#i love to see him all hurt and distressed
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piftamere · 2 days ago
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twelve - hello kitty bandages (wc : 600; cw : blood)
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it’s late, he’s sitting on her washing machine, she’s standing between his legs. a pile of blood soaked tissue paper and cotton pads fills the bathroom sink. a spray bottle of disinfectant in hand, the kind that stings. every so often, he winces, and she mumbles some curse word under her breath. she’s not a fucking nurse, he’s an idiot, he should've went to a hospital, it fucking won’t stop bleeding…
he’s being as quiet as he can. things were weird between them since the other night, and what his friends told him has been silently haunting the back of his mind. but after running out of the locker room with a busted lip and blood dripping down his hand and face, he could only think of one place to go. that’s how he ended up here, and even if it hurts, he has no regrets.
she’s focused, biting her lower lip in concentration, and under the dim light coming through the curtains, she looks beautiful.
when she’s done, his face is covered in hello kitty bandages.
she comes back from the kitchen with a bag of frozen peas, holding out her hand. he places his bruised hand in hers.
she holds the bag a few inches away from his knuckles before speaking, “tell me what happened.”
he shakes his head. “you don’t need to know.”
her brows furrow, “don’t try to protect me.”
she’s holding up his gaze. she won’t give up until he explains.
he looks down at his hand. with a sigh, he whispers, “shion was talking shit.”
“about me?”
he nods, he still won’t look into her eyes. “you sure you wanna know?”
“i’m sure.”
“…he called you a slut. said you ‘begged for it’, he asked me if i ‘hit that yet’. i don’t remember what he said after that. i snapped. before i knew it, my fist was in his nose.”
he takes a quick look at her face, she’s lost in thought for a moment.
“thanks… i guess,” she mutters, as she sets the peas on his bruise. she stares in his eyes. she presses down hard on his hand, as if to emphasize her words. “but i’m not a damsel in distress. i don’t need you to defend my honor.”
“especially if you’re gonna get hurt.” she doesn’t say it, at least not with her words, but he reads it in her gaze. then again, maybe he only sees what he wants to see.
he winces, and with chuckle he whispers, “yeah i know.”
hesitantly he reaches for her hand and links his uninjured fingers with hers. his thumb draws soothing circles into her skin. her shoulders relax.
“i hope he looks worse than you.”
“oh trust me, he does.” he smiles, the tear in his lip threatening to bleed again, before continuing, “sorry i won’t look nice on our date tomorrow.”
she shifts her weight on her feet, “don’t worry about that.”
she inches forwards, wrapping her arms around his neck. he rests his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes. he places his hand on the small of her back, holding her closer.
he nuzzles his face into her hair, mumbling, “i should get going,” making no effort to move at all.
“and what? walk back to your place in this state?”
“someone can come pick me up.”
she insists, "did he hit you on the head? don't be an idiot. stay the night."
he chuckles, as he tightens his hold on her, the frozen peas falling on the ground. “okay.”
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fun facts
atsumu was too upset about the loss to notice yn sneak away.
the bandages are yachi’s, it's all they had left.
yn's roommates went to celebrate the win but she wasn't in the mood to go with them.
atsumu and yn planned their date before the party and she was debating canceling it.
author's note
i really like this one :)
the men in this universe are lovely
play dumb! - next
taglist : open!
@alpha-mommy69 @bakugouswh0r3 @giocriedpower @itsdragonius @haechansbbg @wondipity @iaminyourfloors @na0koz @from-mae @eusaevi @kr1nqu @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @thechaosoflonging @littlemiyastars @seikamuzu @nymphsdomain @r4veeen @shesabeeler
if you're name is crossed out i couldn't tag you, if it's not fixed in a week i'll remove you sorry :(
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chaifootsteps · 1 day ago
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(warning, hazbin leak spoilers)
Just saw the full episode leak of season 2 episode 2 of hazbin hotel and no words that will describe how discomfort and disappointment that it gave me. I'm a selfshipper of Pentious and my god the way that this episode gave me nauseous. How can they mess his character this bad? How can they mess his backstory this bad? HOW???
They're bits and parts that I liked (his human design for example, he looks so cutie pie) but mostly it was discomfort. Him being chained was the biggest discomfort that it gave me considering that Viv has a fetish of it (ew), and I don't really like how they handled his backstory. It was the most lamest backstory that you could write about it. And him rubbing his neck after being chained made me verge of crying because he looked like he was about to cry and he looked so much in distress.
And the episode ends with him crying in the bed made my heart broke so bad. This poor man, they've done so SO dirty on him.
I know that an episode shouldn't make feel this bad but Sir Pentious is such a comfort for me and it hurts me that seeing him suffering right in my eyes hurts and me can't do anything to help him because he's not real hurts me so bad and it makes me cry. I'm covered myself in a blanket and cuddling my plush and trying to think that he's with me with so much comfort and happiness because this episode gave me so much disgust.
And to Sir Pentious.......I'm so so sorry that you have a shitty creator.
We'll all just have to collectively love him and hope it's enough to make up for how much his own creator doesn't.
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theweepingangelofcas · 2 days ago
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Too Much - William Moriarty x Reader
Summary: You're overstimulated. It's all too much. But don't worry, William will be happy to help. Hey guys! I'm trying my best to get back into writing on here, so please forgive me if its a slow start.
*************
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You felt like you were going to cry.
Everything was just too much. Your job, your peers, your life. It felt as though with each breath, your world was crashing down on you a little more.
You didn't want to tell your husband, William. His own life had been so chaotic recently, you knew he didn't need more added onto his plate. Just the other day, you could have sworn you saw tears falling from his eyes as you held him after a long day. He didn't need to worry about you too.
Of course, you couldn't hide it for long. He knew you too well. One tiny slip up, and all your emotions came bursting forth.
It felt so stupid.
You had hit your knee on the bedframe as you were changing into your nightgown. Normally, you would've just winced and continued on with your day. But this night, with everything else that had been weighing on you, all you could do was feel yourself shatter like a thin pane of glass.
It was like every thought you had was hateful, beating on the outside of your brain to be let in. Worthless. Useless. Stupid. Ugly. All of it was overwhelming you until you found yourself, sobbing a puddle as you laid on the floor. Your head was in your hands, your knees drawn closely to your chest. You felt like you were just a small, stupid child.
You don't know how loudly you were sobbing, or even if it was dead quiet, but William found you soon after anyways. It was as though he could feel your anguish through the walls.
Running in through the bedroom door, he fell to his knees next to you, frantic to see if you were alright. You felt him gently turn you onto your back, felt his gaze searching for potential wounds. When he saw none, he gently laid himself next to you.
"Y/n? My love? Are you alright?"
The words came out much too distressed, "No, William. My head hurts. I'm so dumb. Why are you with me? I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be anywhere. I don't deserve any bit of this life. I'm so flawed and you don't seem to see it!"
Your lips just kept moving, spewing a torrent of everything that had been on your mind. Your coworker's laziness, the man who harassed you while you were buying groceries, the feeling of being not enough. You just couldn't stop it. It was like a dam in your mind was broken, and nothing could help it close again.
That was, until, you felt his hand gently guiding your head to look at him.
"Shh. I know. I know. But I promise you, dear, none of those things are true. You truly are a beautiful, lovely, amazing individual. You don't deserve to feel this way."
You watched as he stood up, turning to the bed and fluffing the pillow near the headrest. Then, he stooped down, scooping you into his warm arms.
Tears were still flowing freely by the time he tucked you into the covers, and he wiped them away with his finger.
"Y/n? I'm going to draw you a bath. I will be right back, I promise."
You reached out for his hand, still sniffling, but she shushed you gently, "Right back. Cross my heart."
You nodded, turning to bury your face in the plush pillow beneath your head.
True to his word, he was gone for less than 5 minutes. You could hear the water running in the adjacent bathroom, and lavender scented suds could be seen dancing above the tub.
"A bubble bath?"
He nodded, "It's much more fun that way, isn't it? I even added some of those magnesium salts you love so much."
He held out his hand, and you took it. Guiding you out of bed, he led you to the bathroom, "I'll leave while you get undressed. Please call for me once you're in the tub."
You nodded, watching as he left. The door shut, and you shed your nightgown quickly, not wanting time to see the body you were so ashamed of.
Sinking into the water did feel like heaven, though. It was perfectly warmed. Hot, but not too hot. Enough to relax your tense muscles. The bubbles rested close to your chin, and you could smell the lavender tonic he used to make them.
You hummed, and he peeked his head back in.
Even though you were thoroughly covered by bubbles, you still instinctively placed your hands over your chest to hide yourself, and he shut his eyes immediately.
"So sorry, my love. I swear I'll keep my eyes closed."
You blinked away the last few tears you had, "I'm the one that's sorry, Will. You were probably having such a nice evening before I ruined it."
You felt his hands go to your shoulders, gently massaging the knots away, "Nonsense. I'm having a lovely evening with you, right now."
Deep breath in, deep breath out, you allowed the scents in the air to calm your nerves. You felt a gently kiss to the back of your head, his hands not stopping their ministrations.
Perhaps, just maybe, you didn't hate yourself that much after all.
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jifloulette · 10 hours ago
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It reminded me of you.
relationships with blue lock boys as kpop songs . . .
pairing -> itoshi rin, bachira meguru, yoichi isagi x gn!reader (seperate !)
warnings -> some angst on some parts, swearing here and there, might be ooc ? not proofread !!
word count -> rin and yoichi's is 0.7k, bachira's is 0.9k
author's note -> please click the links on the song names !! it'll help you understand why i chose that specific song ^^
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. . . itoshi rin !
♫ now playing . . run2u by stayc - - - next in queue . . save me save you by wjsn
You knew the risks of dating someone cold and stoic like RIN ITOSHI, hell you were even surprised that he liked you back. You knew damn well that you were going to get hurt in the process, but you didn't care. All you wanted to do was to be with him. It doesn't matter if he's happy (you might not see it on the outside but being his s/o made you know how he is if he's happy), disheartened or upset. Your friends warned, fuck, even your classmates who you didn't even know or liked told you so. They just didn't know him like you did. Yes, you've gotten hurt before but he would ALWAYS apologize. You've learned to become patient for him during his breakdowns, he would say things like "I fuckin' hate my lukewarm brother." and "I need to become fucking better, how else am I.. gonna beat him..". You were confused whenever his breakdowns happened, it wasn't a weekly thing for him to do that, it only happened whenever you noticed him become tense and pressured. You didn't know why he hated his brother, I mean the Itoshi Sae? But you've never asked him about it, knowing he'd get agitated.
You were the first ever person he fell for, the first person he genuinely liked being around. RIN ITOSHI was scared for the first time again, scared that one day you might leave him too. Scared that he might scare you away because god, he knows how he acts whenever he's feeling distressed. He couldn't understand it, why have you stayed this long with him? Why did you treat him so differently? Weren't you just using him for his money and his fame? He knew the answers to all of his questions when one day, he just couldn't take it anymore. He'd accidentally lashed out his anger on you, the one person who he actually cared for. RIN ITOSHI had accidentally hit you, it didn't hurt much, yet it still alarmed you. He realized what he did just in time before he held you in his arms, apologizing over and over again as he cried onto your shirt. "Baby.. it's okay, really.." you said to him while caressing his hair. "N-no.. it's not! I'd accidentally hurt you, the one person I genuinely cared for..! H-how is that okay?!" RIN ITOSHI replied, you carefully asked him if he wanted to talk about why he felt like this to which he hesitantly said yes to. "I wanna know what happened, Rinnie.. don't try to hide it. I'll always be by your side", just by saying those words, RIN ITOSHI poured his heart out on his vent to you, saying that he felt distressed because he heard some of your classmates saying that his brother will always be better than him. He told you the reason why he hated his brother, he recalled the night where his brother said some things that was too painful to say out loud. After he was done, you held him in your arms once more, RIN ITOSHI couldn't take it anymore. He cried once again, asking you why you had stayed with him this long, why were you here listening to his vents, were you just getting dirt to gossip about him? You asked him saying, "Rinnie.. you wanna know why I've been here with you for so long?", he looked up at you with his beautiful teal eyes and simply nodded, "The only reason why I'm here with you is because I love you. Not for your fame, not for your success, and certainly not for your money but for you..", RIN ITOSHI was surprised, you really weren't using him? He had doubted you for a bit but oh, your tone while you said that to him made him believe that what you were saying is true. That's all that he needed to hear before hugging you tightly again, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Thank you so so fucking much, y/n.. you don't know how much I love you..", the black-haired boy in front of you said.
RIN ITOSHI now believes that true love exists, and true love is wherever you are. He didn't care if you saw him at his most vulnerable state, he knew you wouldn't gossip that to your other friends. RIN ITOSHI now knows the answers to all of his questions, he knows that you will stay with him until the end of times.
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. . . bachira meguru !
♪ now playing . . love is lonely by NMIXX
BACHIRA MEGURU was convinced that you were his special someone. You were convinced that he was your special someone too. For all of BACHIRA MEGURU's life, he'd been lonely. Only sharing his love and appreciation to his mother who held deeply in his heart. The second you went up to him, asking if he was okay, he felt skeptical. He wasn't stupid, so he'd ask you if someone ordered you to come to him just to record him at his weakest. You were taken aback yet you knew what the others said about him and his "monster", you really could care less about what they said about him. "Huh? No.. I came here because I saw feeling down after classes ended." you replied, you took your hand out and asked him if he wanted to come with you to go to a place that was special to you. He was reluctant at first but eventually gave in. He'd noticed you in class before, you weren't like the others. You genuinely had a pure heart.
You ran in front of him while holding his hand still. BACHIRA MEGURU swore he felt a big, genuine smile starting to grow on his face. Were you the person the monster inside him was looking for? You introduced him to a small bench, not that far from the school. You told him how you discovered this place as you were randomly walking home and decided that it was gonna be your special place. You had brought fairy lights to hang on the trees that were around the bench. The two of you sat on it and it was as if fate that you guys fit perfectly on it. You went on rambling about how you'd always wanted to be his friend but you were to shy to ask him, and how he'd been the first ever person you had brought along to go here. He didn't even notice how there was light pink tint starting to grow on his face. Ever since then, you and BACHIRA MEGURU had been together as if the two of you were cursed for all eternity to be together, he wouldn't mind if that was the case.
It wasn't long before he had started to fall for you, just the way you would talk to him, take care of him, comfort him, and treat him as if he were an actual person were just a few reasons on why he'd fallen for you. If he could, he would rant on for hours and hours on why he likes you so much. Before he knew it, it had already been 6 months since the two of you had met. You'd asked him to go your guys' special place to which he had ecstatically said yes to. He obviously wanted to at least look good for you, even though you said that whatever he would wear, he'd still look good. The second he arrived at the bench, he saw that you weren't there which was strange.. He thought maybe you were just playing games with him. "Y/n! You can come out now~!" BACHIRA MEGURU shouted playfully, yet you still didn't come out. He noticed an envelope on the bench with a heart sticker on it, he knew that he would want you to open it knowing that only you and him knew about this secret hangout spot and thought you had left it for him to find. He noticed a handwritten "To: BACHIRA MEGURU, my best friend in the whole entire world" on it, and when he opened the envelope, a long piece of paper was in it. He slowly unfolded it and read the contents of the letter. "Dear Megu, I'm sorry I couldn't come to you face to face to tell you what I've been feeling recently. The thing is, the second you held my hand that late afternoon, I fell for you. Call it stupid but god, I immediately fell for you. The fact you didn't hesitate to come with me just made me blush thinking about it. I've always knew I liked you before we were even friends, but I just thought of it as infatuation. You really did prove me wrong because you were the person I've been meaning to find ever since I watched romance movies and discovered what love is. The fact you listen to my endless talks about whatever really made me fall for you even more! In the span of the 6 months of our friendship, you became someone that I loved being around with. I want to end our friendship though.. and maybe start having a new relationship, a romantic one. Soo.. what do you say? Will you accept?", the letter said and god did he fall for you even more. The fact that you loved him the same way he loved you, oh who was he kidding, he's head over heels for you. As he was coming to the end of the letter, a pair of hands slowly hugged him from behind. He knew it was you, he recognized your touch all too well. The second you hugged him, he turned around and picked you up. "Oh y/n! You don't know how long I've been waiting for this day!" You were surprised, you really didn't expect that unpredictable action of his. Your smile became as big as the entire world to say the least, your eyes having some sort of sparkle in it. "So, do you accept..?" you asked gleefully, to which BACHIRA MEGURU replied by kissing you.
BACHIRA MEGURU had finally found the true meaning of love, it was the embodiment of you. The hardships of his life he had left behind due to you. He went inside the school campus with a smile on his face knowing you would be there waiting for him. BACHIRA MEGURU had finally fallen, he had let himself fall for you.
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. . . isagi yoichi !
𝄞 now playing . . cool with you by New Jeans
If there was one word to describe how ISAGI YOICHI felt whenever he was with you, it would be comfort. Just being beside you, it would bring him to ease knowing that you were right there with him. You guys could be scrolling on your phones, showing each other different videos that reminded you guys of each other and he would already fall deeper in love with you. You understood him better than anyone else could, you knew what to do and what to say whenever he felt sorrowful. Whether it be losing a really really important soccer match or if he felt insecure and unconfident. Maybe that's why he liked you so fucking much. Your presence just soothes his soul, he didn't know how to explain it, it just did.
ISAGI YOICHI didn't always need for you to tell him how much you loved him, he could always feel it, as if the two of you were somehow telepathically connected. Just simply holding his hand, caressing his hair, and telling him how good he was at playing soccer was all he needed to know. People could see how deep the connection the two of you had, even before you guys were together. Whatever emotion he was feeling, it was almost as if you felt it the same way he did, maybe that's why the two of you had such a strong bond with each other. The two of you could go days and days doing the same thing over and over again but it wouldn't bore him, not when the person who he cherishes most was with him. Sometimes, ISAGI YOICHI finds himself zoning out during classes just thinking about you! He just can't help it, he's totally the type to chat you "I miss you" the second you part ways after walking home from school. He really cherishes every moment he has with you, even if he's not physically next to you, just seeing you makes him relaxed. That's definitely his motivation whenever you watch his games as well, just seeing you cheer your heart out for him, he can't help but drive himself to win, just for you.
Even if he knows how much he means to you, he sometimes can't help but doubt himself, he finds himself wondering if the effort he's putting into the relationship is the same as the effort you put in. "Baby.. do you think that sometimes.. I'm somehow lacking something in our relationship..?" the deep blue-eyed boy in front of you asks, "Huh? Love, of course not! You've given so much into our relationship, what else could I ask for?" you reply, your hand cupping his cheek. "'m sorry baby, I just felt down.." ISAGI YOICHI says, "Oh baby.. don't you ever think that you're dragging our relationship down, okay? I know you love me the same way I love you." you remind him, kissing his forehead. You see him blush and the tip of his ears turn red and you pinch his cheek as you tease him for being so so cute! "H-hey..! Why'd you just randomly pinch me!" the dark blue haired boy says, "Well, you're just so so so cute and I can't believe you're mine~!" you playfully respond. His face becomes even redder now that you said that. You chuckle at the sight of him and you pepper his face with kisses, on his lips, his neck, his jawline, his forehead, you bet that you didn't leave any part of his face untouched. It was moments like these in where he thought that the two of you were the only ones in the world, he has an album of memories in his brain stored with each and every memory the two of you had ever made. God was he crazy about you.
ISAGI YOICHI believed, no, he knew that you were his soulmate and that you knew that he was yours. He would find comfort whenever you were with him, and though he isn't the most verbally talkative lover, you knew how much he adores you. (Please let him daydream about how ethereal you would look at your guys' wedding, he would very much appreciate it, even if you find it funny)
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©🇯​​🇮​​🇫​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else.
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hursheys · 3 days ago
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4:00 am ⭑₊
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꒰♡꒱﹑ IN WHICH you're haunted by the ghost of him.
ıllı . ##2019 ( TIMESTAMP ) && beomgyu x gn. reader. beware. break up au, angst, hurt, comfort, time paradox. wc. 0.59k!
𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄 𝘅 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀 ◞♡   ⃗. @ihruaz
𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀 ◞♡   ⃗. @kstrucknet @loserlvrss @slytherinshua @welcometomyoasis
AUTHORS NOTE ♡⃕. this came out angstier than i had intended and i’m blaming my sad playlist. like and reblog!
© 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗒𝗌 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟦. 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱.
• back to ( LIBRARY )
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You stir awake, blinking your sleepy eyes as they adjust to the dim light. Rubbing your face to shake off the lingering drowsiness, you feel your boyfriend stirring beside you.
Glancing at the nightstand, you glare at the clock next to you. 
For weeks now, you’ve been waking up at the same time each morning. Your clock always reads the same thing.
4:00 am.
The sound of your name pulls you out of your daze as your boyfriend murmurs, “Come back to sleep, will you? It’s too early, my love.”
“I can’t—it’s always the same time. Why?” you ask, barely managing to hold back your tears. At the sound of your distress, Beomgyu sits up, wrapping his arms around you and gently wiping away your tears. 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he reassures you as you curl into him, seeking refuge in his embrace. “I’m here. I’ll always be right here.”
“But you’re not,” you manage to say, looking up at him, “You’re gone.”
“What?” Beomgyu replies, a confused laugh escaping his lips. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been gone for a while now, remember? I told you to leave,” you exclaim, a mix of frustration and sadness overwhelming you, “This is just another dream.”
Not long ago, you realized you couldn’t keep deceiving him—or yourself. Each “I love you” echoed with an emptiness that had lingered for too long. 
An emptiness you had chosen to overlook.
Just a few days after the breakup, he began to haunt you, waking you each morning at the exact moment you ended things with him.
“Remember, my love? I woke you up at this time,” you gesture toward the clock, which still reads four in the morning, “because I couldn’t keep lying to myself or to you—or to us.”
“Funny, I still see you as part of me, even though I was the one who insisted I didn’t need you anymore,” you sob, pressing closer to him, contradicting all the convincing stories you’ve told yourself—that you didn’t need him, that you didn’t love him. 
“Now you’re here, a ghost that haunts me, and strangely, I find comfort in that.”
“Then keep holding on to my ghost,” he whispered, pulling you even tighter as if fearing you might vanish at any moment.  “You must need me if I’m here haunting you, right? Please, let me stay with you for as long as you’ll have me.”
And so, you remained in that embrace you missed; he held you close as you cried.
Your comfort and your tormentor, Beomgyu, was your everything. In the aftermath of tearing out his soul, he was the one piecing yours back together.
As you ran out of tears and your eyelids grew heavy, you didn’t stir when he quietly got out of bed and slipped through your bedroom door, just like that night. His scent faded when the door clicked shut, and still, you didn’t react.
Laying your head back to sleep, you glanced at the clock: four in the morning. The numbers mocked you, a reminder that the remnants of his echo had become your constant and only source of solace.
In the ache of his absence, you felt undeniably alive, realizing, at last, that you had truly loved him all along. If you hadn’t, this ache would have been bearable— it simply wouldn’t exist. 
As you closed your eyes, a faint smile touched your lips at this revelation, you closed your eyes and began to drift off, only to be jolted awake by the relentless scream of time.
4:00 am. 
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ariiadnes · 18 hours ago
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╭ ⿻ ・ TENDING TO THEIR INJURIES ( part i. )
ଓ.° ・ thoma ・ itto ・ childe. genshin impact. repost.
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❀ ゚. ༄ thoma
"i'm okay, i'm okay! i promise."
the way thoma winces when you dress his injuries betrays a forced smile. you study him, brows furrowed in both concern and distress-- concern at his condition, distress at his failed attempts to downplay it.
you want to say a thousand things-- ask him why he's trying to hide the pain, what happened-- but the lump in your throat renders you speechless and the tears that threaten to form shift focus elsewhere. you inhale, shaky-- exhale, and look away from him. he doesn't need another problem-- and it's stupid to cause him worry because you're on the verge of crying.
it's hard to steel yourself when thoma has always been quick to pick up on your emotions and take them to heart. he notices how you struggle to pick up the antiseptic, takes one glance at your face and the way the tears well up, and perhaps that is the most painful of all.
his hands cup your cheeks so gently that you are afraid the tears will spill. how wonderfully loved and safe you feel in his hold.
"please don't cry," thoma reassures you, and you almost think you hear his voice quiver, "please. i'm okay, i really am."
"i'm not." you tell him that, but you are, and now he is, too. you imagine you both look so silly right now, crying and fretting over each other like it's the end of the world. "my allergies are bad."
"oh." thoma laughs through his tears, pinches your cheeks playfully and in meaning of you're okay and so am i. i am grateful. "so are mine."
"we're really bad at lying." you mumble, and he hums in agreement as he kisses your forehead. you place your hands over his, find closure in the idea that he is still with you, here and now. safe.
"thank you for coming back to me." you whisper, and under the stars, thoma presses his lips against yours in need.
❀ ゚. ༄ itto
itto, you've come to notice, gets hurt more often than one would think. a daring warrior that throws himself entirely into battle, caution and safety disregarded in the midst of adrenaline rushes. he comes home to you with wounds littered across his body; the cheeky smile on his face that appears at the sight of you almost makes the ache in your heart abate. almost.
he tends to forget about the pain, he tells you, so it's okay. he notices the way your jaw clenches at the sentence, how your words of protest die instantly. something in your chest tightens as if someone wrapped their hand around your heart and squeezed and squeezed until the words of innocence fell on deaf ears. because there are only so many times you can see the love of your life injured, and you are losing count.
how many times have you replayed this act before? an unending cycle of hurt and healing over and over again, the scenes blurred and turned into one. you remember where each scar came from -- how you did everything to ensure his wellness, and how the injuries faded into scars to serve as a reminder.
your fingers brush over the gash on his temple. he winces, slightly, but maybe his pain is insignificant in comparison to what you're feeling.
"please be more careful." you say after a long silence. he nods solemnly, finds that his usual lighthearted words of comfort will not do in this situation.
itto leans forward.
"kiss it better?"
you laugh for the first time that night, indulge in his request. a gentle kiss pressed against his temple and the feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist. he holds you closely, apologetic in his touch.
❀ ゚. ༄ childe
"i almost think you do this on purpose."
childe grins. you aren't entirely wrong-- but it's not like he tries to get hurt. it's more so that he enjoys the thrill of lethal situations and will jump straight into one for the sake of amusement and the yearning for acknowledgement that he can handle it. that's a bit different, he supposes, but he won't argue.
"i like the attention from you."
"i know you do." comes your flat tone, and you gently tap his chin as if that'll make his grin go away ( surprise: it doesn't ). "have you considered that you could just ask for attention instead of doing...this?"
ah. well, that makes it go away, and now you're faced with a very convincing pout. you sigh; he smiles at your reaction.
he never has the intention of worrying you with small cuts and bruises, not at all. he's completely fine, save for some discomfort and aches here and there, and while he truly does enjoy the attention and care, he's not one to cause you distress on purpose. ( the teasing is fun, though. he can admit that much. )
his expression softens as you inspect the bandage on his arm, fingers sliding down the cloth as a means to make sure it hasn't loosened anywhere. slowly, your hand meets his and he squeezes it tightly in reassurance.
"i'm sorry." his apology is genuine; it always is when this happens. "i'm alright though-- see? nearly at a hundred percent again because of you. couldn't do it without my favorite nurse."
"childe." you poke his forehead with your free hand, but he responds by grabbing it. "if i was your nurse, i would personally fire you."
he's grinning again. how annoying-- is what you want to think, but when he presses kisses against your knuckles, the touch light as a feather but heavy in meaning, you can't help but smile.
--until he talks again.
"you couldn't get rid of me if you tried."
"i know. it's annoying."
his laughter rings in the air, and you admit your defeat when you kiss him.
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vanmarkus · 6 months ago
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EVAN BUCKLEY + close-up 10/?
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sysig · 8 months ago
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Getting up to trouble is his speciality (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Damned#ZEX#The Captain#Mixed set! :D Lots of singular doodles - one-offs or ones that apply to a few different scenes#The kiss is random tho <3 I still haven't gotten to ZEX showing off his uniform to Zelnick! I want them to!!#Him seeing his Captain in his uniform was so lovely tho <3 I love Big Love and that was so <3 Hehe#Smooch ♥#ZEX does not eat enough ;; He eats like a bird and it's highly distressing#I actually wrote in my notes that I was surprised he wasn't hurting In The Same entry as when he was experiencing hunger pangs haha#It doesn't help that he tends to talk through meals rather than eat - he's so much more interested in making connections with humans!#As far as metaphors go - killing himself for the sake of trying to bridge that gap - I mean it's apt but ZEX please#I think it was while he was talking to Wally at one point that he framed the War in a very flippant light-hearted way which was funny to me#I don't think that's the descriptor most people would use haha#Swearing <3 <3 VUX terminology <3 <3#I want a VUX glossary of terms so badly hehe I've been slowly compiling a few here and there :3 Direct translation! The dream ♫#Him getting stressed enough to swear is very endearing haha ♪ What do you mean I'm endeared by everything he does don't be silly#The next one of me deeply enjoying when he's creepy is not proof of anything! Just because I Happen to also like that!!#I do really love when he's creepy tho agh <3 <3 The mental image of him as The Hunter - casually cornering and capturing his prey <3#In that instance he was interrupted pretty quickly but the setup was there!! And it was extremely good!!!#I love how huffy he gets as well haha ''All these humans interrupting my seduction attempts >O( ...Wait O|'' lol#And finally an exchange on the board between him and Scarecrow haha so many fun faces around!!#I love him being completely baffled by a non-mechanical construct it just short-circuits his brain haha ♥#He's so intelligent but there exists things unknowable!#The image of him tapping his pen is so Incredibly cute ah <3 Where did he learn such a thing! Does it translate from his VUX form to this ♪#Anything everything ♥ Learned or known! It's wonderful
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ningningkittie · 8 months ago
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...
#idk i just feel so scared????? men are soooo terrifying#like i can think a guy is normal then the more i learn pfc he gets off to rape!!!#like it really feels like all men love rape and idk it's just so...#even if they use the excuse of only fantasizing abt it .. theyre fantasizing abt raping someone (mostly raping women lol)#if they watch a show and a horrific rape scene comes on they get turned on. bc they like the idea of raping a woman. they like rape itself#if i watch a scene like that i get distressed nd heartbroken nd sad bc *i* see the humanity of the woman nd the extreme pain nd suffering#she's being caused. i dont get turned on???? i feel sad and feel empathy for her#but men dont feel empathy for pieces of meat that much is clear#idk its just so sick and vile that they see a woman being caused extreme pain and they like it#they get turned on??? wtf is wrong w them how can u even do that??#and im supposed to.... be in a relationship w a man??? who doesnt view me as a human who gets off on hurting nd abusing women.....#like even him i love said that he got off on the idea of me being asleep nd not being able to consent skksksks#how do u think like that abt someone u supposedly love????? if i love a woman i'd never think abt hurting her or seeing her in distress????#and if you're w a guy who openly admits to jacking off to raping you how do u know that he wont actually do it?#if hes in a situation w you nd he has the opportunity means nd motivation nd he knows u wouldnt say anything.. why would he not rape u???#idk men are so fkn terrifying i dont rlly wanna be anywhere near any man like theyre so sick#rape is heinous. and clearly men dont care bc theyre always the rapists so why would they care abt the fear of being raped#no idk. even if i love a man sm it hurts i dont think its safe or smart to be with one. they'll always rape or abuse or hurt u
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acerikus · 19 days ago
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haha Flowey and Siffrin parallels haha haha
Rotating them both around my brain forever and ever and ever
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jimingyue · 11 months ago
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Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator
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🖋️ meowful-musings Follow
🕊️ birdwatching Follow
what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine
💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204
op wheres the natural feeding option
🌲 outdoorsy Follow
you guys are getting fed?
#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look
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☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!
☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3
🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow
as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3
#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....
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🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right
❤️ loving-paws284 Follow
um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...
🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow
OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD
🐟 tunafeesh Follow
also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly
🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks
anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse
#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now
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🍃 naturalliving Follow
BORN TO DIE
WORLD IS A FUCK
猫神 Kill Em All 1989
I am trash cat
410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS
#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly
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🎣 salmonpurina Follow
can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther
#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks
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💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!
🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow
evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever
💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
make your own pawst
💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721
umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...
👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow
Nyaverage shelter cat behavior
#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up
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🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo
💡 discourse-meows Follow
hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks
🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
1. i was making. a joak
2. i'm literally gay???
#literally what's your pawblem
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🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
i know you fuckers are lying
🍭 gaykittens Follow
this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
shut the heull up
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🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise
🐁 ladymouser Follow
op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control
🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us
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teaboot · 2 months ago
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I've never had a cat before and I'm hoping to get one soon. Do you have any advice?
Treat a new cat as you would a new roommate. Give them space and time to settle, establish a pattern and a rhythm, and in time they may choose to become friends and spend time with you. Dont force a friendship.
Use simple words and repetition to establish communication. Words like breakfast, treat, snack, lunch, supper, dinner, food, and eat all basically mean, "I am feeding you; expect to be fed", but it's a lot for a little guy to remember. I just say "Dinner" when I mean "cat food is coming", and so my boy knows exactly what I mean when I say it. As a plus, using only one word for snack time means he has no idea what the other words mean, so I can talk about food in front of him without ruling him up.
Pay attention to body language. Cats all have different personalities, and you'll learn their likes, dislikes, and messages over time this way. Son boy here loves anything with plumbing but dislikes getting wet- his favourite blanket to chew and snuggle goes on his favourite chair, and he gives me a specific gesture when he wants me to kneel down so he can jump onto my shoulder.
Read into problematic behaviour. Cats pee in weird places when they're hurting, in distress, or have insufficient of unclean litter box space. Biting, attacking feet , and knocking things off tables often means they're understimulated and need you to play with them, or at least need some kind of enrichment or puzzle to tackle. Tail flicking can be frustration or irritation. Purring is usually good, but may also be self-soothing behaviour to alleviate pain, encourage healing, and relieve anxiety, like over-grooming.
Like children, "bad" behaviour isn't malicious- it usually means there's something you aren't seeing.
Learn how your cat expresses love. Loads of people think cats are uncaring, cruel, and indifferent, but the truth is, they're just not dogs. Spending time near you, showing an interest in tools you're using or projects you're working on, sitting the way you sit, laying on their back, rubbing on your legs, wiping their face on your shoes when you get home- these are signs that your cat is enamored with you. You're their family, they feel safe and protected around you, they're curious about things you enjoy and want everyone to know you're family.
Set reasonable expectations. Again, cats are not dogs.We bred dogs to desire our approval- cats walked into our lives themselves. They have no human-programmed need to fulfill a duty or perform a task to your standards.
Training cats to do tricks isn't as hard as people say, but the willingness or interest in doing the trick is more heavily reliant on personality and mood. Some cats will refuse all but the most basic requests- I'm lucky in that Ollie understands and is willing to do several, provided I don't abuse his trust and he's not crowded or overwhelmed or just bored of doing it over and over in a short period.
Ollie, for example, knows Up to stand on his back legs and hold my hand, Down to get to a surface I indicate, Out to emerge from a closed space, Come to find me where I am, Help? when I'm offering to let him use me as an elevator, Dinner when I understand he's hungry and am getting food, and when I put on his collar he knows to climb into his carrier 'cause we're going somewhere. And he'll do any of these about 90% of the time, either ignoring me or phoning it in when there's something interesting somewhere else, or if he's feeling anxious.
Lead by example. If you dread taking them to the vet, they'll see the anxiety in your body language and behaviour and likely learn to hate it, too. Again using my guy an example, I starred taking him on walks long before his first vet appointment, just to get used to his carrier and leash. Then his first checkup was relaxed and informal, with plenty of treats, and I let him explore the examination room with permission from the tech. Now he loves going, so I'm not stressed about taking him, so I don't stress him out in turn, and the vest doesn't have to deal with a stressed out cat slowing things down and fighting with them.
Make sure your sources are good ones, and also good ones for you. I will recommend Jackson Galaxy's YouTube channel for cat advice because a lot of what he does matches up with what I've learned and know to be true. I don't personally recommend Ceasar Milan because I personally find his methods distressing to recreate regardless of efficacy, so even if that advice was useful, *I'd* be miserable, and it'd just be trading one issue for another.
Have a person who can help. You never know when you might end up out of town overnight unexpectedly, or when your place may need serviced or fumigated, or if you may be called out of town. Before getting a cat, research reliable pet sitters, house sitters, pet daycares, whatever, just in case.
Consider pet insurance. No long spiel here, just think about it. Especially if you don't know your cats ancestry or potenyial health risks. An on top of that, fucking vaccinate them.
Dont let them free roam. At all.
I grew up on a farm with free-roaming barn cats. Do you know how many times child-me cried over having to bury them? Illness, disease, pregnancy, vehicles, other territorial cats, ticks, fleas, litter, poisoned prey, malicious humans, local wildlife, predatory birds, scrap metal, extreme heat, freezing temperatures, tainted water sources, poisonous or venomous critters, getting stuck in small or high places, tapeworms, loose nails, old equipment, falling branches...
I've seen some truly body-horror slasher-movie shit- just truly nauseating visual fuckery- and I'm telling you not to let your cat free-roam.
Leash training isn't hard. Supervised walks aren't hard. Even keeping your cat physically fit and entertained indoors isn't an impossible feat. Don't let your fucking cat fucking free-roam. Fuck
Also read up on foods and plants cats can't do, like every houseplant in existence is toxic it's insane
Anyhow yeah that's like. A couple things I guess
Here, have an Ollie Pic
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soaps-mohawk · 2 months ago
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 36: To The Sea
Summary: It's time to move on. You're not sure where you're going exactly, but anywhere is better than Texas
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 7,816 words
Warnings: ANGST, injuries, medical stuff, descriptions of pain and injuries, brief discussion about strangulation, mentions of PTSD and nightmares, so much crying, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, a very little sprinkle of comfort, language, mentions of medications, still very heavy emotionally
A/N: Not actually a lot of warnings for this one. It's a lot of dialogue and inner monologues. Not a lot happens, just mostly setting the scene for the next chunk of the story. Bring tissues though, the last part of the chapter emotionally wrecked me but also might be the best thing I've ever written.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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It’s warm outside. 
Not even the shade from the building can completely shield you from the dome of heat that seems to surround the base. It seeps into the concrete and asphalt that lock it into place, trapping everyone in a bubble that may as well be an oven. It’s always hot in Texas, though. You hate it. You’ve been spoiled by the cold, rainy seasons in England. You’d gladly take that over Texas. 
You’d take anything over Texas. 
The heat prickles at your skin, your arm starting to get sweaty in the sling. It had been Dr. Keller’s idea to keep your shoulder as still as possible so you don’t continue to cause yourself pain when you move. It still hurts, but at least you won’t instinctively try to use your left arm now.
Despite the warmth, there’s still a chill deep in your bones. The warmth of the pain medicine has worn off and you’ve been left with the perpetual ice that has seemed to coat your insides. Dr. Keller says it's the stress giving you a fever. Every nightmare, every flashback sends your body temperature spiking, your heart beating right out of your chest. You’re not out of the woods yet. It can take a long time to recover from that level of distress and the omega taking over. You almost regret it, but there was no guarantee you would have lived either way at that time. You did what you had to do, and it did work out in the end. 
But at what cost? 
Dr. Keller’s phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out, staring down at the screen for a moment. “Kyle wants to come by.” 
You don’t want to see him. You don’t want to see any of them. 
“I think you should see him. Even if it’s just for a moment.” She squeezes your hand. “I’ll be right here.” 
It’s a predicament. Dr. Keller supports your decision to keep them away, putting some distance between all of you for the time being. Yet, she also says being close to your pack will help your healing. Having your pack around will help your omega settle once again. She needs that safety, that security before she finally lets go completely. 
You don’t want to be close to them, but you may not have any other choice. 
You sit there in silence, picking at the fabric of your sweatpants as you wait for Kyle’s arrival. Sweat has started to bead on your back, the day only getting warmer and warmer as the sun moves higher in the sky. You want to go back inside, back into the cool air conditioned building. You want to crawl back onto the hospital bed and lay there for the next few hours. 
You can’t. 
Footsteps approach, but you don’t look up. You know who it is. You don’t want to see him. 
“Kyle.” Dr. Keller greets. 
“Christine.” He says back. It still throws you off, hearing Dr. Keller's first name. She'll always be Dr. Keller to you. Kyle turns his attention to you, still standing a few steps from the bench you're perched on. “Hi, love.” He says. The affectionate nickname almost makes you wince. You don't look up at him. You don’t want to see his face. “I wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing.” 
You don't move, don't give an answer. You don't have an answer to give anyway. You shouldn't have to give an answer. 
He lowers himself onto the bench, sitting as far away from you as he can. “It’s hot today.” He says, adjusting his hat. Always wearing a hat. Maybe that's why he and Price work so well together. 
He stares at you for a long moment but you don't bother moving, your gaze still on your sweatpants. They're starting to get a bit warm, even with your perpetual chill. 
“I’m not here to apologize.” He says, breaking the silence. “You’ve probably heard enough apologies to last you a lifetime.” He shakes his head. “Words can’t fix what we did. Nothing can fix what we did, how we left you there. All we can do is give you what you need, try and make you as comfortable as possible.” 
Tears burn your eyes as you listen to him. He's not wrong, an apology won't fix what happened. No words will ever be able to fix what they put you through. You're not sure there's anything they could do that would make up for it. An apology still would have been nice, despite the fact you know how guilty he is. Their avoidance of you, their willingness to give you such space in an unknown place just proves how guilty they all are. 
That doesn't make things hurt any less. 
You slowly turn away from Kyle, angling yourself towards Dr. Keller. 
He doesn't say anything further in that regard, taking your movement as an answer to his non-apology. He leans forward instead, resting his elbows on his knees. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re getting ready to leave soon. We’ll be heading somewhere safe, somewhere quiet and secluded. I think you’ll like it.” 
Dr. Keller had informed you of that earlier after she went to speak to them. They've decided what to do, what's best for the pack again. You might have protested, except for the fact it meant you were getting to leave Texas. Where exactly they're taking you, you're not sure. You just know it's not Texas. 
“I want you to know that we’re here if you need us.” He stares at you for a moment longer before pushing himself up to stand. 
If, not when. 
Maybe they're finally getting the message. 
Dr. Keller stands, touching your right shoulder gently before she steps away with Kyle, speaking quietly with him, but you can still hear every word in the nearly silent space around you. 
“In an attempt to remain a neutral, professional party in this situation, I feel it would be appropriate for me to tell you not to beat yourself up too much about this.” Dr. Keller says. “The unprofessional side of me has many words I’d like to say to all of you.” She clears her throat. “That being said, on a positive note I can say you’re all doing the right thing for once, prioritizing your omega and fulfilling her needs, even if her needs require you to leave her alone for now. I know it’s hard, I know every instinct is screaming at you to help her, but just take comfort in knowing you are helping her. You’re doing the best thing you can do for her at this time.” Dr. Keller puts a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently. “Even if it is tearing you up inside.” 
“Thanks, Doc.” He says. 
“I’ll see you soon.” She says, patting his arm before she heads back towards your bench. 
You turn your head just slightly, not missing the way Gaz lingers for a brief moment before he turns his back on you, walking back down the sidewalk. 
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It hurts. 
You want to cry with every swallow. No matter how much you chew, it doesn’t ease the pain of trying to swallow solid food. Even the worst sore throat you’ve ever had pales in comparison to this pain. Tears burn in your eyes as you eat, unable to refuse this time in favor of choking down some liquid nutrients. Even liquids make your throat ache, but they are easy to chug to get it over with at once. 
This feels like torture. 
Dr. Keller looks guilty as she spoon-feeds you the soup. Chicken noodle, something simple and easy but still something with some substance. It makes you think back to when you were sick as a child, your mother dutifully feeding you homemade chicken noodle soup until you reached the age you could feed yourself. 
You do feel like a child again, unable to even hold the spoon. Well, you could hold it, but it would have come at the expense of some burns from how badly your hand was shaking. 
So instead you sit here, being spoon-fed soup you can barely stand eating. 
“I know.” She says as a tear finally falls, your inhale shaky from the ache in your throat. “You need something in your system for the sedative. It’s a long flight and you’ll be sick when you wake up if you don’t have anything in your stomach. That’s going to hurt a lot worse than eating now.” 
Yeah. You’ve already figured that out. 
“Strangulation is a tough thing to survive.” She says, dragging the bottom of the spoon against the edge of the bowl to wipe off any soup that might drip on you. “Then again, so is getting shot, and distressing to the point of your omega taking over.” She holds the spoon up to your lips, and you’re tempted to refuse. “You’ve survived a lot, more than most could. And to look this good after...” 
You blink up at her, teary eyed and sickly looking, exhausted and bruised. Your left eye is still almost swollen shut, and your hair is tangled perhaps beyond saving, tied up in a bun at the top of your head. All just reminders of what you survived, all reminders of what happened to you. Of what was allowed to happen to you. 
You’re not quite sure when the last time you had a real shower was either. 
“I know.” She says, spooning more soup into your mouth. “You might not feel like it, right now.” 
“I want a shower.” You say, your voice still hoarse and cracking through your throat. A real shower might solve a lot of problems for you right now. It won’t fix much, but being truly clean would make a lot of things feel better. 
“I wholeheartedly agree.” Dr. Keller says. 
You give her a look. You don't smell that bad. She should know, she’s the one that cleaned the blood off of you and the one who gave you the sponge bath this morning. 
She gives you a look back. “I meant it would be nice to take a real shower. Once we get where we’re going, we can work on the logistics of a shower.” 
Right. You can’t exactly stand for a long time on your own, not to mention the problem of only being able to use one arm without bringing blinding pain upon yourself. That’s where the pack would come in handy. 
The thought of one of them seeing you vulnerable like that, putting their hands on you right now makes your skin crawl. 
A shiver runs down your spine, your body shuddering uncontrollably. You grunt as your shoulder screams in pain, another electric jolt burning straight through your nerves and down through your feet. Fuck. You mouth the word, squeezing your eyes shut. It makes your stomach churn, the soup starting to burn a path back up through your esophagus.
“Breathe for me.” Dr. Keller says, putting a gentle hand on your right shoulder. 
In and out. You focus on your breath, the only thing you can do without feeling like you’re going to go insane from the pain. It’s all you can do in this situation. It’s the only thing you can do at all. Breathe. Just keep breathing. 
Sometimes you don’t want to. 
The pain passes as it always does, leaving behind a subtle ache that will linger until the next flare of pain. It’s a constant, never-ending cycle that you can’t escape from. Weeks, Dr. Keller had said. It can take weeks to heal. You’ll be stuck in this cycle for weeks and weeks. What if it never heals? That is a possibility. It’s always a risk with any injury. 
What if the rest of your life is like this? 
You’re crying again, hot tears blazing a path down your cheeks. They won’t stop, they never stop. There’s a constant stream down your face, even in your sleep. You’ve woken to find your face and neck damp from the never ceasing flood of tears. 
How you can’t wait for the time to come when you have none left.
You’d welcome the numbness at this point, greet it like an old friend and invite it in for tea. Anything over the pain and tears that won’t stop. The depression-fueled numbness that had filled you when Price and Gaz left, then Soap and Ghost would be a welcome relief at this point. Anything would be better than the pain. 
You almost wish you were in a coma right now. Then you wouldn’t feel anything at all. 
Dr. Keller puts the spoon back into the soup bowl before rolling the table to the side. She puts a hand on your head, gently stroking your hair as you cry. The room is silent aside from your sniffles, Dr. Keller not having to say a single word. The silence is almost a blessing. You’re tired of hearing words, of hearing people speak. There’s nothing anyone can say that will do anything to help you, to comfort you, to make it better. 
There’s nothing anyone can do to make it better. 
You’re so tired of being like this. 
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The sedative is kicking in before you even reach the airfield. She can see the way your head is drooping further and further forward in the car, your body jostling without any complaint. It had started kicking in before you even got into the car, as you offered very little resistance when Kyle helped her mauver you into the front seat. She chose Kyle out of everyone to help her in hopes it would be easiest on you. Your claimed alpha’s beta is a good place to start in rebuilding the bonds within the pack, and his calm demeanor certainly helps. He is a caretaker through and through, that beta trait prominent above the others in him. He would have made a good medic, had he gone that route. 
Your chin drops to your chest as the car comes to a stop in front of the plane, your body slumping to the side against the door. 
“She’s out.” Christine says, unbuckling her seatbelt. 
“Makes this easier.” Kyle says, getting out of the car. 
They maneuver you into the wheelchair, Christine easing your head onto your right shoulder to avoid aggravating the left. The less pain you’re in when you come out of it, the better, though pain will be unavoidable. Kyle pushes the wheelchair up the ramp of the plane, Christine following close behind. She’s glad she gave you the sedative before you left the med center to avoid as much pain as possible. She almost wishes she had given it to you earlier, as getting you into a sweatshirt had been a battle of its own. Though, the longer it stays in your system, the longer you’ll sleep through the flight. The longer you sleep through the flight, the longer they can delay the inevitable emotional storm of being enclosed in a tight space with your pack. 
If you’re lucky, you’ll be out of it long enough for them to reach the cottage without incident. 
John is waiting near the front of the aircraft, his eyes watching carefully as Kyle helps maneuver you into a seat. Even with the turmoil in the pack bonds, an alpha will always feel protective over their omega. There’s some things that can’t be undone, even in such a fragile state. Some instincts can’t be unlearned, no matter what. 
“I gave her a sedative.” Christine explains as she gets you as comfortable as possible in the seat. “It won’t last the whole flight, but it’ll take a while to wear off regardless.” 
“Is that more for her or for us?” John asks. 
“Both.” Christine says. “Mostly for her. It helps with the pain of moving around, but it will also keep her calm in close quarters like this.” 
“Here.” John says, handing her something. It’s a blanket, brand new by the feel of it. “Johnny made a store run this morning. It’s going to get cold in here, so he got the warmest one he could find.” 
Christine takes the blanket, the fabric thick and soft in her hands. It’s a touching gesture, speaking volumes of their desire to still care for you despite everything, their willingness to do what they have to, to keep the pack together. “Perfect.” She says, carefully draping it over you and tucking it around you before John gets you secured in the seat. 
“It’s going to be a long flight.” John says, taking a step back. 
“It is.” Christine says, pulling out her thermometer. She takes your temperature, letting out a hum at the number that pops up on screen. “I need to monitor her temperature.” She explains as John gives her a look. “It’s been spiking when she gets stressed.” 
“She's not quite out of it yet, is she?” John asks.
“Not quite.” She says, putting the thermometer back in her bag. “I’ve only seen two omegas successfully come back from that point, and I know the number across the board isn’t very high. It takes a long time for the body and the brain to get back to normal.” 
“And on top of everything that happened...” 
She stares up at him for a long moment. “She’s very strong. I knew she was a fighter, but to come out the other side even where she is now...” Christine shakes her head. “I didn’t want to say this at the time, but I was expecting the worst. When that call came in about what state she was in...” She bites her lip, holding the emotions back. “Her resilience and fortitude is what kept her alive. That and Simon’s courage to do what needed to be done.” 
“I know.” John says, looking past her. “We all owe a lot to him.” 
Christine puts a gentle hand on his arm. “You’re doing what’s best for her. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much it goes against every instinct you have, it’s what she needs.” 
“That’s all that matters to us right now.” John says, staring down at her hand for a moment. “There’s nothing else we can do, so it’s time we start putting our priorities where they should have been the whole time.” 
Christine gives him a small smile. “I’m proud of you for that. It takes a lot to unlearn the things you’ve been told since the beginning.” 
The corner of John’s lips twitch before his face falls into the emotionless mask he’s been wearing for the last few days. “It’s about time we get our heads out of our arses.” 
“I can’t blame you totally.” She shrugs. “We were all just doing what the initiative was telling us to do. We couldn’t have known. There wasn’t any room to question it.” 
“I wish we would have figured it out sooner.” He sighs. 
“Things might have been worse if the truth did come out sooner. If you started digging into the initiative too soon, Shepherd might have gotten antsy and taken more drastic measures to stop the truth from coming out entirely.” She glances down at you. “I think this was all inevitable.” She turns her gaze back to John. “What happened, happened. None of us can change that. All we can do is keep moving forward with what we have right now.” 
He stares at her for a long moment. “The more time passes, the more I’ve come to realize why Kate chose you for this position.” 
The corner of her lips turns up in a smile. “Well, I am rather good at my job, which, among other things, involves advocating on behalf of omegas.” 
John huffs. “Wish we would have listened sooner.” 
“You can’t change the past.” She repeats, looking down at you again. “But you can change the future.” 
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You woke from your sedation about four hours from Helston. 
Well, ’woke’ might have been too strong of a word for it. Your eyes opened, but you were still hazy, movements sluggish and entirely unaware of the world around you. You floated between sleep and awareness for an hour before finally gaining consciousness completely. Awareness took quite a while to return, though. Not until they were moving you to the car from the plane. 
Even still you’re groggy, slumped against the door in the back seat of the car. You blink slowly, eyes unfocused as you stare out the window at the blur of green passing by. 
“How is she?” John asks from the driver's seat, glancing up at the rearview mirror. 
“Cow.” You say, blinking slowly as the car passes a field of cows. 
“Still out of it.” Christine answers from the back seat where she's sitting next to you. Your response might have been enough to answer that. “Better than being in pain, though.” 
“How long will it take for her to get out of it?” Kyle asks. 
“Hopefully she’ll be more lucid by the time we get there, but it could take a few hours for it to completely wear off.” Christine says, wiping a bit of drool from your chin. “Probably not a bad thing. This is a big change, and with everything that’s happened, it’s going to take some time to settle in.” 
“Things are going to be rough.” Kyle says. 
“Yes.” She agrees. “Being enclosed in a small space with the people you want to see the least in the world isn’t an ideal situation. It’ll be an adjustment for everyone. I trust all of your abilities to adapt, though. Just don't go in expecting things to be the way they were.”
John's hands tighten around the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. Kyle cracks his window open, prepared for the thickening of John's scent in the air. Christine knows she hit a nerve, but it needed to be said. Even if you were open to forgiveness right now, even if they had chosen to go after you right away, things still wouldn't be the same. Things won't ever be the same. It is their fault deep at the root of it. Those cameras were put up because of them, you were taken because of them. You were chosen for the “initiative” because of them, because Kate thought you'd fit in well with them. Their decisions shaped your life, and will continue to shape your life. 
Can you ever come to forgive them? Christine likes to think so. She has the hope that they can put in the work and regain your trust and earn eventual forgiveness. She knows you'll allow them to try once the initial hurt and emotions begin to fade, once the two of you put in enough work to start processing the trauma around the events that happened. It will take time. Probably a long time. 
She'll be there every step of the way. 
“Ashley did some shopping for us, picked up some stuff to get us until we can get into town.” Kyle says, looking at his phone. 
“Good.” John says, his shoulders starting to relax. “Should wait a couple days before going. Get settled in.”
“She's still working on cleaning up. Probably still be there when we get there.” Kyle says, putting his phone back in his pocket. 
“That's fine. We’ll probably have to utilize her a bit.” 
“Doubt she'll complain.” Kyle says, looking out the window. “Be thrilled to have something to do besides work.” 
You let out a quiet groan, shifting against the door. “Hurts.” 
“I know, honey.” Christine says, carefully adjusting your left arm. “I’ll give you more pain meds once we get to the cottage.” 
“We’ll be there in half an hour.” John says, glancing up at the rearview mirror again before turning his eyes back to the road. 
The half hour seems to take the longest as you continue to become more and more lucid and aware. The pain sets in first, your brain picking up on those signals before anything else. John’s knuckles are white around the steering wheel as you begin to whine and whimper around every bend in the road and turn he has to make, every jostle of the car. Every instinct in his body tells him to pull over and comfort you, but he can’t. It’s more important to get to the cottage, and there’s no guarantee you’d even let him. It might make things worse. 
The last thing you need right now is for things to get worse. 
Christine breathes a sigh of relief as they pull up to the cottage, glad she can finally get you somewhere more comfortable. You’ve been in far too many uncomfortable positions today, moved around too much. She would have liked to keep you in Texas a couple more days, but she knew as soon as you were able to travel, the better. The sooner they could get off the grid, the better. 
The sooner they could get out of Texas, the better. 
Kyle is getting the wheelchair out of the trunk when Johnny and Simon pull up, not having been far behind. They likely took a turn around the back roads to ensure no one was following and to keep things from looking too suspicious. 
Christine keeps you from slumping out of the car as she carefully opens the door on your side. You’re more awake than you were, blinking up at her with almost startlingly aware eyes.
“Crutch.” You pout when she pulls the wheelchair closer. 
She gives you a look. “Honey I'm not sure you could even stand right now.” You may be more aware, but that doesn’t mean your body is working as it should.
You let out a defiant noise as you attempt to get your legs out of the car, trying to hide your grunts of pain and discomfort. 
She's tempted to stand there and let you try, but she knows all hell will break loose if she lets you fall. She's not willing to take that risk, not to mention it will cause you more pain to get you up off the ground. 
“Come on,” She says, stopping you before you can get your feet under you. “Nice and slow.” 
You let out a quiet growl of indignation but you allow her to help you, your legs trembling as she eases you up. Kyle is there with the wheelchair, getting it as close to you as possible so she can sit you down quickly. 
“Ow.” You breathe, eyes pinched closed as you breathe through the pain. 
“I know.” She says, patting your good shoulder lightly. She's glad she put you in the sweatshirt before you left Texas. It's chilly outside, chillier than it was further inland a few days ago. 
It's hard to believe it's only been a few days since you were taken. Barely even a week. So much happened in such a short period of time. It feels like it’s been weeks since everything started, but then again, it had been weeks since John and Kyle first left. It had been weeks since you had been around your whole pack together by the time you were taken. The deep depression you sunk into before the events of the last week had been draining you slowly for weeks before this. It had started before John and Kyle were deployed, back to that day when you revealed the cameras and the secret you had been hiding from them. 
How long you’ve gone in such turmoil. 
How far you still have to go. 
The path up to the door is rocky and uneven, the wheelchair jostling as she pushes it up towards the door. She can picture your face, the way it has to be screwed up in pain. You're silent though, holding it all in. She almost wishes you weren't being silent about it. 
The door is already open, light shining from inside as she approaches. Kyle is in the house already, having gone ahead to greet his sister. John is right behind the two of you as Christine turns to wheel you up the steps into the house. His eyes are on you, focused and ready should you fall.  
Christine would never let you fall, and from the way your hand is gripping the arm of the chair for dear life, you probably couldn't anyway. 
She wheels you through the entryway, the inside warmer thanks to a fire that's burning. It's a nice cottage, far nicer than she had been expecting judging from the outside. 
Johnny lets out a low whistle as he enters behind John, looking around. “Yer parents own this?” 
“It was given to our mum by our grandparents. They did some...renovations before they passed it on.” Kyle says. 
“Yer tellin’ me.” Johnny says. 
It looks new inside. New wood floors, freshly painted walls. The furniture looks like she would expect to find in an English seaside cottage, though. Kyle’s parents went to France for summer vacation instead of utilizing the cottage, and none of his siblings had wanted to use it, he told them. It looks almost perfect, like it came right out of a home renovation show. Kyle’s sister must have worked some sort of magic to get it this clean. 
It is a very nice cottage. It’s small, the door opening right to the main area. There’s two couches and a chair in the middle of the room around a coffee table. To the left of the couches is a fireplace, the fire already lit and crackling. It looks original, likely having been untouched in the renovations. There’s a door to the left of the fireplace closer to the main entryway. A bedroom maybe? To the right of the front door are two doors, one on the far wall and one facing the front door. 
The stairs are in the middle of the house, leading up to the second floor where there’s likely more bedrooms. On the far side of the main area is the dining area and beyond that is a sliding glass door. Around the corner on the far side of the stairs is likely the kitchen. She can see the fridge from where she’s standing. It’s new. Very new. Makes her wonder just how long ago it had been renovated. 
“Everyone, this is my sister Ashley.” Kyle says, introducing the other woman in the room. 
“Hello,” she says, giving everyone a wave and a dazzling smile. 
She’s dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt, her medium box braids pulled up into a bun on top of her head. They look a lot alike, her and Kyle. Tall and slender and stunning. They have the same smile and the same soft brown eyes. She's wearing scent blockers, but Christine can imagine her having a soft scent like lavender or something fresh like mint. 
“There's two rooms down here, and two upstairs.” Kyle says. “The main bedroom is through there.” He points towards a door to their left. “I figure we'll give that to our omega. The bathroom in there has a walk-in shower.” 
“Perfect.” Christine says. That will make getting you in and out of the shower easier at least, and you won’t have to go far to use the bathroom.
“You should take the other room down here.” John says, looking at Christine. “So you can be close in case of an emergency.”
And so you don't have to be too close to them, so you won’t feel like they’re hovering.
He doesn't have to say that part out loud. 
“I put new sheets on all the beds.” Ashley says. “I also picked up everything Kyle sent on the list. Food, some clothes, some other necessities.”
You let out a quiet groan, Christine patting your head gently. You have to be exhausted and sore after the day. She should give you another dose of pain medicine like she said she would. You’re going to need it tonight. 
“Let's get you laying down for a bit.” She says, wheeling you towards the door. 
Kyle opens it for her, revealing a spacious room with a big window looking out towards the sea. You're going to spend a lot of time in front of that window, she thinks. The bed is in the middle of the room, and there’s two chairs facing the window. She’s almost tempted to sit you in one of the chairs, but laying down will be more comfortable for you right now. 
You're still too out of it now to care much as she wheels you to the double bed. With Kyle's help they get you horizontal, Christine draping the blanket at the end of the bed over you. It’s not very soft, but it will do for now. She’ll have to get the guys to pick up some soft blankets for you when they go to town. She has a whole list of things starting in her head she needs them to pick up.
She leans your crutch against the end of the bed just in case you might need it for an emergency. She hopes you’ll yell first, but you always have been stubborn. Being mostly bed-bound has only made that worse. 
“I’m going to go look through the things Ashley picked up.” She says, patting your leg gently. “Get some rest.” 
Christine leaves the door open a crack as she exits, wanting to give you a little privacy as you nap, or at least she hopes you’ll nap. It’s going to be a rough adjustment, and you’re going to need as much rest as you can get. 
“I’m assuming you’re Christine.” Ashley says, walking up to her. 
“I am.” She says, giving Ashley a smile. 
She can’t help but get lost in Ashley’s soft gaze for a moment. The Garrick siblings seem to share the same magnetic energy. There’s something almost ethereal about them. She could easily imagine them with glowing halos and angel wings. It’s almost like she’s being blessed with the opportunity to look upon her. She could spend an hour staring at Ashley’s face and not grow tired of looking at her.
“I picked up the items Kyle said you needed.” She says, motioning to the bags on the coffee table, pulling Christine out of her daze. “I couldn’t find the exact nutrient powder you asked for, so I got one that was as close as I could find.” 
Christine glances through the bags. She was thorough, getting at least two of everything. 
“I got warmer clothes for her too, since it can get chilly out here this time of year. Just some simple things for now until you guys get into town.” Ashley says. “I did some research too and I read that omegas like comforting things so I picked up some extra blankets and pillows” Ashley says, motioning to a couple bags sitting on the couch. “I also picked up this,” She pulls a stuffed dog from one of the bags, holding it up. “It was the softest one I could find. I thought it might help.” 
A small smile forms on Christine’s face, her heart fluttering in her chest from the sweet, thoughtful gesture. Ashley doesn’t even know you, nor did she know exactly what happened to you, and yet she went so far as to pick up some comfort items for you. You have nothing right now, only the borrowed clothes on your back. All of your belongings are still on base, all of the things that you had built to make your perfect nest. Would you want any of them still? Or have they been tainted by the events of the last few weeks? 
That Ashley thought to do this has warmth flooding Christine’s body. You can have some comfort now without having to wait for their trip to town. She almost feels the urge to cry. She wants to hug Ashley, thank her over and over for her kindness. Ashley has no idea how much her small act of kindness means, how much it's going to mean. 
A smile forms on Christine’s face as she stares at the stuffed dog. “It’s perfect.” 
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You can hear it. 
In the distance, the quiet roar reaches your ears as you’re dragged from the sweet arms of sleep. It must be a dream, or perhaps the sedative is still clinging to your mind, making you imagine things. 
No. 
You’d know that sound anywhere. 
The effort to push yourself up to sit is a momentous one, every cell in your body protesting after a day of being moved and jostled. The last thing you want is to move right now, but you have to. 
The pain meds have done little to help.
The crutch at the end of your bed must be a thousand miles away as you sit there and stare at it. The ache in your body only increases as you become more and more aware of the pain, almost as if it can tell what it is your mind is planning. 
The door is cracked open, letting in a slit of light from outside. It’s dark in the room, the curtains pulled over the window. It’s a blessing compared to the bright yellow light outside the door. You welcome the darkness as your head begins to throb. You could call for assistance. You’d get more help than you needed. More help than you want. 
No. 
You need to do this. 
The effort it takes to get standing nearly sends you back onto the bed. The pain nearly blinds you as your feet touch the floor, your body leaning against the side of the mattress out of desperation. If you fall, you’ll never be alone again. You can’t afford that. You don’t want that. 
If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 
The breaths out of your nose are short and sharp as you reach for the crutch, fingers trembling in the effort to fight the pain threatening to blind you. You’re trembling like a leaf in a storm as your fingers finally wrap around the cool metal. The rubber bottom drags across the floor as you tug it over to you, holding it against your chest for a moment. 
Breathe. That’s what you need to do. Breathe. 
In and out. 
Nice and slow. 
The pain is only a memory. The pain is nothing. The memories forming at the edges of your mind will take over and wipe out the pain and the misery. You just have to be sure. You just have to be certain.
You push yourself upright using the crutch, tucking it under your arm. You should go back to bed. You should rest. 
No. 
You need to know. 
You need to be certain.
The first step you take nearly makes you sick. 
It’s like watching a baby deer walk for the first time, knees wobbling, feet shaking. You lean heavily on the crutch, your determination the only thing keeping you from tumbling to the floor in a heap. That might almost hurt worse than forcing yourself to stand upright. 
If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 
Inch by inch you move across the floor, silently grateful for the socks on your feet. They allow you to slide across the hardwood, but they also pose a threat. Slide too far and you’ll lose your feet. 
If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 
The determination and your desire for certainty is what keeps you sliding inch by inch across the floor towards that strip of blinding light in front of you. It’s hovering before you, threatening you. How do you know there’s not one of them standing guard, waiting for you to try and leave? You can’t know. You don’t have a clue what’s waiting on the other side of that door. It could be nothing. It could be your entire pack. 
Breathe. 
In and out. 
You take a moment at the door, resting your aching feet. Your body is throbbing from the effort to keep yourself upright, the sedative still numbing your brain and your movements. It’s like treading through honey, everything twice as hard as it should be. You can walk. You’ve done it before. You did it in the medical center. 
You can do it here. 
You use the crutch to push the door open more, your free arm still tucked in a sling to keep you from moving it. Reaching for it with that arm would have put you on the floor, would have caused more pain than you needed, would have made you fall. 
If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 
Breathe. 
The light burns. Explosions of yellows and whites erupt behind your eyelids as you screw them tight against the sudden onslaught. The sun is in the room, shining its rays directly into your sensitive eyes. Your stomach churns, your fingers tightening around the crutch so tight your knuckles begin to ache. The oppressive light makes you want to recede back into the darkness of the room behind you like a vampire shying away from the light of day. 
No. 
You won’t be defeated by the harsh artificial lighting. You need to know. 
You need to be certain.
The others are moving around. You can hear voices around the corner, voices upstairs with thudding footsteps. The air is thick with a mesh of scents, cleaning chemicals, and the burn of scent blocker. Your nose wrinkles at the sudden onslaught against your senses, your sedated brain making it all seem so much worse. 
You need to know. 
The hardwood floors continue and you use them to your advantage as you shuffle your way across the main area. The fire crackles as you pass, the popping of a log making you startle. Your feet slide again, your body pushing up against the crutch to hold yourself steady. 
If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 
Your target is dead ahead, a mile away but so close you can almost taste it. Just past the dining table and straight on till morning. 
Despite your snail’s pace, no one seems to notice you shuffling your way across the house. It should make you upset, the fact that none of them notice you moving around, but instead it makes you glad. They’d try to stop you if they noticed you, turn you around and shuffle you back to bed. Or worse, they’d carry you. 
How easily you could slip away, though. 
Well...in theory. 
Perhaps that’s why they ‘re not paying you any mind. How far could you really go in your current state? 
Why would you want to stray from the only safe space you have? 
The world outside is more dangerous with the state you’re in. Not just because of your injuries and your status, but also because you know Shepherd is still out there, and for all you know Graves is as well. 
He could be waiting right outside the door. 
No. 
They’d know. 
They’d protect you. 
They failed. 
You push past the fear in favor of certainty as you push forward, passing the dining table in your slow crawl towards the sliding glass door. 
It poses an entirely new threat as you stand before it, staring out the darkened glass. You have to get it open. Getting it open takes strength and you’re down to one hand that’s trying to keep you upright. 
You have to know. 
You have to be certain. 
You lean your weight on the crutch, ignoring the way it digs into your armpit as you reach for the handle. You click the lock, wrapping your fingers around the plastic before pulling. Your body screams with pain as you tug, the door sliding in the track as slowly as you had moved across the small living area. It’s almost as if it's mocking you. 
It’s open only as wide as you need to crutch your way through, doing your best not to knock your left shoulder against the frame. 
If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 
Breathe. 
You can smell it. 
The salty sea air invades your senses, slipping up through your nose and straight into your brain. Memories come flooding back of childhood vacations back when things were simpler. Back when nothing mattered but the sand and the water and avoiding getting chased by your brothers carrying the piece of seaweed they found. 
Polkadot bathing suits, bright red to be seen easily. Toes in the water, sand everywhere. The nap in the silent car home. 
How simple life was back then. How easy life was. 
Your heart aches for those days again. The days when you could exist without a care in the world, trusting your pack would keep you safe, trusting your family would care for you. Your mind yearns for that sense of safety and security again. 
The world is grey as you hobble across the porch, the grey seeming to go on forever. You missed it, the chill in the air, the gloomy grey overhead. How you yearned for the gloom of England while stuck in the heat of Texas. 
Anything is better than Texas. 
Your forward shuffle pauses at the edge of the deck, your eyes looking out into the grey. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare out into the distance, the ache in your chest intensifying. It blocks out the pain in your body, numbing you to everything else as you stand there, legs trembling from the effort of going the short distance from your room to the end of the porch. 
You can see it. 
Emotions swirl inside of you like a hurricane as you stare out where the grey water meets the grey sky in the line of the horizon. Those emotions threaten to choke you as you stand there trembling at the edge of the porch. There’s a breeze, a cold one that bites through the fabric of your sweatshirt and into the skin below, but you don’t care. 
You can’t care. 
Your legs shake from the exertion, the neverending exhaustion that’s settled deep into your bones. It’s not just a physical exhaustion, but a mental one as well. It’s been a long week. 
Only a week. 
So much has happened in a week. 
You want to sit. You want to sink down onto the porch and rest. 
If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 
There’s a pain in your chest as your breath catches in your throat. The emotions are whirling, tightening around your chest, squeezing your lungs until they feel like they might pop. 
Breathe. 
In and out. 
You needed certainty. You needed to know. 
You can hear it. You can smell it. You can see it. 
A single tear rolls down your cheek as you stare out at the sea. 
NEXT ->
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idkyetxoxo · 2 months ago
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Aemond Targaryen - Embracing the Unexpected
Summary - Aemond and his wife navigate the fear, love, and uncertainty of new parenthood, discovering that the joy of new life is irresistible, even when it arrives as an unexpected set of multiple babies.
Pairing - Aemond Targaryen x reader
Warnings - Childbirth (brief)
Word count - 2482
Masterlist for Aemond • House of the Dragon General Masterlist
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"You startled me," I gasped, my voice trembling as I felt a pair of hands trail softly across my bare shoulders. My heart raced, pounding in my chest, as I clung desperately to the discarded fabric of my gown.
"It's only me," Aemond murmured, his voice low and soothing. He pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of my neck, his hands gliding along my sides. 
I drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm myself. With a subtle wriggle, I slipped out of his embrace and stepped away, wrapping the nightgown more securely around myself before turning to face him.
His expression was a mixture of concern and sadness.
"What's the matter?" he asked softly as I made my way to the bed. I sat down, crossing my legs and began to braid my hair with methodical movements.
"Nothing," I replied, barely above a whisper. Aemond sat beside me, his fingers gently untangling the strands of my hair as he watched me with a worried gaze.
"Then why have you been keeping me at a distance these past few weeks?" he asked, his lips brushing against the side of my neck. 
I gripped the sheets tightly, my face averted as the flush of distress spread from my cheeks to the tips of my ears.
He pulled back, his eyes searching mine with a pained expression. 
"Am I repulsing you?" he asked, his voice thick with hurt. Before I could respond, he continued, "Do you no longer want me?"
I shook my head quickly, my heart aching at the thought of causing him such pain. I moved closer to him, desperate to reassure him. 
"No, it's not that at all. I promise," I said, my voice earnest. I could see the hurt in his eyes, and it made me feel even more unsettled.
"Aemond, it's just..." I started, the words tangling in my throat as I struggled to articulate my feelings. My mind raced, the weight of the truth pressing down on me until I couldn't hold it back any longer. 
"I'm with child," I blurted out, the confession leaving my lips before I could second-guess it.
His reaction was instant. His head snapped towards me, eye wide with shock. 
For a moment, his face lit up with joy, but as he registered my anxiety, that joy dimmed. The light in his expression faded, and he slowly stood from the bed, turning away from me as if to shield himself from what he feared might come next.
"Wait," I cried out, desperation seizing my heart as tears welled up in my eyes. The mere thought of him walking away from me, from us, was unbearable. "Please, don't leave."
His back remained turned, but his voice was sharp, carrying the weight of his wounded pride. 
"Does the thought of having a child with me cause such distress?" he asked, his words laced with bitterness. I shook my head, realizing too late that he couldn't see my silent denial.
"No, no, Aemond, it's not like that at all," I pleaded, my voice cracking under the strain of my emotions. "I'm just... afraid."
Finally, he turned around to face me, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. 
"Why are you afraid?" he asked, his voice softer now, though it was clear he was struggling to understand.
"I'm afraid that I won't be enough," I whispered, my deepest fears spilling out into the open. 
"That I'll fail you, that I'll fail our child. I'm terrified of what's to come, of not knowing how to be a mother, of not being able to protect our child from the dangers of this world and most of all, I'm afraid that you'll see me differently now, that I'll lose you in ways I can't even fathom."
Aemond's expression softened, and he took a step closer to me, reaching out to cup my face in his hands. 
"You're not going to lose me," he said, his voice steady and full of conviction. "We'll face this together, whatever comes. You're not alone in this, and I will be by your side every step of the way. We'll figure it out, I promise you."
Tears spilt over, and I leaned into his touch, finding comfort in the warmth of his hands. His words were a balm to my anxious heart, but the fear still lingered, a shadow that would take time to fully dispel. 
Eight months later, I found myself pacing the chamber, one hand pressed against my back, the other cradling my swollen belly. 
Each step was a struggle, my breaths coming in short, laboured gasps as the pain in my abdomen grew more intense. Every contraction felt like a wave crashing over me, leaving me trembling and weak.
I groaned, my forehead resting heavily against the bedpost as another contraction tore through me. My hair was matted to my forehead, damp with sweat, and my body ached under the immense strain. 
It felt as though I might burst from the pressure, the sheer force of it overwhelming me.
"Where is Aemond? Where is he?" I gasped, my voice tinged with desperation as I scanned the room. 
Faces blurred around me, the maids and midwives moving quickly, but none of them were the ones I needed to see.
"The father's presence is not customary during the birth," the maester explained calmly, though his words were drowned out by the scream that erupted from my lips. 
The pain was unbearable, and the thought of going through this without Aemond made it worse.
"I want Aemond!" I cried out, pushing away the handmaidens who were attempting to soothe me. Their gentle hands and soft words were of no comfort, only he could provide that.
As if summoned by my plea, the door to the chamber burst open, and Aemond rushed in, his face pale with worry. Without a moment's hesitation, he ran to my side, his arms encircling me in a protective embrace.
"Aemond, please, stay with me. I can't do this alone," I sobbed, clutching at him as if he were my lifeline.
"My prince," the maester began, his voice tinged with disapproval, "it is not customary for the father to be present—"
"I do not care what is customary," Aemond snapped, his voice steely with resolve. "If my wife wants me to stay, I will stay."
He guided me toward the bed, his hands gentle but firm as he helped me lie down. Another scream tore from my throat, the pain intensifying as my body prepared for the final stage of labour. 
Aemond held my hand tightly, his presence grounding me amid the chaos.
"You're doing so well," he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple as he tried to soothe me. "I'm here, love. I'm not going anywhere."
Each contraction came with a force that seemed to split me in two. Time lost all meaning as I focused solely on Aemond's steady presence.
The pain was blinding, but knowing he was there kept me from being completely consumed by it.
Minutes stretched into hours, each moment a battle as my body worked tirelessly to bring our child or so we thought into the world. Aemond never wavered, his hands steady on mine, his words a constant source of comfort. 
When I felt I could push no more, when I was certain I had nothing left to give, his voice would pull me back, reminding me that I was not alone.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the maester's voice broke through the haze of pain. 
"The babe is crowning," he announced, and I gasped, the realization that the end was near bringing a rush of determination.
"Just a little more," Aemond whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You're almost there."
With a final, desperate push, I felt a release, and the sound of a baby's cry filled the room. Tears welled up in my eyes as I collapsed against the pillows, utterly exhausted but relieved beyond measure.
"It's a boy," the maester announced, placing the squirming, crying infant in Aemond's arms. His face was a mixture of awe and disbelief as he looked down at our son, and then back at me.
"You did it," he whispered, his voice filled with pride.
Before I could respond, another contraction hit, more intense than before. My eyes widened in shock, and I looked at Aemond, fear creeping back into my heart. 
"There's another one," I gasped, my hand gripping his with renewed urgency.
The maester's expression shifted from concern to realization. "There's another babe," he confirmed, moving quickly to assist with the unexpected second birth.
Aemond's eyes were wide with shock, but he quickly regained his composure, focusing entirely on me. 
"You can do this," he said, his voice steady. "I'm right here with you."
The second labour was just as intense, but somehow, knowing what to expect made it more bearable. Aemond's hand never left mine, his voice guiding me through each agonizing contraction. After what felt like an eternity, a second cry filled the room.
"It's another boy," the maester said, handing the newborn to a waiting handmaiden to clean and wrap.
Aemond's eye was shining with tears as he looked between our two sons.
Before I could catch my breath, a sharp pain tore through me once more, I felt as though my body was being torn apart.. My heart raced, panic rising as I realized there was yet another child.
The maester's expression turned serious as he realized the truth. "Triplets," he said, a mix of amazement and concern in his voice. "This will be the last one."
Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me, but Aemond's presence kept me from sinking into despair. 
"You're almost there," he whispered, his voice strained with emotion. "Just one more, love. You can do this."
With every ounce of strength I had left, I pushed through the final wave of pain. The third birth was the hardest, with my body protesting the entire way, but finally, mercifully, it was over. 
The last cry filled the room, softer and more delicate than the others.
"It's a girl," the maester announced, his tone gentler now, as he carefully swaddled our daughter.
Aemond was speechless, his eye wide with disbelief and joy as he looked at the three tiny bundles in the hands of the midwives. "Three..." he whispered as if he couldn't quite believe it. "We have three."
I collapsed back onto the pillows, utterly spent but filled with a profound sense of love and accomplishment. Tears streamed down my face as Aemond placed our daughter in my arms, her tiny features perfect and serene.
He sat beside me, holding our two sons, his expression one of utter devotion. "You did it," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You brought them into the world."
Despite the exhaustion, despite the pain, nothing could overshadow the overwhelming joy of that moment.
A couple of hours passed in a haze of exhaustion and bliss. The room, once filled with the frantic energy of childbirth, had quieted into a peaceful sanctuary. 
The three tiny bundles nestled in our arms were the centre of our world, their soft breaths and occasional whimpers the only sounds breaking the stillness.
Aemond sat beside me on the bed, cradling our two sons, while our daughter rested against my chest. I marvelled at their delicate features, the softness of their skin, and the way they seemed to fit perfectly into our arms. 
It was overwhelming to think that just hours ago, they had been growing inside me, and now they were here each a tiny miracle.
The door creaked open, and I looked up to see Alicent entering the chamber. Her face, usually so composed and regal, softened as she took in the sight before her. 
Her eyes shone with a mixture of pride and love as she approached the bed, her steps careful and measured.
"Aemond," she greeted her son, her voice warm with affection. "And how are you, my dear?" she asked, turning to me with a smile that reached her eyes.
"Tired, but happy," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, still feeling the lingering exhaustion from the ordeal.
Alicent's gaze shifted to the three babes, her expression one of awe. She reached out to gently stroke the cheek of our daughter, her fingers tender and light. 
"They're beautiful," she said softly, her voice filled with admiration. "Three little blessings. I don't think I've ever seen anything so perfect."
I smiled, my heart swelling with pride and joy. 
"They are," I agreed, my voice catching in my throat as I looked down at our daughter. The love I felt for them was overwhelming, almost too much to contain.
Alicent moved her gaze to the two boys in Aemond's arms, her smile deepening as she reached out to touch their tiny hands. 
"Have you decided on names?" she asked, her tone gentle as she looked between us.
Aemond and I exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between us. We had spent countless nights talking about names, but now that they were here, the decision felt weightier, more significant.
Finally, Aemond spoke, his voice soft yet steady. "We have," he said, his eyes meeting his mother's. "Our daughter will be named Viserra,"
Alicent's eyes softened further, her smile widening. "Viserra," she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue with reverence. "A beautiful name for a beautiful girl."
"And our sons," I added, my voice trembling with emotion, "will be named Vaegon and Viserion."
Alicent's eyes flickered with recognition, and she nodded approvingly. "Vaegon and Viserion," she echoed, her voice filled with pride. "Strong names for strong boys. They will carry them well."
She looked between us, her expression one of deep affection and pride. "You have chosen well," she said, her voice filled with warmth.
Alicent leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. 
"I am so proud of you both," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You have brought such light into this world, and I know you will be wonderful parents."
She stepped back, giving us a moment of privacy, her eyes lingering on the three tiny babes who had already stolen all our hearts. 
"Rest now," she said, her voice tender. "You have earned it and when you're ready, we will celebrate these new additions to our family."
As she left the room, the warmth of her presence lingered, filling the chamber with a sense of peace and fulfilment. Aemond looked at me, his face filled with love and gratitude. 
"Viserra, Vaegon, and Viserion," he repeated softly as if the names were a prayer, a promise for the future.
I nodded, smiling through my tears as I looked down at our children. "They're perfect," I whispered, my heart swelling with love for the tiny lives we had brought into the world.
Aemond leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his hand resting gently on our daughter's back. 
As we sat there, surrounded by the quiet strength of our love and the promise of our future, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together.
A/n - I swear thinking of the names took longer than writing the whole thing literally had to hop onto reddit.
Aemond tag list - @darylandbethfanforever9 @lessdepressy
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snowballseal · 2 months ago
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Tipsy Tricks
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Sylus X Reader
Summary: You and Sylus agree to focus on work for a little bit, meaning you don't have time to see each other. That is...until you get a panicked call from the twins saying their boss is drunk and needs someone to cuddle with.
Word Count: 1836
Note: FLUFF - Sylus is drunk, but honestly, I feel like he can handle his alcohol well so he does a bit of acting. It's all just to get your attention and he's a little more clingy. Also, Luke and Kieran my beloveds.
---
“Miss, we need your help!”
You blink at the sudden shout that comes through your phone the moment you answer it.
“Luke?”
“Please Miss! Boss is not acting himself!”
“Kieran? Wait- hold on, just-”
“Ah! We’re too late!”
“Please Miss, come save us!”
You blink again as the call ends just as abruptly.
What the-?
You stare at the now dark screen for a long moment, just trying to process what happened. It’s late, late enough that you’re already dressed in your pajamas and winding down in bed. The last thing you were expecting was to get such a panicked call from Luke and Kieran.
What were they even talking about? Why do they need saving? Is something wrong with Sylus?
The thought wedges into your chest like a thorn, sharp and uncomfortable. You hadn’t heard from the Onychinus leader - your lover - in a few days due to his busy schedule. Neither of you liked it, but you agreed it was best he just focus on work, and you’d do the same to keep yourself occupied.
Getting a call like this only makes your anxiety skyrocket.
You don’t even bother wasting the time to change, throwing a coat over your pajamas and snatching your keys as you hurdle out the door. 
---
“Miss!!! Oh you’ve come to save us, thank you!”
Luke and Kieran throw the door open before your knuckles even touch it. You jump back, chest heaving from having run all the way from the transport station. They look just as frazzled, well, as frazzled as two men in masks can look. 
“What’s wrong? Is Sylus okay? Why are you guys freaking out?” You shoot out questions quickly, grabbing one of the twins by the shoulders. “You guys were infuriatingly cryptic over the phone! Seriously, who calls in the middle of the night like that?”
“We’re sorry,” Luke leans in, trying to rescue his brother from your vicious grip, “We just didn’t know what to do. Boss hardly ever gets like this!”
“He kept talking about you so we figured you could help us,” Kieran insists, ducking away with the help of his brother.
“Okay, but what’s wrong? Is he hurt?” You press for more details, concern only growing. “What happened to make him act weird?”
“He’s drunk.”
Your jaw shuts with an audible click, going tense as you stare at them incredulously. Seriously? All of this, all of the panic, the urgency, because Sylus got drunk? You take a deep, slow breath, trying to ease the immediate desire to knock their heads together.
“Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you called me. In the middle of the night. After I had settled down for bed. Screaming bloody murder over the phone. Because Sylus had too much to drink?”
“...yes.”
“That’s right.”
You close your eyes. Another deep breath. Slowly, the panic that had washed over you recedes, leaving a sliver of irritation and amusement. You really should expect nothing less from them.
“Okay,” you sigh and prop your hands on your hips. The two seem to relax, like they had actually expected you to smack them. Which you might have, if they hadn’t sounded truly distressed earlier. “So why is this such a bad thing? Sylus is an adult, he can handle being a little drunk, but you two are acting like the world is ending. Why?”
“Well you see-”
“Boss gets incredibly physical when he’s drunk-”
“Not in a violent way-”
“Unless he’s around people he doesn’t like.”
“Right.”
You blink slowly at them, “...so?”
“It’s scary!” Kieran crows.
“It’s like having a kodiak bear trying to give you a hug!” Luke adds, curling his fingers in a gesture you’re sure is meant to mimic said bear.
“We love the boss, but we can’t handle him like this.”
“And he kept asking for you! So we called.”
Ah.
You take a moment to really process all of it. Sylus is drunk. Sylus is a touchy drunk…
It’s too good to pass up on
“Alright, boys,” you hum, an excited grin slowly spreading across your lips. You clap both of them gently on the shoulder. “I’ll take it from here. You can go hide wherever you usually do.”
“Thank you, Miss.”
“We knew calling you was the right decision. Please take care of our boss.”
“I’ll do my best.”
The twins skitter off as soon as you let them go, leaving you alone in the foyer. You quietly slip your coat off, hanging it up properly before making your way further into the base. Not knowing exactly where Sylus could be, you check all the obvious places. The bar. His bedroom. The kitchen. All of which are empty.
Finally you come to the den. Each step makes your heart race a little quicker, the thick silence putting you on edge. A drunk person shouldn’t be so hard to find. But as you step into the room, looking over every nook and cranny (despite how large the man in question is), you once again find it empty.
Where on earth could he be?
“My, my, a kitten’s wandered into my home.” You nearly jump out of your skin when an arm curls around your waist, drawing you back against a solid chest. The familiar warmth of his touch is like a balm to your nerves. You glance over your shoulder, gaze meeting a pair of sleepy vermillion eyes, their depths hazy and dark. “You broke our agreement, sweetie.”
You bite back a smile, “Maybe I wouldn’t have had to if a certain someone hadn’t gotten tipsy and scared the boys.”
Sylus huffs, his face dipping to nuzzle into the crook of your neck in an uncharacteristically soft show of affection. His breath is dizzyingly warm against your skin, his nose tracing featherlight along the column of your throat, like he’s breathing you in. It makes you feel dizzy. You clutch onto his arm to anchor yourself, breath hitching when his lips press tenderly against your racing pulse. 
“I’ve missed you.” 
The words are a mere whisper, the sound rumbling through his chest, so deep you can feel it with how his body leans into yours. You let out a shuddering breath, eyes flickering shut.
“I missed you too, Sy.”
So much. You didn’t want to admit to yourself just how much his absence had been wearing you down. Little by little until you could feel the gaping emptiness, like a stream carving a canyon. You were homesick. And it makes your heart flutter to know he felt the same.
“How about we sit, huh?” You suggest softly, and his arms tighten. Turning your head, despite the awkward angle, you press a reassuring kiss to his silvery locks, “I’m not going anywhere, love. I can’t support your weight much longer, though.”
Seemingly appeased, Sylus lets out an understanding hum. In a puff of black smoke, you find yourself settled on the couch, your back pressed into the soft leather with Sylus laying on top of you, his arms still curled around your waist, head resting on your chest. He nuzzles into you like a cat, letting out a long, drawn out sigh.
It’s adorable really. And jarring. While Sylus has never shied away from being affectionate, it’s always been in his rough, teasing way. This feels tender. Vulnerable. While you were originally planning to tease him to no end, you find yourself overwhelmed with a gentle kind of adoration for the man, your fingers softly fussing with his hair.
“You know, I think I like this side of you.”
“Hmmm, is that so?” Sylus mumbles sleepily, his eyes barely open as he gazes up at your face.
“Yah,” you breathe, tracing the relaxed line of his brow, fingers skimming down his cheek to brush the corner of his lips, “You’re acting so cute and docile. Maybe I should start calling you kitten.”
Even sleepy Sylus won’t let that stand. The second your fingers graze his lips, he nips at them, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you snatch them back, inhaling sharply. Heat curls in your chest, matching the heat burning behind his gaze as he flashes you that lazy yet dangerous smile.
“Don’t mistake my affection for passivity, sweetie,” he rumbles, pushing himself up just enough to graze his lips against yours, the smell of expensive alcohol and his rich cologne clouding your senses. “You should be more wary of a man when his restraints are loose. There’s no telling what he might do once you fall for his trap.”
Ah. You hold back a giggle, eyes narrowing up at him with mirth. So that’s what this was all about.
“Trap, huh? Is that what this was? Did you get tipsy and scare the twins on purpose so they’d call me?”
Sylus doesn’t look ashamed for even a second, offering a nonchalant shrug. The way his ears go red, though, tells you that you’ve hit the nail on the head.
“Aw, you did all that just cause you missed me?” Reaching up, you loop your arms around Sylus’ shoulders and draw him even closer. Your lips brush his as you murmur, “You could have just called, pretty bird.”
“And what fun would that be?” Sylus tilts his head, eyes flickering down to your lips. 
He wants to kiss you breathless, the sensation of your lips ghosting against his driving his already muddled thoughts wild. The way you look under him, hair a mess, dressed in such cute pajamas, is a perfectly tempting image, but it’s the fact that he can’t quite think straight that makes him hold back. While getting drunk was certainly a good way to get you here, it was not conducive to anything else he might want.
And simply having you by his side is enough.
You sigh as Sylus presses a sweet kiss to your lips. Unlike most of your kisses, this one isn’t about passion or hunger. Intense, yes, but intense in a way that feels like devotion. It’s reverent and slow, leaving a lingering hum under your skin as he draws away.
“Will you stay?”
Fondly, you rub your nose against his ever so slightly, “Of course.”
“Good.”
Sylus lowers himself back into you, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Your arms loop around him, fingers going back to his hair. The silence that envelops you is comforting, the only sound being that of your mingled breath. His warmth covers you so completely, you can’t help but relax, eyelids growing heavier with each second that ticks by. Sylus’ breathing steadily grows deeper, lulling you further and further into sleep. Until you slip under, your lips pressed to his temple as you fall asleep.
And that’s how Luke and Kieran find you the next morning. Cuddled up, with their boss curled around you protectively, like two lounging cats.
You wake up to a notification on your phone.
The picture immediately becomes your new background.
(And secretly, Sylus also makes it his, too.)
---
Hope you enjoyed, my lovely fishies!!!
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hajimesh · 20 days ago
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kiss it better. gojo satoru
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fluff. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ parents au, dad!gojo + mom!reader, slice of life, two unnamed sons aged 5 and 2, mentions of injury but nothing serious.
little sunshines au
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parenthood with satoru is pretty easy—for the most part. even with two toddlers running all over the gojo estate, him behind their little heels, and being the reason for their squeals and giggles.
he's the playful and doting father, unless his wife's safety is compromised.
you couldn't erase the wide-eyed looks of your two sons from your mind. their usually cheeky grins pulled down into pouts as they sniffled.
"baby, talk to me. can you move your leg?"
their cries were cut off as satoru slammed the door of your bedroom in their scared little faces, hovering around you frantically after placing you down on the mattress, all while checking your injured leg.
"don't shut them off," you ignored his question and immediately tried to sit up, only to feel your knee throb in pain. but even with distress all over your face, you scolded your fretting husband. "they're scared, let them in."
so when the door opened and revealed their tearful eyes, the two boys quickly ran towards you, tiny arms wrapping tightly around you while hiding their faces in your neck.
"it's just an ouchie." the gentle words of reassurance from you quickly got their attention.
big, curious eyes stared at you as the sniffles subsided, satoru took this as an opportunity to wipe the snot from their faces.
your oldest was first to speak after his dad helped him blow his nose, "we can kiss it better."
with an eager nod and a wobbly pout, the youngest gojo agreed with his brother, looking adorably alike to his father.
satoru remained silent, feeling shame for how he had acted. in his defense, his heart dropped when he saw his dear wife fall to the ground with a scream of pain—all because of a lego.
the two boys kissed your cheeks and waited, watching for any signs of your ouchie being nursed back to health. so, with an exaggerated gasp, you brought them closer and squeezed them in your arms.
"oh my gosh, I'm healed! it doesn't hurt anymore!"
satoru found himself deflating against the wall, watching his little family fondly. he could see the purple bruise forming on your knee, and still, you showered your babies with kisses. his heart jumped when your hand reached out to his, calling him towards the family hug.
"I should've caught you."
the ghost of his lips against your neck felt soothing, the weight of the three gojo boys on top of yours a reminder of how fortunate your life is—to be blessed with a loving husband and two healthy sons.
with tender caresses to the back of his head, you hoped to ease your husband's guilt. "like I said, it's just an ouchie."
but when that didn't seem to work, his pouty lips turning into a frown, you turned to your sons.
"and my sweet babies already healed it. right, nuggets?"
"yes, mama." once again, your oldest was quick to reply, nodding vehemently at his sulking dad. "papa, we healed mama. okay?"
"ouchie, buh-bye!"
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