life, or what the algorithm had predicted your life was supposed to be like before your universe just magically poofed away. You're just staring at these holograms with tears running down your face and he occasionally catches you starting to reach out like you want to touch what you see. He comes to stop you because he already knows all too well where this could lead, you can't become tempted to break canon and go somewhere else, but you beg him to let you watch just a little longer

"I was supposed to get MARRIED! I was supposed to have a BABY! I was supposed to have a family!! It's not fair!!"

And he's in total agreement with you because, who even fucking knows why your universe suddenly destabilized and vanished. He sees you as this person who has so much promise and potential who had their destiny and future literally snatched away from them and now you're lost and confused on what you're supposed to do, like really he totally understands why you feel so aimless. But watching these holograms is like torturing yourself, and he goes to stop you when you just keep crying because this is basically sending you into a critical mental health episode

"Someone was supposed to fall in love with me... we were supposed to have a baby... would I have been a good mom? Would I have had a boy or a girl? Cant you at least let me find out what my daughter's name would have been?"

And it's like NOOOO you can't hit him with the daughter card, don't you see what you've DONE!!! Gets him right in the heart. Now he's got this massive soft spot for you, bigger than it already was anyways, and he can tell over time you're just really starting to, grieve the future you were supposed to have, falling into a depression. Peter B is hanging around with Mayday like he usually does as both men can tell you're really staring at his baby today and he offers to teach you how to hold her. you're standing there misty eyed twirling one of her little curls around your finger as her dad starts volunteering information to you, "you know she's about XYZ months old now, they aren't really talking yet at this age but they're really curious about their surroundings and--"

Miguel watches as you start talking about children and suddenly get this really really tortured expression and just say "it's not meant to happen" and or some combination of "it's too late for me" and gives him his baby back a little too quickly in typical "I am clearly leaving the room to go cry" fashion. Meanwhile Peter B is like 38 wondering why you think you're out of time or it's not supposed to happen

Miguel's working one day and Peter is trying to shove his phone in his face, "you know I think this is one of the BEST photos of Mayday I've ever taken, she's looking so cute here, you just GOTTA see it" and Pete just won't let up and Miguel finally looks just to humor him because the man is being unusually annoying and, it's a photo of Mayday, duh, but being held by you, and you're clearly looking down at her with watering eyes and the smallest little smile that says "I'll die for you" and Peter is just all 😏 as Miguel is 'suddenly' interested in the photo. "That's a really good photo of MAYDAY, right? 😏 I figured you would like it, that photo of MAYDAY 😏" and Miguel is just grumbling and grouchy bc he sees what this guy is tryna do, but he's still like ".... send it to me later, I'm trying to work right now"

It's even worse if you're a member of his strike force because you're constantly around him, Peter B, and Jess. Miguel just, idly wondering where you are and deciding to walk around a little bit and eventually finds that you're having some sort of conversation with Peter B and Jess and he can tell you look really weepy as the other woman invites you to feel her baby kicking, like, you could not more obviously be developing baby fever, and you ARE around that age, and ESPECIALLY if you live in Nueva York because it's like, YEAH you're still a Spider and YEAH you help the Society with stuff but. Your home universe is gone, your canon is gone, you're kind of. Free as a bird really? But you're also scared because, if someone was destined to love you, does that mean it technically isn't meant to be to fall for anyone else? You can't exactly hook up with people at the Spider Society because of canon or them already having relationships, and you don't exactly have identifying documents if you wanted to try and adopt

I think it'd really reach a stressful breaking point if you and the strike force go to another universe to fight an anomaly and Miguel catches you staring out into the crowd of people you just saved and he sees what youre looking at instantly and his heart sinks. Another you, another normal you, never bitten by a Spider, is standing there with her husband and her little sputtering baby, and he has to all but drag you away as you cry "it's not fair, it's not fair, why does SHE get a normal life!!"

Sidebar for a moment, I think that's probably also one thing that would be so INFURIATING about the doppelganger stealing your life story because THEY have a home universe and YOU don't. They take your life, they take literally everything you have left, your friends, your sense of community, your literal purpose. I've already decided on YTs motivations but could you imagine you finding out YouTwo actually has a decent life and maybe even a husband and kid of their own and you're just furious because they're basically abandoning their duties back home not only as a Spider but as a parent/spouse to steal what YOU have? You can't kill them because it would break their canon and kill like countless people but Miguel and the others would def let you beat the shit out of your evil double and get some of your anger out. Like. Jesus could you imagine Miguel kicks you out thinking you're the fake and after you're gone, YouTwo breaks canon and that's what exposes them, or theyre exposed when they eventually take a trip back home and get caught. The Society's regret, the guilt, the anger, just marinate me with the drama

But anyways back to Being Sad and Babycrazy, you go missing one day and Miguel has to decide what to do when he finally tracks your bracelet and you're back in THAT dimension again. He has to physically track you down using your bracelet's signal because you refuse to answer his messages and you're, in the home of the other you while she takes a brief nap, in the nursery, holding her baby. Miguel quietly climbs through the window and you're in a rocking chair and you've got her hugged to your chest and your eyes are closed and you sense him and, obviously cry because you know you have to leave. Unlike with the holograms he doesn't give you any leeway on this, putting his foot down that this has to end here, this cant go on, this is already so dangerous. And, you're good for him and understand, leaving the baby back in its crib as you and Miguel warp away. You're heartbroken but ultimately understanding when he has to disable your watch's ability to visit that specific dimension again, and you're obviously extremely depressed for a while, having multiple Spiders coming to check in on you as word spreads around that you aren't doing well

I can just see Reader becoming kind of desperate because the only options for a baby you really have left is to either 1. get a serious relationship, which you're scared of because you have to trust that person and who can you even pick, you're nervous about breaking canon or something, or 2. Get some random person to impregnate you so you can run off with the baby

Miguel gets a call from Peter B that you went to a bar and you're EXTREMELY wasted as you try to pick someone, ANYONE up and like, you have admirers for sure but there's enough decent people around to keep the creeps in line, clearly you are in a vulnerable state of mind right now, and Miguel gets to tote your drunken ass back home as you drunkenly word vomit all your feelings to him because, unfortunately for you, he has your trust, and you need comfort right now, and you even ask him about what being a parent was like for him. You encouragingly tell him he shouldn't give up if he still wants kids, you trying to be genuinely nice and not trying to imply anything, blubbering about how he deserves to still be happy and he's still got time, and here's Miguel who's practically tracking your cycles at this point, TOTALLY not going to use anything you say to him while you're piss-drunk against you

Especially if you add ABO into the mix and you have a Miguel who's either Alpha/Omega and is already babycrazy af and he sees you literally fucking YEARNING for it, like. You've got a 6'9" Alpha basically looking at you, his poor lil Omega crush, with the big yandere goo goo eyes and how you need all this love and support and stability and how you're in need of a proper husband and of course he's all too willing to volunteer himself for the job. Even if he's too awkward to come right out to you and say it, he'll be thinking in his head and planning behind your back ways to take care of you, keep you away from any drugs/alcohol (no more smoking weed with metro boomin Spiderman, you've gotta detox your body to have a baby! Also, different concept but, Miguel basically keeping you in a bubble to control all your meals and recreational activities and all of that so he can make sure you're perfectly healthy for a baby)

Don't let this man catch you slipping up! Throw you to the Spider Society and you'll come back pregnant 😭 he sees you so depressed and wanting a baby and it's like well, if your life needs new meaning, he can help literally make one for you 😏 he's been feeling protective and nurturing of you anyways, so, it's an extra benefit for him to think of getting to have both you AND a little baby of your very own ❤️

[ask-the-royal-absol]

King Flint: Stan, could you get a few rock types to help shift the walls around to let her into Elantra’s room? Could you also get a couple of attendants to help find rooms for the rest of these fine folks?

*The hitmonlee walked towards one of the side doors, taking the map tube that was carefully placed down with him. Soon afterwards, five rock types (a graveler, a sudowoodo, a nosepass, a solrock and a boldore) came in, asking the King how he would like the stone walls of the castle to be moved. He directed them with a point to the right wall close to the two thrones that stood at the back of the room and the five of them placed hand, or hand equivalents, on the rocky ground down below them. A bright brown glow shone from their eyes as the ground started to quake, the solid stone wall glowing with this same colour.

A few seconds later, an opening slowly began to form, growing larger and larger with each passing moment. The door that once stood there shattered from the movement, splinters of wood breaking off in all directions. Crumbling noises echoed around the room. Sweat dripped from the rock types and a few small grunts could be heard from them. The strain was immense. A structure shift that large was a lot for five Pokémon to move. The castle wall's opening just kept expanding upwards and outwards, the edges of it quite neatly formed with barely a crack to be seen.

An enormous archway took shape, large enough for Pikavee to comfortably move through. The rock types took a moment to catch their breaths. They were rarely asked to move castle walls by the king. It certainly took a lot out of them. With a wipe of their brows, they looked towards the towering Pokémon eagerly awaiting their next instructions.*

King Flint: These fine Pokémon will show you the way to Elantra's room. It may not fit you the best; she was never as big as you. But, it should at least be a bit more comfortable than having to sleep on the floor. Sorry we don't have anything larger for you.

*King Flint turned to the rest of the group.*

King Flint: We should have some attendants come for you lot soon enough.

*An echo of footprints sounded behind the kindly king, followed by Stan, a Lycanroc, a Mienshao and a centiskorch. Each bowed before their king. Flint gestured for Stan's attention and whispered something into his ear whilst looking towards Mouse and Gizmo. With a small nod, Stan gave a small and subtle look towards the other attendants in the room to which they all nodded in understanding.*

King Flint: These four here shall take you all to some of the spare rooms we have. If you need anything at all, please feel free to ask one of those four. They'll be located near your rooms. They're all incredibly good at their jobs so please don't hesitate to ask. We will be having a breakfast feast in the morning. I'll have some of the attendants let you know when that is.

King Flint: I'd suggest for the dark and poison types here you stick within the castle walls for now until we can figure out some sort of plan for how to allow you to move around the city without arousing too much suspicion. I know Destino said they had some sort of trick or something but I don't know if any of you can do the same thing. If you need Destino, they'll be situated on the floor above you down the corridor. If you need me for something, though I highly doubt you would, I'll be located on the same floor as Destino. My room door is painted orange and is the only one like it on that floor so it should be easy to find. Hope you all have a good night! Again, any assistance needed, ask the attendants. It's guaranteed one of them will be around.

*King Flint waited patiently for everyone to head out of the large room they were situated in. Only him and Hope remained.

Hope gave a small stretch and a slight yawn before starting to walk away from her father. It had been an incredibly long day and she was exhausted. She was usually incredibly tired after her busy days but this felt even more tiresome.*

[delcakoo]

i choose you! ˚ᘒ ˖˚𓈒 n.rk

SUMMARY ! at last, your journey begins on route 1 with your first pokemon by your side.. and your pesky neighbor who somehow angers a flock of pidgeys enough to chase the both of you back to where you started. but don’t worry, riki will be there to protect you.. probably!

PAIRING ! pokemontrainer!niki x gn!reader

WC ! 3.7k

GENRE ! pokemon au (dont need to know that much to understand) frenemies to lovers, fluff <3

WARNINGS ! riki’s nickname for you is dummy, mentions of scraped knews/elbows, bandaged wounds, blood, being attacked by birds

a/n: this has been in my drafts since january cuz i only wrote it for the pokemon nostalgia and im kinda iffy abt it.. i tried to clean it up tho so hope u all enjoy!

ding dong! ding dong! dingdongdingdongdingdongdingdo—

you practically yank your front door off the wall in vexation, the ringing in your ears dissipating the moment your annoying neighbour comes into view. he has a cheeky grin plastered across his pale face as his finger drops from your doorbell, shoving into his short’s pockets mischievously.

he tilts his head, and his black wavy hair bounces along animatedly. “ready to go, dummy?”

you’ve had the misfortune (or fortune) of being glued to nishimura riki’s side since birth.

you were the same age, yet it felt more like you were babysitting than hanging out with a friend during most of the time spent with him. your neighbor was the definition of a dork; an impulsive idiot with no sense of limits or rules that you’d constantly have to take control of before he did something stupid (though, there was no harm in letting it happen and relishing in the entertainment every so often). in fact, you could dare him to lick the sidewalk in exchange for a single oran berry, and he’d do it without hesitation.

reckless or not, you couldn’t deny your vast soft spot for the raven haired boy, considering he’s grown up with you and all.

but today, riki’s grin and visible excitement shockingly held a valid reason.

“hell yeah,” you reply with a smirk, gripping your backpack tighter once you descend down the front porch.

riki’s arm finds its way around your shoulder, smile growing as he stares down at you. “can you believe it, y/n? today’s really the day.”

you chuckle and nod. “yup, all those years at the academy will finally pay off.”

at least, it would for you; it was a miracle riki even graduated, noting that he still didn’t even know what would beat a dark type pokemon if one were to jump in front of him now.

“wonder what type of pokemon our starters will be,” he ponders. “i hope mine’s a dragon!”

“eh.. i think a bug type suits you better.”

in reply, he violently pinches your arm. “ay, ‘bet you’ll get a poison type with that attitude.”

while the bantering continues, the sliding door to your town’s lab eventually parts for the both of you. the high ceiling building was filled with all sorts of strange machines and metal tubes, and it was rather quiet besides the occasional sounds of pokemon chirping and playing in the distance. you vageuly remember being here once before on a field trip, as well as the memory of riki almost releasing a wild pokemon from it’s enclosure and getting your whole academy banned.

ah, good times.

as you trail inside, you feel something enclosed around your hand and carefully lace through your fingers. you glance down to investigate, brows furrowing at the sight of riki’s hand clasping yours tightly.

“..what are you doing?” you mutter with warm cheeks.

he shrugs. “this is a big moment, so i felt like holding your hand.” riki didn’t seem phased nor flustered at all, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. it wasn’t too surprising for him to initiate physical touch, yet for whatever reason something as simple as hand holding was making a strange feeling erupt in your stomach.

though before you could question him further, a feeble voice echoed blaringly through the laboratory. “my my, what do we have here?”

and in walks who you remember as professor bonsai, icy white lab coat nearly touching the ground as her frail fingers reach up to adjust her green glasses. you recall the old woman visiting the academy once or twice, and it was easy to tell she knew a whole lot more about pokemon than any of your teachers or trainers just by how she spoke of them.

to his disappointment, you quickly rip your hand from your neighbour’s, bowing politely. “professor bonsai, it’s an honor!” you exclaim with enthusiasm. riki quickly bows too, following you closely.

the woman’s lips raise, scanning you up and down. “ah, i remember you. y/n, correct?” you quickly nod, smiling. when the professor looks over to riki, her welcoming expression drops, wrinkles deepening unpleasantly. “and you..”

riki’s eyes widened, scratching his neck nervously. he seems to have made a bad first impression with the woman in the past, and you couldn’t say you were surprised in the slightest. “uh, hi again.. professor.”

“lord arceus.. ” she mumbles disapprovingly before clearing her throat. “alright then, both of you this way.”

with that, the old lady turns, walking away and leaving you and riki to exchange worried glances.

“she definitely hates me,” riki whispers as you follow her through the lab.

you raise a judging brow, pinching his side. “probably for good reason. i bet you played some stupid prank on her at the academy or something.”

comically, his eyes widen. “how’d you know?”

as you open your mouth to reply with ‘because you’re riki’, the professor stops, gesturing to a small table under a bright light behind her.

“here we are, i assume you’ve already had the lecture of what it means to have your first pokemon?”

you nod, while riki watches dumbly. “yes professor.”

“then, you may pick one,” she states.

instantly, you freeze up.

there lay three shining red pokeballs, each in their own little capsules on display to the two of you.

that’s when it hit you that this was fully happening. the moment you’ve been waiting for since your first day at the academy; the day you’d get your first pokemon — your partner for life.

you glance over at riki.

when it came to your childhood friend, it felt like you already had a partner for life, as cheesy as it sounded.

you shake your head, riki would tease the hell out of me if i said that out loud.

while you were in deep thought, riki had already walked closer to the three mystery pokeballs, ever so carefully grabbing the middle one.

he glances over to the professor, who’s studying his actions sternly. “do i just- can i..?”

“go ahead,” she deadpans.

you watch in awe as riki throws the pokeball in front of him, red light flowing out of it before a small, turtle like creature with a single sapling coming out of its head plops onto the ground. it was mostly a pale green with a hint of yellow on it’s chin and feet, and a small brown shell adorned it’s smooth back.

“oh my god, it’s so cute,” you squeak in awe, rushing over to pet the pokemon’s shell. riki grins, quickly kneeling next to you to do the same. you fail to notice how every so often, his gaze bounces over to thoroughly take in your beaming expression rather than the little creature before him.

“that one is turtwig,” professor bonsai informs. “he’s a grass type, and the shell on his back is made from soil, which hardens when he drinks water.”

when riki scratches under turtwig’s neck, the creature chirps in delight, leaning into his touch more than yours. “guess i’ll have to buy lots of water,” riki declares, “i’ll choose him.”

without another moment of hesitation, he picks up the small pokemon, holding it in his arms happily. turtwig wiggles around, licking riki’s fingers and making the boy giggle cutely.

you gaze at them in desire, impatience rushing through you. riki observes as you pace over to the remaining two pokeballs, hesitantly taking the left one. the ball feels stable in your grasp, so shiny that you could make out your reflection reflecting onto the red lid. “pick a good one, dummy,” he cheers you on cheekily.

you roll your eyes in fake annoyance, still smirking as you gently throw the ball before you. rather unceremoniously, a small blue penguin flops out of the ball, face planting right onto the hard floor with an ugly chirp.

professor bonsai sighs, and riki bursts into a mean cackle. meanwhile you gasp, rushing over to help the pokemon up and into your embrace. “poor thing, are you okay? i’m sorry, i must’ve thrown it too hard.”

in response, the penguin puffs out its chest stubbornly, yet its expression screams that it’s embarrassed. the creature’s tiny yellow beak was slightly in a pout, and it took everything in you to not boop it fondly.

professor bonsai rubs her forehead. “that’s piplup, her species is rather clumsy yet very prideful. she has a hard time accepting food from humans and bonding with trainers that try to get close to her — and as you can see, she puffs out her chest whenever she falls down, which is quite often due to her poor walking abilities.”

contrary to the woman’s words, piplup seemed to enjoy your presence, peering up at you in satisfaction as you rubbed her tummy. however, when riki walks over to pet her as well, there was nothing to prepare him for when she decides to rudely peck his hand.

riki jumps back, nearly dropping turtwig. “ow!” he whines, and you swear you see the professor snicker proudly in the background.

“that’s what you get for laughing at her,” you declare, sticking your tongue out teasingly. piplup, who was now completely relaxed in your hold, sticks her small tongue out as well, making you burst into laughter. “if it’s okay, i’ll gladly take her, professor.”

she nods, nudging her glasses up with the tip of her finger. “very well then. do you both know where to go from here?”

“yeah,” “no,” you and riki blurt in sync.

unsurprised, you roll your eyes. “don’t worry, i have him under control.” with piplup sitting carefully on your shoulder, you grab riki’s forearm, quickly leading him out. “thank you professor, we’ll be sure to repay you!”

———

“i wanna be the very best, that no one ever was! dun dun du-dun, to catch them is my real test, to train th—ow!” riki pauses his serenading, cradling the arm that you’d pinched rudely.

“shut up, i’m trying to read this useless piece of shit,” you bark. “seriously who drew this thing? even you could make a better map than this!”

it’s quiet for a moment as the four of you continue wandering to who knows where, piplup fast asleep on your shoulder while riki and turtwig searched around cluelessly. there were freakishly large trees surrounding every mile of land, and lots of patches with wild grass that you both made sure to steer clear of; the last thing you needed was to fight wild pokemon before you could even buy pokeballs at the next town.

originally, you suspected that going from the lab to route one would be a piece of cake, but clearly not everything could go perfect in a day. unless you were reading it wrong (which you probably were), your map sent you in repetitive circles — and of course, the boy next to you didn’t provide much support.

abruptly, turtwig lets out a small chirp of his name minutes later, gesturing backwards with a prompt nod. riki follows his pokemon’s guide, eyes widening a fraction. “hey dummy, we’re looking for route one.. right?” he suddenly inquires, tapping your shoulder.

you roll your eyes, “yes, i told you that like an hour ago—“ you finally look up from your map and follow the boy’s gaze, jaw hanging off your face when you see a giant, obnoxious white sign reading ‘route 1’ on it.

you feel your eye twitch in annoyance. you were supposed to be on map duty while he kept an eye out for the destinations you read off. “you’ve got to be kidding me! riki, you were supposed to be looking for that humongous thing right in the middle of the forest for the past hour, are you blind?”

“i don’t know, turtwig didn’t see it either! i was just.. excited,” he defends.

how on earth am i supposed to survive with this idiot? you huff, folding up the map and throwing it into your backpack’s side pocket. next to you, riki has a small, discouraged pout on his lips, walking with his head slightly down.

his posture makes your eyes soften, guilt rushing through you as you reach up to pat his shoulder gently. “it’s okay, ki. sorry for yelling,” you apologise quietly.

riki kicks a rock into the air out of impulse, and you watch as it rockets all the way into a near patch of grass with no mercy. “nah, i deserved it anyway.”

then, an angry squak rips from the grass in front of you, right where riki had booted that stone.

you grip his shoulder in concentration, patting piplup awake with your other hand. “riki..”

“no y/n, seriously,” he insists, “i really do need to start focusing. we’ve only just left and..”

while he blabbers, you’re busy witnessing a raging flock of pidgeys fly up from the tall grass, furiously glaring down at the two of you.

“riki!” you holler, yanking him by his backpack. piplup is chirping frantically, holding on tightly as you grab riki’s hand and pull him behind while you sprint for your life.

the wavy haired boy has barely processed anything; nearly tripping on his own sneakers. when he looks back and realises the situation, riki’s eyes double in size comically. one pidgey hurls a small whirlwind right at him, and he narrowly dodges out of the way milliseconds prior with the help of turtwig’s warning chirp. “holy shit! what the hell do those ugly pigeons want!?”

“that rock you kicked must’ve hit one of them!” you scream your reply, anxiously feeling the birds getting closer. they were all scowling aggressively, clearly not up to discuss or show mercy.

just as you prepare to speed up even more, you feel the warmth of your neighbour’s hand get pulled away as a strong, angry gust yanks you away and down to the ground, piplup rolling off your back in the process and leaving riki screeching to a halt. your elbows and knees burn from scraping against the dirt, and the spinning in your head emits a groan from your lips.

nonetheless, you turn yourself onto your back in determination, sitting up on your palms again achingly. “get out of here!” you order riki, “me and piplup can deal with it.” the blue penguin chirps in agreement as she gets up herself, stretching her tiny arms and puffing up her chest again in an attempt of intimidation.

the pidgeys have almost caught up to the both of you, yet riki refrained from standing down; instead rushing to stand in front of you defensively. “no y/n, i have to do something helpful today,” he snaps. “turtwig, use razor leaf!”

riki spoke confidently as if he’s done this a million times before, yet it wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that this encounter was both of your first ever real battles.

your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets at his command. “what— but— riki no! grass types are unaffective against flying types, we learned this in—“

it was too late — turtwig had already jumped in front of you in obedience to his owner, throwing an attack at the brown creatures with an angry howl.

but just as you’d explained, the normally sharp leaves had barely any effect on the pidgeys, only infuriating them further as they grouped together to summon another giant whirlwind at you.

right as the tornado spins towards you, you feel riki rush over and wrap his body around you protectively, shielding you for whatever’s to come. his arms felt surprisingly sturdy and warm, opposing the powerful body of wind firing your way.

at the same time, a new voice breaks the silence of your accepted defeat. “watch out, you two!”

you feel riki squeeze you tighter just before everything turns black.

———

it takes you a couple tries until your eyes fully open. the peaceful silence keeps you calm as you slowly but surely wake up, taking in the white hospital room accompanied with a quiet beep of a monitor next to you.

at your awakening, piplup coos in greeting from the pillow beside you. “hey cutie,” you greet with a smile, patting your pokemon’s head affectionately.

“oh, thought you were talking to me.”

you quickly turn over to your other side to see a dishevelled riki in a bed of his own, raven hair sticking up in all directions and a blue hospital gown adorning his figure. he has a couple bandages wrapped around his arms, and your chest tightens when you see slight hints of blood seeping through then.

at his words, you sigh. it amazed you how your neighbour managed to joke around even in a situation like this. “how’re you feeling?” you ask with worry.

riki looks away, staring up at the white ceiling emotionlessly. “useless, stupid, a failure.” you frown further. “besides that, just peachy.”

“it was just a mistake—“

“i’ve made enough of those, don’t you think?” he snaps, now completely turned on his other side to avoid eye contact. “and that time it wasn’t just another fuck up, y/n. you could’ve got hurt.”

your brows furrow, mind flashing back to how hard riki tried to protect you throughout the entire attack, no matter if he was endangered in the process. “and what about you, ki? sure, you messed up, but instead of running away like some people would, you tried your hardest to fix it and take responsibility.” the boy remains motionless, breathing slowly against his white pillow. “even when those pidgey’s nearly swept us off into a damn tornado, you still tried to protect me instead of yourself for some stupid reason.”

he scoffs. “c’mon y/n, you know damn well what that reason is.”

“what? no i d—“

“i care about you, like, a lot. i fucking like you, dummy.” at last, riki sits back up to face you, casually smoothing his hair down as if he’d just commented on the weather or what he had for breakfast. the boy scoffs as you freeze, rendered speechless with your lips parted dumbly. “geez, you’re acting like this is new information,” he deadpans.

in his head, you’d always known of his little-not-so-little crush, but just decided to stay quiet in hopes of not breaking his heart — which he secretly appreciated, even if it was the complete wrong approach to take.

meanwhile, you were spiralling. riki, as in nishimura riki — your idiotic neighbour, lifelong childhood friend, the boy who didn’t know that grass pokemon are useless against flying ones — liked you?

suddenly, you feel a demanding peck on your arm, which happens to be piplup sending you a ‘stop sitting there uselessly before something flies into your mouth’ glare.

you gulp, making hesitant eye contact with him. “i- i really didn’t know, how- when?” you exclaim desperately.

before your answers could be retrieved, the hospital room’s door is pulled open, revealing a handsome young male with jet black hair and sunglasses. a varsity jacket covers his built figure, along with a navy backpack thrown over his left shoulder. his features and demeanour were all extremely sharp and intimidating, which you suppose matches the charmeleon that follows close behind him.

the boy removes his eyewear, surveying you up and down before doing the same to riki and releasing an amused chuckle. “finally. you newbies were out all night.”

riki grunts. “who are you?”

“call me jay, the one who saved your asses.” he explains, leaning up against the wall with crossed arms. “which reminds me, you little dorks owe me big time. took me and my buddy here lot’s of energy turning those pidgeys into dinner.” his tone was too difficult to read to assume he was kidding around, no matter how aggressively charmeleon growled in agreement.

you and riki shared a disbelieving look while jay lets out a yawn, completely unaffected by your lack of response. “y’know, i wouldn’t mind a cash reward too.”

“sorry for the trouble, and thank you,” you gulp. “i had some in my bag i think, you can—“

another round of laughter cuts you off. “i’m playing with you guys, it’s all good. how about you repay me by accepting the poor guy’s confession? i heard there’s a great first date spot up in sandgem town.” riki’s eyes widen at that, an embarrassing tint of red reaching his ears at the idea of the older male listening in on the past few minutes.

relievingly, a doctor shows up moments later. “sir, i’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to check on these patients in a minute.”

before his fortunate departure, jay sends one more glance between the both of you, winking at riki and leaving a teasing salute behind.

it was awkwardly silent once he was gone.

until once again, piplup delivers a gentle but demanding peck to your arm, snapping you out of your daze. you swallow in determination, attempting to build your confidence as you sit further up in bed. “riki, i—“

“it’s okay,” the male swiftly intervenes, “you don’t have to say anything, i already know you don’t—“

“riki!”

he flinches slightly at your raise in volume, sending you a bewildered glare. “what?!”

“geez, i like you too, idiot.” you get a blank stare in response for a good minute, which only comes to an end once a proud, approving chirp from piplup snaps him out of it. riki swallows, clearly not prepared for such an outcome judging by his hands that fidget with each other endearingly.

“oh,” he replies uselessly, ignoring the headbutt turtwig punishes him with moments after.

of course that was all he had to say.

you roll your eyes, hopping off your bed to begin searching through your backpack. it’d be better to simply change the subject if he’s going to react like this, isn’t it?

“jay mentioned something about sandgem being the next town, and that only means one thing. we’re all the way back in twinleaf. so i guess we’ll have to—“ when you look up from the map, you freeze at the view of riki standing in front of you, holding a look in his eye that differs from any one that he’s given you previously. he reaches for the map and places it gently on the bed, taking another step closer to your figure.

your breath immediately hitches. despite the messiest bed-head imaginable, bloody bandages, and his outfit being nothing but an unappealing hospital gown, your best friend never failed to look good, and it was about time you pointed it out. “y/n, do you mean it?”

you didn’t need to ask to understand what he meant. “yeah.. do you?”

before you knew it, your jaw was being cupped ever so softly by his palm, and when you didn’t reject his touch, riki leaned down to connect his lips with yours. it wasn’t rushed or frantic — no, your reckless best friend managed to kiss you so gently, you think he’s imagining you poof-ing into the thin air if he moved any rougher. his other hand attempts to bring you closer by the waist, but the action only results in a pained hiss due to the bandage-clad injuries decorating his skin.

pulling away reluctantly, you reach up to squeeze his shoulder while desperately attempting to hide your giddy smile. “y’know, i always imagined you’d be a messy kisser.”

riki smirks. “i can be if you want me to, dummy.”

at the sound of his nickname that you’ve annoyingly got accustomed to, you pout. “you’re really still gonna call me that?”

his lips press against yours once more, effectively shooing your pout away. “of course, you think being your boyfriend would make me change or something?”

huffing, you reach down to put the map back into your backpack, accepting defeat. “whatever, we should get out of here before the doctors come.”

“okay.. wait,” riki’s eyes brighten mischievously, immediately sending a worried expression to your face. “so.. you’ve imagined kissing me?”

shit.

“…piplup, use water gun.”

if you enjoyed, reblogs + feedback are always appreciated n’ motivating!

© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

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[icallhimjoey]

bestie *grabs you by the face and makes you listen to me* i am obsessed already! there isn't going to be a day where you don't know how to captivate me with your words, it's not fair! so... we're in a wedding dress and we've passed out and joe is wearing the unseen but already infamous olive green vintage suit... now what???

excellent question! here we go (smallest teeny tiny little tw: mention of the thought of someone committing suicide) Wordcount: 2.9K

---

Between Floors and Feelings

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Joe wasn’t exactly sure how this worked, but being put into a position where he had to take charge, where there didn't seem to be any other choice but to take charge, made it really easy to actually do just that. He took charge.

He just... did it. Went with it. Felt he was doing an okay job at managing it, too.

Sure, he was stuck in a tube station lift after midnight with a pretty girl who had panicked, had seemed to entirely forget how to breathe properly and had made herself pass out, but... he felt like he’d been in worse spots.

At least he knew for certain where you were. Had eyes on you. Could see and would know that you didn't... you know, make silly permanent decisions to what likely were temporary problems.

Because all problems were ultimately temporary, weren't they? Joe believed so, at least.

You’d only been out for a few seconds, hadn't gotten hurt in the process, and from his crouched position next to you, Joe had tried to speak to the lady on the other side of the intercom.

That didn’t work. She asked again if their services were needed, clearly not hearing any of what Joe was trying to tell her.

“Hang on!” Joe shouted over his shoulder towards the corner of the lift, and it made you wince at the sudden loud noise.

Waking up after involuntarily blacking out was awful. Disorienting, unsettling and confusing. Embarrassing too. It also took you a second to fully understand where you were and what had happened, and nothing really clicked into place until the strange man that hovered above you shouted.

Pounding heartbeat.

Lingering headache.

So drained.

“Here,” Joe capped the water bottle he was holding, and placed it down where you could see it. “Can you do one thing for me?”

You tried to sit up, tried to engage your muscles to help you move your head up from the floor.

“Two things!” Joe held up both hands, universal sign for stop. It made you lay back down and relax the muscles of your neck. “Two things, can you do two things for me?”

You groaned, knowing it was important to take things slowly, but you couldn’t feel anything down past your knees and as you told your brain to tell your toes to wiggle inside your shoes, you weren’t sure if anything was even happening down there.

“Don’t move,” Joe counted on a finger held over your face so you could see. “And focus on breathing, okay?”

You felt shaky and your face felt cold – wet – and you lifted hands to touch, to wipe, but your arms were too weak and moving them became just a weird trembling hover of clammy palms over white fabric.

Joe saw, took hold of them both and squeezed.

My God, those were possibly the sweetest most expressive eyes you had ever looked into. This guy looked at you like he'd known you all his life, like he knew exactly what had happened to you earlier that evening, like he could feel everything you were feeling right now.

And it helped.

“Just focus on breathing, nothing else. S’all you’ve got to do,”

Behind him, the static of the intercom died, and Joe muttered, “Oh, fuck,” before quickly getting up and moving towards it, pressing the emergency button once again.

“Inhale,” Joe said, bent with an ear close to the speaker, but eyes on you. One of his arms was stuck out to you, which didn't do anything, but it was nice anyway.

You decided that having just one job to do was actually... sort of nice.

You didn’t need to think of anything else for a second. Didn’t need to think about how the entire night had unfolded. How you’d seen you boyfriend – ex, oh my God, ex-boyfriend now, Jesus Christ. How you’d seen him excuse himself to go to the toilets, but then had seen him walk in the opposite direction.

You couldn’t believe you’d actually seen it.

With your own two eyeballs.

“Exhale,” Joe said and demonstrated an excruciatingly slow escape of his breath through his mouth.

“Keep going, take a minute, all right?”

Focussed. Eyes on the weird ceiling light boxes of the lift. Inhale. You could stay focussed. Just one job. One small task. Exhale. You could do this.

Slowly, you noticed that you could actually feel your feet fine. That your headache wasn't that prominent. Just a background sort of thing, probably because you were slightly dehydrated from the crying, and you listened to the intercom lady talk to Joe.

“Emergency services, how can I assist you?”

“Yes, hello!” Joe sounded unusually upbeat seeing the current situation you found yourselves in. “I am– we are stuck in a lift,” Joe waited a second, hoped maybe some form of acknowledgement would come through. However, it stayed silent, so he continued, “It's just me and one other person in one of the Covent Garden tube station lifts, and–”

Joe got cut off right in the middle of his sentence.

“Hello, emergency services. You have pressed the emergency button in one of our lifts, are you in need of any help?”

Joe stared and blinked at the little holes that formed a larger circle.

“Yea, we're stuck,” you tasted a tinge of annoyance in Joe's tone. “The lift stopped moving and the doors–”

“Hello?”

“Hello?!”

Joe looked at you questioningly disturbed, as if to say, am I crazy? What the fuck's happening?

Then the static of the intercom stopped again. Like they'd hung up on you.

“I think it's broken,” you said, voice way too small for your own liking.

Joe tried again, pressed the emergency button, waited for the static to come on, but the same thing happened. A voice asked if you needed assistance, if you needed any help, but it seemed like the microphone on your end wasn't working properly. They weren't receiving any of what you were saying. Of what Joe was trying to articulate slowly, to enunciate distinctly, and he grew more and more irritated each time he had to repeat himself.

Cool time to feel the urgency within your body that came from your bladder that needed emptying.

You needed to piss badly.

Joe pressed the emergency button again. And then again. Checked his own phone to be presented with the difficult truth that he also did not have any service underground, and then, pressed the emergency button yet again.

What else was there to do? How else were you going to get out of there?

“At some point they must understand,” Joe explained, and you agreed. There was going to have to be a point you could reach by just pressing this button over and over for people on the other side to realise that this wasn't kids just pranking them, or an accidental press of a button. Maybe they could somehow see where you were, have someone locate you and get you out... you didn't know how emergency buttons in lifts worked.

You just laid there and listened to Joe pressing a button, to a lady asking the same urgent question that didn't get an answer she could hear until you could no longer feel your heartbeat in your fingertips.

Slowly, the acceptance that this was going to probably last for at least a little while settled within you.

You told your bladder to keep it together.

Shit.

It all made fucking sense, didn't it? Your worst-night-ever bingo card hadn't had "stuck in a lift" crossed off yet, so of course, this had to happen. Almost felt like it was written in the stars a little. Meant to be. One bad fuck up right after the other. Life really knew how to kick you right in the shins when you'd just been knocked over the head.

“I'm going to sit up now,” you announced, because you felt like you couldn't just move without letting him know. Not after the whole can you do two things for me.

Before you could even attempt to slowly pick yourself up off the floor, a tweed-cladded knee pressed into the tulle that felt like it engulfed you entirely, and two hands helped pull you up into a sitting position.

“Here, against the side,” Joe said, hands softly guiding, but persisting you moved to sit with your back leant against a side panel of the lift.

God.

You'd forgotten what it was like for someone to fret over you like this. All worried and distraught. All caring and shit. Attentive, almost doting. T'was cute.

Like, you were fine, but it was kind of nice. Kind of fed your self-pity a little. Made it go, yea, see?! we are sad and we do need taking care of.

“Are you all right?”

A careful second passed where you tried to really feel within your body if you were. And... you were, so you gave a small nod.

Then, the water bottle got kindly pressed into your hands again.

“I won't force you, I know I drank from that, but I promise, you will probably feel better if you just had sip,”

The faintest of little smiles appeared on your face when you finally took the bottle from Joe's hands, and you'd have taken hold of it much sooner had you known the facial expression it would bring about from him.

You still weren't going to take a sip though. Didn't want to fill up your bladder more. It was already painful enough as it was.

Joe got up and went to press the emergency button again.

A silence passed. Just static.

Joe pressed the button over and over, waited for the same question to be asked, waited for the static to stop, and then, he'd just press it again.

This was ridiculous.

Your gaze went from looking up at Joe down towards your hands in your lap. Water bottle immersed in bridal fabric.

You had seen your boyfriend make out with your boss whilst she was pulling off his tie.

You had pissed in her handbag.

You were stuck in a tube station lift with a faulty intercom and a handsome stranger.

Ridiculous.

You huffed a laugh that surprised you a little.

Fuck, this was so fucking ridiculous.

The huff turned into soft giggles, which turned into a louder chuckle, and when you looked back up to make eye-contact with Joe, you squeezed your eyes shut as big belly laughs escaped you.

“This is so ridiculous!” you laughed, and when you looked again, you saw Joe was biting back his laughter until it loudly escaped from his throat through his teeth. “What is even happening right now?!”

You felt delirious, overtaken with giggles that you couldn't stop because you were far too tired to work against them.

You laughed and laughed, drowning out the lady asking if you needed assistance. You had to wipe under your eyes where you found tears in the corners and you didn't mind wiping these away. These were good ones.

Joe ended up throwing his head back, shoulders slack from his giggles, then bending forward, nearly tumbling over which only made you laugh more. He leant against the wall opposite you, laughed and slowly slid down until his bum reached the floor and his trousers had ridden up, bright yellow socks now revealed to you.

You laughed until it slowly fizzled out into smaller giggles. Then a last huff, maybe two. Then silence again.

The atmosphere had gone from strangely tense to stupidly playful. This was nicer. Made you relax into yourself a little more.

“I'm sorry you had to deal with... that,” you said through a stupid smile, vaguely motioning with a heavy arm to the spot in front of you where you'd passed out a little earlier.

“Nah, don't worry about it,” Joe scrunched up his whole face as he shook his head a little. “I hope you didn't have urgent plans,” Joe made a face, tucked in chin, eyebrows raised high, followed by small nod with his eyes trained on the tulle of your skirt. Like a wedding, he meant jokingly.

You snorted. Made Joe laugh again.

“Because, we might be stuck in here for a while.”

It made you frown and groan.

“This is just my luck.”

“You um... you seem like you've had quite the evening,” Joe treaded lightly, sounding like he was just making conversation but was very clearly pointing out the elephant in the lift. The big, poofy, white one.

“This isn't,” you shook your head and winced at yourself. “This isn't what it looks like, sorry,”

You saw confusion strike, and you bit your lips into your mouth as you squinted, contemplating if you should tell him. If you did, it had to be the full story. Just going, “oh I'm not a bride, this isn't my wedding day” would only lead to more confusion, because that's what it looked like, wasn't it?

But lying felt worse.

Joe was right. You might be stuck in there for a little while.

So, you thought it over for maybe three seconds, then stuck out a hand for Joe to shake and you introduced yourself. Said your name, and Joe repeated it back to you.

“Joe,” he then said, reintroducing himself.

“I'm not a bride,” you followed up.

“Cool, neither am I,” Joe said and smirked. Pulled another giggle from you.

Shit.

“This is fancy dress,” you motioned both hands up and down your frame.

“So is this,” Joe did the same, copying your movements.

“No it isn't,” you laughed. That suit looked far too expensive to be fancy dress.

“No, it's not,” Joe agreed and laughed along.

Fuck, it felt good to laugh.

Flirty bastard.

Joe looked up towards the emergency button above him and reached a hand, pressing it again, not even bothering with waiting for the intercom to spring to life. He just needed to press it to press it. To let people know you were still stuck. While the intercom static filled the lift car once again, he turned back to you and continued the conversation.

“Bridezilla?” he questioned.

You slowly inhaled a deep breath. “Well... ex-wife, or so it turns out,”

Oof.

Joking about it felt wrong and made you itch all over. Too soon. Far too soon. Big nope.

Jesus, that nearly made you want to cry again.

Joe saw, read it in your face, and straightened his own.

“If it's of any consolation,” he started, then squeezed is eyes firmly shut as he said, “You look fantastic.”

It burst another laugh from your chest that immediately made you sit up straighter. “Stop, stop,” you pleaded. “I'm going to pee myself,”

“No!” Joe lurched forward, added “Sorry, sorry!” with a joyfully painful face so full of empathy, you didn't really know what to do with all the care they held for you.

You winced through half laughs with tensed shoulders until they died down, then made awkward eye-contact and passed Joe's water bottle back to him.

“Oh, yea,” Joe took it, held it up a little to drive home the point that he understood why you hadn't taken a sip yet.

Your eyes shot back up towards the emergency button. Joe saw, reached a hand up, pressed it once more and said, “They must come soon,”

He just said that to make sure you stayed calm, you understood. But you wanted to be realistic. Needed to at least speak the question that played on your mind into existence.

“What if they don't?”

It made Joe look at you a second before he turned his head and inspected all four corners of the lift.

“If they don't, we'll just... we'll move closer to here,” Joe pointed towards the corner he was closest to. Closest to the intercom. “And we'll use that corner to pee,”

Another snort laugh.

Another wince.

Another, “Sorry,” from Joe who couldn't help the pursed little smile on his face at the fact that he'd made you laugh again.

“They better fucking hurry,” you said mostly to yourself, and Joe leant forward, reached, and somehow knew exactly where to grab to get your knee through the layers of your skirt. He gave it a reassuring squeeze and said, “We'll be out of here in no time. You watch.”

He said it mostly to make sure panic wouldn't get a hold of you again.

Wished he was right so you wouldn't actually need to resort to assigning a certain corner of the box you were trapped in to be the bathroom.

Wished he was wrong because, strangely, this didn't actually seem so bad.

Joe’d been in worse spots. Way worse spots.

He was stuck in a tube station lift with a broken intercom after midnight with a pretty girl who had made herself pass out and who really needed the toilet, but... she laughed at his jokes, giggled at the faces he made and it was now all he wanted to do for the rest of the night.

Make her tear-stained face spill over with joy for however long he was granted the time to do so.

Just your luck? Just Joe's luck.

Yea.

This wasn't so bad.

Joe’d been in far worse spots.

---

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[a-s-levynn]

How i draw hands

under the cut, sorry for the wait, love you all

OKAY so it has been a while i did one of these. I have a vague memory of @ghost-raven-7 you asking for hands.

I also have a foggy memory of @takemetoasgard you mentioning mouths, so if you want, i could do one for that as well? I'm kinda enjoying doing these. In all fairness, these also help me to figure out how i do stuff actually.

So HANDS

Mind you, i am still neither a proper artist not particularly good at what i'm doing. It is just what i'm using or looking out for currently.

Also there is a lot of text, sorry about that.

As always references references references. With hands it is nice, because you have ready made reference package a ttached to your body. But you still gotta find what helps you understand how it works in 3D.

As always i have to preface, that if you know anatomically how your hand works and looks will help. I mean if you know where are the larger muscle groups or the tendons, etc. We all love cool lines on a back of a hand drawing, but it is more satisfying to look at if the line indicating the tendon is actually at the correct place. So i can only recommend to look at at least some anatomy illustrations.

But beyond that, what helped me a lot, was to simplify the hand to 2D shapes and figure it out from there. But how i do that?

Take pictures. It makes it so much easier, than just simply holding my hand in a certain position. I can do that as well, but if i take a picture it usully helps more with the "understand it in 2D" thing.

I segment it roughly like this, but others do it differently. It doesn't really matter as long as you are consistent with it, and you understand why you put a segment where you did.

Usually the segment edges are at joint lines of your hand. For one, because the natural lines of the hand can guide it. Secondly, joints are the movement points. It is where the parts of the hand will bend.

And simplifying a pose and trying to make it work on paper, at least for me, is much easier when i moving 2D panes around the space, instead of a complex 3D object. At least this is how i understand it. But how that works in practicality?

Let's have an other picture of my hand. Excuse the quality. Also the lack of ST bracelets, but i need you to kinda see the lines of my otherwise amorph upper appendage.

So using the same blocking, this is roughly how the segments go. This is a tricky one, because of the the bending pinky and the general angle of the hand. But most prominently, the yellow pane folds in on itself, as if you are curling one corner of a piece of paper in front of itself.

You may notice that the blocking's edges are not as straight anymore, more curved. It is because of the perspective. If you want, you can think of your hand as a series of cylinders or tubes attached to each other. If you are not looking at it dead on, but from an angle, it is going to look curved.

Imagine a roll of toilet paper with a straight line running across it horizontally. From a very specific angle, it looks like a rectangle with a line. From any other perspective, you see that it is actually curved, amd the line won't be straight anymore. Also the top or bottom of it going to have a circe and all that. No more 90° angles. Same goes for the hand.

But with your hand, it is helped by the fact that your hand comes with build in lines, to guide you, and help you sell the 3D feel.

So have the above photo as a reference and do a step by step. Excuse me for not scanning or making a video, i am not on top of my game right now, but i'm trying.

Also watch me throw on my cord bracelet on there, to sell the illusion of curviture even further. I am not above cheap tricks to make it more believeable.

Of course if you throw some shading at it, it is going to further the illusion of the curves and 3D nature of a hand. It helps if you pick a proper lightsource not like me, but still. In general, if you shade the recesses and creases darker, then you can't miss too hard.

These are just the basics, you can refine or stylize it from here as much as you feel like it really.

Also, nails. I don't really like them, for me it messes up my anatomy more than i'd like to admit it, because i am way too lazy with them, but i know people who actually find adding them super helpful. So experiment!

And i think that's it for hands? If there is anything i should add, or needs more clrification on, please let me know and i'll either edit this, or add it in a reblog. And again, i apologize for taking this long.

[varpusvaras]

No no. You don’t understand. I need expansion on Rex being ori’vod to the most problematic cc batch. Pls. I need it for medical reasons. 💕😘

Ahahah I just had a video about the clone ages come up, and got reminded of the fact that Rex is a Generation 1 clone...like, there's an actual possibility that he is either a) the same age as the CC batch (he and Cody have the same birth year listed at the very least) or b) he might actually be older than them or at least some of them. I couldn't find when Fox was born, unlike with Rex (his birth year was listed as 32 BBY, whereas Fox was only given that he was sent out approximately a decade into the cloning project), so my mind immediately went with "there's nothing in canon that says that Rex is younger than Fox". And because to me Fox is the batch baby, this made him Even More Baby, lmao.

Just imagine being Fox, thinking that you've finally gotten a vod'ika, because Cody keeps bringing up the CT all the time. Only for the CT to turn out to be older than you, and because everybody in the batch is propping him up, he has absolutely no respect for you. Everybody thinks it's hilarous, actually. Rex is elated (and gets his first rush of Ori'vod feelings). Fox is definitely not elated.

They might have some sort of truce going on, like "when we are in the public, please refrain from doing anything that will expose me" but in the private? It's gloves off. Rex wrangles Skywalker all day every day. The crumpy Commander is nothing to him. They have a battle of wills every time where they both revise the rule books about whether or not it is allowed for Fox to go to sleep. Rex wins a lot. The story doesn't tell if he wins by switching the battlemode to wrestling but he wins a lot anyway.

Now, Fox might go and get his hands on the decanting records on Kamino. Don't ask. Rex may or may not have been taken out off his tube a liiittle bit earlier than some other members of the batch. He just might.