#i think how absolutely scary the doctor can be when he wants to

[lincolndjarin]

Every Now and Then - ch. one

[ I Dream of Something Wild ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 6.4k

summary : Joel Miller destroyed you. He loved you, then he left, leaving you in the New York City, QZ. But he's a good southern gentleman, so of course he didn't leave you without a reminder of the time you spent together. Four years later you're living in Jackson, in a lovely little ranch house. (With your reminder.) The last person you want to see is Joel Miller, unfortunately you've never been particularly lucky.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, injury, language, manipulation, joel takes advantage of readers situation, eventual smut, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, she is picked up by joel at one point but i'm a firm believer that he's strong enough to lift any one who may find themselves in the pov of our reader, joel is possessive and controlling, dark!joel miller in a sense?? like he's not really dark now but he's going to be, multiple time lines, not canon compliant, mentions of prostitution, i sorta made up my own timeline, i probs missed tags sorry!!

a/n : i really need to fix my writing schedule so i'm hoping that having a new fic to put my energy into is going to help!! also sorry if this chapter doesn't have much going on i need to set up a lot of stuff but i promise more action in future chapters

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

He crept up on you like the shadows as the sun sets in the west. An all encompassing darkness that blotted out the sun until all that was left was night. He sunk his claws into you so deep that your eyes adjusted to the dark, and you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you shrunk away from the inevitable sunrise that made him cower away from the dawn as if he never really was big and scary. 

And in the light of day you saw him for what he really was.

He was just a man, who was once a boy, who was scared of the dark. 

So he made himself big, and terrifying, and he grew so accustomed to the thing he once feared that the very idea of anything else made him recoil.

You feel something akin to pity when you think of him now. That doesn’t mean you forgive him, but when you can stomach it you try to, for the sake of your peace. You’d probably be happier if you could just forgive him. 

But you can’t.

So you don’t. 

It’s hard when his own blood doesn’t think he’s a good man. Tommy was afraid of him. Terrified at the very thought of his big brother. You can recall several nights where you had woken up to him screaming in the sleeping bag beside you, absolutely petrified of a memory that had inevitably snuck in through the darkness. You never feared him quite like that, but seeing the effect he has on Tommy makes your stomach churn, a painful reminder of your own suffering.    

Most of the time it’s easier to just not think of him at all, despite the reminders he’s branded into you forever. You ignore him when he tries to soak back into your very being, but at the end of the day he’s unavoidable. You see him in the dark brown eyes of others, hear him in Tommy’s southern drawl, taste him when you have the occasional sip of whiskey. He tries and tries relentlessly to worm his way back into you, but you never let him. You put up walls and you focus on other things, anything, that isn’t Joel Miller. And even though you can’t forget him entirely you manage to ignore the memory of the man you once loved for several years.  

Until one day it’s impossible to keep the thought of him away. 

Until he himself makes it impossible.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“Stay off of it or you’re going to lose it.”

That’s what the QZ doctor had told you. A couple weeks of bed rest was the most he could offer when you came to him with your broken ankle. 

A couple weeks without working is a death sentence. 

If you don’t work you won’t be able to afford food. And you don’t have anybody to fall back on, no family, no friends, not even an acquaintance to borrow funds from. 

Lose your leg or starve. 

As appealing as it sounds, starvation isn’t an option, too painful. 

So you have to work. The only issue with that is you’ve been blacklisted, the stupid doctor had you put on a no-shift list. You beg them to let you work, you’ll do anything, but they never budge. 

You only have enough ration cards stocked up to make it to the end of the week so you have to consider your other options. You could sell yourself. It certainly isn’t uncommon and the money’s good but it’s too dangerous, especially if you can’t run on your leg. You’ve seen too many people get hurt in that profession to risk it. You don’t have a trade. You’re terrible at sewing, you can’t cook, there isn’t a need for much of anything else and you own nothing valuable. 

So there’s only one other option for you. 

You steal. 

You dress inconspicuously, in your only pair of jeans and a plain shirt, both of which are getting rather tattered at this point but you have nothing else. With your jacket on you pull up your hood and you do the exact thing you aren’t supposed to do, and you walk. 

The conditions in the QZ are poor enough that your limp doesn’t stand out. You walk up and down the streets all day, slow and steady, with your head down and you don’t take risks. You don’t take anything big or obvious, just little things. A single ration card peeking out of a pocket, a pocket knife off a vendor's table, stale bread, set away from the good stuff where no one is looking. And you return home each night with your pockets full and your leg aching. 

By the end of your second week you’re still barely scraping by but you’re managing. What little ration cards you manage to snatch you use to buy food, but it’s still nothing compared to what you’re used to making. Your ankle feels worse by the day. 

You need more. 

You need to find a source of income that will let you rest or you’re going to lose your leg, which will leave you in an even worse position. It isn’t until you hear your neighbor slam his door that you come up with an idea. 

Your neighbor probably has more cards than he knows what to do with, and he’s always coming and going so he probably wouldn’t even notice if you skimmed a little off the top. Nothing substantial, just enough to keep you going and give your leg time to heal. 

The only problem is your neighbors reputation. 

You doubt you’d have much of a chance of surviving him if you got caught. Joel Miller was a bit of an urban legend around the QZ. Of course you only knew him as your stoic neighbor, just a guy who didn’t make a lot of noise and came home at strange hours, and sometimes disappeared for days at a time. 

But everyone else acted as if he was some kind of Boogey Man. You didn’t see him much in the streets but when you did children ran and people whispered, and while you had no knowledge of how he earned that reputation you knew it probably wasn’t pretty. 

So you’d have to be careful. 

He’s gone now, you’d heard him stopping down the hall so you decide it couldn’t hurt to take a peek, just scout out the area. 

You climb out onto the fire escape, your leg aching as you do, and you use the dull little knife you’d stolen a few days ago to shimmy open his window lock. It slides open pretty easily, he’s probably rather confident that nobody would ever mess with him so he doesn’t seem to have the usual precautions taken to protect his belongings. 

Lucky you. 

Stepping into the room you wince as you land on your bad leg, stumbling onto the floor, knocking a board loose in the process. 

“Shit.” You groan, sitting up quickly, trying to put everything back in its proper place when you catch a glimmer of something under the floor. 

A revolver. 

You shouldn’t be here. Joel Miller is a dangerous man, you knew that but you did this anyway, you can’t help but feel incredibly stupid as you stare at the weapon. You feel so stupid that you don’t even hear the click of a lock. You don’t even bother with the ration cards you can see peeking out from under the gun, you just want to leave and forget that you ever thought this was a good idea. It’s a struggle, getting back to your feet, your leg is throbbing, begging for a rest you can’t afford to take right now. With a groan you push the window open, eager for this silly idea to be over you try to figure out the best way to go about this. You’re starting to lose feeling in your leg, should you go bad leg first or try to balance on it while shimmying the rest of your body out the window? 

You never get to decide what the best course of action is because your head is slammed against the wall, your knees crumple underneath you as you hit the floor, the room spinning as your leg bends at an angle that makes you shriek. You slap your hand over your mouth but it’s far too late for that. He’s been here the whole time. It’s dark but you can still make out the foreboding shape of his figure. The broad shouldered beast that’s glaring down at you, his boot nudging your chin roughly as you bite back a shriek of fear. 

“I could report you to FEDRA for this.” The gruff voice whispers into the darkness. 

You’re desperate to avoid lockup, you know you’ll die in there, or worse. Although you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen to you either way. 

“I- I’ll tell them about your contraband.” You point frantically at the loose floor board. “They’ll lock you up too.” His glare is unwavering as he stares down at you. You’re a little worried that he might just kill you himself, there would be no consequences, no one would be looking for you. 

No one would look for you. 

The thought makes you shudder and even though you try to stop yourself you feel your eyes beginning to water. You hear footsteps, watching his outline move across the room before you’re shrinking away from the light of a dim lamp in the corner. 

“You gotta be real dumb to find yourself in this situation.” He mutters, turning back around to stare at you. His gaze makes you want to cover yourself up, it’s like he can see every single part of you within that icy glare. You’ve never taken the time to really, truly look at him before but you do now, after all this might be your last chance to look at anything at all. 

He isn’t a terrible last sight. 

Sure, he’s ominous enough to make you want to try and run despite the ache in your calf right now, but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. In a rugged, weathered sort of way. He’s older than you thought, gray sprinkled throughout the mess of curls framing his face. What a nice face it is. Soft where it needs to be soft, sharp where it needs to be sharp. He marches back over to you, easily taking the pocket knife from your hand and crouching down in front of you.

“Give me one good reason not to finish you off right now.” He points the blade in the direction of your leg. “Seems like it’d be a mercy at this point.” 

Maybe he’s right. 

Maybe it would be a mercy to just let him put you out of your misery. Why have you been fighting so hard? You can’t seem to recall a reason other than the fact that that’s what you’re supposed to do. Your mind tells you that you’re supposed to keep fighting but you can’t think of a single driving force. You’re in pain, constantly, you live in a world that wants you dead, and you have no one relying on you. 

You don’t have a good reason, other than the fact that surviving is all you know how to do. So you look up at him and you nod. Taking in the sight of the pretty, frightening man one last time before closing your eyes. 

It feels good. You feel good, for the first time in a long time, knowing that you won’t hurt anymore. You won’t have to be afraid of someone kicking your door in, you won’t have to worry about where your next meal is going to come from, and you won’t have to worry about turning into a monster. It’s a mercy.

So you close your eyes.

Suddenly grateful for the killer before you, your guardian angel, here to deliver you the peace you didn’t know you needed. 

You wait patiently for the sting of a blade or the embrace of his hands around your throat but all you're met with is a sigh. When you finally find the courage to open your eyes he’s sitting on the edge of the bed across from you, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Just go.” He grumbles, muttering a few other words you don’t catch. 

You’re almost disappointed, having accepted this was the end, and now you’re being shoved back into the cold and unforgiving world. You start to get to your feet but your knees buckle under you. You try again, willing your leg to just work but much to your dismay you can’t even straighten out your leg anymore. When you try to move it all you find yourself only able to bend your knee a few inches.

Shit. 

You think of the fall you took on the way in and wonder if you finally pushed yourself to the limit. If you go back to the doctor will he remove the entire thing? Maybe you should just ask Joel to finish the job before it comes to that. It would be a kindness, between a quick death here or a slow death starving in your apartment you’ll take the quick way every time. Before you even have a chance to ask he’s on his feet. Maybe his patience has run out and you won’t have to ask at all. 

“Let me.” His voice rattles around in your head, so low and commanding that you put up no resistance as he lifts you up under your arms and sets you down on the edge of the bed where he just was. He flips the knife out, going to cut your jeans off of you but you stop him.

“Wait!” He freezes in place, giving you an impatient look. “These are my only jeans, just- just pull them down.” Before you can realize how embarrassing it might be to show your neighbor your faded pink panties, you're already unbuttoning your pants, lifting your hips up so he can pull them down your legs with a roll of his eyes. It’s painful, the feeling of the denim running against your skin but it’s better than not having any pants at all. 

Fuck. 

It’s been a while since you’ve actually looked at your leg. You’re surprised he was able to get your jeans off with how swollen it is, the flesh bulging around your ankle and now up your calf. The skin is shiny and blotchy with shades of purple and red. The sight of it makes you want to hurl but you manage to swallow the urge, looking away as he pokes at the tender flesh. 

“Christ girl, what the hell did you do?” When he grabs your ankle to lift your leg you yelp in pain, making him set your leg back down instinctively. 

“I just- it’s just a broken ankle.” You mumble as he gives you an incredulous look.

“Like hell it is.” Something about the sternness of his voice demands your obedience as you nod. “Wanna tell me what really happened?” 

“Well I- I fell and-” You struggle to find an excuse to justify how bad you let this get but you come up empty. So you tell the truth. “I fell off a ladder while painting over graffiti during my shift and broke my ankle. The doctor told me to stay off of it and- well, I couldn’t afford not to work so I just… didn’t” You rush through your words, staring anywhere else but into his demanding gaze as you explain yourself. 

“So you turned to stealin’.” He says it like the fact it is and you can only bring yourself to nod. “You need antibiotics.” He says just as matter of factly. “You know how much that sort of thing costs?” 

A lot. 

More than you’d have even if you were working overtime. 

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. 

His eyes were so dark that day they threatened to swallow you whole. Were they always that dark? Or was it just that day, the first day, when he realized that he had you. 

“Look, I don’t do this kinda thing for just anybody. But I can help you.” He had sounded so kind, his hint of a smile had seemed so promising. 

“I can’t afford it-”

“You can use alternative methods to pay me back.” 

You told him you’d think about it. 

And he hadn’t pushed you, he had simply helped you back into your jeans and carried you back to your apartment. He told you he’d check on you tomorrow and see if you had an answer for him.

So when the next day came and you had a fever and your leg was throbbing, demanding your attention you’d been all too eager to accept his help. 

And just like that, it was your idea. 

It wasn’t his, he was blameless, you asked him to help you. And it didn’t matter who had suggested it first, it mattered who brought it up after. 

You had been certain that when he had told you you’d be using alternative methods to pay him back that his intentions were unsavory. And at that point you didn’t really care, you’d made your peace with that. The medicine you needed wasn’t cheap and you could find worse looking men who didn’t take care of themselves the way Joel did. 

But he wanted nothing of the sort. 

Southern Manners.

All he wanted was for you to take care of his apartment when he was out with his business partner, a woman who didn’t seem to dislike you but certainly didn’t care for you. He told you to take a week to just rest, take the medicine he brought you, eat the food that he fed you, and be good. So you did as he asked. And after a week you could move a bit more, you started spending your days at Joel’s tidying up and organizing while he was gone, it was much easier to stay off your leg for most of the day and he always made sure there was food and books for you while he was gone. And when he returned he would help you hobble back to your place and help you into bed without complaint and with a promise that he’d be back in the morning. 

But you still don’t relax around him.

It doesn’t make sense. Even someone who wasn’t known for their cruelty wouldn’t just take a stranger in. You’d like to believe that there’s good in people but you know better than to have that kind of faith. There isn’t enough left of the world to share the remains. Yet Joel does. He doesn’t ask to know you better and he certainly doesn’t tell you about himself yet he shows you more kindness than anyone else in your life has before. 

He must like having someone to take care of. 

That’s how you explain it to yourself. 

You watch him with Tess and it’s clear who’s in charge there, she barely even lets him stitch her up when she returns to the apartment. Joel gets frustrated every time, huffing and pacing around the room before finding some way to tend to you in her place. Icing your leg, or bringing you a new book to read, or feeding you. 

It took a few months for your leg to heal, it had been in such bad shape a part of you worried that it might never be the same as it once was. 

After the first month of your arrangement Joel told you his knees hurt and he wouldn’t be able to carry you home, you offered to just walk yourself over, your leg didn’t hurt that bad anymore and you were more than capable of walking short distances. But he insisted you stay, told you you could sleep in the bed and he’d take the couch.

But his knees hurt, you couldn’t let him do that. 

And you told him you’d take the couch and he told you he wouldn’t feel right making you sleep on the couch with your leg the way it was. 

So you told him you’d both just sleep in the bed. It wasn’t a big deal. You trusted him, of course you did, he had an opportunity to exploit you and he didn’t, if he was going to hurt you he would have done it already. 

He had acted unsure. 

You know now that it was acting. 

So you had insisted. You told him it was okay, you told him you felt safe with him. 

It was your idea. 

Even though it hadn’t been your idea to stay that night.

You had insisted he get in the bed with you. 

A fact that he would bring up often in the months to come. 

He would still help you to your apartment some nights, but just as often he’d complain about his knees and you’d stay. You got used to his warmth, you got used to waking up in his arms and not talking about it in the morning. 

So it made sense when he told you that you should keep your pajamas at his apartment. 

It made sense when he got a toothbrush for you to keep in his bathroom cabinet. 

It made sense when he told you that he couldn’t find new clothes in your size and you could just wear his. 

It made sense when he told you that he and Tess had never been a thing, so you had no reason to feel weird about sleeping in his bed. 

And it made sense when he told you that he’d hold onto the keys to your apartment, afterall you wouldn’t want to lose them. 

Joel Miller was a glue trap. And you had waded across his sticky surface without a care in the world, never realizing that it was getting harder and harder to move until you were standing still. Until the only way you were going to escape was by biting off your own leg. 

You don’t remember when you stopped returning to your own apartment completely, but you know that it happened early on, before you’d even started chewing. 

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“Ruth?” You’re gonna be late if you don’t find her soon. The turntable in the corner of the kitchen plays a 3 Doors Down song as you lift the table cloth, searching for the little girl. “We don’t have time to play, we need to get you to school.” You groan, turning to face the boy currently sitting in a highchair he’s just about grown out of. “Do you know where she is?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glaring at him as he shrugs. 

Of course he isn’t going to tell. They look out for each other before anyone else, a fact that normally fills you with joy but not when they’re ganging up against you. Thankfully you catch his eye as he shoots a glance at the pantry. Pulling the door open you’re quickly met with the sight of Ruth, giggling on the floor. You pick her up, putting her in her own highchair before setting a plate of fruits down in front of her.

“Eat. We don’t have time to play this morning, young lady.” You poke your fork in her direction as you sit down across from them.

“Eat.” She repeats in a mocking tone, her brother erupting into a fit of giggles at the impression as you sigh. They need to be at the community center in half an hour. You make the job schedules on Friday and you need as much time as possible if you want to finish them in one day. You’re having a hard time focusing on the mess your son is making as he smashes each blueberry down onto the table before popping them into his mouth as you try to schedule your own weekend. 

You need to finish all of your work today while the kids are gone so you don’t have to juggle watching them and working later, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, scheduling should only take a few hours if you really zero in on it. You have dinner with Tommy and Maria tomorrow and you promised to bring dessert so you’ll have to take the kids to the market tonight, which also means you’re going to have to find supplies to barter with before you go. 

You have nothing planned on Sunday.

You’ll have to change that. 

You hate having nothing to do.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as a blueberry hits you in the forehead. Both twins laugh now as you frown at them. 

“Behave or I’ll tell your aunt that you’ve been bad.” Both children look at each other nervously before returning to their breakfast. You were never stern enough with them. You loved them too much, you couldn’t ever bring yourself to yell at them, and it wasn’t like they were troublemakers by any means, they were just kids with a lot of energy in the mornings. And when they did misbehave a small threat of telling Maria was enough to make them stop whatever it was they were doing. 

You finish up your own plate and start getting ready to leave as the kids start giggling again to themselves. When their plates are empty you use a wet washcloth to clean their hands and faces before lifting each of them out of their respective seats, letting them run off a bit more energy before you head out. You set all three bags down in front of the door. Yours being the beige over the shoulder bag accompanied by two little backpacks. Ruth’s green canvas bag is covered in mud and other remnants of the yard that she’s brought in with her but Arthur’s purple backpack is kept neat and tidy. You slip into your coat before turning just in time to watch your son dive into the couch, quickly followed by his sister. 

“Come on little ducks. Time for school.” You take their jackets off the hook, holding them out to them as they rush over to you, tugging their own coats on before grabbing their bags, once you pull the door open they both rush out into the cool autumn morning, talking to each other in hushed tones. Always secrets with those two. It would probably make you a little worried if these were normal circumstances, the way they don’t let anyone in except each other, with you being the only exception. But the world is a terrifying place, it brings you peace to know that they have each other. 

A part of you is certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle just one. 

One little person relying on you, all while you’re doing your best to hold it all together? It sounds like a nightmare. It’s better that they have each other. Once you’re standing outside the community center, busy with parents dropping off their children, you kneel down. 

“Be good, if you behave today you can go to the market tonight.” The promise of the market has both of them grinning, showing off the teeth they’ve both recently had grow in. “I love you, I’ll see you in a bit.” You hold open your arms, each of them taking their respective sides as they wrap themselves around you. You take your daughter's face in your hands before pressing a kiss to her forehead, repeating the motion with your son. After a few “love you mama’s” they both run into the building, once you’re sure they’re safe inside you head off in the direction of town hall. 

You have what you would call the best job in town, despite the fact that no one else seems to want to do it. 

Maria understood when you arrived that you needed something that let you work from home if needed, you needed something that kept your mind busy but also gave you time with the kids. So you took care of the parts of Jackson most didn’t think about. 

You document all of the citizens, you make the shift schedules, and you make sure everyone has the necessities. You take care of housing, when big hauls from scavenging come in you divide them up among the people who need them. You make the meal schedules for the dining hall, and you make the crop schedules. 

You keep Jackson moving. 

When you arrived all of this was Maria’s job along with her other duties, when you told her you wanted something engaging and demanding she was more than willing to pass off those duties to you. So now you’ve got to make the schedule. Town hall is nothing more than a house with several desks for people doing work similar to yours but thankfully you’ve been lucky enough to reserve your own office in one of the bedrooms. 

Most Friday's Maria visits you for lunch but you know she’s on patrol currently, another perk of this job is knowing where everyone is, all the time.

No surprises. 

You hate surprises. (With a few exceptions.)

One of the exceptions is waiting for you in your office, Tommy sits with his legs up on your desk, reading over this past week's schedule. 

“You put me on crop harvest way more than anyone else.” He grumbles, tossing your notebook down.

“It’s the end of the season, everyones on crop harvest.” You lean down, kissing his cheek before taking your place across from him, immediately getting to work as he groans. 

“Maria gets to go on patrol.” 

“Council gets first dibs on patrols during harvest season.” The tip of your favorite pen is dry so you quickly bring it to your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before you start writing out jobs for this upcoming week. The second he sees how many farming related jobs you’re listing he leans back in his chair, groaning and running his fingers through his dark curls. 

Today’s his day off. You always gave anyone doing more manual labor three days off instead of two. 

“I can get you on one patrol shift but they’re going to need your help with the corn.” You write his name in with the Monday and Tuesday patrol squad, filling in the rest of his week with harvest as he grins. 

“Thank you, darlin’.” He drawls. You hate that nickname, you hate that he isn’t the first to give it to you but you never complain, you’d let Tommy get away with murder at this point. It’s the least you can do considering everything he’s given you. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You’re only getting a two-day weekend next week.” You mumble, searching through the list of citizens, trying to pick out the people you know won’t mind the hard work. 

“Fine by me.” You have a complicated relationship with that smile of his. You can love it all you want but that doesn’t change the fact that it makes you uneasy, it doesn’t help that you’re starting to see that same smile in your son. 

“I was thinking about berry cobbler for tomorrow night.” Molly twisted her ankle last week, make sure she isn’t standing. You put her down for shucking corn, she can sit in the dining hall and work. 

“We have a bunch of extra sweet potatoes if you want to make sweet potato pie.” He takes your crop ledger, flipping through it, clearly not reading a thing. 

“Ruth hates sweet potatoes.” Marcus insists he’s capable of doing manual labor, his pride won’t let him act his age. You put him down for pushing the wheelbarrows, he won’t have to bend down to pick anything up but hopefully he’ll still feel like he’s doing enough. You’ve told him countless times that at his age he shouldn’t be working so hard but he always insists. 

“Shit, forgot about that. Maria might have some apples.” 

“I’ll stop by tonight before I take the kids to the market.” 

You’re thankful for Tommy.

He keeps your mind busy with conversation while you work, and he’s one of the only people you actually trust. By the time you’re almost done you know you need to go get the kids, with a conflicted glance at the clock you start to gather your things but Tommy beats you to it.

“I’ll go get them, Maria should be home from patrol soon, she’ll want to see them.” He’s already putting his coat on so you stay seated. 

“Are you sure?” You already know there’s no reason to argue, he’s stubborn, just like his brother. 

“It’s the least I can do to make up for bothering you all day.” He steps around the desk to give you a peck on the cheek before going to leave. “Just come by the house when you’re done, no rush.” And just like that he’s gone. 

You make quick work of your remaining duties. Finishing everything within a half an hour before heading out in the direction of the Miller’s farm house on the edge of town. It’s only a few houses away from your ranch house, a fact that you couldn’t be more grateful for, if it weren’t for Tommy and Maria you aren’t sure you’d have been able to handle those first few months of parenthood. Most people in town assumed Tommy must be the father purely based on how much effort he put into taking care of not only them, but you as well. As you make your way up their porch steps and into the living room you’re also reminded of the similarities. You can’t blame people for making assumptions, even Maria thought he was the father. The twins have his eyes, (which by association means that they also have his eyes, but you try not to dwell on that.) Ruth has your nose but Arthur has that Miller curve already starting to show on his little nose. Both little ones are sitting in the big recliner with their uncle as he tries to get them to settle down while he reads to them but the second they see you, both are scrambling out of the chair to hug your legs. 

And everything goes exactly how it’s supposed to. 

(Of course it does, you plan every day down to the minute.) 

You give Tommy the list of things you need along with a few things he can trade them for and he takes the kids down the street to the market as you sit at the kitchen counter, talking to Maria about her patrol. You had all planned to go to the market together but she’d insisted she was tired and you didn’t want her to be here alone so you stayed, helping her cook dinner. And you talked about all the things you knew you would, something cute the kids did, how her patrol went, what things you could put on the dining hall menu in the coming weeks. 

It’s all exactly how it should be. 

Until she frowns. 

“Are you busy Sunday?” You had sensed something was wrong with her but you assumed maybe she was just a little rattled coming off of a three day patrol. 

“No, did you need something?” You continue to chop up the sweet potatoes she now planned to use tonight instead of tomorrow. 

“We found a couple of strays, I thought maybe we could get them settled in.” 

Odd. 

Normally finding survivors would be the first thing she mentioned after returning, even stranger is the fact that she’d often waste no time getting them supplies and a home to make their own. But you're not one to question Maria’s judgment.

“Sure, we can do that Sunday morning.” You want to ask questions about it but she’s already changed the subject to doing a clothing drive at the community center so you don’t press. Despite the way the look on her face is bothering you.

It wasn’t fear, or discomfort, or something you could explain away with the excuse of the strays being off putting or violent. 

It’s a look of pity. 

As if she feels bad for even asking. 

It unsettles you enough to leave it be. Making idle chit chat with her until Tommy returns with the twins and you take them home. It unsettles you as you make your own dinner, as you give the twins a bath, and as you help them into their pajamas and read them a story. It never leaves your mind. 

“Goodnight Ruthie.” You lean down to kiss her forehead, watching her eyes flutter shut as she continues to fight sleep. Always the stubborn one. 

“Night Mama.” You take the stuffed bear from the foot of her bed, tucking it in beside her before quietly standing, walking across the room to your son's bed. 

“Goodnight Arthur.” You lean down, kissing both of his rosy cheeks, he doesn’t fight sleep the way his sister does. So similar but so different. 

“Goodnight Mama.” His little voice has the same southern drawl you know he’s been picking up from Tommy. 

“I love you, little ducks.” You smile at him, turning to see that Ruth is already asleep, you tuck in the blankets around Arthur before leaving, keeping the door cracked open a bit so the light from the kitchen can act as a night light. 

God, you're tired. 

You’re quick to shower and slip into your own pajamas, crawling into bed with a yawn. You take the book from your nightstand, flipping through until you find where you left off yesterday. 

You never really know what’s going on in the books you read, they serve a singular purpose and it isn’t entertainment. 

You read until you fall asleep, they’re just a distraction to keep your mind busy with thoughts so he can’t sneak in right before you fall asleep and embed himself in your dreams. 

It works.

Your dreams never feature him. 

They aren’t good dreams by any means, they’re wild. Often of your journey to Jackson, the fear you felt then. But you’ll take that over Joel any day. Tonight isn’t any different, your sleep is restless as you fight the memories of fighting for survival in those woods, but instead of your usual nightmares of infected hunting you through the trees you’re faced with a sight that somehow makes you even more uneasy than the living dead.

The look on Maria’s face when she told you about the two strays. 

support me on kofi!!

a/n : this fic has been bouncing around in my brain for months now and it feels so fucking good to finally start it omfg. sorry if this felt a little slow, i really needed to set a tone and a base for the story, sorry!!

[mochinomnoms]

Mochi, I absolutely adore how you portray the Leech parents. They remind me low-key of Gomez and Morticia Addams from the Addams family. (or just the whole Leech family in general reminds me of the Addams family)

So I was wondering if I could ask for some more headcanons of yours about the Leech parents? Like personality or how they met and stuff.

Drop the lore, Mochi, drop the lore.

Yes! It's what I keep in mind cause I feel like it fits!

For the Leech parents, I change it up a bit cause my headcanon is that the Leech family is a matriarch, so the head is actually Mama Leech and not Papa. I think she's very good at networking and building a rapport with the people and communities around her, which is actually an important factor if we want to go with the headcanon that the Leeches are involved in organized crime. She's very sociable, but was a bit of a menace during her youth.

She got into a lot of trouble and saw doctors often because of it, which is why she's so much of a worrywart with her sons, she's worried that the same might happen to them. Still, she's highly respected by the communities she works with and it's well known that if you want protections, Mrs. Leech is the way to go.

It's up to her if she wants to send muscle, money, or any support to you if you ask, and you better be willing to offer up something in return. Usually this can mean giving the family some of your profits if you're a business, offering your services for cheap prices if you're a lawyer or doctor, or offering up your business as a center for Leech networking and meetings.

Papa Leech married into the family and took their name, but people who only look at the surface level would assume he's the head. He's big, intimidating, and has a temper. He's very fond of his wife and chased after her for ages, so he's known for being persistent, but was actually very well-behaved growing up. If you were to ask people he grew up with, they would say that he looks scary, but once you knew him it was like a switch flipped. He was fun to hang around and dependable, and rarely got into trouble.

The reality is that he never got caught, as he was very curious about the criminal underworld. He was a bit big to be sneaky, and got caught a few times following employees of the Leech family until they got sick of him and threatened him to either get in the program or scram off. He was going to mind his business, but once he caught sights of his future wife, it was love at first sight and he was caught in her claws.

When he became involved with the business, he took on the role of an enforcer, allowing his wife to focus on increasing the family's reputation among common merfolk. He tends to be the one most involved with the underworld, taking his wife's word as gospel and ensuring that people followed her rules. He gets his hands dirty so that she doesn't have to.

[phoenixblaze1412]

can i request a fem reader who has a terrible moodswing during her period? i couldn't help but imagine dottore getting yelled at by reader because of her mood hehe, also, how will dottore handle the situation?

-🧊

Code Red.

Every segment knows of this. An event that happens every month and usually lasts for a week. Yes, their darling's monthly period pain.

Dottore is already aware of it. He was the one who made the code after all.

He would already have the medicine and painkillers that you may need to help suppress those cramps you have to endure. Ibuprofen, naproxen, aspirin and the like. All prepared and organised in a certain shelf titled 'For Pain/Cramps' just in case needed.

Ah, ah, ah. You are not eating various sugary treats or those cravings you want. The only treat you can consume is dark chocolate. Dottore explained that said product has magnesium that can also help alleviate your pain. Doctor's orders after all.

Dottore usually wouldn't be bothered when others would scream at him. But hearing your voice curse and yell at him would make him flinch. He knows it's part of your mood swings and it's normal but sometimes he would be overthinking some of the words you would say until you had to force it outta him during your post-period state.

If Dottore is busy in his laboratory or on a mission while you're on your period, he would send some of his segments to take care of you.

Dottore made sure to write a list of things needed for you and to take note of your mood swings because each emotion or reaction you show has various meanings that the segment has to understand to be able to handle the situation.

The segments, mostly the younger ones during Dottore's pre-fatui era, would be panicking over you. They read the notes given to them, yes. But did they understand? Absolutely not. They haven't taken care of you like this before but they were the ones ordered by Dottore himself to take care of you since they were available.

The segments even suggested of immediately putting you in the operating room right when they saw the blood staining your sheets and coming from down there. They thought that one of your organs must have popped and could require medical treatment immediately.

Dottore had to step in and rescue you right after Omega informed him that you were about to have surgery just because of some measly blood. He couldn't blame his segments for being so idiotic, he once thought you had an internal bleeding that he didn't examined carefully when he first found out about your period.

After that incident, he decided to hold a small meeting between himself and his segments and informed them of your monthly pain. He made sure the segments don't even bother to think of trying anything else to fix you other than follow the instructions he laid out when your menstrual cycle arrives.

Dottore may have forgot to inform them about the mood swings.

Later on, he found his segments sulking in the corner of your room with a hurt look plastered across their faces.

"..never have I seen a woman become so scary..."

"I blame you for this, Gamma."

"I didn't do anything! I was only giving her the medicine! Besides, Epsilon was supposed to bake treats for her."

"She already ate them all!"

"Enough of your chatter and stand up. She's acting like that because of her mood swings. It's part of her monthly cycle. So stop whining and get to work."

Yes, Dottore wrote down every little thing needed to do whenever you had your period but he left out a certain thing. Affections.

Any simple act of physical affection that he would initiate is already enough to keep you stable. From cuddles to forehead and cheek kisses all the way to whispering sweet words into your ear is enough to stop your mood swings from going haywire.

He wouldn't let his other segments know about it, just because they're him from different time periods doesn't mean he would let them give you affections. How ironic of him to be jealous of himself.

Nonetheless, when it comes to you, you are his and his alone.

[ajaxless]

Doctor Harper being like...The "grown up" version of Kylar. Got sent to the psych ward for being a little too silly (went yandere) and hypnotized everyone into letting him out. Could you fucking imagine how scary that would be to be his (former?) Darling?

Harper as your dweeb classmate. Always has his nose tucked in a book, usually shows up to school with bruises, you can't tell if it's from his home life or from the bullies. You end up taking pity on the poor guy and get into the habit of taking him to the nurse at school to get him ice packs and bandaids. Over time Harper comes out of that quiet and polite facade and brags to anyone that will listen that the two of you are lovers. Except, no, you're not, you never would have agreed to such a thing. Sure, it's sweet that he walks you to each and every class you have and insists on carrying your books, but you never saw him in that light. You were just being kind! He got the wrong idea.

So, when Harper makes you lunch after you forgot yours at home, you don't think twice about it, typical Harper! Harper babbles on about how he's been studying how to become a doctor. That way, you two won't have to rely on the school nurse anymore. Maybe you could be his nurse? You could stay by his side all day while he works and dote on him as his lovely assistant!

Unfortunately for you, you don't get to correct him because the drugs he slipped in knocked you out before he could finish. Harper mumbles something about skipping the chapter on sedatives in his textbook and drags you home. Nobody thinks twice to stop him, most people don't even notice him.

Cue basement scene similar to Kylar's, except Harper is less paranoid and panicked. I think he'd just be delusional and convinced that the two of you are together. Defiant! Darling could resist him and snap him out of the delusional state, only to send him into a fit of anger. Submissive / compliant! Darling goes along with it out of pity / fear.

Here are some things I imagine when being abducted by Harper

He never yells and constantly refers to you by a pet name and never your actual name. In his eyes, your name is like...The main piece of your identity. By stripping it from you, he's stripping you from who you are as a person in order to brainwash you into thinking your entire life revolves him. You are his darling. Nothing more, nothing less.

When you deny him, he probably just ignores it or smiles at you while pretending you said something else. Creepy bastard will respond out loud to an imaginary conversation he had with you. Example: Harper tries to feed you, and you spit food in his face, only for him to grin and say that he thinks the food tastes good too, then thanks you for sharing. Says things like "I love you too" even when you didn't actually say anything. If you point out that you didn't say anything, he just gives you a funny look like you're the crazy one here. I live with the idea of PC spitting in his face and Harper responding by taking two fingers, gathering the spit on them, then sucking the spit off and groaning.

Harper doesn't think other people are going to hurt you / take you away and he doesn't want to keep you safe. I think he'd hurt you on purpose just so he can take care of you like you used to take care of him at school. That and out of revenge for being rejected. He doesn't feel threatened by other people because he's delusional and convinced it wouldn't be possible for you to like anyone else. Never ever takes his jealousy out on you. You're just too dumb for your own good, silly little thing.

Harper absolutely tries gaslighting you so he can be the "sane" boyfriend that takes care of you. You're just crazy, ahaha, your memory is soooo terrible. Thats not how it happened. Harper never said that. Have you been taking your medicine?

That Kylar event where they pull a knife to your throat, but this time it's just Harper showing off a new needle that may or may not contain an aphrodisiac. He might just have to "test" to see what's in the syringe. I mean, unless you can convince him not to inject you by having sex with him. Either way, You're going to get fucked. With or without the aphrodisiac is up to you.

Harper's cooking is actually good. Made specifically to be healthy and have all the vitamins and nutrients you need. Only downside is he sometimes spits in the food :( might even do it right in front of you and then laughs it off. Says it's like indirectly kissing you and it's no big deal, he always does this and has been since you let him make you lunches at school. Hearing this is ++stress

Harper doesn't write you songs, instead he makes poetry. You can't read the poems, his handwriting is terrible. (Haha, get it? Cus he's a doctor?)

Forced cuddle sessions, I can feel it. Also a messy kisser. Drools everywhere and giggles the entire time. I think Harper is a humper, cums in his pants all the time

There are two ways to escape:

Resist Harper enough until he gets frustrated and tries to get manipulate you into behaving by guilt tripping you. Harper injures himself in a minor way and insists you take care of him like you used to at school, telling you to go upstairs and get ice from his freezer...Only for you to bolt out the front door instead

Or by screaming until the neighbors hear and the cops come to investigate. Screaming only works at night, and you have to do it five times in a row when given the ability to do it. This sucks because it makes you lose a turn, and you can't resist Harper whichs lead to a noncon encounter

Either way, by the end of it Harper gets arrested. He abducted you and had a lab that made stimulants / pepper spray / sedatives and kept stealing ingredients from the pharmacy downtown. Either he gets arrested for his stash of illegal drugs / weapons or he gets arrested for a ducting you. They determine he's insane or he goes to court and pleads not guilty by insanity.

You go a few years without seeing or hearing from him, believing he'll rot in jail forever and move on with your life. Then you find out your doctor retired and have to head to the hospital to fill out paperwork to change who your primary doctor should be, and wouldn't you know it? Harper's name is one of the options. Obviously, you don't want him to be your new doctor, but either way, he just forges the paperwork and makes you his patient.

You get called in for an appointment per usual, expecting a new doctor and Harper walks in with that stupid smile while clutching a clipboard with your medical history on it. You try to resist, but a bunch of nurses come in and restrain you and tie you to the table with leather straps that were hidden under the mattress. The entire time Harper just watches with a smile.

I think Harper would immediately confess that he's not a real doctor. He never went to school or graduated. He would've, but you got him arrested. He starts bragging about how he hypnotized your old doctor and took his place to escape, then realized he had a lot of authority and began doing whatever he wanted. Shortly after, he discovered that you still lived in town and jumped on the opportunity to get you back.

There's no harm in telling you this. Because who would believe you? You're crazy.

"Scream as much as you like, my love. The neighbors won't hear you this time."

[creative-clawmarks]

So I wanna talk paralytics and paralysis in regards to Alex's venom (bc I like going on random science deep dives) SO- as I understand it- there are a few different types of paralytics which affect different bodily functions via different methods, but when most people think of temporary paralysis, they think of neuromuscular paralysis, which is what doctors use during surgeries, and some species of jellyfish and snake use to be absolutely terrifying.

Neuromuscular agents won't knock a person out or prevent pain, they just prevent movement. The problem here is that the diaphragm is a skeletal muscle and is affected by neuromuscular paralysis, meaning that without a ventilator or another breathing apparatus, suffocation is practically guaranteed. Really this applies to all neuromuscular agents/neurotoxins.

Here's the interesting thing I found however- Tick Paralysis, which doesn't always affect breathing. Usually starts out as acute ataxia (muscle weakness) and can progress to muscular paralysis if the tick isn't removed. While tick paralysis is also caused by a neurotoxin, my guess is that because ticks are so small the venom isn't particularly potent, and they don't produce a ton of it.

For Alex's venom to not outright kill via asphyxiation, the potency would probably have to be low enough to allow for diaphragm movement (though probably still weakened) but high enough to trap prey, which is a hell of a needle to thread. That, or it's a neurotoxin that specifically avoids effecting the diaphragm, which doesn't really exist as far as I know (then again, vampires don't either)

TL:DR - Neurotoxins are scary as hell and it's likely that someone envenomed by Alex would experience weakened breathing, if not outright suffocation.

(there's a 2008 movie called The Burrowers where the monsters use a venom that effectively causes Locked-in syndrome, but the science is kinda iffy. Roanoke Gaming as a video on it)

You've given me the perfect opportunity to go into depth on this.

So there's this trope I see in vampire stories where something about the vampire's bite makes it so their victims don't struggle. Usually this is due to supernatural influence, a charm or compulsion that makes the bite pleasant instead of painful.

But I wanted the bite to be painful, and more than that I wanted just the idea of being bitten to be terrifying. So I though, what is something naturally occurring that makes it so that something can't move but can still feel pain?

Why, paralytic venom of course!

(I then proceeded to do zero research lol.)

With this new information I can confidently say that, yes, Alex's venom is a neuromuscular paralytic. It makes it so that his prey cannot escape but leaves them conscious and able to feel pain. It does not, however, bring a risk of asphyxiation, because if Alex is going to kill someone I want it to be on purpose. I suppose that means his venom doesn't target the respiratory system, which considering we're talking about fictional monsters I'm gonna say we can suspend our disbelief here.

Humans stand basically no chance against something like that, but other monsters could fight if off much faster due to their regenerative abilities. That's how Tim survived Entry 56/57, Alex was banking on his venom to keep Tim down but instead he shook it off and managed to flee. He would've gotten away if it weren't for the Operator.

Ok, that should be everything...

"But wait!" I hear you cry, "If Alex's venom is super scary and not at all pleasant, then why does Jay like getting bitten by him?"

Because Jay is a freak. Next question.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

KO-FI

[silent-stories]

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: You visit Eddie at the hospital after the demobats incident.

Warnings: just fluff

You peeked into the dark hospital room with a smile on your face, trying to hide the horrible sensation you'd been feeling relentlessly for the previous few hours, waiting for a doctor or nurse to come out to tell you if Eddie was going to be okay. If he was still alive.

You were really scared that he could have died, that you would lose him and you never thought you could feel this way about someone you've known for so little time.

"Hey" You said walking into the room towards his bed. He was wearing one of those awful sort of dressing gowns that hospitals usually supplied, part of his face was covered in scratches and he had a tired expression drawn on his face. Even if you couldn't see it, you were sure that his torso and chest were covered in bloody bandages. "How are you feeling?"

Stupid question, maybe, but "I'm so glad you're alive I could cry right now" seemed too profound.

He looked smaller than usual, without his leather jacket and jeans with chains, more vulnerable without the clothes to helped him keep up the tough guy facade. Some people would say he looked less scary that way but Eddie never looked scary to you.

"Good enough for someone who almost died" he replied when his big brown eyes landed on you, an almost surprised expression painted on his face "You stayed."

"Of course I stayed" You said "we all stayed but then it got really late and the kids had to go home and they needed someone to drive them, so now Steve is also a chauffeur as well as a babysitter."

"Late? What time is it now?" He asked and you caught on to the fact that he had no idea how long it had been since he lost consciousness.

"It's almost four."

"In the morning?" he asked incredulously. You nodded.

"Jesus Christ Y/N, go home, please, I-"

"I haven't waited all these hours for you to send me home, Munson." You cut him off in a tone a little too harsh. You absolutely didn't want him to think he was a burden, you stayed because you wanted to be there for him. You had the impression that not many people were there for him, usually.

"Can I sit?" You asked then, softening a bit and pointing to the space next to him on the bed, he just nodded before silence fell between you.

You're sure at some point you let out a sigh of relief, after all that had happened you were grateful to know that Eddie was going to be okay and that everything was going to be fixed, somehow. Now that Hopper was back you were sure that if you and your friends explained the whole situation to him he would help you and be able to prove that Eddie was innocent.

"Can I ask you something?" he said after a few moments.

This time it was you who nodded.

"Why are you still here? I mean, you stayed even after everyone left, you're still covered in blood, you must be really tired and dying to sleep. So why did you stay?" He asked looking down, playing with the rings on his fingers.

You sighed. "We're friends. I care about you. I didn't want you to be alone when you woke up. After everything that's happened to you lately, you don't deserve to be alone. You didn’t even before."

He just looked at you like you were something weird or saying the craziest thing he's ever heard.

"We are friends." he muttered, repeating your words as if you had said nonsense.

"Of course we are." You tried to read his expression but you couldn't figure out where he was trying to say.

Didn't he want you to be friends or wasn't he used to people treating him like one? Had anyone even told him they were his friends? Did anyone ever tell him he wasn't a freak and didn't deserve even half of the bad things that had happened in his life? you find yourself thinking.

"Yeah, sure. I'm sorry. It's just that it's weird you know? A few days ago I never thought that a girl like you could even talk to someone like me and then everything happened and now you're here at tell me we're friends. It's weird, but it's- it's cool. Really. I'm glad you are here, Y/N." He finished the sentence with a chuckle.

You weren't exactly one of those considered "popular" at school, but certainly no one ever stopped you in the hallway to yell insults or you never found the words "freak" and "murderer" engraved on your locker.

Did Eddie really think you wouldn't be on his side just because he was considered one of the "outcasts"?

"No, you're right." You replied "I wouldn't talk to someone like you because there's no one else like you, Eddie. That's why I like you. The way people in Hawkins talk about you isn't fair. You are not mean or scary. You are not bad. Bad at school yes, but a bad person? No way. And you also almost died to save our asses."

He laughed and looked down. "It was metal though."

You couldn't help but smile and shake your head at his comment. "It was. But never try to do something like that ever again."

"Thanks Y/N." He added then.

"For what?"

"For everything. For being my friend. For staying."

You just nodded and reached out to grab his hand, his rings were a little cold against your skin, but you didn't really mind because as soon as you did that, a smile appeared on his lips.

Silence fell between you again -and probably also in all the rest of the hospital given the time- but it wasn't an awkward silence, it was calm, pleasant and somehow intimate.

The last thing you remember before sleep overtook you is Eddie's hand lazly playing with your fingers and yours drawing imaginary circles on the back of his.

"You think... that they're like together-together?" Mike asked Dustin the next day. Both were in front of the hospital bed, watching you and Eddie sleep next to each other. Eddie's arm was around you to hold you close to him, like he was afraid that if he didn't you'd disappear.

"Nah, they're just friends." Dustin answered with a note of doubt in his voice. He was a little mad at you for not calling to tell him Eddie was fine, but maybe now he understood why you didn’t. You and Eddie were like him and Suzie, just more disgusting.

"Mh, I'm not sure. Friends don't act like that, man."

[sunflowergraves]

Unpacking Will Solace’s Character

I’ve seen a lot of Will Solace hate since TSATS and it’s really starting to bother me. As a person that relates heavily to Will’s character, it’s upsetting to see him get bashed across the internet, especially considering we’ve never actually gotten to know his character. Personally, I feel like a lot of people are basing his character around headcanons and fanfiction (which I am guilty of) and were disappointed when he wasn’t who we saw him as. 

It doesn’t help that the only time we got to see Will’s POV it was short and through the eyes of others. He’s also not this big hero like all the characters in the PJO universe. His powers aren’t that strong, he’s not a prophecy child, and his talents are mediocre. Will is the most human demigod we’ve ever been introduced to. I can understand why his character doesn’t feel multi-dimensional compared to everyone else, but in my opinion, he was fleshed out very well. 

Yes, there are a few things I was disappointed by. I wish they talked about Will’s past more and his grief over his dead siblings. I wanted him to have his own weapon, even if it was an old bow he never used or a lyre like Apollo used in TOA. But I will always love that they changed him from the calm, collected counselor healer to an anxious, depressed, self-doubting person because it fits him so well. How could he not feel these things after losing friends and family? After being abandoned by everyone around him? Or being forced to take on the caretaker role of the entire camp because he was the only one left? 

I’m going to continue this down below, so if you don’t want major spoilers for TSATS, don’t continue reading. Also this is long as hell in case you just want to skim. 

Every time Will was mentioned in the books, it was from someone else’s POV and it was a few lines at best. 

Will has always been described as the cool, relaxed, go-with-the-flow type of guy. He was the person with a level head and knew exactly what to do. But guess what? Underneath that cool exterior was an anxiety riddled people pleaser who threw himself at every problem because that’s what he was told to do. The Apollo cabin was always the head medic team. After Lee and Michael died, Will was basically thrust into that position of power. He was trusted to take care of his younger siblings, trusted to take care of the entire camp. If he let them down, it was going to cost lives. Of course he’s going to be scared and nervous, but he can’t show that. Would you want a doctor with shaky hands and sweat running down their neck? Would you want to be taken care of by a person who doubted and second guessed themselves out in the open? 

As someone who was given a lot of responsibly and forced to grow up at a young age, I completely understand this. You want to try to make everything better for others around you, you get scared when you fuck up, and you HATE when people can’t rely on you. That’s why you will never show how scared you are to fuck up. You will never let people get inside your head because if they can’t rely on you, what good are you? Breaking out of the role that everyone else gave you because they trusted you is scary and hard. 

Nico is probably the only person who knows what Will really thinks. Will trusts Nico with his anxiety and overthinking because he’s comfortable enough around him to show that side. He knows he doesn’t have to Mr. Hero in front of Nico and that’s such a precious and important bond to make with someone. 

Will was valid for being whiny and irritated for most of the book. 

First, Will has ANXIETY. If you don’t know what it’s like to live with anxiety, count yourself lucky. It feels like your thoughts are attacking you constantly. It’s like an uphill battle between rational thought and absolute chaos. I can’t get in my car without thinking of all the ways I could die before I buckle my seatbelt. Imagine going to SuperHell for the first time in your life! Not only that, but people told Will constantly that as a child of Apollo he was basically fucked. The three strongest demigods that made it back almost went insane! Of course Will is going to be upset, irrational, irritated, and uncomfortable. 

In TOA, he voiced several times how he thought it was a bad idea and that he really didn’t like it. This is not a new thing for Will’s character at all. For him to be willing to cross a line he had made concrete shows that he loves and cares for Nico. But that shouldn’t mean he isn’t allowed to be uncomfortable. 

Second, for anyone saying he could have stayed at camp instead of going has never sacrificed their comfort for someone else. There are so many instances in my life where I went way out of my comfort zone because I knew my friends/family wanted me there. Did I complain? Hell yes. Did I still do it? Hell yes! If Will had said, “Nico, I can’t do this and I refuse to at least try,” I would have lost so much respect for his character. Instead he sucked it up, even when he was already practically dying before they got there. 

Three, Will was worried about Nico. He’s never experienced Tartarus, he’s never been to the Underworld. While Will has definitely faced his share of demons, he’s never stood in Nico’s shoes. So when his boyfriend is having vivid nightmares and hearing voices, he’s going to try and rationalize it for Nico because that’s what he has done his entire life. Will is the “healer.” He is supposed to fix things, not let them traipse off to hell like it’s a vacation spot. 

Four, this is a 15 year old. Fuck, even now at the ripe ole age of 20, I’d still be shaking in my boots terrified at the thought of going somewhere that is practically a jailhouse for the worst creatures in creation. Will has little to no experience on the field (He ran from six guards without even trying to pull out a weapon. The worst thing he’s ever said to his enemies was “anemic loser” and didn’t even want to kill Octavian. Every battle before that he had an older sibling to look up to and care for him). So yeah, I’d just be a tad bit nervous and annoying.  

Will asking Persephone how to love someone from the Underworld was honest and raw. 

This scene broke me in ways I can’t even describe because of how real it felt. If you’ve ever been in a deep and caring relationship (friendship counts) you should understand. Like Persephone said, love is something you choose and it’s complicated and messy even for people who were practically made for each other. For Will to ask how to love someone from the Underworld shows that he is actively choosing to understand and love Nico. 

I get that most people interpret Will’s lines as “How do you love someone so filled with death?” but really he’s asking how do you love someone who acts like he doesn’t want to be loved? How do you love someone that pulls away from your light no matter how desperately you try to give it them? How do you love someone who hides parts of themselves from you? 

Will is a healer, he fixes things. It’s not until this scene that Will realizes the only thing Will needs to fix is his perspective on Nico. That darkness and hurt and trauma is okay. It’s also a scene where Will realizes he doesn’t have to force down his own trauma anymore. 

Will loves Nico and it’s so obvious he scared to lose him. He thinks he’s weak and broken and incapable of helping Nico escape his trauma. His insecurities shadow him and he’s confused about how to navigate this relationship because he thinks he needs to be the leader. How can he lead if Nico won’t let him? How can he help when he doesn’t know how? Persephone’s scene was Will’s chance of finding guidance from someone who could understand exactly what he’s thinking

People in their late 40′s still can’t get relationships down. Why are we pushing unrealistic relationship ideations on a 15 year old who doesn’t even know who he is yet?

Will was not useless. 

Sorry that the relationship duo isn’t Mr. Badass and Mr. Badass 2.0. Will not being a fighter is refreshing to see because honestly I’m quite tired of seeing badass couples in every book/movie. Not everyone is strong and powerful and super awesome. Will is a nerd that likes healing people. Why isn’t that enough? 

“He’s described as having muscles,” “He’s a field/combat medic,” “He fought in the wars,” “He carries people all the time,” “He trains with the Apollo cabin.” Okay and? I was raised to work hard and protect myself. I work out and I know how to use a bow and knife. Does that mean I want to? No. 

I’d also like to point out that almost everyone in camp is described as having muscles. You kind of have to when your life motto is Try not to die or get eaten. Also they train on lava walls, jump eight foot pits, and weapons. I get a little bit of muscle going on my silly little walks, I’d be fucking jacked if I was actively training. 

Second, Will has never once been described fighting monsters/demigods. I don’t doubt that he’s had a few encounters, but the boy practically specializes in RUNNING AWAY. He’s a feral little animal that finds injured demigods and sprints them away to the medic center while occasionally bashing monster heads in. He’s strong because he needs to be, not because he wants to be. Strength also doesn’t equal battle prowess. 

Not to mention, he hates killing! He didn’t want to kill Octavian despite Octavian being the actual worst. He runs away as a distraction even though he had weapons on him. He got upset when Nico threw Sherman Yang out of the chariot in TOA. Monsters are different, but monsters are also scary. Will is terrified of demon pigeons, you really think he’s willingly gonna go one-on-one with anything bigger than his pinky? 

I’ll admit, I hated that he didn’t have a weapon in Tartarus. I thought it was really stupid and out-of-character because my anxious ass would have loaded up. Still, it was kind of funny when they described Will bashing rocks over monster’s heads during their fight with Nyx. 

My final point for this: Will was Nico’s support system and that was the point. Will knew he wasn’t going to throw hands with anyone. He went because he knew Nico needed him even when Nico told him to stay. Will was going to trek through SuperHell with the love of his life and hold his hand to remind him that he was loved. Will wanted Nico to know that he’d literally go to Hell and back for him and that’s what mattered. 

Nico didn’t ask Will to be the Hero. Nico states several times that the reason he loves Will is because he wants to heal and he’s so stubborn to find the good in everything. And that’s exactly what Will did. He offered support, care, and reminders. He was going to understand and love Nico, even through the darkest parts of his life. 

Will is one of the best support systems in a PJO couple duo. 

It makes me incredibly sad to see people call Will toxic when he gave his entire life to support Nico. I won’t deny that he complained a lot and said hurtful things and that he occasionally belittles Nico’s feelings. But Will didn’t know he was doing those things. He thought he was helping Nico navigate his PTSD. How is someone who is still emotionally developing his own character supposed to know how to take care of someone else’s? 

Will also clearly showed love and affection towards Nico. He met all his friends and was polite to them even when they looked scary. Will risked his life several times before they got to Tartarus and still insisted on continuing. Built a Minecraft house for his boyfriend and left him a KitKat bar because he knew he would feel fatigued (also Will brought KitKat bars, meaning he was already thinking of Nico’s health beforehand). He tried to be useful by scouting ahead because he felt like he was being a burden on Nico. He kissed him, called him silly nicknames, hugged him, respected his boundaries (asking to hold him instead of trying to comfort him immediately), and oh yeah, went to Tartarus when he was obviously quaking in his flipflops. 

He also helped Bob when he had no idea who/what he was, comforted Nico when he was beginning to lose hope, acknowledged his mistakes and admitted he needed to try harder, realized he didn’t need to fix Nico and that his boyfriend was perfect the way he was, and learned that Nico wasn’t going to leave him. 

Love is complicated. Love is something you choose. And Will chooses to love Nico. Also for everyone saying a year is long enough to learn/realize these problems already and have them solved, you need to take the rose tinted glasses off. I’ve been with my partner for almost four years, and I’m still learning things about our relationship. We argue, we don’t always meet eye-to-eye. Our own trauma and experiences surface and it gets difficult. But do we just call it quits and throw everything into the trash? No. We talk, we problem-solve, we come back and try to understand each other even if we don’t know how to do that. A year is nothing. A year is puppy love and excitement. It’s like your favorite movie on repeat. All the problems are ignored because you don’t want to see them yet. 

So for a pair of 15 year old's who just came to terms with their sexuality, I think that they are doing pretty damn good at this love thing. 

Anyway, that’s all I really wanted to say. Even though we’ve had Will for years, we’ve never gotten to know his true character until now. It’s raw and weird and doesn’t fit the mold of Will Solace, son of Apollo we all created him to be. You can still hate his character or whatever, I’m not going to try to change your mind. But don’t hate on everyone else who loves him and loves this book. 

[darksigns-exe]

dad omens - nick folio

word count: 1.1k

Jolly Ruffilo Noah

You meet Folio after a show. It’s a quick arrangement – a rushed number in a dressing room. You’re both young and a little foolish, protection isn’t something you think about, and really you’re not too worried about it either. 

You pay the price when you miss your period. You push it off at first, assuming that it’s just late. But then it’s really late and panic sets in. Eventually, you convince yourself that it’s time to take a test – or multiple. 

When the first one comes back positive, you still have a shred of hope that maybe it’s a false positive.

But as the stack of tests grows on your bathroom counter, the realisation slowly settles in. 

This is happening. 

There’s only real possibility for the who and the when. 

A small, cramped bathroom with a pretty boy drummer, a good three months back. 

You give yourself a week to think about what you want. The options are there, Planned Parenthood is only a drive away, but the more you think about it, the more you realise that maybe this is a good thing. 

Sure, this isn’t how you thought it would be, but you also can’t bring yourself to make the decision to terminate. 

Telling him would be a different thing entirely. You can’t exactly text or call, so Instagram will have to do. Naturally, you don’t kick the door in with the news. And only when you’ve established that he remembers the encounter positively do you break it to him. 

The minutes in which the little speech bubble that indicates that Nick is typing flashes up just to disappear again are agonising. It’s scary. Just because you’re okay with this, doesn’t mean that he is. 

Can I call you? 

The phone call that follows is, as far as you can tell, very open and honest. Nick is very quick to make clear that he believes you and that, while he maybe doesn’t feel ready for that kind of responsibility just yet, he’ll give you whatever support you need. 

You keep him updated on your doctor's appointments, keep him in the loop when things change. The decision to move a little closer to him was an easy one, his family had offered to help where they could, and you can’t really turn an offer like that down. 

Nick is away on tour for a good chunk of your pregnancy. When he’s at home, he helps you turn the spare room of the place you’ve just moved to into a nursery. You’ve settled on neutral colours, simply because you don’t know what you’re expecting yet. After a day of assembling furniture and painting walls — with appropriate breaks — you find yourself posted up on the sofa. He’s ordered pizza for you to share, and it almost feels as if you’re more than just two people trying to navigate this new thing. 

He’s incredibly helpful throughout all of this. When getting out of the house for things like groceries starts to become a burden he’s there in an instant, he’s driving you to appointments, makes sure that you’re well taken care of. Midnight snack craving? If he’s at home, he’s at your door in no time. 

The first time he gets to hold his daughter is actually adorable. He has absolutely no idea what he’s doing, but it’s obvious that that little girl has a very special place in his heart. He doesn’t even try to hide the tears that well up in his eyes. This is a big moment — whether he’s ready for it or not. And he’ll step up and do what he needs to make sure that you, and your daughter, are taken care of. 

He stays at your place during the first few weeks after you come home. You do feel a little bit bad about him sleeping on your couch for that long, but he doesn’t seem to mind it too much. He’s up before you are to make breakfast and get things into order. And while it maybe takes him a moment longer to really feel comfortable taking care of your daughter on his own, he eventually figures it out. Watching him get more and more secure in this role is one of your favourite things. You love watching him have little conversations with her while he prepares the bottle.

It’s a steep learning curve for the both of you, but you manage to do quite alright.

And after basically co-parenting your child for the first two years of her life, you're standing in front of an entirely different question. 

You’ve been doing this big thing together, you feel incredibly safe and loved around him — why aren’t you taking it further then? You’ve fallen into this comfortable rhythm together, and really the only thing that’s missing from your relationship is the intimacy. Sure, you’ve found yourself curled up against his side when it all becomes too much, but it never went further than that. You don’t find the courage to ask that question until the evening after your daughter's second birthday. A day of wrangling family and friends has once again show you how good of a team you actually are. When he joins on the patio after tucking your baby in for the night, you finally dare to ask if he could ever see you as more. And the rest is history because, as it turns out, Nick has been building himself up to ask you the same question.

As your baby grows up and Nick grows more comfortable in his role as a father, the two of them become even closer. He has the greatest time listening to her babble, and tries his hardest to make her giggle. He’ll have her placed on front of him on his bike, mimicking the sound of it, just to make her laugh. While she’s still too young to paint her own nails – but old enough to ask for it – he does it for her. And when she’s old enough to hold the little brush, you’ll sometimes find them doing each other's nails. 

Following in her dads footsteps, your daughter is an absolute outside gremlin. She comes home caked in mud frequently, and she loves accompanying her dad on fishing trips. She has the greatest time being a girl scout, and Nick gets only a tiny bit competitive when it comes to the cookie sales. His baby is going to number on that ranking no matter what. 

He loves taking his kid on little adventures, and really it shouldn’t have come as a shock to you when they come home with a box of puppies one day. Most of them are homed with other people, but the tiniest one stays with your little family. 

To your surprise, Nick, the guy who just a few years ago told you that he wasn’t ready to be dad yet, is the one who brings up the idea of a second kid.

[ash5monster01]

You’ll Be Okay

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x FemReader

Warnings: self doubt, language, mentions of trauma, established relationship, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of suicide

Summary: Charlie absolutely breaking down when you tell him you’re pregnant which is the complete opposite of the reaction you had expected.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: for my Charlie girlies, I know it’s been a while but hopefully this holds you over <3

Masterlist

The bundle of nerves in your stomach was becoming too much to bear. This was visible as you nervously bounced your leg in the waiting room of the doctors office. Everything was so white and your heart rate was starting to pick up. You weren’t normally a fan of doctors but you felt you had justified reasons for your visit. Considering you period was late, you woke up queasy every morning, and your emotions seemed to be heightened, so it gave you all the excuses in the world. It also made sense because you and Charlie had agreed to stop using protection a few months ago. You had discussed being ready for kids and not wanting to rush into pregnancy, so you stopped using protection, and prepared for it to happen when it happens.

“Take a breath” Chris whispered, the small baby boy held to her chest. You had called her the minute you put the context clues together and she agreed to accompany you since she had already been through this twice now.

“I know, I’m trying” you forced a smile, your hand instinctively moving to twist your wedding band around your finger. It was a habit you had picked up since it became a permanent part of yourself.

“Remember, you and Charlie are ready for this. You should be excited” her soft smile radiated towards you and you felt comforted by her the same way you did the day you met. Without Chris you never would’ve met her boyfriend, now husband Knox, and Knox would’ve never introduced you to your now husband Charlie.

“I am, it’s just scary to think about. I’m already so attached and maybe I’m not even pregnant” you voiced your fears, admiring how she cradled her 10 month old baby as her 2 year old girl slept against her side. She was a super Mom, taking it all in perfect strides, the same way she mastered everything. Where she thrived, you struggled, and you worried motherhood would be the same.

“A mother’s intuition is never wrong, and you are going to be a great one” Chris’ hand moved to cover your stomach and you felt butterflies erupt because everything in you believed that a tiny piece of life, that you and the man you loved created, was growing in there.

“Mrs. Dalton” you nearly jumped out of your seat as the doctor called your name and you quickly stood, following him to an exam room.

“Good luck” Chris called out after you.

“We’re gonna do a blood test and then an ultrasound to see if we can find anything” you nodded, trying to numb yourself to feeling because you didn’t want to be disappointed. You’d rather not be heartbroken if he told you, you weren’t pregnant. So you tried to lessen your hopes as you let them take the blood test.

You could’ve sworn your heart was about to bust out of your chest as he prepped you for the ultrasound. Too scared to find there was absolutely nothing in there. Your eyes flicked nervously across the small, fuzzy, black and white screen as you waited.

“Would you look at that” the doctors voice nearly stopped your heart as a small blob appeared on the screen. A small thumping sound filled the room and you felt tears begin to form behind your eyes. “Judging by the size and the heart beat you’re about 6 weeks along. Congratulations Momma”

“Are you serious?” the dam broke as tears flowed freely down your face and the doctor smiled.

“Very serious” you leaned over and hugged him, him taken aback as he let out a chuckle. You couldn’t wait to tell Chris as you quickly got yourself back together to rush out to the waiting room.

“Well, what did he say?” Chris jumped to her feet as you returned to the waiting room. You tried to keep your composure but as soon as she asked you began to cry again.

“I’m 6 weeks along” shock flooded Chris’ features as she heard this.

“Oh my, you’re having a baby!” she squealed before hugging you as tight as she could with her son in her arms.

“I can’t wait to tell Charlie!” you spoke as you pulled away, already excited to cook the two of you dinner and tell him the good news. After that you and Chris wasted no time getting back home so you could prepare to tell your husband.

You nearly burned the chicken cutlet about five times as you prepared it, bursting with excitement and anticipation of Charlie coming home. You were going to have a baby, you had wanted this for so long. It was the whole reason you had stopped using protection, you were ready. So when you heard the door knob turn you realized you wouldn’t be able to wait until dinner was served to share the news.

“Hey baby” Charlie smiled at you, abandoning the brief case at the door as he loosened his tie. You couldn’t help but smile wider at the name baby.

"Hey sweetheart, how was work?" you asked as he walked over, wrapping you up slowly in his arms as he began to kiss the side of your head.

"Long and tiring, I couldn't wait to come home and see you" Charlie had ended up a Bank Managaer despite his best efforts not too. You admired that he was able to strip the work away the minute he stepped into the home. He still read and wrote poetry and played the saxophone every once in a while. You admired that he made an effort to continue doing the things he loved. Life was about work, of course, but it was also about the good, enjoyable things.

"I've been dying to see you too" you told him, finally pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. He hummed in relief, as if the action just removed all of the stress from his entire day.

"You seem extra happy today, what's got you all smiley?" Charlie asked as he pulled back from the kiss, searching your eyes as he looked at you with adoration.

"I got some good news" you grinned and Charlie rose his eyebrows, curious as to what could have you with this wide a smile on your face.

"News? Well hit me with it sugar, don't leave a man hanging" he told you and you chcukled, excitment and nerves bubbling over as he continued to hold your waist.

"So me and Chris went to the Doctor today?" Charlie furrowed his eyebrows, confused that good news could come from a doctors visit instead of bad. "I wanted to get checked out.

"But you’ve been fine, you haven't even had a cold?" Charlie was still confused, unsure where any of this story could be going. He didn't need to worry and going to the doctor without telling him worried him.

"Not cold symptoms, but pregancy symptoms" you explained and suddenly all the color seemed to drain from his face.

"You're pregnant?" you nodded, the huge smile still painted perfectly on your face and he felt his heart begin to quicken. Suddenly his arms loosened their grip around you and he took a step back, the smile instantly falling from your face.

"Charlie? What’re you thinking?" you nervously asked as he backed to the dining room table and calmbered into a seat. He stayed silent, looking anywhere but your eyes, and suddenly you felt the tears begin to burn behind them. "We talked about this, you we're ready. We stopped using protection"

The tears started to fall and Charlie finally looked to you, a hand over his mouth as he sat there stunned. Yet between your tears you saw he had tears in his eyes as well. You wished you could read every thought going through his head as he looked at you, a broken look across his face.

"Charlie, tell me what's wrong?" you begged as you moved towards hm, grasping his hands in your own.

"I thought I was ready" he muttered, tears now falling down his cheeks as well. He shook his head, removing his hands to brush his tears away.

"So you don't want to do this?" you asked and he sighed heavily, his heart clenching from his thoughts.

"Of course I do, I just don't want to hurt our kid" it was your turn to furrow your eyebrows in confusion. Bending to your knees in front of him you grabbed his thighs, practically pleading with him to look at you.

"Baby, how could you ever hurt our kid?" you ask and he sighs, his fingers running through his hair, leaving it a mess compared to his perfectly combed look.

"We could make them feel trapped, like they don't have a future, they could decide to leave us" and then it hit you. Charlie was scared to raise a kid, do it wrong, and lose them exactly how he lost Neil.

"Charlie that could absolutely never happen. You are not Neil's father, in fact you are the furthest thing from it. I know I can trust that you will keep our childrens happiness before anything else" you tell him, trying to reassure him of this and he sighs, tears still staining his face as he lifts you up to sit in his lap.

"I know I'm just scared, I didn’t think it would happen this soon" he says and you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close.

"We've been trying for month Char, I think we are just on time" you tell him and he nods against you, a hand reaching over to press against your stomach.

"There's really a baby in there?" he asks and you smile, happy this didn't mean he didn't care.

"Yeah, 6 weeks old. Only the size of a pea" you tell him, a hand running through his already disheveled hair.

"If it's a boy can we name him Neil?" Charlie asks and you smile, brushing your own tears away.

"Of course baby" you tell him and he finally lifts his head from your chest to look at you.

"And if it's a girl, can we name her Nuwanda?" you laughed at this question, head tipping back in amusement, unsurprised that he said it. He was still the same guy you fell in love with.

"Absolutley not, but I don't hate Wanda" you tell him, your hand tucking under his chin to lift his head and look at you.

"Wanda is perfect" he said before leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours. You smiled as he kissed you hard and good, more than likely trying to erase the mess he just made. He knew he should've been excited but the fear was suffocating the minute he heard the word pregnancy.

"I promise you'll be a good father Charlie, I just know it" Charlie smiles softly, holding his girl that was carrying his baby. The baby he would make sure didn’t grow up with the same fears of life like he did. Like Neil did. The exact fears that killed him.

"I'm going to do everything I can to gurantee that"

[billpottsismygf]

Space Babies! Weird episode, but it had a charm. I had already prepared myself for the fact that RTD's era was notoriously camp and weird, and that I would for the first time be experiencing new episodes by him as an adult rather than as a 9-13 year-old, so it's not news to me that there would be some campy nonsense with a deeper message, and that this might be more jarring than I'm used to. The deeper themes were really thrown out (refugees, anti-abortion hypocrisy, genocide, capitalism) without being dwelt on, but that's not necessarily a problem.

The babies themselves were... a little unnerving? The mouth movements were quite uncanny, along with their voices and the general "I love you, Ruby!" of it all. I've just now made the connection that the latter puts me in mind of adverts for baby dolls.

The gunky snot monster felt very early 2000s British children's TV. If you weren't there for that, just know there was so much slime; think Slitheen exploding. I am very glad it got rescued. Nice message with the Doctor not usually running from things just because they look scary and, even though this is a creature specifically manufactured to be scary, it still deserves a shot at life.

It feels like a strange story to start with because I suspect it'll have mixed reviews. I would think you'd want a slightly more solid episode to draw people in with. Anyway, there was still a lot of thought put into making this a proper jumping off point with all its Doctor Who 101 stuff. Funny for a long-time viewer hearing it all rattled off in record time, but important to establish for new people, and I do think it's important for the show to remain accessible to people who haven't been obsessing over it for twenty years or more.

As a jumping off point, it very specifically reminded me of The End of the World. There's the big observation deck on a space station where the new companion, in her second episode and first off-world adventure, gets her phone updated so she can call her mum, in particular. The parallels to Rose are interesting, especially with the lecture the Doctor gives Ruby about how they can't travel back to meet her missing parent(s).

Speaking of that, there's some intrigue there with the snow appearing and the memory changing. I didn't like the Doctor doing a DNA scan of Ruby without her knowledge. It feels very 11th Doctor, especially when he literally scanned Amy and withheld medical information, but also the way he treated all his female companions as mystery boxes to solve without telling them. I guess we'll see what that's all about at a later point.

I'm still not completely sold on Millie Gibson, but Ncuti Gatwa is wonderful, and I do really appreciate their chemistry.

Small things:

Jocelyn was a good character, and the Nan-E filter made me laugh several times.

That place name before the Doctor turned the translation circuits off was absolutely not in English. Slightly weird way to phrase that line if it's going to be called Pacifico del Rio.

This is a very early point in the series for Ruby to get a TARDIS key! We're really speedrunning the usual steps here.

[uwukillmenowowo]

Yandere Enki X Therapist Female reader

I GOT’CHU—

Cuz the best thing I love about Enki is his brother 🥰

Nah but still- Enki is 😍

But I might make a part two because I just wanna see if im on the right track of a good storyline.

Forgive me for this because I've only watched Nanbaka until season 2

(ノ ─︣ ⏥ ─︣ )ノ

Keeping Me Sane

(Yandere Enki Gokuu X Therapist! Female! Reader!)

Notes:

You were a recently appointed therapist.

Since you had to look over some inmates and guards one on one you got to learn how to use Qigong from the best of the best. Building 5.

You got along with one guard in particular, Samon

He taught you more about close combat and how to block out Qi channeling.

That way if an inmate gets to aggressive, you can paralyze them.

Basically you're like Ty Lee from ATLA.

Somethings wrong... You can feel it. It's coming from building 5. However, you ignore it, thinking that it was just some inmates. That is... until you get too close to a certain guard.

{Second POV}

~~~~~

You were heading to building 5 because of a supposed urgent process that needed to take place. The train stopped and you got off, taking a deep breath as you walked towards the Chinese setting. 'No matter how many times I walk through here it still smells like lotus flowers.' You thought optimistically as you saw a familiar fabulous teal haired queer Queen.

"Ruka! Good afternoon!" You called. Ruka turned around happily and squealed, rushing over to you and wrapped his arms around you. "[Y/n], dearie~ So glad you came. Ugh, that inmate was about to become absolutely insufferable..." You chuckled and pat his shoulder, telling him that you were here to help. He thanked you profusely and then told you that the inmate was in a lover level cell because of protocol. You understood and started to make your way to the cell.

But that's when you noticed... an extremely tall male.

[REALLY THO- HOW THE FUCK IS ENKI THAT TALL????]

You've never seen him before. However, he was wearing a guard uniform and he had a belt quite similar to Samon. 'Oh wait! Samon said he had an older brother. Perhaps that's him.' You thought and kept walking, eager to become acquaintances with another college.

You waved your hand and was about to greet him when all of a sudden he grabbed you by your coat and slammed you against the wall with incredible speed. You gasped for air and coughed. "Whoa are you?" He demanded as he glared at you.

He lifted you up. Since you were much smaller than him, you were suspended in the air. Because of the impact you felt blood in your mouth. Not wanting to cough it out, you swallowed hard. You tried to speak but no words came out. Thankfully though, someone came to your aid. "HEY! LET HER GO! SHE'S THE NEW THERAPIST THAT IS CHECKING UP ON THAT INMATE!" You couldn't see him but you knew it was Samon's voice.

The taller male let you go and finally you coughed some blood out as you held your throat. Samon raced over to you. "[Y/n]! Are you alright? I'm sorry about Enki." You just nodded and looked up to see Enki's gaze now looking nonchalant. "I'm... fine. Just a little banged up. But overall I'm good." Samon pouted. " Do you need Doctor Otogi?"

You shook your head again, telling Samon repeatedly that you were okay. But Samon refused to believe that you were okay. Since you two were good friends, Samon asked for Enki to apologize to you. You tried to tell him that it was fine but Enki did apologize to you.

You felt embarrassed about that so you just smiled and told Enki how it was no big deal. After that, Samon pat your shoulder happily and told you to visit the doctor if anything started to hurt before leaving.

After that it was just you and Enki. The taller male just stared down at you and you felt like you were in the presence of the warden all over again. "So you're a therapist?" He asked. You quickly nodded. Enki just hummed to himself before he started to walk off.

You just let out a deep breath. 'Scary!' You thought and just made your way to the inmate's cell to do the job you're paid to do.

{Ruka's POV}

~~~~~

"So~ How'd it go?" I asked and chuckled, using my Bashosen to cover my mouth. "... Awful... I tried to do as you say, pin her to the wall. But I slammed her head into the wall instead." I sweatdropped and sighed deeply as I saw Enki glaring at the wall. But immediately after, he smiled lovingly. "She's so tiny. I could do whatever I want with her with only one hand." I grit my teeth and just nodded along. 'What perverse thoughts.' I thought as I narrowed my eyes at Enki's lovestruck gaze.

'How in the hell did I get into this situation again..?'

"Shut up. Either help me win her over from my brother or I'll snap your neck right here an now. After all, you're one of her admirers too aren't you?"

'Right... that's how...' I sighed and fixed my hair and my cap before I proposed another plan. "Fine. Let's start off easier. Just ask her that you want to schedule a therapy meeting but instead, take that moment to apologize for hurting her. You could ever get her a gift or a snack." Enki then smirked and I flinched. It was the same look he gave me after almost murdering me after all.

"Perfect." His smirk grew wider and I just nodded. "Keep the grin down. You look like you're about to murder someone again... Also, don't. I've already covered up the first one. We don't need a second one." Enki stood straight up and fixed his guard coat. "That inmate deserved it. Talking about what's mine in such a way." Enki then went back to glaring at the wall and I facepalmed.

Ehhhhh- Am I doin' good?

(っ ─︣ ᵜ ─︣ )っ

[berylcups]

What creeps out La Squadras the most???

CW: Bug mention, MANstruation, poo poo, social anxiety, clowns

Notes: all phobias are valid no matter how "Silly"! I'm afraid of spiders, most bugs, thunderstorms, using the telephone, and big doggos. Most of the stuff below is me self projecting lmao. This is meant to be something silly for the spooky season. I am also going to do a serious deep dive on the boys and serious phobias so look forward to that later (If you're cool with that, Im going to get DEEP-DEEP) Lets share our silly fears with our favorite boys! 💜 Beryl

Risotto

What’s one “silly” fear they have: House Centipedes - this big man… hates house centipedes with a PASSION. If he finds one in the room he must destroy it immediately. Don’t tell him that they are beneficial—he doesn’t care. They are already dead before you can even finish your lecture.

How do they cope with this fear: He tries to keep his home tidy by not letting having those critters a place to hide. He doesn’t leave laundry on the floor and dusts under furniture frequently. Nothing more than four limbs are allowed to be in his space or face death from the leader of the hitman team!

How did this fear develop: As a young teen he was a bit of a messy boy. Leaving laundry and drink cans and dirty plates around his room. Of course these critters show up in all types of homes but… he was sound asleep on his bed until he felt a tickling sensation on his face… He gently slapped it thinking it was his Nonnas cat pestering him to wake up. But he did not feel a paw but a buggy like object on his face. He jumped and slapped it away to see in horror—a house centipede badly beaten on his bed scurrying back into the chaotic mess of his room! Only his nonna ever heard his terrified screams and took it to the grave with her when she passed from old age…

Formaggio

What’s one “silly” fear do they have: self flushing public toilets - why are they flushing when he isn’t done pooping?! He hasn’t even got to wipe yet! That’s sooooo rude! He wants to flush on his own accord—he needs a reliable lever so he can courtesy flush when things get noisy. 😬 you can’t do that with a self flushing toilet… that and the unexpected flush jumpscares him.

How do they cope with this fear: I don’t know if you can call it “coping” but he always goes to the bathroom at home before he goes anywhere! But God forbid if he has an emergency, he scopes out the toilets beforehand. If it’s automatic then well…his colon is just going to have to hold it! Because he ain’t going in there to get jumpscared by an auto toilet. 🚽😭

How did this fear develop: He had to go to the bathroom while he was shopping at the local supermarket and duty called. Some little bastard kid shoved a bunch of paper towels down the toilet before him and when he got to use it—it flushed when he was half way done and clogged up with dirty toilet water backing up with the toilet still trying to flush again and again. Let’s just say he had to throw his shoes out and he never went to that supermarket out of embarrassment EVER AGAIN.

Illuso

What’s one “silly” fear do they have: talking on the telephone- how am I supposed to know if the guy on the other line doesn’t have me on speaker and is just making fun of me for not knowing what to say?! This guy doesn’t know how to make a doctors appointment without sounding stupid. (Same Lulu same) He’s so bad that he needs a ambulance just for calling for an ambulance! That’s how stressed he gets about using the phone.

How do they cope with this fear: Lulu mentally rehearses what he’s going to say inside his head over and over again until he feels he’s absolutely ready to make that phone call. What about taking phone calls? Surprisingly, he doesn’t have a problem with that—if he gets uncomfortable he just hangs up. 😅 But 90% of the time he just doesn’t answer unless they leave a voicemail.

How did this fear develop: …have you ever tried to make a phone call??? That shit is scary. You don’t need a traumatic experience to fear phone calls! Phone scams, prank calls, weird perverts saying gross shit, organizations asking for donations??? I think I rest my case.

Pesci

What’s one “silly” fear do they have: pool drains- have you seen those things? They have an ominous aura to them and look like if you put your butt on the drain it will suck all of your insides out. 😨 they also make creepy sucking noises… 👀

How do they cope with this fear: He knows how to swim but he tries to stay towards the shallow side of the pool where the pool drain isn’t there. There’s not much to do to cope with this odd fear other than to mentally overcome or just avoid it. But one thing you can assure him though that the drain is not going to suck his insides out. 😅

How did this fear develop: He submitted to his own curiosity and went underwater in the deep end of the pool and sat on the pool drain. His friends said it felt funny and they were correct! When it was time to come back up for air his swimming shorts string got stuck in the drain! He tugged and tugged and got it out in time but that was really scary and could have been really bad.

Prosciutto

What’s one “silly” fear do they have: clowns- thank the lort he didn’t live to see the clown outbreak in 2016…he isn’t afraid persay, he just experiences extreme secondhand embarrassment just by glancing at one. You’re shoving your face into a pie, wearing gaudy makeup, and mismatched clothes while acting like a jackass?

How do they cope with this fear: It’s not hard for him to cope with this. Where are you going to find a clown??? If another clown outbreak happens he’ll just age them all to death. No biggie. That’s what you get for being a clown! Now gtfo you’re an embarrassment to humanity!

How did this fear develop: He remembers seeing a clown at a circus as a kid. Good ol animal abuse, acrobatics, and a weird guy in multicolored mismatched clothes trying waaaay too hard to make Pros laugh. All it did was make him cringe… he had no sense of humor as a kid either. But to be fair-I personally don’t like clowns either.

Melone

What’s one “silly” fear do they have: sloths- they’re slow…so slow. And they have blank expression even though they’re smiling. To Mel, it’s like a smile of a serial killer. No thoughts… only murder. Of course sloths are not like that, don’t be silly! Melone just can’t help but get the creeps from those animals!

How do they cope with this fear: Melone is probably the only one who copes by the book. CBT therapy self help books helped him with his odd mistrust of Sloths. He still gets a tingle down the spine if he makes eye contact with one though. It’s like they’re staring into his soul…

How did this fear develop: Going to the zoo with his mom as a child, he noticed how fucking weird sloths looked. That and how slowly they moved. Also that a couple of them made full eye contact with him and it made him very uncomfortable. The animal just feels unnatural to him. There’s not a really good explanation for his weird fear… he just doesn’t like them!

Ghiaccio

What’s one “silly” fear do they have: Cotton balls- he can’t STAND how they feel, the way they sound. The way the Feel in your mouth at the dentist office stealing all your moisture. HELL NO. Ghia will gladly drool all over the place instead of having those cotton packs anywhere near him. And don’t get him even STARTED on tampons 🤢

How do they cope with this fear: He just doesn’t buy it. It’s not really a fear, but an intolerance—a HATRED of the fiber. He won’t cope—he refuses to cope! You can take that cotton and shove it up your dry asshole!

How did this fear develop: have you ever had an ear infection and had cotton put inside your ear? THE FUCKING NOISE IT MAKES—! Oh and try shoving a dry tampon up your dry hole because you felt the cramps coming on but you wanted to swim laps in the pool with your best friend! It’s fucking awful!

[tennessoui]

I'm begging on my hands and knees for more Twilight au, and those are words I never thought I'd say! Anakin being able to resist compulsion, and Obi-Wan seeming instantly obsessed, and poor Shmi! Pretty please 🥺🙏

hey!! sure! here's some more!

(2.5k)

Having a sheriff for a mom sucked a lot when he was a kid growing up in a small town. There was probably nothing Anakin was rebelling against more at eleven, at thirteen, at seventeen than the rule of law his mother represented. 

All things considered, she was pretty good at separating her home life from her worklife. It was Anakin who was bad at respecting the separation, Anakin who couldn’t keep son out of delinquent.  There’s only so many times he could be pulled out of wreckage and bars and buildings with Keep Out No Trespassing signs on them before he got The Sheriff at home and out in public.

He’d hated it growing up and had come to grudgingly respect it later and in fits and starts. His dad dying had, terribly and ironically, helped a lot. His mother had had a stroke just before and then Anakin had been faced with the possibility of being an orphan, and the terror of that had mellowed him out.

Sorta.

He still hates a lot of things about his mother’s job. Especially the fact that she’s the sheriff of a very small town.

And when people talk, she listens.

The thing about small towns is that everyone’s always fucking talking. And other people are always fucking lsitening so they can talk later. One big fucking community, which means when Anakin comes home from his weird doctor’s appointment with Dr. Kenobi, a few hours later because he took a detour biking along the edge of the seaside cliffs just to spit in the good doctor’s metaphorical face, Shmi Skywalker already knows more than Anakin ever planned to tell her.

Like, for instance, “Sheila says that Dr. Kenobi thought it would behoove you to spend some time at the local library volunteering.”

Anakin pauses, backpack half-slung off his shoulders. He hangs his stuff up slowly, careful to keep his tone very light. “Did Sheila say what I told him after he said that?” 

His mom’s silence is very loud.

“I don’t want to do i—”

“I asked the new librarian about it on my way home from the station. She thinks it’s a wonderful idea. Apparently we used to have a program like that in the forties but it died out during the war.”

“Mom, come on—”

“It’ll look good on resumes, saying you created and supported a local reading program.”

“Yeah, but I’m a bit too old to be applying for babysitting positio—”

“It’ll look good for me as well,” Shmi says in her sheriff voice. “Elections are coming up soon. It’ll be good, if my kid was involved in the community.”

Anakin’s glad that his back is still turned to the living room, where his mom is sitting. “Are you gonna run again?” he asks, paying special attention to his tone this time.

“Why wouldn’t I?” his mom replies. “I’ve been sheriff for a decade and a half.”

Anakin lets his eyes fall closed for a second, knowing that his face can’t be seen. This is how they end up half the time: Shmi’s ardent belief that she is invincible, going up against Anakin’s desperate desire for her to be so.

And they just don’t talk about it. As if they’re actually in agreement.

He knows how this is going to shake out.

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” His mother asks.

Anakin’s eyes remain closed. “I guess so,” he says.

—--------

Mrs. Kenobi—call me Satine—is sort of scary up close. She’s tall. She glides between bookshelves. Anakin’s never met someone who glides before. And she’s so intensely, incredibly, blindingly perfect that Anakin would rather be anywhere but in her vicinity. There’s something incredibly unnerving about the symmetry of her face, the sharpness of her cheekbones. She’s obviously an absolute knock-out, just drop-dead gorgeous, but it makes Anakin’s skin crawl and his heart beat fast, but not in a good way or a normal teenage boy way.

Anakin tries to keep the unease off his face as Satine leads him through a tour of the library, a gentle hand on his forearm. That’s another thing Anakin doesn’t really like. She’s wearing satin gloves. He doesn’t know anyone who wears gloves anymore.

It’s just all a bit…unsettling.

“I put in a few words around the school yesterday afternoon,” Satine tells him. They pass by the mystery section, the fantasy section, and take a hard right into the young adult section. The shelves are smaller here, and Anakin feels rather stupidly gigantic as he and Satine walk through them. “To some parents picking their children up after school. They agreed it would be good exposure to bring them to the library for an hour or so of reading before supper.”

Anakin highly doubts it will be, but Satine hasn’t really asked him.

She sweeps past his figure and pushes open a pair of double doors with a flourish better suited for a Russian tsarina hosting an elaborate ball than a small town librarian showing off a small, cramped, and dusty room filled with padded seats and threadbare rugs.

And then, as if she has been waiting to put the last nail in the proverbial coffin, Satine adds, “A few students from the local high school will be here as well.”

“Sorry,” Anakin says, “are you saying I’m going to be reading to high school students? Can’t they do that themselves?”

After all, Anakin went to high school here. Academics hadn’t been too rigorously challenging, but they’d taught the fucking basics.

Satine raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow in his direction. “They’ll be volunteering as well.”

Oh. Right.

“It looks good on their college applications,” Satine waves a hand through the air and the words linger there. Anakin looks out the rather dirty window, jaw clenching. “I’ve already chosen a handful of books I think the young ones will enjoy.”

Anakin, committed to his fate, pads over to the titles placed carefully ontop of a short, stout side table. 

“Peter the Rabbit,” he reads off the top. “Peter Pan. Alice in Wonderland. Treasure Island. The Prince and the Pauper—look, you’re the librarian here, but don’t you have anything written this century maybe? Harry Potter, even.”

“These are classics,” Satine tells him, her nose raised into the air as if she has encountered something particularly foul-smelling. She turns away, presumably to return to the front desk so she can welcome half the fucking town inside the library so Anakin can read them fucking Anne of Green Gables and become a better person.

“These are fucking boring,” he mutters to himself, flicking the cover of the first book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz open. Publication date: 1900. “I’d rather be in Kenobi’s office getting lectured at.”

There’s a sharp noise of disapproval from the doorway, and Anakin’s head snaps up to see the tail end of a very heated look from the librarian before the door closes behind her.

He shivers, alone in the emply room, and it takes several long minutes for his heart to settle back into its normal pace. 

—----------

After the fourth kid sneezes, Anakin closes his book with a snap and stands from the very small chair they’ve got him sitting on. “Come on,” he tells the cluster of children he’s been assigned to. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Are you kidnapping us?” One of them, a snot-nosed kid who’d started the sneezing says, rubbing at her cheek beneath her glasses. “Cause mommy says that’s not allowed.”

“I’m not kidnapping you,” Anakin snaps back, barely holding in his natural follow-up to the sentence which is of course, I don’t want to be around any of you in the first place. “Also, just for future reference, you shouldn’t ask if someone’s kidnapping you after you already start following them.”

The girl scowls and reaches up her hand to hold onto Anakin’s. 

For the love of Christ.

“We’re just going to go into the main part of the library,” Anakin tells his children, all six of them. “They have windows out there.”

They have windows out there and they also have parents. Parents who absolutely should be doing other things with their lives and precious hour of extra freetime.

Parents who are clustered instead around the library’s front desk as the town’s newest librarian holds court.

“Is reading time over?” one of the kids asks him, turning his head to look up at Anakin.

Anakin thinks about it. “Do you want reading time to be over?”

The kid thinks about it back. “Yeah,” he decides. “You don’t do the voices good.”

“It’s a boring book,” Anakin tells the kid. “Voices aren’t going to make it better.”

“Voices always make it better,” another kid says. “They make everything better.”

“Oh look,” Anakin says. “Is that your father?”

He gestures vaguely towards the cluster of drooling middle-aged somethings focused on Satine.

The kid peeks around his thigh and then shakes his head. “No,” he says. “That’s Dr. Obi.”

“Dr. Obi!” The kid holding Anakin’s hand says, and she lets go.

Anakin gets a bad feeling about this, a feeling that only doubles when he turns around to see Dr. Kenobi sauntering towards him, hands tucked into the pockets of a long dark jacket that makes him look even more pale than he already is.

He scowls automatically as the man gets closer. “Dr. Obi.”

Dr. Kenobi spares him a look that’s far too amused for Anakin’s pleasure before he crouches down to the level of the kids. “Hello there, young ones,” he says, opening his arms to accept a hug from the traitor of a girl Anakin’s just spent thirty minutes reading to. “Are you eating all your vegetables? Even the brussel sprouts?”

“I like brussel sprouts,” one of the kids reports sounding proud, and that starts a cacophony of opinions about brussel sprouts from all around Anakin.

“Wow! One of mine just absolutely hates them,” Dr. Kenobi says. “She refuses to eat them, so you’re very brave, Michele.” He lets go of the girl and turns his golden-brown gaze up to Anakin. “And what does Mr. Skywalker think?” he asks, raising a hand for Anakin to take. It’s very obvious he’s asking for a hand up and Anakin is obeying before he thinks about it. He snatches his hand free almost too soon, but Dr. Kenobi doesn’t even have the grace to lose his balance and fall over. 

His hand is like ice in Anakin’s, and Anakin stuffs his fingers into the pocket of his jacket automatically a second later.

“Do brussel sprouts help with circulation?” he’s biting out before he can stop himself. “Cause you may need some then.”

Kenobi’s head tilts very slightly to the side as his eyes catch and hold onto Anakin’s. “Oh?” he asks lightly. 

“You’re cold,” is all Anakin mutters in return. He swipes his other hand against the back of his neck. “”S poor circlutation, isn’t it? Something in your diet maybe?” Dr. Kenobi blinks at him and then breaks into a wide smile. “I can assure my diet is very…circulation-mindful,” he says. “Blood health positive.”

Anakin’s mouth thins into a line. He guesses that’s what he gets for trying to give health advice to a doctor, especially a doctor like Kenobi who just so happens to be devastatingly attractive and also smart.

And also an asshole. And also married.

Speaking of which. “Are you here to fend off your wife’s admirers with a scalpel?” Kenobi’s eyebrows raise. “Young ones,” he turns his head away from Anakin, down to the children.

The strangest feeling breaks of Anakin the second Kenobi looks away, almost as if a strange pressure he hadn’t even realized had been building was suddenly dissolved.

The very small beginnings of a headache begin to thrum in his temples.

“Young ones, it’s time to find your parents, isn’t it?” Kenobi says, and like fucking magic, the crowd of six children around Anakin disperse, children swarming away from him towards the group of adults surrounding the front desk.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Anakin blurts out, even though he’d meant to ignore Kenobi now that he doesn’t have to make nice in front of small kids. Not that he was really making nice in the first place. But now he definitely doesn’t have to.

Kenobi gives him a half-smile, eyes heavy-lidded. “It’s a special sort of skill that takes, above all else, much practice.”

Anakin scowls. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Does Kenobi think he can’t commit himself to something even as mundane as a fucking commanding persona? Does he think he doesn’t have it in him to be–-

Kenobi’s eyebrows go up again. “Has anyone ever told you that you are exceedingly defensive?” 

“You’re extremely nosey,” Anakin snaps back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t you have better things to focus on right now anyway?”

He gestures loosely towards Satine, who has started playing with one of the mother’s bracelets as the other woman stands and looks at her rather dumbfounded.

Kenobi follows his gaze and then lets out a huff of laughter. “Satine can take care of herself,” he says, even though it hadn’t really been Satine that Anakin was worried about.

He’s about to open his mouth to say so when Kenobi turns back to him. His eyes are piercing, a dark, captivating sort of gold. 

“Do you find my wife beautiful, Anakin?” he asks.

Anakin blinks. His headache is getting worse, which is probably down to what can only be a trick-question fashioned to look like a grenade lobbed at his feet. “I don’t think there’s a good answer to that,” he mutters, rubbing absently at his forehead. “What the fuck.”

“An honest answer is a good one,” Kenobi says lightly. “Tell me honestly.”

The words feel pulled from Anakin’s stomach, and he’s opening his mouth before he realizes it. “No,” he says. 

Kenobi’s eyebrows crinkle together. “No?”

Anakin curses his stupid impulse control. “She’s beautiful,” he adds quickly. “Really. But���it makes me uncomfortable.”

Kenobi’s lips purse, and then there’s something like disappointment in his eyes as he examines Anakin. “Ah yes,” he murmurs. “I’ve been told my wife can make countless young men feel rather uncomfortable. It’s normal in men your age, Anakin. Sexual ar—”

“Uncanny,” Anakin blurts out. He doesn’t mean to, but he also doesn’t want to listen to  Kenobi trying to lecture him on fucking arousal in the public library. When it’s not even relevant. “She’s so beautiful, it’s uncanny.”

“Uncanny.”

“Yeah, like. Monstrous.”

Kenobi’s mouth falls open, pink lips parted in what looks like honest surprise.

Anakin’s own eyes widen as it hits him that he’s just called Kenobi’s wife a monster to Kenobi’s face.

“Shit,” he says. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m going to go.” 

He throws a look at Kenobi, whose eyes are lit with something a lot like interest and then across the library to where Satine’s head is turned, cocked, and eyebrows up high on her forehead, as if she’s just heard everything he’s said.

He decides rather immediately that he’s going to take the backdoor exit.

[writing-whump]

Hospital wait

"Shouldn't we call them?" Matthew asked into the silence. They stood in the hallway of the intensive care unit for the past hour, waiting to be let in.

Seline stood frozen solid with her arms crossed and expression unreadable. It was scary how much like Isaiah she could get sometimes. He couldn't pick up anything, like the door was shut on her heart.

"Call who?" Her tone carried absolute disinterest. She could barely look at him, no matter how composed she seemed.

Matthew cleared his throat, shifting weight from one foot to another. "Hector and Arnie. Shouldn't they...know? Be here?"

Seline stared through the screen that separated the waiting room from the patients like he said nothing. Did she hear him?

"...No."

"No?"

"It will be difficult enough for him when he wakes up. The doctor said we should try to keep him calm. He feels a lot of stuff with his brothers around, but calm isn't one of them."

"I don't know...I feel bad for them. They should know."

She scoffed in his direction, but it seemed even that was too little to actually give him the attention of a whole look. "Now you are feeling for somebody else?"

Matthew winced, biting into his lower lip so hard he could taste blood in his mouth.

"Look, it's the same logic. What's the best for Isaiah right now? I don't think stressing him out about whether they should or shouldn't see him is wise right now. It's for him to decide if they bring him comfort and he shouldn't be deciding anything in the near future."

Matthew didn't like that, but he also couldn't come up with any arguments. He was willing to never talk back to Seline for the rest of his life if it helped ease the guilt he felt.

The sheer disgust in her voice, when she talked to him was torture.

God, he messed up. And the worst thing was, he didn't know the right answer still.

Isaiah would know. Isaiah would figure out a way to solve this, to explain and understand everyone's feelings.

But Isaiah wasn't currently here. Or he was, but there were complications in the post operative phase or whatever that meant.

Matthew didn't understand everything the doctor said—he was experiencing rather unnerving blackouts in attention—only that it left him with a dreadful feeling between his ribs.

He wanted Seline's touch more than anything. He wanted comfort and he wanted to give it. He wanted them to be facing this together. It was difficult enough, but on their own?

It was only half a day of her being angry and he already couldn't stand it.

The whole situation was making him want to cry, throw up and scream at the same time. It was confusing enough his shadow was jittery and paralysed by undecision.

Which was great, in a way. At least it wasn't rearing up.

Matthew perked up as he heard the footsteps nearing and turned towards the door.

The doctor came in and headed directly towards them.

"There is nothing to worry about," he said at their expressions. "He is stable. But there has been significant swelling in the heart and the surrounding tissue after the operation. It's not uncommon. We are leaving his chest open for now to help ease it up, so there isn't too much pressure on his lungs."

Matthew swallowed heavily. Seline paled next to him, but managed to pose the next quesiton. "He won't wake up, will he?"

"He is heavily sedated, but his body burns through the anaesthesia quicker because of his shadow. There is a risk he might wake up sooner than we are able to close the chest. It would be for the best if you stayed near him in case that happens. Keeping him as calm as possible is very important right now."

Yeah, that sounded like a plenty gruesome thing to wake up to, especially after a freaking heart attack. Matthew felt nauseous just listening to it.

"Of course," Seline said like open chests and heart surgeries were part of her study programm. "Can we see him now?"

The doctor nodded. "We got him into a separate room. And you said you don't want his name appearing-"

"Yes. It will be safer that way," Seline agreed. Matthew had no idea when she made that deal. But it was good. They didn't need the city or the packs sniffing this out about Isaiah's condition or he would be in even more danger.

Matthew realized that secret name or not, Wolfsons giving them out or not, he was not moving from this hospital until Isaiah could stand on his own.

There was no way in hell he was letting any other wolf near the entrance.

"Thank you," Seline said, aiming for the door. She didn't stop to wait if he was coming too.

Matthew just hoped she didn't doubt he would.

[captain-mj]

Monster handler monster handler monster handler! You promised to hurt the babe! (Not by Soap’s hands of course)

Hell yeah! A few of you guys may have... opinions on this one lol

Ghost wasn’t nervous. Whatever Soap did to him, it wouldn’t be too bad. 

Alex took them home and he noticed Gaz and Price there. He started to sink into his seat, groaning. 

Price already had the lecture ready. It was on the tip of his tongue and Ghost could see it. 

Soap shoved Price to the side and grabbed Ghost’s hands immediately. He pulled Ghost’s gloves off so he could check his hands, glancing over his knuckles. 

Ghost froze and watched him. Was this idiot going to hit him with a ruler or something? Seemed weird.

“You didn’t hurt your hands again did you?” Soap glanced up at him. 

Ghost blinked and he could feel the other three staring at him. “What?”

“When you go off places, you tend to hurt your hands.” Soap pointed out and he seemed to decide his hands were adequate. “I got worried. If you want to go places, you could just tell me. Freaked me out when you were missing.” He glanced up at him with those giant blue eyes and Ghost nodded dumbly. 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

Soap smiled at him and quickly started to pull Ghost along, completely ignoring Gaz and Price. He was Ghost’s handler. Neither of them needed to be involved. Ghost flushed a little and followed him. 

Soap hummed. “So what did you guys do?”

“We ate and Alex showed me a bridge.”

“Why did you need to go to a bridge?”

“...to pretend to be mothman. Because of the black wings.”

Soap laughed. “No way! Did you get photos?”

Ghost pulled out his phone and showed him, unaware of how his wings were fluttering or his tufts were sticking straight up in excitement. Soap would never tell him. He knew he’d probably start to think of it and wouldn’t do it again and something about seeing him show emotion so easily was beautiful. 

The pictures on the other hand… They had really made it the worse possible picture. Ghost was incredibly blurry and scary. 

“You look so cool.” 

Ghost… chirped? Churred? Rumbled? The noise was new and interesting and Soap wanted to hear it again. 

“Thank you! I thought it looked nice.” Ghost smiled at him.

Soap never wanted to let anything happen to him again.

The very next day, Shepherd ordered physicals on all ESUs. They had to have them annually, so it wasn’t the most shocking. 

What was strange was how reluctant Ghost was to do it. Soap didn’t really get it. A few minutes with a doctor and he would get the okay to continue. 

Price warned him that getting Ghost to do the exam was hellish. When asked if he could help, Price shook his head. 

“Absolutely not. This is the first time I don’t have to worry about that. Plus, I’ll be busy that day.”

“What are you going to busy with Captain?”

“Long story. I’ll tell you more afterwards, okay?” Price sounded rather casual so Soap dropped it. 

Then, the day came and Ghost had disappeared. Soap had to search the entire base for him and it was past four before he had even heard a word of where he was. So Soap told the nurses to come back tomorrow, but silently. 

Ghost reappeared after dinner, eating calmly.

“Where did you go?” Soap said conversationally.

“Out.”

“I told you to tell me. I needed you for a mission report today.” Soap pouted at him and Ghost frowned, staring at him. 

“That all?”

“Yep.”

Ghost nodded slowly and kept eating. He was clearly half starved. Poor thing. Soap watched him and eventually walked with him to his room, admiring the way he moved like usual. 

“Oh, Lt, can you help me in the morning?”

“With what, Johnny?”

“With the mission reports, Ghost.” Soap smiled at him and Ghost nodded. Slowly, he pulled away, clearly cautious, but he didn’t really have a reason to be. Exam day was over. 

Soap waited until after breakfast to lead Ghost down the hallway to his room. He promptly ignored his room and led them to the infirmary. Ghost caught on and tried to leave and Soap grabbed on to his arm.

“Simon. Physical. Now.”

“No!”

“Simon!”

Ghost snarled at him and Soap snarled back. It wasn’t as intimidating, but it was enough to catch him off guard. He reluctantly let himself get dragged along. 

“Soap… I don’t want them to…” Ghost seemed weirdly whiney. Usually he didn’t really complain about anything. On their last mission, they ran out of MREs and had to hunt for food and cold as hell Russia and he didn’t complain. Maybe he was immune to the cold and Soap just didn’t know?

The nurse smiled at Soap and put on rubber gloves, making them snap. Ghost flinched. “Thank you Mister MacTavish, but I can take it from here.”

“Price said he stayed, so I’m staying.” 

“Price is a Captain.”

“Fine. If you want him to go feral and eat you alive.” Soap raised his hands and the nurse’s jaw twitched. He looked… distinctly upset. Ghost snapped his teeth to add weight to the accusation. 

The nurse sighed. “Fine. You know the drill, Mister Riley.” 

Ghost slowly started to undress. Soap didn’t really think it was odd until he was down to his underwear and slipped off his mask. 

“Wait a minute, this isn’t protocol.”

“He’s not protocol.” The nurse retorted. “We have to check the spread of the… infected skin.”

Infected? 

“It’s fine, Soap, It is protocol for me.” Ghost said quietly, but he pointedly did not look at either of them. 

Soap took a moment to look at his face. The soft blond curls and the scarring. Black skin that went up his throat and along his body, spiraling out from where his wings met his skin and from where his nails were. The nurse started to measure it and took photos of where it was. He clearly avoided any identifying features and Ghost didn’t fight which gave Soap an idea of how fucked this situation was. 

“Bad?”

“Surprisingly good news. No spread that I can see.” The nurse clicked his pen and made a few notes. “You can get redressed and we’ll do the other tests okay?” 

Ghost threw his clothes on quickly, relaxing immediately. They quietly went through the other blood test while Soap’s brain was still reeling. 

Spreading? 

What happened when it covered all of his skin?

Were they just worried since it was uncontrollable? 

Ghost was unique. His physiology and biology a complete mystery to everyone. If he lost what little was left of himself, his face disappearing and shifting, if that was even possible, what would happen to him? Would it simply be the los of humanity? Or worse, would Ghost simply be gone? An actual monster? 

Soap didn’t know. He wanted to ask, but Ghost was about to get his blood drawn. 

“Johnny?”

“Yeah, Ghost?”

“Can you hold my hand? I don’t like needles.” Ghost looked up at him and Soap quickly grabbed his hand and squeezed. 

The nurse took his blood and put it in a vial. He did a few standard fitness tests to check that Ghost hadn’t deteriorated or started to develop any health issues. 

Soap waited until they were out of there, a little surprised by how easy it was considering how hard it had been to get Ghost there, to ask Simon something that had been bothering him lately. “What do you plan to do when you retire?”

“I won’t.”

“Gonna go up the ranks?”

“No. I’m going to die a Lieutenant.” Ghost looked at him. “Johnny, I appreciate what you do. It’s nice to not feel like a walking weapon all of the time. But I’m never, ever going to retire.”

“Could they… remove your wings?”

Ghost stopped and it was suddenly too quiet. A vacuum had formed in the hallway as Ghost slowly turned to him.

“Even if they could. They never, ever would. Do you ever wonder why I have restrictions and why I’m a ticking time bomb?”

Soap stared at him, because yeah. Of course he wondered.

“I was rescued, ya know. Went home. To my family. Good people. They didn’t know really how to handle it. Who would? It was Christmas. I still remember the lights. Twinkling rainbow ones.” Ghost looked away, eyes shining as they reflected the hallway light. “It was the microwave. It went off and they forgot to warn me.” 

Soap stared. He didn’t want to say it. “You freaked out?”

“You have any nephews?”

“Yes.”

“You ever want to know what their guts look like? Because I do. I know what my brother’s blood tasted like in my mouth. It was fucking bitter. Not only could I never, ever go back to civilian life for many, many reasons. The moment I retire is the moment I die. Either by the enemy or by you.”

Soap shook his head, shaking. “I’d never.” Ghost didn’t sound guilty. He sounded blank. But Soap had picked up a while ago what those things meant. The less emotion he showed, the more he felt. 

“Fine. Then, it’ll be Price. Or Gaz. Or Shepherd. Or Las…” Soap noticed the sad look in his eyes. Was he thinking of his own Mom? “Or Laswell. It’ll be quick. I know that.”

“How can you be sure that this will still happen?”

“Because I asked. It’s part of my contract. I’m a dead man walking, Johnny. Living on time I stole from a little boy named Joseph who wanted to be a pilot.” Ghost’s voice cracked. It sounded painful. 

Soap gently led Ghost to his room since it was closest. He left the lights off, sure Ghost could see just fine and he knew his own room well enough to not stumble around blindly. They fell to the bed and Ghost grabbed him, pulling him to his chest like he was an overgrown teddy bear. Maybe that’s all he was to the guy. 

It felt right though. Snuggling him like this. 

Ghost didn’t sleep. Soap could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest underneath him. 

“You should stay here more often.” He didn’t want to think of the christmas party. 

“Your bed is cramped.”

“Exactly. Gives me the excuse to lay on you.” Soap smiled. “Thank you for putting up with today. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“It’s fine.”

“Still. Dealing with needles and being undressed. You were very brave for me.” 

Ghost rumbled again. Soap closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling. 

They couldn’t stay in there forever. It was only noon after all. 

Price sent out a message for them to have a meeting so Ghost dragged them up and they made sure to look ready. Fix their collars and hair, military styles right?

Price stood at the end of the little meeting table. “So, for the time being, we will be working with a group of mercenaries. Including their leader, Graves.”

None of them really reacted. It wasn’t exactly unusual, they had worked with KorTac, their sworn enemies before. It just came with the job. 

Graves hummed and all of them jumped as he wasn’t exactly visible in the shadows. He slid next to Price, the two of them rather close. “Full disclosure, I am an ESU. Ex Military, but I left. If that’s a problem, you can figure it out on your own.” 

Soap tilted his head. Weird. How fitting considering their earlier conversation, seeing one of them out and about and away from the military. He didn’t notice Ghost tightening like a coil. 

Price cleared his throat. “I’ll be working closely with him, of course, but he is a commander. Show him full respect as you would me.” 

Graves smiled. “Personally, I think the whole handler thing is silly, but I get its protocol. My Shadows will introduce themselves to you over the next few days. We’ll be staying at your base.” 

Everyone else seemed to understand and dispersed. Price and Graves talked for a few minutes, rather close to each other before they left. 

Soap looked at Ghost, wondering why they weren’t leaving. Ghost looked incredibly tense. 

“He replaced me.”

Soap frowned. “What?”

“He replaced me. He said he couldn’t be my handler anymore because he didn’t have time. They told him no. If they gave him this task, they weren’t the ones who told him he couldn’t. He just… decided he couldn’t. Price replaced me. He replaced me.” Ghost sounded so distraught. “Was I not good enough?”

“Simon, no, I’m sure the-”

“He replaced me.” Ghost hissed, glaring at Soap. His shoulders were heaving and Soap knew he was just lashing out because he was hurt, but his heart sped up anyway, a little afraid. 

“Simon.” 

“Did I do something wrong?” Ghost shook. 

Soap paused. “No. No, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He stared at him, swallowing. “Didn’t do anything wrong, big guy.” 

Soap was going to get answers out of Price even if he had to beat it out of him. 

Taglist this may be my outdated taglist but if you want to be added, please comment

@nalawayward @joltom @azure-winter-crow @korym @cod-hyperfixation @thychuvaluswife @revenge-of-the-bucket-demon @commie-ghost

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

If it's possible to request all the riddlers I was wondering if we could have their reaction to their s/o breast cancer scare? (Totally not me projecting)

Thanks of you do this!

❤️ anon

"Breast Cancer scare" Riddler party x Reader

First of all, I want to thank you for having patience with me on an ask that's much more personal. Second, I'm hoping by you saying scare that everything was all good? I had to get extra scans a few years back on something sketchy and I was PETRIFIED the entire time waiting for results.

TW: Cancer

Gotham

He's not going to freak out. Nope! Absolutely not. Freaking out is a thing that is not helpful to a situation like this and you don't need ANY additional stress. You notice he's stimming a lot more the past few days... His leg won't stop shaking and bouncing when he sits. He knows what cancer does to the body, he's seen it first hand. How it ravages.

This can lead to a potentially morbid road where he's trying to tell you as much about it as possible. Because if he informs you, it won't be as scary because you'll be expecting it. You'll both be prepared. The way to get this on a better route for the both of you is to have him explain the tissue scans and testing. He can tell you the entire pathology process of it. He holds your hand going through it and it seems to help.

He's going to be reviewing the scans and any results himself after they give you the medical okay. This is in fact to the annoyance of all your doctors, thank you for asking. Edward rationalizes it- No, he's not an expert but he's probably smarter than all of them put together and he knows what to look for. He just... He just wants to see for himself that there's nothing abnormal.

60s

Uncharacteristically quiet. There's no wit or jokes to be made about something like this. Mentally he runs into all the possibilities of results, treatment, how he's going to help you pay for anything you might need. What the future might hold for the two of you. For an instant, he thinks about a world without you and it's enough to feel his heart breaking.

There's these instances where you can see his normally well-kept self slipping. His hair not brushed into place. His clothing is messy and not tucked in. Holding your hand too tightly as you're called in by the doctor or the technician. Pacing for your return. Then you're back and the waiting begins. The worst part.

Then everything is okay. Results came back negative and you're completely fine. A nervous laugh. He makes a joke about your "marvelous, magnificent mammaries" being safe and sound. His insane cackle fills the air. Then he falters for a moment. Sways as though he's faint. You can see the tension physically break over his shoulders. You're alright. That's all that matters.

Capullo

That's a joke... right? It's not funny. Why would you tell him that? You know how serious that is? How is he supposed to focus on ANYTHING now? Everything is getting put on hold until you've been through testing and given the okay. Because OBVIOUSLY you're going to be okay.

Some people remark him as a vain man- which is true. There's an instance when it seems as though it could be positive for cancer. Additional testing or delays, what have you. He gets down to his knees and hugs your legs. Calmly, he tells you he's not leaving, no matter what. He'll love you if your hair all falls out, if your breasts have to be removed. None of that will change how he feels about you. He needs you to hear him say it.

As the negative results come in... He's smoothing back his hair and speaking too quickly. Good. It's good, you know? He quotes Princess Bride, “There's a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours.” Ignore the way his hands are shaking HE'S FINE.

BTAS

What do you need? It's the first thing that falls from his mouth. What can he give you or do for you that will help in this time? Rationally speaking, he's not only trying to help you, he's trying to keep himself busy doing things for you as to not focus on the possibilities. He'll clean for you and cook for you and shop for you- Just tell him, sweetheart, and he's going to do it for you.

He will drop you off for any and all appointments but he won't stay by himself waiting. He can't. He can't stay in that place and imagine- Imagine the results. Think about what's happening to you in there even though it's standard procedures. He'll confirm about how long everything will take and be back just before you're out. He brought you lunch, your favorite :)

He finally looks tired when you're given a clean bill of health. He's been running himself ragged for this. It's what he wanted to do, but that doesn't make it less exhausting. He confirms that you're okay and then goes to sleep for almost ten hours straight.

Telltale games

Potentially the most level-headed about it. On the surface. He blinks when you tell him. He rattles off statistics about how much more likely it is you'll receive a benign diagnosis. It can come off cold but it's all an emotional defense mechanism for him.

This doesn't stop him from attending any and all appointments you're going to need for confirmation. They aren't letting him in the room, of course, but he doesn't leave the imaging center. He doesn't leave the doctors office. He sits there with a book when they tell him you'll be a while. He... can't leave you alone with this. He needs to know how it was when you come out- if you're okay.

When everything is alright he'll act as if he was never worried in the first place. See? He told you. Were you worried? Don't worry, that's what he's good at is keeping YOU grounded. It's not like if something happened to you he'd burn the world down or anything.

Arkham games

He attempts to act as though he's not freaking out about it. These things happen. No matter what, the two of you will figure it out. You'll get the results and... Whatever happens happens. Nothing can be changed now. That's just logical.

Later on, maybe even months later, you'll find plans he had developed that involved so much abduction of the top cancer researchers in the world into one laboratory space. Their entire lives, potential blackmail he could use, bribery- All of it was for you. He spiraled himself into the worst possible scenario and what he was going to have to do to make you better.

When you tell him officially that everything is in the clear, he asks if you're sure. You see his shoulders relax and he actually gets up to hug you. No smart ass response. No quips. Just a sigh.

Batman 2022/Nashton

When you tell him about the possibility, he's going through several phases of upset at one time. Denial, then anger, then depression- At some point he will lock himself into a room to have a full blown panic attack. This isn't on you. He does WANT to know something this important. It's just his emotional coping mechanisms are still horrendous and he doesn't know how to handle this. How to handle the mere idea he could lose you and there's nothing he can do.

If there is a service where you have to refresh to see results after testing, he's going to be refreshing every ten minutes on the side. If the results are even a day later than they said, he's calling. You, his lover, NEEDS to know! HE needs to know! Right now!

He does tear up when he realizes you're going to be okay. For once, it's happy tears, he's just so relieved. When you go to bed that night, he's going to big spoon you and stick like velcro.

BTAA

No, no! That's not- Listen, sweetheart, you can't get sick like that. You just can't. Because that would mean you're not okay. And if you're not okay, he's not okay! Okay? So let's just talk about this. From the top, tell him why your doctors have it in their numbskulls that you could have cancer. He's pacing back and forth. Okay. You'll get the tests. And then... he'll figure this out. You point out he's not the doctor and he waves his hand.

Gets very testy with the office when they get your appointments mixed up. He is on the phone and he is going to make someone regret their mistakes. Don't they know how important this is? How vital it is that this process goes as smoothly as possible so you can get what it is you need? Does he need to come down there and talk to a supervisor? Because he fucking will and- Yes, babe, he's fine but they can't just treat you like this!

Bundle of anxiety until the results come back. There's so much to unpack here and most of it boils down to cancer being an incredible unknown factor he has no control over. For him, that's terrifying. What if he lost you? Even after he knows everything is okay, please just let him hold you.