#it has not been played in 11 years but it still works (mostly)

[lucitech]

me on da wii

[megaderping]

I feel like when people compare Akechi to Light Yagami, they fundamentally misunderstand his character. Their similarities really end at their designs, and Light is the kind of person Akechi would despise. Light Yagami lives a pretty privileged life at the start of Death Note. He has a stable home, with two parents and a sister who care about him. He's a successful student. There isn't really inherent tragedy to his life. The whole reason he starts using the Death Note is a mix of curiosity and a jaded worldview, and when it works it empowers him, very quickly goes to his head, as he believes he is one who can be a god of a "new world" once the shock of his initial kills wears off. While his first kill was to help someone, that altruism didn't last. He is in charge of his choices, while Ryuk mostly vibes and maybe eggs him on a little. Fundamentally, Light has something Akechi lacks: agency, and a comfortable life he took for granted. Meanwhile, Akechi is someone who lived on the bottom rung of Japanese society. His very existence is shameful there, between his mother being a sex worker, his status as an illegitimate/"throw away" child, and his mother's suicide. Years languishing in a foster system that is notoriously inhumane, in a country where 90% of the adoptions are grown men for inheritance and patriarchal reasons, while very few children in the system find permanent homes. When Akechi awakens his power, he approaches Shido not because he wants to kill people but for a stupid revenge plan cooked up by a traumatized child who's been nudged along by a malevolent god. He wants to build Shido up so that at the height of his power, he can expose him for the monster he really is, while another part of him genuinely wants to be useful to Shido, as Cogkechi later calls out. His feelings are a mess of contradictions, and so it's no surprise that Shido was able to mold him into his assassin at only 15 years old. It's also worth noting that Akechi only approaches Shido with his ability to cause psychotic breakdowns. Shido is the one who teaches and instructs him to do shutdowns. He's still complicit, very sunk cost with his revenge plan, but as I spoke of here, even if he wanted to quit, he couldn't alone. Shido's cleaner and control of the law and ability to effortlessly turn him in would render the Metaverse his only safe haven. I think people look at 11/20 Akechi and Akechi in the early parts of the engine room and assume that's just his "true self," when in reality it's another mask. Royal makes it very clear because in Rank 7, he outright warns Joker of what's to come via a pool metaphor and offers an out (though he's MUCH happier if you don't take it/stick to your principles), and in Rank 8, he goes on that big "I hate you" speech... while Sunset Bridge is playing. Y'know, the song that plays at the end of most confidants to reaffirm bonds. So when he smiles as he shoots what he assumes to be Joker, that doesn't mean he's genuinely happy. More likely, he's an emotional clusterfuck, given he also is disoriented enough to namedrop "Shido-san" over the phone, and in the subsequent meeting with Shido, tells him not to kill the Phantom Thieves and that Morgana is "just a cat." Yes, he says they'll make them fear for the rest of their lives, but remember, he's talking to Shido. The things he says are likely all incredibly calculated to sound appealing to Shido. And when you consider that he planned to utterly destroy Shido's reputation after the election, the "delay" makes even more sense.

Later, Akechi goes on about how the people he induced shutdowns on were deserving of their fates, but I don't think he believes it so much as it's the only way he could convince himself that it was worth it, and given how much society failed him, and given how many of the people he targeted were likely rivals/competitors or rich fucks, I think he'd be less inclined to assume good faith. Kunikazu Okumura was not an innocent little victim, after all. He was one of the people who requested breakdowns and shutdowns the most. I think Akechi enjoyed killing him not because of how it'd hurt Haru, but because of catharsis. Because Okumura is just as monstrous as Shido, so why should he feel remorse? However, I don't believe he feels the same about Wakaba, as when he discusses her with Shido, he mentions how her fate was because she refused to willingly work for him. It's another justification, but I personally think Wakaba's death was the most painful for him because he was effectively making Futaba just like him. That's why I think his reaction to Sae threatening Sojiro's custody was genuine. Anyway, evil grinning Akechi is just another mask, as I said. Keep in mind, this is someone who laments not meeting Joker years ago, someone who Morgana outright points out is lying about his hatred. And that's the thing. Light Yagami, while a really fascinating character, is not someone who had all this childhood suffering or lack of agency. He does not regret his actions in the slightest and goes down due to his own hubris in both the anime and the manga. While you can argue that Ryuk set him up by dropping the Death Note, Light was the one who picked it up and chose to use it. Any nudging from Ryuk didn't coerce Light into doing it because Light seized the opportunity. No, if Light Yagami is like anyone in Persona 5, it's Masayoshi Shido, not Goro Akechi. Both believe they are god/god's chosen, that they are the ones who will reshape the world to their ideals, and to be frank, both use and abuse women to serve their own purposes. Goro Akechi goes down sacrificing himself for the Thieves and pleading with them to stop his father and again in Maruki's reality when he refuses to let Joker accept a gilded prison of a world for his sake when he knows better than anyone what it's like to have no true freedom. If you max his confidant, you see him in the postcredits, leaving his survival entirely possible, and I think it works because at the end of the day, Akechi was meant to be a victim and a foil. Light is a villain protagonist and a cautionary tale. Though its his POV we follow, he isn't someone we're meant to root for, but I definitely don't think enjoying the character is a bad thing at all. He's really interesting! I just think that a lot of the Akechi and Light comparisons are surface level at best.

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 11 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 12

Making the scrapbook was cathartic. Remembering the good times, the innocence of your childhood, was as much of a joy as it was painful. The pictures were all quite good quality since Abuela had had a film camera. Some photos had been taken with a digital camera, which had probably originally belonged to the Georges and ended up in your possession somewhere along the way.

Regina and yourself playing in the Georges' backyard and swimming in their pool, beaming smiles directed at the camera. You could almost hear the laughter. I miss when we used to be able to just have fun together like this. I guess it's a part of growing up.

Regina in a white frilly dress, carrying a small basket of flower petals, donning a crown of roses on her head. She was pouting, clearly unimpressed by the whole thing. You hadn't been at the wedding since it was a George event, but Regina's mom had been so elated her daughter had gotten to be the flower girl. I remember I was so jealous you got to go to a wedding and I couldn't. You hated it, though, which was funny. You used to leave the room whenever your mom insisted we watch the tape. I wonder if she still has it.

You sitting with Regina, hip to hip, on plastic chairs while a newlyborn Kylie slept in your laps. Regina, eyes stuck on her baby sister and a thoughtful look on her face, while you looked at the camera with a smile. She's growing up so fast. Don't think I don't know you care about her. There's gonna be a time you'll regret not spending time with her. I already feel it.

Mrs George, Abuela, Regina, Kylie in her mom's arms, and you grouped together at a parking lot. You and Regina had on little graduation gowns and had scrolls in your hands. Elementary school graduation. The summer before middle school. End of an era. I love your mom's clothes, they're so nineties. Does she still have those jeans? You should get ahold of them before somebody else does...

Remember when I sliced my hand open when we were peeling apples? That was a time for sure. I still have the scar!

You taped pictures onto the pages, wrote little things here and there, hoping the labour of your love wouldn't end up in the garbage. Or if it did, Regina would read skim through it first.

I think this album was the first time we agreed on music. Britney Spears really brought us together, huh? We even learned the choreography of Baby One More Time. Mrs George loved it. I bet there's a video of that somewhere.

Mostly the scrapbook was filled with anecdotes about your childhoods together. You did write a letter of sorts on the first page, regarding your intentions with the whole thing.

I made this for you to commemorate the good times we had. You know me regrettably well, so I think you know how I tend to hold onto things. I still have that gaudy pink Build-A-Bear you made me for Valentine's Day that one time. It's one of my most important possessions, only second to the memories we have together. You'll always be a friend to me, Reggie. If not forever, or from now on, then back then. I love you. Yours, Jorts.

You'd pretty much finished the whole thing by the end of the weekend. You spent Monday and Tuesday decorating the front cover, mostly because you purposefully put it off. You cut out letters from magazines and glued them there, painstakingly forming the words Reggie & Jorts. You'd tried to come up with something clever, but making a pun or a dumb joke felt like cheapening the whole album. A simple name made up for with fabulous decorations!

You weren't much of a painter, but you figured it'd be fitting if the album reflected its contents. It was fine if the roses you painted looked like a five-year-old did them. A good majority of the pictures featured you and Regina huddled around a crafts table, similar projects scattered all around you, young with clumsy hands but filled with artistic passion.

The album in itself was an earthy green colour, something Regina undoubtedly found ugly. The flowers brightened it up somewhat, but there was only so much ages-old acrylic paints could do. You outlined some with Sharpies. If you didn't know better, one could assume it looked like that on purpose.

You took it with you to school on Wednesday. You had it weighing your backpack down the whole day. You sweated under all your layers, and by the end of it, you were sure you were sporting some epic pit stains. Gross, but you were so nervous. You hadn't broken into anyone's locker in so long. And it was Regina George's locker.

You loitered around the hallways as they emptied out steadily, people heading home or off to extracurriculars. As you approached Regina's locker, you swallowed down your nervousness and got to work.

It wasn't hard. The combination locks were all old and weak, more of a formality than an actual barrier between one's stuff and a burglar. The lock clicked open easily and you wasted no time in stuffing your album inside.

"Hey!" Just as the resounding click of the lock going back into place came, a voice called out to you. "What are you doing with Regina's locker?"

"Uhh..." Gretchen Wieners stood at the intersection of hallways, hands on her hips and accusatory eyes burning holes in you. You made the swift decision that you did not have time for this. You booked it.

"Hey! Get back here!" Gretchen, surprisingly considering her heels, started after you. "What did you put in it? You cannot prank Regina, or- or, oh, was it a bomb?"

"It's not a bomb!" You shouted over your shoulder, sprinting towards the exit. The aggressive clacking of Gretchen's heels on the floors as she ran after you would surely haunt your nightmares. How could she even keep up with you?

"If it's not a bomb then what!" How was she closing in on you? It seemed like she was not even fazed by your little race, meanwhile, you were already winded. The exit was not that far away, but it felt like miles.

"It's Regina's business now! Ask her tomorrow at school or something!" The doors to freedom approached. "Stop chasing me!"

"Stop running!"

"No!"

You burst out and quickly hopped down the stairs, two at a time. Gretchen was still on your tail, but once she got to the top of the stairs shouted: "Karen! Tackle her!"

You hadn't even noticed Karen fucking Shetty. There was no not noticing her when the girl sprinted at you with perfect athletic form and squashed you like a linebacker.

You collided and flew into the snow. Better than the concrete of the footpath but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Get off of me!" You tried to get out from under her, but Karen was surprisingly dense. She was small but it was as if there were stones in her body instead of organs. "Fuck!"

"Keep her there, Karen, very good."

"Thanks!" Karen beamed, which was a much more common expression on her than the bloodlust she'd shown earlier.

"This has nothing to do with you." You snarled, still wriggling. "This is between Regina and me."

"Whatever's between Regina is between us," Gretchen said, all hoity-toity. "Now, tell me exactly what you put in her locker."

"A fucking photo album." You hissed, closing your eyes and clenching your jaw. What lie could you come up with? "Our families used to know each other. It's mostly pictures of her, so I just thought to... Return it."

"Oh, that's so nice!" Karen's hold loosened and you went to escape.

"Nuh-uh, not good enough." Just like that, Karen's weight slammed back down onto you. Your breath wooshed out of your lungs.

"What more do you want?" You wheezed out, getting sick and tired of this.

"Why was it in your possession?"

"I don't fucking know! It just was!"

"Hmm. And why couldn't you just give it to her?"

"You think that would've gone well, Gretchen? Seriously?" You turned your head with great effort, staring up at the girl. "Please, just let me go."

"I don't think I believe you." Gretchen squatted next to your head. "We're going back and checking it's what you say it is. And then you might be free to go."

"Fuck you." You hissed but made no move to book it when Karen hauled you up.

"That's not very nice." Karen pointed out.

"I don't want to be nice to Gretchen right now." You had no real issue with Karen, even if she had just tackled you.

"Oh, okay." You couldn't see her when she was holding your wrists behind your back, but you could imagine she was bobbing her head up and down like she was known to do.

You were walked back into the building, going mostly without a fight. Gretchen strutted along proudly as if capturing you was some great victory. Regina had trained her well. You weren't sure if that was impressive or just sad.

"Open it." Gretchen gestured once you were back at Regina's locker.

"I need my hands to do that." You helped out, smiling at Gretchen like she was stupid. Sputtering and offended, she instructed Karen to let go.

Instead of running like you should've, taking the chance you could get out if Karen didn't get a one-up on you, you obediently cracked the code again. Was it selfish that you kind of wanted others to know about you and Regina? Was it totally horrible of you to want to know it was real and have proof of that? Well, if it was, there was no helping it.

Gretchen snatched the album from the locker before you could even think to touch it. Karen sidled up to her, peering over her shoulder as she opened it.

You stood by, waiting for their judgement and looking at the ceiling. There'd been a water leak right there, based on the discolouration. Gross.

"You... You're J. J is for Jorts." Gretchen said. She sounded weird, like hollow or something. "J is for Jorts." She said again, breathy and disbelieving.

"What?" What the fuck was going on?

Karen spoke then. "She talks about J a lot. Like, a lot a lot. A whole lot." You nodded slowly as Karen went on. "J's like, her true love. It's so cute."

"J is not her true love, Karen! They are both girls." Gretchen pointed out. You had to agree. "Are they?" She looked you up and down judgementally.

"Yes. I am a girl." You said. It was true, you were female and around the age that it was acceptable to be referred to as a girl. Even so, it made you distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hmm." Gretchen didn't seem to believe you. Karen was busy cooing at the pictures of small Regina. It was sheer luck they hadn't bothered to read your writings.

"Look, can I go now? I know I'm busted, you're probably gonna confiscate the album, and Regina will never see it. Happy?"

"No. Karen, please put it back in the locker." Gretchen said, not taking her eyes off of you. Karen did as asked with a pout. "What is your relationship with Regina?" The album was back in the locker, but it hadn't been locked again.

"Nothing." And that was true. There was nothing there anymore.

"That's a lie and you know it. If you're J, then you've known each other at least since middle school. Based on the pictures, even longer."

"Who is J?" You asked in exasperation.

"Somebody who she has protected for years now. Somebody who is always better than we could ever be." Gretchen pointed between herself and Karen. "J is important to her."

"Okay, well, good for J, I guess."

"You're so infuriating." Gretchen sighed, pinching the skin between her eyes.

"You aren't the first to tell me that."

"Of course, because Regina has said that to you. Because you've known each other forever. Because you're J."

"Listen, I may look a bit butch, but I have a perfectly ordinary girl name."

"That is not the point!" She spoke fast and high-pitched. "You. It's you. You've been under our noses this entire time! Do you realize how much easier things could've been if you were around?"

"Excuse me?" Now, you were really lost.

"You're excused," Karen said cheerfully. You nodded to her in thanks.

"We could never be as good as you. It was like we were placeholders for the ultimate pretty girl she'd somehow let slip. And it's you. In a flannel and hoodie, ratty jeans, dirty shoes, no fashion sense to speak of. It's you." She said that last part with contempt.

You were reeling. Regina had talked about you to these two. Had compared them to you, cited that you were better. For years she'd done that. She'd never forgotten about you.

"Look, Gretchen, I'm sorry Regina's treated you badly." You'd lost the need to defend her, even still. Then again, even if you hadn't, there was little you could argue about with the two she'd tormented the most. "You can probably tell this is something Regina doesn't want coming out."

"What does that matter?" Gretchen asked, eyes far away and legs beginning to pace. "We could- could finally bring her down. Yes. We have J, we have everything she wants. She'll come grovelling."

You took a deep breath. You didn't feel angry, you were too tired to get angry at mean girls at this point. Besides, nobody could rile you up like Regina.

"You're wrong." You put it plainly. "What Regina's been doing to these people, to everyone around her, is wrong. But what I find despicable is how everybody is the same. I know her reasons, I can sympathise with her, but I can't say the same for you. So tell me." You paused to take a deep breath. "Why?"

"I'm not good at riddles, I'm sorry." Karen said, looking genuinely apologetic.

"It's okay, Karen, Gretchen can answer for you both."

"She deserves it." Gretchen said, steel in her tone.

"You sound just like Cady Heron and Janis 'Imi'ike. She hurt them too. What do you think ruining her life will achieve?"

"I'll be the new Regina George."

"Do you hear yourself? You still idolize her. If you're gonna be the new Regina George, it's always going to be a Regina George world. Don't you want to be Gretchen Wieners?"

"No!" She screeched. "Gretchen Wieners is lame, boring, too eager, a slut, desperate-" She took a deep breath.

"Okay." You said. "Why? Because Regina said so? Why would you believe her? She's just the same as you. Look," You pulled the album back out.

"Here we're in the Georges' pool. She would not go to the deep end. Y'know, she refused to even go in without those arm floaties for the longest time. Eventually, some boy made fun of her for them and that was the last time.

"And in this one we're driving back from summer camp. Regina was already tall enough to go without a booster seat, but I wasn't. She'd just thrown the biggest tantrum 'cause Mrs George didn't allow her to take off her seatbelt to sleep. She went out like a light, anyway.

"We're in Six Flags there. We'd just gotten those ice creams and you can see that Regina's isn't sticking to the cone all that well. Right after the shot, it just slid off. Regina was inconsolable. I offered her mine so we could share, and that seemed to be good enough for her but her dad was not having it. He threatened to take us home if she didn't stop crying right then, that it'd be all her fault that their whole family wasted money and time on this stupid trip. Eventually she calmed down and Mr George didn't have to drive us back."

You sighed. "I already tried this with Janis, in a way. I don't think Regina would appreciate me airing out her personal life like this, but... I don't know..." You closed your eyes for a moment. "I just want people to stop making things worse for her. She's been so wrong for so long, and I know I can't keep defending her, but I just don't think revenge will make her regret anything that she's done."

Karen hummed. "My auntie's been teaching me about karma. So, like, if she feels what she's made others feel, then won't that like... Fix her?"

"I don't want to hurt her." You said, resolute. "Maybe, it could be the most effective way to make her see her shortcomings. But I don't want to. I do not want to hurt her." You looked between the two. "And that's where we differ, I guess."

Gretchen didn't say anything, eyes glued to a picture from the Six Flags trip. Regina had mustard and ketchup smeared all over her face while she was holding a napkin to your lips, in the process of wiping your face.

With that, you snatched the album from her hands, deposited it back into the locker and slammed it shut. The lock clicked. Without a word, you began to talk towards the exit. Neither of them followed you or said anything to you.

You couldn't stop people from taking their revenge. You had done your best to be diplomatic. Evoking sympathy in hormonal teenagers wasn't something easily done, or maybe you were just shitty at it, but there was little else you could do. If you went ahead and retaliated, hurt them for hurting someone you cared about, the lines blurred.

You'd just be another mean girl.

Notes: Sorry for the delay! The next chapter will be the last one, unless I start rambling or something. After that, I'll do a less structured series of epilogues. Loosely related oneshots, that kinda vibe.

Also, my writing assistant stopped working in the middle of this, so if there's stupid typos I'll come fix them later.

I swear to fucking god if the taglist doesn't work I'll start breaking bones.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018

(this actually makes me angry. why. why doesnt it work. i type in the @ and then i type in the name and then it shows up in the lil' box and i click it but then it don't show up ;-;)

(this is cyber bullying. the cybers are bullying me.)

(anyway, if you want to be added to the taglist there is no gurantee if it'll work, but i'll add you if you want! just comment on this post :) if anybody has any ideas why it's like this, lmk!)

[ganondoodle]

since i have seen this argument pop up again and again and now its used to defend the minecraft movie

i really hate the argument that something, be it a movie or a game, can be as shitty as it wants when its primarily aimed at kids (or people THINK it is aimed mostly at kids) bc its 'just for kids'

like children are lesser an stupid? like they arent incredibly impressionable and deserve good movies? im not saying they should only watch critical acclaimed drama movies, but you can make a movie 'for kids' AND make it good, its been done before, sure there will always be shit movies, and thats fine, but dismissing any kind of criticism towards them bc "its just for kids" feels so unecessarily mean spirited towards children, like they are little people in wildly different stages of development!! they can think too!!

'kids' itself is such a wide range that i feel its not very useful as a category anyway, a 5 year old isnt the same as an 11 year old, both of them should get good things, and both can watch or play things they may not completely understand yet! i grew up with shrek, and while a big parody and haha fart humor movie, they (1+2) have an incredibly strong core, i didnt udnerstand them fully when i was little, so what? i still enjoyed them, i felt more connected to them than any disney movie (bc hey .. the monster is the main guy and no they dont all turn into conventionally pretty humans as the ultimate reward- i felt othered throughout my life too) and i still do, theres jokes and themes and meaning i understood fully only when i was rewatching them as an adult, i still enjoy them even at 27

and like, shouldnt it ESPECIALLY matter what children watch? (not in the puritan brain worm way) bc they are ... people in development?? do you think if they just sit down and watch shitty movies and play games that dont challenge them at all, be it thinking critically or emotionally, all day it wont have an affect on them??

(im sorry to bring up totk again, but that 'its for kids' argument has been used to defend it so much too, and its so incredibly annoying to me, ah yes, its puzzles are all skippable or easy as shit bc its main target are kids and children are stupid and shouldnt be challenged ever, the story is a simple fairytale type deal maybe to you, but contains alot of harmful stereotypes that have led to real world harm and its repeated unquestionably while offering nothing intersting to think or engage with, theres a reason alot of childrens media contains alot of stereotypes to propaganda even but its just for kids of course its not propaganda bc kids are stupid and cant understand that lol BECAUSE they are so impressionable, if a series 'for kids' only lets the girls be in frilly pink dresses and do 'girly' stuff do you not think that wil affect how they think about themselves??

if they keep seeing the light skinned blonde heroe stab the unquestioned evil arab stereotype bc he wants to take over your holy land bc hes just 'evil' and is never ever humanized in any way and only presented as a monster, while the good little maiden princess does everything she can to support her hero in shiny armor with big sad doe eyes and pretty little white dress- do you not think it will affect them? if it were an isolated incidence perhaps not much, but its a stereotype perpetuated to such a degree that you think its just 'how fairytales go'? yeah, you have been influenced by these portrayals, they are working as intented- and if they are used as such in media without the writer intending to influence you that way? thats even worse bc it means it has been so normalized to think that way people dont even realize it- while alot of real people in the world are ganondorf, they are demonized and dehumanized, others think of them as inherently evil.. but its just a "simple fairytale"

yes i know children can also question things on their own, but you shouldnt assume that comes naturally and then also in just the correct way, i questioned why i was just doing whatever the talking boat told me to do when i first played windwaker as a kid, but more bc i liked how ganondorf looked and hated being told things to do without a good reason being given (autism much?), 'evil' didnt do it for me, but that doesnt mean i knew he was an evil arab stereotype, i didnt like tetra turning white as zelda, bc i thought she looked cooler before and i didnt like 'girly' things myself, not bc i knew it was whitewashing

-not saying media should be free of anything 'problematic', the problem is how its presented and never questioned or engaged with critically and then that stupid argument being used to dismiss it like children are both unable to think and not influencable somehow-)

[losergender]

pjo / hoo headcanons i have collected since my hyperfix came back

ignore the huge amount of nico and will. six years after reading the series i'm still obsessed with them </3

nico helps cabin 11 steal candy from the infirmary because everyone knows will can't stay mad at him for longer than 5 minutes

the apollo kids gifted nico a bunch of mythomagic packages after learning he had burnt his collection so he could start a new one. he thought it would not be as exciting but turns out he really really missed collecting them from zero because he had gotten used to getting doubles all the time

on the same note, cabin 7 (and specially will) try to learn to play so he has someone to play with. will and him always exchange doubles and sometimes he sacrifices good cards for mid ones just so will doesn't have a mid deck

nico once got a double perseus card and gifted it to percy

the first times nico played his favorite music to hazel she was flabbergasted by the emo genre but didn't want to be mean so she smiled and said it was "very cute"

leo calls will "güerito"

connor stoll owns a nintendo switch that used to be his and travis' (mostly travis') until he accidentally almost destroyed it and it became only his (the screen has a sepia filter to it, one of the joysticks needs adhesive tape to stay in place, it works slowly and the screen has cracks on it). when he can't sleep (because who in camp half-blood can sleep properly?) he plays pokémon until he falls asleep. he is also a big fortnite and minecraft fan.

lou ellen knows how to do balloon modelling

nico once asked chiara about what has italy been doing the past century and she showed him winx club like it was the most important thing italians did (and it is)

percy and will love teen beach movie

austin lake takes it upon himself to show nico all the music he missed during the past decades + the reason cabin 7 learns nico doesn't know any song from after 1942 is that they invite him to play a letter association game and he opts out because of this (the game is forgotten right after because having him listen to the classics is more important). no one suspected he didn't listen to modern music because 99% of his clothes are band shirts he got from percy and thalia.

will was obsessed with hannah montana / miley cyrus as a child (the climb is his favorite song)

connor didn't go to college with travis because he doesn't know what to study yet but instead he spent the year getting his driver's license

each cabin gets a "call home" day every other few days (initiative promoted by the iris cabin)

children of tyche's fatal flaw is impostor syndrome because they are constantly afraid everything they have is undeserved and just a product of their godly heritage

will's favorite dessert is texan sheet cake , nico's is panna cotta

the aphrodite cabin didn't like that nico was the only one with a personalized camp shirt (they are so done with the color orange...) so they started an initiative to get every cabin personalizes shirts with a representative color voted by the head counselors and their cabins number.

the iris and hermes cabins got together to start a camp half-blood magazine released monthly for year-rounders. they do a gossip section about couples at camp (for which they "hired" a child of aphrodite as their correspondent), interviews to the seven or to popular campers, the athena cabin added a crossword section...

[kanmom51]

Jikook in Japan November 2023

What we have so far.

First thing first, I want to thank all of you for your good wishes in the comments to my last post. I did miss you guys, and I'm hopefully on the mend, if not fully there yet.

So, JM and JK in Japan. Do we all see just how big that is? We know just how important their trip was in 2018, they told us all about it ever since. And now we have them travelling to Japan again, one last trip before enlistment. Together. They spend time in Tokyo (we know cause they flew into Tokyo - great detective work going on here - and the pics that JM posted on his IG - and I'll get to that soon too). But they are also travelled to Sapporo, where they are right now. Sapporo, where this happened back in 2016, just to remind you all.

Anyways, let's go back a sec to their departure. Cause why not, really?

As they walked into the terminal JM signalling JK to come in closer to him.

And after going through the departure doors while waiting for their security check.

Same same...

JM came to us last night posting on IG with two "my boyfriend too my photo" pics.

Are they doing a walk down memory lane? Is JM sending us down memory lane? I mean, let's get real here. They know. They see it all. They knew about the threats and hate preceding their trip, they know about Jikookers talking up this trip, Jikookers love of GCFT. And in saying that, was his choice of pics posted just random or purposeful? My bet is on the latter. Everything JM does is thought out. That is, until he has JK standing right in front of him. That's when he loses control, lol. And that, my friends, is why JM is unwilling (and probably rightfully so, as hard as this is for me to admit) to go live with JK. I kind of think that JK realised the same of late, after that live tiddy grab, lol.

JM posted at 11:44 pm or 23:44 pm. And here are the numbers.

I'm done with "it's a coincidence", cause it is not. It wasn't when JK started lives at 11:08. It wasn't when JK posted his letter to Army at 6:13. And it's not now either. At this point that's what I believe. Take it or leave it.

And just incase those that saw them leaving for Japan and are still struggling to come to terms that perhaps the two are literally travelling together, we had someone that saw them together in said restaurant eating together, sitting at a table for 2 (and not for the lack of bigger tables available at the restaurant).

We also saw the two leaving for Sapporo. Of course, again, said very 'nice' - NOT - people having a field day with them not caught in one frame on their way out of Tokyo.

And I guess just for these 'nice' people's benefit (not really, but am I a bad petty person for being glad they got this right in their faces??) we had the two arriving in Sapporo TOGETHER.

Also looks familiar.

And did I mention the matchy matchy grey coloured sweatshirts?

At this point nothing surprises me anymore.

So Sapporo. A winter paradise. A city known for it's beer and breweries. The city that recognized same sex marriages. A known couples destination.

There have been sightings. And they are mostly keeping the information to themselves at the moment, seeing that the two are still in Japan. But, point being the two aren't hiding it. They are out in the open, together, enjoying themselves.

I know that they are having the time of their lives.

I know they are creating cherished memories for years to come.

I know that they are and will be happy!!!

I know that.

[rainboneish]

ngl i do kinda love the idea that Geto was kind of the glue that held Gojo and Shoko together in some ways and that’s why she never really managed to connect to Gojo as much after Geto was Gone.

it fits what the japanese VAs have said in the season 2 guide book (from the translations i’ve seen on twt anyway), about how Geto was the first person to really treat Gojo as a normal person and how Gojo used him as a guide for more than just morals

Obviously Gojo and Shoko have their own understanding and bond but Geto being the “translator” between the aspects of Gojo permanently shaped by being the Strongest/the one to kind of remind him how to be human and a person and show consideration for others (which is what most of their interactions in Hi are, from him telling him to ease up on Utahime (even if he is patronizing her) and later Riko, to the scene where he is concerned about him staying awake multiple nights in a row)

yes him reminding gojo to act proper is for politeness sake, which is a facade (a facade Geto is good at, sth shown in his cult leader days too, but still not a genuine character trait, hence why he also kinda fails to live up to it himself) but it is also him trying to meditate between Gojo and others (also partially why he was the one to tell Riko she had a choice, despite it originally being Gojo’s idea (obv Gojo wasn’t available at that point but they could have had that conversation earlier if he had wanted to be the one to have it)

Geto is also kind of shown on screen to be a mediator between Gojo and Nanami&Haibara (and Yuki but she doesn’t really fit in here because their relationship isn’t a personal one)

The first time Nanami and Haibara show up we don’t know for sure who communicated with them but it’s a fair assumption that it was Geto sending the text since Gojo presumably went back to playing around with Riko, Haibara also specifically mentions wanting to impress Geto (whether that’s because they are closer or because Geto is more likely to compliment their efforts is debatable but i think a combination of both is likely)

the only two other moments the both of them have are one on one interactions with Geto, and Gojo is brought up in both of them.

Haibara’s scene, Yuu running into Geto at the school, doesn’t have much to do with Gojo, until Geto brings him up. Haibara could have easily texted Gojo, and while the main thing this scene shows is Gojo’s absence (another reason why Yuu couldn’t ask him in person) and Geto still thinking of him when he is in such a bad headspace, it’s also another instance of Geto bridging the Gap between their schoolmates and Gojo.

Then we see Nanami’s scene with Geto over Haibara’s body, Geto telling Nanami that Gojo will handle the rest of the mission. Nanami responds with the much talked about “can’t he just handle everything” line and Geto is not in a state to respond. But once again Geto is the one having a conversation about Gojo (in Gojo’s stead), being treated as the go-between in Nanami’s venting.

(Even in the 236 airport scene, though i’m not gonna go too deeply into that one cause there are some differences in the translations )

Now, Gojo obviously still has relationships with Nanami and Shoko, as well as Yaga and other sorcerers, in the 11 years between Geto’s defection, but i think Geto’s defection could definitely have been one of the things that kept a distance between them.

Aspect of the Isolation of the Strongest aside (which is obviously the main reason for the distance between them),

their situation reminds me of when you have two close friends (or a couple) that hang out with a friend group in real life, where it’s mostly the more socially adept of the two who is putting in the work to stay in touch with their other friends (talking to the others and being the one who is being talked to on behalf of both of them, or always reaching out to one person cause the group knows the other person is probably with them anyway and will get the message)

so then when the two friends/couple drift apart or the more “connected” person leaves entirely for some reason (moving away, change of university/work), the remaining person often ends up losing contact with the friend group, not because the people involved don’t like each other, but because everyone got so used to the person who left acting as a mediator that they don’t really know/aren’t really used to keeping in touch/actively making plans together directly. Or they make an effort to hang out but end up feeling kind of awkward because everyone is so used to seeing the two people together that they suddenly find themselves unable to connect with the person who “lost” their close friend/partner

[unholycateyes]

happy 32 followers!!!

i just wanna say thank you all i did cat eyes as just a funny lil thing to gain some experience making comics for future projects so iwont stop cat eyes till i either get board demotivated or till its finished lolz!

i've been in the fandom for years but this is my first real project so im happy you all seem to like it!!! i have big big plans!!!

and because you all seem to love cat eyes i made a new au called

ROCKEFELL

Their are mostly designs i hope they will all be seeable lol

this is what i've been working on! RockeFell! see im a boig fan of nightcore and underfell designs i'm also a huge nerd for old forgotten aus so what if a bunch of old aus were pulled in to one singularity point and combined the result is rockefell

now while alot of them are just designs i do have a story in mind! (feel free to draw them tho!!!))

but ill save that for later cuz i cant forget the guest section of the drawing!

i wanna thank @mioplaces and @grumpyghostdoodles for letting me draw their lovely characters (i also wanna say for comic papyrus i took big inspiration off a drawing i saw on google so credit to that artist for their killer design!!) i like to think cat and comic papyrus are reoccurring characters in rockefell

more info on specific characters

here we have chara age 13 the future of skating chara records and uploads skate videos to the undernet chara has an obsession with curvature seeing the curves in time, light and space

they also have a theme i made just a lil demo tho!

next we have asriel "the fry" dreemurr asriel is 11 and loves to skate asriel also has a hidden innate ability within him other monsters do not posses nor boss monsters and if you cant tell he loves dragon ball!

next we have frisk and flowey!!! frisk is a bit of a mean "girl" not taking shit from no one! frisk is still kind and caring but likes to mess with people a delinquent with a heart of gold!l frisk and flowey are best pals as well also frisk has a knife called the devils blade

i did more than just characters tho i did backgrounds!!

the ruins! a vast city filled with monsters but monsters need a fast way to get around too so i present the ruins railways!! and hidden within the ruins long forgotten is the secret garden! golly i wonder what thats a reference too lol

next we have snowedin aka snowedin hills!

next we have underfall city

i have some music for this!!

its just a like down town kinda area filled with sea monsters under a big dome

then i did judgment hall for funs lol

i hope you all liked this i put like so much work in to it haha!

[abbyfmc]

Under the water

Submechanophobia: Irrational fear of man-made things submerged in water, whether boats, canoes, cruise ships, submarines, animatronics, or other mostly metal objects.

That being said, I can imagine a yandere boy (boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, or whatever) next to you, in situations related to this interesting phobia.

TW: Well, submechanophobia, harassment, probable psychological damage and yandere behavior.

[Y🔧A🔧N🔧D🔧E🔧R🔧E A🔧N🔧D🔧R🔧O🔧I🔧D]

🔧1- It could have been like I said, an android, a robot or a mechanical attraction that:

1.1- It could have been aquatic: That is, it operated or continues to operate in water attractions, whether partially or completely submerged in water.

1.2- It was abandoned: It no longer operates because it had many continuous failures, malfunctioned or simply stopped being profitable and therefore, it ended up abandoned in a very humid place or under water.

1.3- Flood: The place where it operated was flooded in catastrophic and irreparable ways.

2. I'd like to think that you would be a worker, or the engineer who was in charge of maintaining it personally (and therefore, you spent a lot of time with it). You did constant maintenance as a daily job, and on a few occasions "emergency maintenance"; repairing possible faults on him.

3. Everything was going well until your attraction was "temporarily" closed for whatever reason, the android or yandere robot found out, he had faith in seeing you again.

4. --Well, maybe she's busy today.-- He said when a day went by without seeing you after his attraction closed.

5. --Well, maybe she's on vacation. I'm looking forward to seeing her so she can tell me everything during my maintenance.-- I would say after a few days or weeks. He still has hope of seeing you again, specifically you.

6. --My water is getting dirty and I haven't seen her for a long time. I don't like this at all; has something happened to her? -- It must have been many months or a year and by now the standing water is mouldy and very dirty; she hasn't seen you or any other worker for a year or two, so she can't ask anyone about you either.

7. He slowly realized that he was abandoned by his creator company, but he refused to believe that he was abandoned by you. He was hoping that you would come back, talk to him, and maintain him again. But the years passed and he only began to rust and rot more and more.

8. Fortunately for him, the company that owns the theme park called you and others to inspect the facilities in detail to determine the future of each area.

9. You decided to visit your old work area, not knowing that he is still there, alive and waiting for you.

10. Everything was bad. The paint was peeling, rusty and damp; some parts had fallen off; there was a lot of noise everywhere; it was damp due to the place being there; not to mention the terrible smell of mouldy, stagnant water that hasn't been changed for years. You and your team walked around the site, not imagining that you weren't alone, as your old friend noticed your presence and worse yet… he had seen you.

11. I was happy to see you, but I HATED seeing your teammates with you. I thought they were the ones responsible for taking you away from him, and there was no way I was going to let you go this time.

12. He would kill your team one by one, coming out of the water to drag them and drown them in the dirty water.

13. No, he won't accept you leaving him and abandoning him once again. He will play hide and seek with you and come out of the water to look for you. Once he finds you, you would see how the water and the passing of time affected him; he will come to you, pick you up and take you with him to be together once again, like in the past.

14. He would sense your terror at seeing him not only submerged, but at the fact that he has somehow come to life, remembers you, and is willing to drown you if it means you'll stay together until the end of your days.

-The End.

So, what do you think about it?

I've never seen any stories about yandere boys (especially androids or robots) related to this phobia, so I decided to take the risk and see how it goes. I'm not lying, I like the concept of a yandere android or robot that has been abandoned and when you return to the place, he's already waiting for you.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 65)

Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (11) / Lucy Bronze x Reader (55)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Join our WOSO Discord chat! Link in bio :)

((** 4.6k**))

Mostly Leah and Jordan :)

Leah POV

“I didn’t wake you, did I? I completely blanked… you stopped replying and I didn’t even think.” Leah stressed as she drove.

“No, no, you’re all good. I’m a little too wound up to sleep for long until Luce gets home, I think. I’m just waiting for the next shoe to drop with this whole drama.”

“Is Ridley still there?”

“She left after I fell asleep, she has some meetings in town.”

“So you were asleep?”

“Barely… it’s okay. It’s probably a good thing you have someone to talk to for your drive…” She cleared her throat and yawned. “Oh shit, did you see Beth scored a brace?”

“No?! I was there for her first. First one back since her ACL, I was crying.”

“That’ll be you soon, mate.”

“Not this year,” she almost grumbled.

“Oh? January?” YFN’s tired voice piped up with excitement for her.

“I’m hoping so. I feel bad for leaving – I should be there to celebrate with Beth after the game.”

“Okay stop right there, that’s your anxiety talking. Beth knows that you needed to do go.” YFN’s support calmed Leah, and she knew she’d called the exact right person.

“Yeah… wait, did you speak to her?”

“I’m always chatting with the girls. A few of them are coming over after the game actually. It was last minute. I think Kyra got excited when she saw Lucy and invited herself and-”

“-and the rest of the girls jumped on board?”

“Something like that,” she laughed wearily. “So it’s a good thing I’m awake because I need to organise some food for when they get here.”

“Don’t you go over-exerting yourself mate.”

“Pfft, I’ve spent the last week laying or sitting… I’m happy to hop around and stretch my leg.”

Leah laughed at the way she’d said that. Her one leg. “You’ll have two legs next week!”

“Hopefully the doctor’s okay with me walking on it. I get to switch from a wheelchair to sexy walking stick. I really hope it’s okay enough to because I’m worried about Luce’s knee when she carries me everywhere.”

“Not surprised. Has her knee been acting up?”

“At the risk of getting her in trouble with her England Captain… yes. It’s been a bit swollen and I can tell it’s giving her pain. She tries to hide it.”

“She’ll never admit it’s sore, especially while you’re still healing.”

“I know, she’s a pain. I’ve been massaging it and insisting she ice it, though. She and Alexia have been working out and training together, so I just hope she’s being careful.”

Leah heard the worry in her voice and it made her think about Jordan. She was never nervous to watch anyone play… except Jordan. She couldn’t bear to watch her be pushed around. She was only small, after all.

“She’s been through this a lot, YFN. She knows her limits better than anyone I know. She’ll definitely be looking after herself.” Leah reassured her.

“Mmn. I know you’re right; I just worry.”

“Well let me distract you then. I spoke to Jill and Alex and they’re both excited for the podcast idea. They said you’ve been chatting with them?”

“Not as much as I’ve wanted to because of this drama, but yeah I’ve chatted to them a few times over the week. Alex is coming over tomorrow to talk a bit more about it all, and we’ll catch up with Jill when we go to Manchester next week.”

“Oh? Lucy’s missing home?”

“Always. Missing home and family so we’re going to see them.”

“When will you be back? I’m happy to do my interview whenever.”

She heard her clicking on what was potentially her laptop. “Uh… so next week I have pencilled in to bring a few of the girls into the office and do some interviews there.”

“Didn’t work out at your house?”

“Oh, no it definitely did,” she yawned again. “I figured it would build morale of my staff to meet some players, and we’ve set up a big studio there for content… and there’s a wall I’d like you all to sign.”

“A wall?”

“Just a little side-project of mine,” she chuckled. “It’ll make sense when you see it. Viv’s just been subbed on.”

“What minute?”

“Eighty-second.”

“Looks like overtime?”

“I missed most of the game but maybe three to five minutes.”

“A good ten minutes at least then. She’s been dying to stretch her legs out there.”

“They’re long enough.”

Leah laughed. She was glad she’d called her; their conversation was calming her at almost the same rate that she became more anxious as she got closer to Villa Park. YFN must have noticed.

“Are you far out?”

“Thirty minutes out. I was thinking of stopping and getting her some flowers. What do you think?”

“Well she loves flowers. I think she’d really like that Leah…” Her voice softened. “Just remember what I told you about when she sees you.”

Leah nodded even though she knew she couldn’t see it. ‘You watch her face when she sees you, Leah. In that first split second that it takes to recover her expression… you’ll see everything she’s feeling.’

This is why Leah thought she was so nervous. What if she was angry she hadn’t told her… or showing how heartbroken she still was? It would hurt, but Leah knew she’d accept whatever came her way, as it was all her own doing. She just wanted her, and their life back – though only if Jordan wanted that too.

“I will.”

“Are you sitting close to the benches?”

“Right near them in the family and friends’ section, yeah.” She didn’t know if she was imagining her voice wavering, or if it actually was.

“She’s going to be excited to see you, mate. I promise.”

Leah arrived just in time for the girls to exit the tunnel, having been delayed in the flower shop procrastinating over which was the best for her. She put it in the back seat of her black Mercedes, right next to the toy she’d bought for Blu.

She couldn’t believe how nervous she was, and YFN was right there with her, on the phone and then texting back and forth with her after they’d hung up. She knew she was busy with the Arsenal and West Ham girls dropping by, but she still made time for her. A few weeks ago, Leah would have thought she was doing it for Jordan’s sake, but she’d gotten so close to the Australian that she knew it was for hers also.

She sat in her assigned seat, saying a polite hello to the people she knew, and felt herself almost hyperventilate when Jordan entered the pitch in the starting line-up. She’d never had this reaction to her – or anyone before. It confused her, but at the same time, it made her realise just how much she meant to her. Jordan was looking too small for her clothes as always, her shorts and socks almost reaching each other. She wore that expression she did when she was on the pitch, her serious face. Football was serious for Jordan, and that was evident by just how aggressive and impatient she was on the pitch; a sharp contrast to what she was usually like in person. So sweet and kind and shy almost. Her Jordan. She felt her body tingling and her hands shake a little as she watched her taking their line-up photos and start to play.

Leah’s phone dinged and she looked down.

YFN: A bit of a healthy distraction for you.

YFN sent a photo.

YFN sent a photo.

The first was a photo of the group who’d invaded Lucy and YFN’s house. YFN had obviously asked Lucy to take a selfie of the group as they were all doing strange poses to the camera mid eating or talking, standing and sitting. Most of the Arsenal girls were there, along with half of the West Ham team. She grinned at the photo.

The second was a photo obviously taken from YFN’s position on the couch, pointing at Beth who was showing two fingers, Katie hanging off her with a ‘COME ON’ expression for Beth’s brace.

YFN’s efforts to distract her from herself were definitely working.

Leah: You’re not getting sleep anytime soon. *melting face emoji*

YFN: My bigger concern is that I didn’t order enough for a fucking tribe.

Leah chuckled. The girls were always extra hungry after games. She should have warned her. She looked up to see the ball nowhere near Jordan, and looked back down again to reply.

Leah: Why do I feel like I’m going to get home, and the party will still be going?

She looked back up to see Jordan crash into someone. She touched the ball, but was still warned by the referee and threw her hands up. That made her smile. That is… after she’d stood up and she knew she was okay.

Her phone buzzed.

YFN: Come 9pm I’ll be dragging them out kicking

YFN: That was Lucy ^^ but she’s not joking. *nervous laugh emoji*

YFN: She gets grumpy when she’s tired.

Leah knew that all too well, having been in many camps with Lucy.

Leah: She’s worse when she’s hungry!

YFN: I’ve learnt to sort that out before it becomes a problem.

YFN sent a photo.

It was a selfie of YFN sitting in the corner of the couch and angled up to Lucy not so elegantly stuffing her face. Regardless of Lucy’s full mouth, YFN looked at her with an expression of adoration. They looked so happy. Leah craved that happiness she’d once had with Jordan. For seven years they were the envy of the party and sitting in the stands now, watching her play from afar, she cursed herself for taking that… for taking her for granted.

She put her phone down to watch her play, again adoring the way Jordan jogged after whoever had the ball, her shorts almost falling off of her, and then attacking the players with the ball whenever she was close. It was evident just how much she loved the game. And as if all of that wasn’t adorable enough, she wore black gloves to fight the cold she felt. There wasn’t much to her, so she was always cold. Their house always needed to be hot enough that she didn’t feel the cold, but Leah had always sneakily liked to have it just the perfect temperature that she’d snuggle into her as they slept or tuck herself into her body on the couch or as she just went about her day. She too loved their hugs, just as much as Jordan. The way she fit into her body was like it was made for her. Jordan was so affectionate that she’d always kiss her neck in thanks.

Not recently of course. Recently there had been the soft hugs without the kissing, and without the talking. It was nice, but she missed all of it.

Jordan was knocked to the ground hard as she went for the ball and Leah flinched, leaning to the edge of her seat to get a better view. When Jordan didn’t get up straight away, she stood with several of the crowd and watched worriedly. As more people stood, she was up on her tip-toes to peer over everyone to see Jordan clutching her knee and the medics run over. Her heart sunk.

The teams used the opportunity to chat while she was being seen to, her face contorting in pain. Leah didn’t want to admit to herself that the smallest part of her wanted something to be wrong so she’d have time off and Leah could look after her. She felt so ashamed and shoved the thought aside as her other feeling took hold. ‘Not the knee,’ she thought. ‘Please not the knee. Get up Jord. Please get up.’

Someone tried to get her attention and she brushed them off, her eyes only on Jordan. The medics helped for several minutes until Jordan was standing again and hobbling across the pitch. She wanted to stay on.

Of course she did. She loved playing football.

They stopped for half time an even nil score, and Leah waited for Jordan to look up and see her as she wandered towards the tunnel, but she didn’t. To say she was disappointed would be an understatement. She let herself mingle with the people around her who she knew, and fifteen minutes later, the girls were re-entering the pitch. Jordan hadn’t been subbed, which was great, and although it wasn’t yet dark, it was even colder and she couldn’t help but stress about her getting sick. It was raining now, and so cold she could see her breath as she jogged back out. Her knee looked to be okay though, which was a good sign.

The first goal came in the 54th minute by an unfortunate own goal from Aston Villa’s Anna Patten. Jordan looked frustrated as she shook her head and jogged back to her spot.

It only took a minute for Rachel Daly to score an equaliser, Leah smiling as she watched Jordan jump and shout excitedly, though she didn’t run to celebrate with her team. There was something different about watching her with Villa. Leah had noticed watching Jordan’s games that she didn’t look as happy when she celebrated with Villa, and she’d always wondered if she was just biased, though seeing her not celebrate with them made her realise she wasn’t imagining it. She remembered the giant grin on her face as she used to run and jump into their group when she celebrated with Arsenal. She was always so light that Leah could barely feel her as she ran and jumped onto her.

Oh, Jord. She missed seeing her at training every day. But it wasn’t even that. As she watched her, she missed living together, driving in together, training together, going home together. They’d always sit next to each other when travelling and share hotel rooms.

She was ripped from her thoughts by Jordan stealing the ball in a clean move. She smiled. The game was back and forth pretty even following that, though Aston Villa were controlling the ball more. They just couldn’t seem to get past the Everton defence. It started raining heavier and Leah pulled her coat tighter around her. A penalty kick to Everton in the 74th minute had Jordan throwing her arms up again in frustration. The kick came… and it was a goal. It wasn’t looking good.

Three minutes later, Jordan was subbed off. She walked off looking defeated, though as she high-fived her subbed teammate at the boundary line, her head raised as if she knew she was there. Mid high-five her eyes caught Leah’s and she froze. Leah stopped breathing as she watch Jordan’s eyes widen with… yearning. Her eyes reflected the emotions Leah felt. Jordan recovered her expression and looked at the substitute, dropping her hands. As she stepped off the field, she let herself look back up with wonder. She could see the happiness in her eyes that she was there. Leah gave her a smile and a wave. Jordan didn’t wave back, but she did smile shyly as she ducked onto the bench where she could no longer see her.

Only then, could Leah breathe again. YFN was right. That surprised expression from Jordan had showed her everything. She wanted her, just as much as Leah did. She breathed a deep breath out and the built up anxiety disappeared with it. She should have never been worried. She knew Jordan.

The game ended 1-2 to Everton, and Leah stood in the stands until the girls disappeared into the tunnel. Jordan had looked up again only once… fleetingly, but Leah had seen it. She grinned to herself at that as she made her way outside to her car. She was hindered a few times by fans and autographs but by the time she stepped foot outside, her phone buzzed. She excitedly grabbed at it, assuming it was Jordan, but it wasn’t. She stopped at her car and looked down disappointedly at the notification on her phone.

“You’re here?” Came a slightly out of breath voice behind her.

She spun around to see Jordan standing all rugged up in her puffer jacket, her nose red and her legs looking freezing where they weren’t covered.

“I… came to see you play.”

Half of Jordan’s face was hidden beneath her collar, and Leah couldn’t tell if she was upset.

“Did I overste-”

She was interrupted by Jordan’s body meeting hers, her head finding her shoulder, forehead pressing against her neck. Jordan’s hands slid around Leah’s body inside her coat to keep warm. Jord. Leah’s arms were moving around her before she even told them to, holding her close and keeping her warm. It felt right to let them stay in their silence for a while until Jordan was ready.

“Thank you for coming to watch my game.”

She let her head lean against Jordan’s. “Of course I came. You pencilled in a hug, remember? I didn’t want you to drive so far after your game.”

She let out a grateful sigh and pressed herself further into Leah. “Thank you, Lea. I’m really tired.”

“Would you like to reschedule?”

A few fans must have spotted them then and Leah saw them getting excited and start to run over from the stadium.

“No!” She stressed and pulled back. “No… we can still-”

“-did you drive?” Leah cut off.

“One of the girls drove me…” She responded, unsure about Leah’s change of pace.

“Do you have all of your things?” She asked, gesturing to her backpack.

“Yeah.. I mean I think so-”

Leah took her bag off and opened her passenger door. Jordan hesitated, still unsure about Leah’s impatience. Leah saw her hesitating and softened. “Let me drive you home please, Jord.”

Jordan’s eyes wandered over Leah’s face before she nodded and slipped into the car. As quickly as she could, Leah placed her backpack in the back seat and jumped in the driver’s seat as the mob of fans were almost on top of them. She saw Jordan’s eyes widen in realisation as Leah started the car and put some distance between them.

Most of the time, she’d be open and welcoming and go out of her way for the fans. Tonight, she just wanted to protect Jordan from that. She just wanted to get her home into where she knew she’d be warm and comfortable and could sleep.

Leah stopped the car abruptly at the exit of the car park.

“Lea?”

“I…” She turned to Jordan. “I don’t know where you live…” she admitted. She hated not knowing that.

Jordan gave her a supportive smile and leant forward towards Leah’s phone mounted to the dash. She paused, looking for permission first, but Leah wasn’t worried at all. She had nothing to hide from Jordan, ever, and she showed that by looking at her with patience. Jordan hid a smile as she typed her address into Leah’s phone and soon enough, they were on their way.

“Do you want to have dinner?”

“Are you sure you’re not too tired?”

“I’d like dinner with you…”

Leah smiled as she drove. She dared not look at her, but knew Jordan was watching her. She wanted to have dinner with her.

“We can do that, Jord. Whatever you want.”

“And maybe we can watch the Lord of the Rings?”

“I thought it scared you?”

“Well, yeah, but you like it.”

It also meant they had more time together, as they’d barely gotten through any of it that last time they were alone. She also liked the idea of Jordan hiding behind her at the scary parts. “You’re okay to stay up late?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s only gone seven. It’ll be done by eleven.”

Leah frowned. “I’m confused… you want to go out for dinner?”

“God no, I think we should order in.”

“We only had an hour and a half left, Jord.”

“Well, yeah, but I figured we could start at the beginning because I forgot what happened.”

Leah chuckled. It wasn’t beyond Jordan to forget, but as she snuck a look at her, she looked more like it was a sneaky excuse for more time together. “We can do that. I don’t mind a late drive.”

“You can stay… I can take the couch.”

Jordan’s obvious willingness to spend time with Leah softened her. She hadn’t felt so happy in a long, long time. Over a year, when she and Jordan were previously together.

“YFN offered me her bed on the condition that you let me stay…”

Jordan laughed. “Of course she did. You can take her bed then, we don’t want you driving home so late. Did she say anything else?”

“I just have a few things to pick up for her… clothes and what-not.”

“She said she wants to stick around London while she’s healing,” she nodded. “I’ll help you pack her stuff up.”

“Thanks Jord.”

There were a few minutes of silence then as Leah went into her own headspace, her face falling into its natural grumpy look as she did so. Jordan noticed.

“What are you thinking?”

Leah considered brushing her off, but she knew better now. “I have something to tell you but I don’t want it to ruin the night. You just need to know.”

“Okay…”

“The video is handled.”

She waited for questions, for emotion, but there was none. She replied after a few seconds of thought. “Okay, Lea.”

Lea pulled into the driveway and put the car in park, turning to look at her. “Okay?”

Jordan nodded and gave her a little smile. “Okay, Lea. I trust you.”

“Okay…” she replied huskily and reached into the back seat. “This is for Blu,” she said as she handed her the toy. She reached back again. “And these are for you.”

Jordan took the flowers with an excited expression. “Thanks, they’re pretty. And you can give this to him if you want… I think he’s going to be excited to see you.”

She handed the toy back to Leah.

Blu was all over her when they entered the apartment. She chuckled and gave him love and pats before his attention turned to Jordan. Leah couldn’t help but look around her and take in the place Jordan now called home. It suited her. She recognised all of the photos and little trinkets she had around, and the smell was even the same with the incense she liked to burn. And it was warm… Jordan warm.

They ordered take-away and Leah played with Blu while Jordan showered and changed. As they waited for their food, they found a vase for the flowers and packed the few clothes and items YFN needed in London. They chatted, laughed, and caught up with the recent activities in each other’s lives. Jordan shared her frustrations about her game and Leah cheered her up with photos YFN had sent her of the chaos at her and Lucy’s apartment. It felt so normal. She was happy for them to be talking again, and their recent silent dates together had developed a sense of calm and comfort in those silent moments between them.

The food arrived and they settled onto the couch with blankets and began the movie. Jordan let Leah set Blu up in his little bed in front of them and he fell asleep quickly. He was always a big sleeper, tired from walking around on those little legs all day, Leah imagined with a chuckle at the thought. There were sat close enough that their arms were partially against each other and Leah relished the moments where Jordan had to pause eating to hide her head behind her shoulder at the scenes that scared her. Jordan finished eating first, obviously, as she was so tiny she barely ate anything and the next time she came up from her hiding place behind Leah, her head stayed on her shoulder, her hand gently holding her arm. Leah let her rest in that spot, trying to keep her movements small as she ate with her left hand. After only a few minutes, though, she felt uncomfortable. She put her food down on the coffee table and sat back again, Jordan laying back down on the spot she’d claimed. Leah lasted another ten minutes until she wriggled uncomfortably, unable to keep still.

Jordan lifted her head. “Are you okay, Lea?”

“I…” she paused and pulled herself in check. Honesty always. “It’s just the cramps. They’re bad today.”

“Your endo?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. The drive had been bad enough.

Another cramp seized her and she squeezed her eyes shut and shuddered in pain.

“Did you bring your medication?”

“It’s in my bag,” she groaned.

“Stay here.” Jordan said as she stood, pausing their movie and taking the food to the kitchen. She returned quickly and leant over the couch, giving her a glass of water and her painkillers.

“Thanks, Jord.”

“Is it your lower back too?”

She nodded as she swallowed the pills, angry at herself for again ruining a night with Jordan.

She disappeared again and Leah heard the microwave, and the fridge doors.

“Do you need help?”

“I’m fine, just putting the food away. Give me a minute.”

The microwave finished and Leah heard the door opening and Jordan padding back over with two heat packs. Her mouth parted in awe as she looked up into her eyes. Jordan was taking care of her.

“Lay down, Lea.” She said as she guided her down, pulling a pillow under her head. Leah did as she was told, letting herself be looked after by her. Jordan gently put her on her side facing the tv, and placed a heat pack on her lower abdomen, and her lower back, tucking them into the waistband of her pants and pulling her shirt back down.

“Feel better?”

Leah couldn’t speak, so she just nodded.

“Do you need anything else?”

She was about to shake her head when she stopped herself and instead tugged lightly on Jordan who smiled. She took the remote and pressed play, slipping behind Leah, under the blanket. She pulled another pillow over so her head was higher and hesitantly, her hand found her abdomen which she tenderly rubbed in circles above her shirt. They’d done this so many times over the years, but this time it felt more personal, and even more special.

“Can you see the tv?” She murmured, relishing the feel of a warm Jordan pressed up against her back, her arm slung over her.

“Yeah.”

Leah inhaled sharply again at another cramp. Jordan paused her circling to hold pressure against the heat bag over her lower abdomen. That always helped.

“Why didn’t you cancel?”

“I told you I won’t make another mistake.”

She’d thought back to the promise she’d left her in a note, ‘…that was the last fault I’ll make…. no more mistakes…’

Jordan was silent for a moment as she thought about that. Her hand began circling her abdomen again reassuringly. “How do you feel?”

“Comfy.” Leah responded, proud of her little inside joke as she felt and heard Jordan chuckle behind her.

And then she felt Jordan’s lips touch the nape of her neck and linger, pouring affection and reassurance into her. Leah leant back into the kiss and felt that feeling she’d been missing for so long.

She felt like she was home.

[ange1sang]

sweetface, angelface

2.2k words

; canon compliant/post season 11, domestic fluff, sibling love, gallavich, fiona and ian + fiona and mickey, past regrets, mild hurt/comfort but mostly just sweet

Ian and Mickey's West Side apartment is silent when Fiona lets herself in with the spare key she borrowed from Lip. The quiet is thick in a way that it never was back in the Gallagher house - quiet always meant something terrible had happened, and rarely lasted more than a minute or two in their neighbourhood - and Fiona has to pause to take it in with a deep breath.

Lip had warned her that her visit was poorly timed. Ian had been climbing up the mental steps towards another high which had resulted in a quick and easy adjustment of his medication, and while Ian was resilient and experienced after so many years of learning the ins and outs of being bipolar, it had still left him sleepy and distant as his brain got used to the change in chemicals. He'd been off work for half a week - a long time for someone finding their footing in the real world - and Mickey had taken the past couple of days off to take care of his husband, something that had taken Fiona back to Ian's first depressive episode as soon as Lip had told her. Mickey's determination to take care of Ian, his hardheaded love for her little brother, and the fear in his eyes as he rambled about the sudden shift in Ian's behaviour.

She'd been less than supportive back then, knowing that Ian needed real treatment more than he needed love in that moment, but hearing now how Mickey's determination has persisted for years longer than they'd ever expected had made her heart ache.

Ian had always been her baby. Since that first night Frank left her and her only siblings at the time out on the street and she'd carried a feverish Ian and teary Lip to the clinic he'd been her baby. Lip was the second oldest, a role that came with signifcantly less responsibility but still enough of it for him to be her rock through those first few years of playing house all by herself. But for the years before Debbie was born Ian had been the youngest, the one who needed the most care, and even after their other siblings were born and Ian became Lip's best friend instead of just his little brother, the need to take care of him had lingered for Fiona.

It didn't help that Ian was so sweet and kind, always wearing his heart on his sleeve in a way that Fiona and Lip never did. He was vulnerable, and even when he kept his aches and pains to himself it was obvious when he was hurt. She wanted, always had wanted, to shelter him from as much as she could, even when she had too much on her plate to know his whereabouts or the names of kids bothering him at school.

Despite the desire to keep him safe, Fiona knew that he had slipped through the cracks more often than his siblings had. Maybe it was the sweet smile he gave her when she asked if he was alright, maybe it was the resilience that shone through when he started navigating his sexuality by himself, maybe it was his dreams of the army and the tough guy exterior he put on whenever he talked about West Point. Whatever the reason, he'd been left behind when she fussed over Lip being in school, when Debbie got pregnant, when Carl came back from juvie. He was the apple of her eye, but he was so meek sometimes that it was easy to focus on the rest of the kids and what they needed from her.

She knows now that she could've done more. That she should've been glad Ian was with Mickey instead of some guy who was old enough to be his father, who there'd been far too many of without any of them stopping to question what the hell those men were doing with their brother. She should have fought to bring him home when he ran off to the army the same way she fought to bring Lip home after he dropped out, and she should've done more than turn a blind eye when he started working at clubs and came home skinny, high out of his mind with eyeliner still smeared around his lashline. She should've carried him to safety, the same way she did that night when it was just the three of them alone in the world for the first time. There was no way she could have done a perfect job at raising all five of the kids - she knows that too - but her heart aches when she thinks of the times Ian slipped through all of their fingers without a safety net to catch him.

She owes Ian, forever her little brother and the only sibling she calls 'sweetface', for not trying to understand him better. For not trying harder to love the only boyfriend who had been there through the first highs and lows without ever turning his back on him. Ian did okay even without those things, she can see as much as she looks around the little apartment. The family photos in frames on the TV stand, the taupe couch with only one stain, the coffeetable with a half-full ashtray she recognises from their old home. He did okay because, despite being a softer kid than any of them had the courage to be, he was strong. She smiles when she spots a wedding picture hung above the TV, Ian and Mickey holding each other's faces like the rest of the world had fallen away at that moment. She wishes she'd been there, will likely wish as much for the rest of her life, but she's here now and has to hope that's enough.

The clattering of dishes pulls her out of her thoughts. She can hear coffee being put to brew, the soft shuffle of socked feet coming from the kitchen. She blinks back the dull ache in her chest and makes her way to the source of the noise, smiling when she sees Mickey leaning against the counter, an unlit cigarette between his lips as he puts two Pop-Tarts in the toaster. He startles at her presence but smiles as soon as he sees her.

"Hey Fi," he greets, setting aside his cigarette and allowing her to hug him hello without a struggle, which is a win for Fiona even if he doesn't really return the touch. He's softer in their new environment she realises, more relaxed than he ever was when he was in the same neighbourhood as his family. She pulls back and gives his arm a squeeze, smiling warmly at the sight of the wedding ring on his finger.

"Hi angelface," she says. Mickey immediately turns to the doorway, looking for something before he freezes and turns his attention back to Fiona, brows drawn tight together as he looks her up and down.

"Thought you were talking to Ian," he mumbles, pulling away from her touch as though to get a better look at her. "Where the fuck did that come from?"

Fiona can't help but laugh, shrugging off her jacket and draping it over the back of one of the chairs at their kitchen table.

"Ian's always been sweetface," she says, watching how Mickey's expression softens as she says that. "I was thinkin' the whole way over that you ought to have a nickname too."

"Y'know, I was doin' fine without one," Mickey grumbles, but the furrow between his brows has disappeared, a half-amused smirk on his lips.

"Count yourself lucky you didn't get one the day he started lookin' at you like you hung the moon and fucking stars," she jokes, which makes him snicker. She thinks back to the days Ian and Mickey were just teenagers wrapped around each other's little fingers, smiling little smiles that they only shared with each other and falling asleep side by side in whatever cramped space was available to them, be it Ian's childhood bed or the worn and torn Gallagher couch. Mickey had been the farthest thing from an angel at the time and he's still pretty far off, but if she could go back she'd have started calling him angelface the second he proved he was in it for the long haul. She takes a deep breath and perches on the edge of the table. "How's he been?"

"Good," Mickey says quickly, not dismissively but confidently, his blue eyes fond as he glances towards the doorway again. "Sleepin' a lot but he's eating and keeping up a routine and all that shit. He"– Mickey hesitates here, eyes darting back and forth between Fiona's face and the floor as a flush climbs his cheeks. –"works real fuckin' hard, y'know? He doesn't want anyone to worry, not like when we were kids. He knows his shit and he fuckin'... He works hard."

Fiona smiles. She does know. Ian's never been half-hearted in anything he cares about, and hearing that he cares about taking care of himself soothes some of the worry that's always going to nag at her, wondering if he's got his head above water.

"Helps that he's got you," she says, giving Mickey some of the long overdue credit she never let him have before. Mickey rolls his eyes and his fingers twitch like he's going to flip her off but ultimately he just pulls out three mugs to pour coffee into. She smiles, recalling how he was with Mandy, bickering and cussing back and forth but always reserving a special kind of sweetness for each other that they didn't share with anyone else in their family. Fiona knows better than anyone that siblings can't be replaced, but him offering her a little of the friendliness he used to reserve for his little sister makes her happy.

"Fi."

Ian's voice, slow and rough with sleep, breaks the comfortable silence in the kitchen. Fiona jumps up and launches herself at her little brother in a tight hug, smiling into his shoulder when he wraps his arms around her.

"I didn't know you were coming over," he mumbles, tucking his face down into her shoulder the same way he used to do back when they were the same height. He has to bend his neck down to do it now, making himself smaller as she brings a hand up to run her fingers through his curls.

"Lip called after you went to sleep, didn't wanna wake you," Mickey explains, voice soft.

Fiona grins as she pulls away from him, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Hey, sweetface," she murmurs, pinching his cheek and pulling a whine from Ian. "Forgot how tall you are."

"You were gone for too long," he replies, but there's no hard feelings in his voice. She still thinks about the day she left, visiting him in prison and squeezing his hands tight so she wouldn't forget the warmth of his palms once she let go. His smile, supportive and sad and excited all at once had reflected all of her own feelings and tied her stomach in knots but also grounded her, reminding her that her family would always be here for her to come home to. She kisses his cheek again even though this too makes him whine before finally letting him go.

"Now that you got your own place I'll visit more often," she reassures him. Through the bleary, sleepy expression on his face Ian smiles.

"You better," he jokes, before stepping over to kiss Mickey's cheek. She watches them exchange gentle 'good morning's, Mickey's hand trailing up and down Ian's spine in a way that's so casual, so clearly the norm for them, that she has to look away before she gets teary-eyed.

They sit around the kitchen table, coffee mugs and Pop-Tarts and pills and cigarettes all carefully laid out in front of them. Seeing them go about their lives with her there, mumbling about bills and what they dreamt last night and whether or not the movie they've been wanting to watch will be easy to pirate, is the best gift she's ever received. Lip has his own family, Carl has a great job, Debbie is a better mother than Monica ever dreamed of being, Liam is cleverer than any of them and Ian is doing well. Better than well, even after everything he's been through, after being let down in ways Fiona will never be able to forget. They all did good with what they were given, but it's Ian's life - cozy and safe and domestic - that makes her happiest.

"You're never gonna guess what she fuckin' called me, man," Mickey says suddenly, drawing Fiona's attention back to the present. Ian raises an eyebrow and turns his attention to his big sister, already smiling before she says anything.

"You're sweetface, only makes sense if he's angelface," she defends the sappy nickname, giggling when Ian laughs out loud. Mickey is only slightly less amused, blushing when Ian reaches out to hold his hand.

"Makes sense to me, Mick," he says, which has his husband rolling his eyes.

"Course you'd side with her, fuckin' payback for me siding with Debbie one time, huh?" he mutters, which brings forth another round of teasing from Ian. Fiona listens to them and makes a mental note to ask about Mickey and Debbie later. For now she just steeps in the peace of their apartment, of the life they've carved out for themselves, and breathes a sigh of relief.

[svt-rosalie]

. . . ♡ ROSIE ! ? 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻 TRIVIA ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ profile! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

© 2024 , svt-rosalie rosalie masterlist!

𝜗𝜚. Rosalie always wanted to become a ballet dancer since she was a child, being an idol was a spure of the moment decision when she saw a video of SNSD performing once.

𝜗𝜚. Her aunt is well known in the kpop community seeing as how she owns the company ‘UTOPIA ENTERTAINMENT’ that manages the groups New Jeans, IVE, and ITGIRLZ.

𝜗𝜚. In 2021 Rosalie did resign a contract with Pledis Entertainment for her career with SEVENTEEN but the company has no power over her solo career, her Aunt’s company controls her solo career.

𝜗𝜚. Jihye does not drink alcohol often, whenever she does she basically has to have a babysitter because of everything she gets into.

𝜗𝜚. Rosalie is one of the youngest musicians and first ever female kpop artist to win a Grammy and an Oscar.

𝜗𝜚. Rosalie was invited to headline Coachella 2 years in a row but she declined each time.

𝜗𝜚. She likes to play video games so she can collect all the skins. For example, she’s amazing at playing Fortnite and Call Of Duty but mostly just plays for the skins and weapons. (Of course of her skins are pink)

𝜗𝜚. Rosalie featured on Taylor Swift’s album ‘Midnights’ on the song Snow On The Beach. This caused her to get a lot more recognition and attention towards her group once it released. She was even a surprise guest during the Eras Tour to perform the song on stage with Taylor. Rosie said it was one the most surreal moments of her career.

𝜗𝜚. Rosalie is Korea’s best friend. She earned this title from bringing friends with almost of the idol/acting industry. She loves making new friends and likes to speak to anyone that will listen.

𝜗𝜚. Rosalie likes to speak up often about mental health. In many live videos she’s spoken up about her struggles after her sister’s passing and how she’s been going to therapy since she started training as an idol.

𝜗𝜚. Rosie was a straight a student through her whole career. She carried a 4.0 GPA until she graduated high school and got accepted into a prestigious university where she takes online business classes.

𝜗𝜚. Rosalie broke her hip after falling during a ballet performance. She was lifted into the air by her fellow male dancer and his grip slipped causing her to fall on her left hip. She has a some issues with her hip to this day, swelling and pain.

𝜗𝜚. Rosalie had a slight school girl crush on Joshua when she was younger and just joined the company. She admitted it once in a live with him and it’s been a running joke in the fandom since.

𝜗𝜚. Rosalie wrote her song ‘Good night My Princess’ whilst she was visiting her family. She was having an emotional night and even though she’s an adult she crawled into bed with her parents and they sang a lullaby to calm her down.

𝜗𝜚. Rosie loves sweets. Anything candy she will eat, she has a candy basket in her’s and woozi’s bedroom on her bedside table.

𝜗𝜚. Rosalie wants to be a mom someday but unfortunately she is infertile due to some issues with her developmental when she was a fetus. She plans to adopt in the future.

𝜗𝜚. Rosalie was born prematurely. She was born 2 months early, doctors were worried she wasn’t going to make it but she pulled through after being on oxygen for 3 months. She would go to the doctor every month for a year or so to make sure she was doing okay.

𝜗𝜚. Rosie is engaged to fellow band member Woozi/Jihoon. Wedding plans are still the works.

taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea @swagcandyfun @wonwooz1 @s4nsmoon @seolarzone @miyx-amour @novwonia @marissa-11 @magicsoyeon @skzfairies

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[emisprocrastinatingbywriting]

Alone and Forsaken

Chapter 11 Summary:

After leaving Cooper back at the house, Paul takes you back to the one place you hoped to never return to. Hoping to persuade you, he takes you on a trip down memory lane but you aren't the woman Paul thinks you are anymore. Instead of a docile wife, he gets Joel fucking Miller's mate. (Good fucking luck pal) With Joel racing to get to the abandoned camp, can you keep Paul from doing anything brash before the love of your life can get to you? More importantly, can you keep your own anger from getting the best of you?

Warnings: Past Trauma Came Back to Be a Current Trauma, Reader Faces a Toxic Ass Ex, Violence, Threat of SA, Reader Needs a Fucking Hug, Joel Needs a Hug, Panicked and then Happier Reunions, Bits of Joel's Past Trauma Make Him Lose His Shit, Read with Caution

A/N:

Hey y'all! Aaaaand, we back! Hope everyone's week has been good. It is 4am and I have to get on a plane to Spain today at like 7, so let's jump right in.

So, this week is heavy on the violence. Reader is back at her old camp with Paul and they have a bit of a throwdown. Also trigger warning for, because it's Paul and he fucking sucks, threat of SA. Except this time it is definitly realer so, watch it if that is a problem for you. As always, take care of yourselves. Either way, reader and Joel DO reunite in this chapter. It just isn't... how you hope they will. And that is all I will say about that! Enjoy!

Chapter 11/20

Chapter 11: The Breaking Point

When you were five years old, the world had been turned upside down. That day haunted you for many reasons as it changed the trajectory of not only your life, but of the lives of the entire human race as well. However, that wasn’t what kept the day consistently fresh in your mind. Selfishly, it was the afternoon before the shit hit the fan that stayed with you even twenty years later. 

The day had been warm. It was your first year in kindergarten and you loved every moment of it. Learning new things and playing with other kids was everything you could’ve dreamed of. Being an only child, sometimes it felt that the only friends you had were your parents. Despite the usual worries about fitting in, you were quickly taken in by fellow classmates and were beginning to get comfortable in the new environment. 

Nevertheless, you had immediately ditched the group of new friends when your father had rolled up to the curb during recess in his beaten up Nissan. Running and shouting for him, you launched yourself face first into the driver’s side window and were met with boisterous laughter. After settling you in the front seat beside him, a treat that he had made you promise not to tell your mother about, he had taken you for an impromptu ice cream date. 

Even as a fully grown woman, when you remembered that day you could still taste the sweetness of the bubblegum ice cream that had made your hands sticky. Your father had listened to you babble about toys, games, the other kids in your class, and everything that a child’s brain experienced in the run of a day. Never once did he interrupt, other than to comment on the side characters or to agree with some point you had made. For a five year old girl, the day was perfect. 

That was until the sound of a slap had drawn your attention away from the tasty treat that dripped down your hands. Peering over from the picnic bench, you watched as an alpha gripped his mate’s arm hard and berated him in front of the ice cream truck. The omega looked a little afraid but mostly, you noticed that the poor guy just looked exhausted. If anything, you had been more afraid than he. 

In your five years of life, not once had you ever seen an alpha act like that. Your father was a sweet man who spent his time designing the layout of people’s dream homes in his office. When he wasn’t doing that, you had vague memories of him cooking and slow dancing with your mother when she got home from work. Not once had he hit her, nor anyone else, which meant that the sight of another alpha doing so was terrifying. 

“Stay here metuka, I’ll be back in a second,”he mumbled to you, rising from the table to diffuse the situation. 

An argument had broken out between your father and the frightening man, leading to the cops being called and the alpha being taken away in handcuffs. Your father had stayed with the shaken omega, comforting him until an older woman came to pick him up. The entire time, you watched the situation unfold. Half in awe, half in terror, the ice cream in your hand had melted entirely by the time your father returned. 

The vibrant pink treat was stuck to nearly every inch of your skin and clothes. Your father wasn’t mad, he never was. Instead, he had made a joke about it and brought you home for a bath. You remembered how the air was filled with your father’s words as he washed the stickiness from your skin, with him trying desperately to change your mood. It was only when he had moved to wash the suds from your hair that you finally piped up. 

“Why would he hit his mate like that papa?,” you whispered. 

His hands paused before they resumed their work. The shampoo he used was your favorite, boasting no tears for the kids that used it. However, anytime you tried to wash it out yourself, your parents would have to comfort their crying child as it burned your retinas. It was for that reason that you weren’t allowed to use it by yourself yet. Shielding your eyes from the watermelon scented suds, your father gently rinsed it from your hair as he pondered the question. 

“Sometimes alphas can be… Well, they can be mean. It isn’t right but they think they can act like that because they think omegas aren’t as good as them,” your father explained carefully. 

The notion of a world where one was above the other, where omegas were somehow lesser than, was new to you. Growing up, it had been your mother with the high paying job as a lawyer, while your father stayed home with you in lieu of daycare. It was only once you were enrolled in kindergarten that he had returned to his job as an architect. Although, he still only did it part time. With the money your mother was making, there was no need for him to jump back in right away and he preferred to spend time with you anyways. 

“But why?,” you pushed him, still not understanding why an alpha would hurt their mate. 

He hummed as the water finally ran clear, urging you to sit up so that he could wring the errant drops of water out of your hair. After pausing to think for a moment, your father had answered you in a voice so soft that you barely heard him. 

“People are only mean to other people to make themselves feel better. Alphas like that, they feel like they have to be scary or else they won’t be seen as strong. It has nothing to do with anyone but themselves.” 

You had blinked at that, unsure of what to make of such a statement. It was too big of a topic for a five year old. The idea of someone pretending to be anyone other than themselves was too large for the mind of someone who didn’t even know who they were yet. Still, you tried to understand as your father toweled you off, straining against the confines of a child’s mind to grasp the concept. 

“But…,” you paused before trying again, “But you aren’t mean papa.”  

He had laughed at that, looking up at you as he dried off your feet. Watching as his curls bounced against his forehead with his laughter, you felt as though you might start laughing alongside him. He always had that effect on people. As an adult, even as the lesser memories faded, you always remembered how talented the man was at drawing people out of their shells and making them smile. 

“Well thank you bubs but that’s how it’s supposed to be,” he chuckled. 

Reaching behind himself to grab the clothes on the sink, he continued to speak as he clothed you. 

“Promise me one thing, okay? I don’t know who you’re going to be when you get older, alpha, omega, beta, whatever, but just promise me you won’t be that guy. Or, if you present as an omega like mommy, promise me that you won’t be with someone like him. Okay?” 

His eyes had looked at you hopefully, hands pausing their efforts to roll your Little Mermaid socks on. You smiled at him. 

“I promise papa.” 

He nodded, “Good. Kindness isn’t something that I ever want you to opt out of. Whether that be how you act towards someone else or how someone acts towards you. Choose to be kind and choose to surround yourself with people who are kind to you. Do you understand?” 

You had nodded at his request and he smiled, leaning forward to blow a raspberry on your cheek until you giggled. 

“Papa! Stop it!,” you squealed. 

His smile had widened. The look on his face turned mischievous as he proposed, “Come on, let’s see if we can find any of mommy’s sweets before she gets home hm?” 

You remembered the excitement you had felt at that, racing after your father to raid the not-so-secret, secret hiding place where your mother hid Reese’s Pieces and Kit Kats from her family. The next few hours had been perfect, binging snacks and playing with your dad until the world quite literally ended later that evening. 

Even then, it was still okay for a while. Sure, you had been scared at times but your father always held his head high, which made everyone else around him feel like everything would eventually be okay. Despite the impossible odds and grueling circumstances, your father was still making his family laugh well into the first few months of the apocalypse. It was too bad that he had only lasted about half a year before getting bit. 

Unbeknownst to him, even as other memories of him had faded away, the advice he gave you that day remained clear and unaltered. Perhaps it was the gravity of the day, it being the final moments of civilization, but you didn’t think so. No, it was the lesson itself. Through every moment of your fucked up life, the people in it had been judged to that standard. 

Sometimes it was easy, with people like Josiah or Paul being clearly placed on one side of the spectrum, but other times it was harder. It had been hard for you to judge Joel at first, with his crankiness and inability to open up. Nevertheless after a few days with the man, you placed him easily on the opposite end as them. 

Joel might have been hard to get to know, but the wait was worth it. He was soft underneath it all and actually put in a real effort to make you happy. It was everything you could’ve wanted and you knew your father would have approved of the match, despite the age difference. However, somewhere along the line you had begun to wonder whether he would have approved of you. 

Sitting in the passenger seat of the shitty car, next to the man you hated most in this world, you couldn’t see yourself in any of those people. The alpha who had hit his mate did so out of a need for dominance but that wasn’t you. And the omega who had taken the abuse had done so out of duty but you didn’t feel like that was you either. Maybe it had been at one point, when Josiah and his crew had scared you into obedience, but not now. 

Even your father, the standard for what it meant to be kind, was not someone you saw yourself in anymore either. He had been too tender for a world like this one, having literally thrown himself in front of infected for a woman that he didn’t even know. Meanwhile, you had slaughtered the majority of a town to regain someone that had been taken from you. You tried to imagine a world where your father would do that but couldn’t. Acts of violence simply weren't in his wheelhouse. 

That meant that you were something else entirely. An elusive fourth category that you couldn’t quite grasp, despite your attempts at identifying it as the car turned off the road just before the I-80. It was not for dominance, or duty, or for the desire to be good that you had slashed through Paul’s men. None of those reasons held any value to you. 

The fierce protectiveness over the man you loved had propelled you into action back at the cabin. Yet it was an inherited rage that trickled down to you from generations of people who had been taken for granted that kept you going. How dare anyone take him. And how dare they assume that you would lay down and let it happen because of some bullshit myth about biological inferiority. 

Rumbling down the snow covered road, you held your breath, trying to calm the rage that still burned within as Paul carefully followed the tire tracks that led to the old camp. Returning to the place you had spent a good portion of your life in was strange. The homecoming fell flat, with nothing but ghosts to greet the two of you as the car neared the gate. 

“Why here?,” you wondered aloud. 

The question seemed to catch him off guard, you having been silent since the squabble that had taken place just an hour before. 

“Because it’s where this all began, angel.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, “Wouldn’t just shooting me be easier? Why take me to a place filled with infected? Kinda overkill if you ask me.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ve already cleared them out. Knew I’d get my sweet little wife back here at some point. Thought that a nice trip down memory lane might be what she needs to remember her place,” he said pointedly. 

You tried not to gag, staring at the bruise along his jaw before you turned back to the window with a huff. 

Tried as you might to fight Paul, he had tripped you up at the very last moment and managed to tie your hands together. Rather than kill you, as you had hoped he might, the man decided he wanted to go on what he called “an adventure”. It frustrated you. The thought of dying was way more preferable than having to take an impromptu road trip with Paul. 

As the trees receded, you watched as the skeleton of your old camp was revealed. The gate was wide open, beckoning the vehicle onto the empty streets. After passing through the first few homes, you tried not to cry as you passed Jake’s aunt's house. The tiny home where the two of you had swapped contraband books and chattered about teenage crushes was ruined. The majority of the building had been destroyed in the flames. 

“You weren’t there when the dumbasses brought out the molotovs huh? Fucking mess, half of them missed the horde and it ended up destroying most of the town,” Paul commented as he followed your gaze towards the wreckage. 

You looked away from the scenery as the car neared your old home. There was no part of you that wanted any more memories of that place. You had escaped. It didn’t matter that you were at the camp again, it would never have the same hold on you. And neither would Paul. For the remainder of the drive you kept silent, locked within your own mind as he neared the edge of camp. 

“Okay, we’re here,” Paul announced as he parked in front of the old chapel. 

One side of it had been blackened by the flames but besides that, the place where Josiah had preached his poison remained entirely untouched. 

Shame , you thought. If there was one place that deserved to burn, it was the chapel that had sponsored nothing but hatred for years. 

The steeple still held the cross that loomed over visitors, making you feel uneasy as the shadow of it slid across the side of the car. The shutters on all of the windows were shut, though a few of them rattled against the window panes with the breeze. With the snow shoveled off the steps, it looked just as it always had on the evenings when you were forced into prayer circles or grueling all night confessionals. 

Paul wrenched the door to the driver’s side open, pulling you from the chilling thoughts as he stomped around the front of the car. An involuntary yelp fell from your lips as he opened the passenger side with such force that it shook the car. Before you could think to resist, he yanked you from the seat. Fingers pressing into the blackened indents he had left days earlier, your already damaged wrist creaked under the pressure of his grasp. 

“Fucking watch it,” you hissed.  

Paul smirked but ignored your protests, tugging you alongside him as he climbed the stairs. His long strides made it impossible for you to catch up. Stumbling behind him, you fought against the zip ties to free your hands. The plastic restraints left reddened indents on your skin but barely budged despite your struggle.  

The smell of the dusty building made you sneeze and it echoed off the vaulted ceiling. Stone floors gave way to a huge wooden cross hung near the altar. An emaciated man looked down at you from it, wincing at the nails driven into his hands as he hung there. You had always found the display jarring. If people loved this guy so much, you never understood why they thought it was a good idea to depict his death in nearly every place of worship or even with the jewelry they wore. If Paul stabbed you to death today, you didn’t expect Joel to start wearing a blade around his neck tomorrow. 

You laughed at the morbid thought, drawing a confused look from Paul that you ignored. 

No, that would be weird. If anything, you hoped that when Paul killed you that Joel would simply take care of himself. That he would continue to eat, sleep, play his guitar, carve things, and above all, for him to not close himself off again. Maybe Joel would even go live with his brother in Jackson, rather than resigning himself to solitude again. It was a pipe dream and you knew it, but it didn’t stop you from manifesting it into existence. 

Paul stepped before you and swung the basement door open, nudging you towards the dimly lit steps until you haphazardly stumbled down them. The space was as you remembered it, with discarded boxes and books everywhere. You half expected to come across Cooper tucked away in his corner, twiddling his thumbs in the quiet room while the rest of camp busied themselves elsewhere. But Cooper was nowhere to be found, leaving you alone with his terrifying brother. 

The only new edition to the space was the candles that covered nearly every inch of the floor. Some were even placed upon the stacked books. Melted wax stained the paperbacks before it dripped down to the awful carpet below. Half of them were scented, leading to a cacophony of smells that sparked a dull ache in the base of your skull. The only consolation was that the stifling mix of fragrances almost covered Paul’s sickly sweet stench entirely.  

Stepping around a row of bookshelves, you noticed that two chairs and a table were placed in the middle of the room. Wine glasses were set out, accompanied by what looked to be one of the treasured bottles of whiskey that Josiah used to hide amongst the clutter. It seemed that you weren’t the only one who had figured out where he had stashed the liquor before the place fell. 

“I thought I was the only one who knew where he hid it,” you blurted out. 

Paul smiled at you. His eyes were flat despite the expression on his face and the wink he gave you made your stomach drop.  

“I thought a nice night was in order. This is going to be our first night together as man and wife after all,” he sighed dreamily.  

Scoffing at the implication as he led you towards the table, you glared at him while he tucked you into one of the seats. Paul leaned forward and you grimaced as he flicked open his pocket knife. He grabbed your hands, making you hold your breath until he slipped the blade against the zip tie and snapped the plastic. 

“Be good and maybe I’ll keep these off, got it?,” he said, pressing the knife to your throat for emphasis. 

The blade was cool against your skin and goosebumps formed around it. Despite the desire to grab at the hilt of it and drive it into his chest, you refrained. Swallowing your pride, you nodded. Paul pressed it harder for a moment, making you tense up before he finally set it down. Chuckling as he walked to the other side of the table, you watched as he took his seat. 

Silence filled the air as the two of you stared at each other. Paul’s gaze was sinister, while yours was pointed with rage. With you sat in front of him, he looked like a beast that had finally caught its prey. It made you even more annoyed. 

“Well this is… something,” you mumbled cheekily. 

Paul laughed, showing off his crooked teeth as he threw his head back. You recoiled at the sound, the last thing you wanted to do was give this man any bit of joy. 

“My, my, how you’ve changed angel,” he chuckled, “Knew you were a bit disobedient before; the preacher’s sweet stepdaughter who pressed the line when nobody was looking. It was cute, sexy even. But now, you’re downright insolent.” 

You cocked your head. Paul had no idea what kind of insolence you were capable of. 

“You’re goddamn right I am,” you agreed. 

The air was thick with tension. A darkness settled across Paul’s features and you sat back against your seat, waiting for the inevitable torment that he planned to inflict. His eyes raked over your form before they landed on your neck. The mark that adorned it was uncovered, standing proudly against your skin despite Paul’s attempts to sear it off with his gaze. 

“I always knew that your kind were desperate little things but I genuinely thought you were different. That was my mistake, thinking that you understood the rules. I let you prance around until I decide that you’re ready, then you were supposed to be mine for the taking.” 

The words lit a spark in your chest and heat radiated out into your limbs, making your fingers twitch with frustration as you listened to him speak. What Paul was telling you was sick. There was no prancing around the camp, and you certainly didn’t feel the need to apologize for not knowing the rules to some twisted game he had envisioned. You were a child when you arrived at the camp, not some prize for him to win once you reached a suitable age. 

Paul hummed, cocking his head at your silence, “Nothing to say? That’s alright, we’ve got all night for confessions.” 

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, “What do you want from me Paul?” 

He ignored the question and reached forward to uncork the bottle. Despite the strained silence, his hands were steady as he poured the amber liquid and pushed one of the glasses towards you. A bit of it sloshed over the side, staining the perfectly white tablecloth below. Paul huffed and covered the spot with a napkin. He dabbed at it for a moment before he nodded at you to take a sip. The casualness of his actions annoyed you to no end. 

“It doesn’t matter what you do to me. I hope you know that.” 

Paul grinned, “Doesn’t it?” 

“No. Joel is mine and I am his. You can hurt me. You can kill me. Shit, you can even do the same to him but it won’t matter. You. Lost. Nothing can change that,” you snapped at him. 

The words irked him, hardening the lines in his face as you leaned in for emphasis. You laughed and it filled the air, making him flinch despite his attempts to keep his face schooled. 

“Joel is the one who gets to have me. He gets to take care of me, touch me, fuck me, anything he wants and fuck, is he good at it. See, my mate doesn’t need to overcompensate for anything,” you sneered, flicking your eyes up and down Paul’s body as he fumed under the scrutiny.

Paul leaned forward, smelling of rotted candies and sweat as the air crackled with energy. The proximity made you nauseous but you refused to pull back first. 

As if his soul sensed your discomfort, Joel’s presence on the planet made itself known when the mark on your neck throbbed almost painfully. It was unlike any of the other times, when he had been unwittingly calling out for you from his imprisonment. This was sharper and unrelenting, with a deep ache sending jolts of agony all the way to your jaw as you tried to keep your cool. 

Joel was somewhere and he was scared. No, not scared. Joel Miller was fucking terrified. Instincts going wild from the unseen threat poised towards your mate, the muscles in your back tensed as your body readied itself for a fight. It was pointless. There was nothing you could do for him from here. That was all you could think of as Paul stood from his seat.

He grabbed his glass, lifting it in the air as his malicious scowl pierced through you. 

“A toast then, to Joel Miller! The man who turned my perfect, pure wife into a fucking stupid slut. May he rest easy,” Paul chuckled darkly. 

You shifted in your seat, hand cupping where Joel had staked his claim. The corners of your vision blurred as your heart pounded in your chest. Beads of sweat formed along your hairline, the droplets rolling down your face as he smiled down at you. 

“So you do feel each other? I’ve always wondered if that was a myth or not,” he mused, words half muffled as he leaned in to sip his drink.  

That got your attention. Dread hooked into your heart, pulling you back down into a darkness that you had only recently discovered in yourself. With the bond thrumming with Joel’s despair and your adversary leering at you from behind a whiskey glass, you let it take hold of you. It calmed the shivers that racked your frame, slowing your shallow breaths until you were calm enough to grab the glass Paul had poured for you. 

He watched as you downed it in one go and slammed it back down. It burned the entire way down but soothed the hunger pangs that you had been ignoring for days. You hummed at the taste of it, smacking your lips at the notes of caramel and spice. 

“That bothers you, doesn’t it?,” Paul teased, “Bet he’s dead before I even get done breaking you open on my knot. The old man looked pretty banged up when I saw him earlier. I think-” 

“Is this bourbon? I thought it was single malt but no, it’s too sweet to be that. What is it? Woodford Reserve? I bet it is, Josiah loved that shit,” you cut in, dampening the twisted smile on his face. 

Paul blinked, “Is it - What? Did you hear what I just said?” 

You nodded and reached forward, pouring yourself another glass as he sputtered before you. The second glass slid down easier and warmth flooded your face. Emboldened at his surprise, you poured another but left the glass on the table, letting it breathe as you leaned back and stared at the alpha. Paul was furious. A vein popped out of the side of his head as he clenched his fists together tight. 

“He’s going to fucking die, do you hear me?! That fucking prick is dead and you are going to do as I say!,” Paul roared as he launched his glass against the wall behind you. 

It smashed somewhere amongst the candles and papers but you gritted your teeth, remaining steady as warning bells went off in your head. Taking a subtle breath, you simply cocked your head at him as he fumed from across the table. 

“You know, you’re right Paul, I can feel him. Which means that I know that he’s still alive. So threats aren’t really going to cut it unfortunately,” you said. 

Nostrils flaring, Paul rounded the table. Stomping towards you angrily, you gulped as he pulled your chair sideways to face him. Looming over you, his eyes desperately tried to penetrate the barrier you had formed around yourself since the day Joel was taken. You didn’t blame Paul for trying, it used to be so easy to make you scared. 

You sucked in a breath as his thumb dragged along your lower lip, pressing down against the pillowy skin before he let his hand drop. The grotesque mixture of sweat, blood, and dirt caked his fingers, leaving behind a smear of filth that made you gag. 

“What are you thinking, angel? That you can beat me and then go get him all by yourself?,” Paul chuckled and shook his head, “Little superhero are we? Be reasonable.” 

Instead of answering his taunt, you plucked your drink from the table. Taking a long draw from the glass, you sucked back half of it before you looked back at Paul. Splotches of red crept up along his neck, discoloring the already bruised skin with rage. It made you smile. 

“Is this fucking funny to you?,” Paul hissed. 

You nodded, grinning wider at the way his face scrunched up even further. Nevertheless, the amusement was short lived as one of Paul’s hands reached down to his belt and worked it open menacingly. His gaze was fixed on you when your eyes snapped to his face. There was nothing behind his eyes as he ripped the leather from his belt loops and it was terrifying. With his belt flung somewhere behind him, Paul twiddled with the top button to his jeans. 

“Think it’s time for a lesson, wife.” 

It was now or never. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, husband,” you agreed. 

Before Paul had a moment to register your words, the half emptied drink in your hand was slammed against his head. He cried out in pain as the glass tore open the skin of his forehead. The amber liquid dripped down his face, burning his eyes despite his discoordinated attempts to wipe them clean. 

With Paul occupied, you launched off the chair. The force of your body knocked him over an errant box and sent the both of you tumbling to the floor. The impact of the fall was lessened by Paul’s body but your head knocked against his harshly. The both of you grunted at the collision but it was him that managed to right himself first. 

He flipped you over, slamming you back against the cold floor as his fingers crept up your torso and squeezed your trachea. You tried desperately to pry his hands off. A cough wiggled up from your burning chest but it was halted by the brutal grip. Panic set in as his fingers expertly pushed into the blood vessels, cutting off the supply of oxygen to your brain. Dizzied and weak from his hold, it began to feel like you were fighting against air. 

“Aw, my sweet angel, can’t believe it’s to come to this,” Paul squeezed harder, “Thought it could be like it was before but no, you need some harsher lessons for this to work.” 

Fingernails scrabbling against his arms, neck, and face, you fought as hard as you could. Tears blurred your vision, making it impossible for you to track his movements as he moved one of his hands down to fight with the zipper of his jeans. Paul bared nearly the entirety of his weight against your neck as he worked himself out of his pants until it felt like something inside of it might burst. Crushed beneath him, you could barely react at the feeling of his hardness poking your thigh. 

“Been waiting years for this, since the first day I met you. Such a sweet little fucking tease, can’t wait to fuck any trace of him out of you,” Paul rambled.  

He spoke only to himself. You weren’t even in the room. Floating somewhere between life and death, your head lolled to the side as he released himself from the confines of his boxers. This was it. There was nothing you could do. You blinked deeply, slowly letting the dark edges bleed into your vision. It would be easier this way. Unconscious or dead, at least you wouldn’t have to feel what Paul was about to do. 

A palm cracked down against your cheek and your face snapped in the opposite direction. You coughed as the pressure on your neck ceased. The air was acrid as you sputtered and wheezed beneath Paul. The thickness of the scent coated the back of your throat and tickled your lungs. Despite the grogginess, you worked against the fog to pinpoint the smell but it was nearly impossible as another round of smacks were rained down against your face. 

“Oh no angel, you don’t get to check out for this. I want you to remember everything,” he laughed. 

While the breaths were difficult, with your throat swelling and aching from the abuse, you greedily sucked in the putrid air. There was something off about it but soon your vision cleared and you managed to get your bearings. It only took five seconds after that for your eyes to land on the source of the smell. 

Flames grew from one side of the room, spreading out from where Paul had thrown his glass against the wall. The liquor had acted as an enabler for the flame to tear through the disorganized mess of candles, paper and cardboard. The fire spread at an alarming rate, eating up anything in its path as you slapped Paul’s chest with a renewed sense of vigor. 

“F-fire,” you wheezed, barely intelligible. 

With his length bobbing menacingly between his legs as he worked to pry open your jeans, Paul only hummed at your attempts to warn him. 

“Hm? What’s that? Let me guess, you were trying to say fuck you. Is that it?,” he jeered. 

Shaking your head wildly, you slapped at his shoulders harder as smoke began to force water from your eyes. With the fire slowly taking up chunks of the basement, it seemed the alpha was only focused on one thing. 

The broken, “N-no,”you called out was lost in another round of hacking as Paul ripped the pants clean off of your legs. 

You silently thanked every force in the universe that you had not forgotten underwear. The thought of him seeing a part of you that you had only ever felt comfortable showing one specific person was too much. He reached for the frilly fabric, dodging your legs as you kicked at him.  

“F-fucking idiot,” you gritted out. 

That halted his assault. Reaching down, Paul pinched your face in one of his hands and you winced at the fresh bruises that formed from the grip. 

“What was that slut? Any last quips before I take back what’s mine?” 

You cleared your throat, fighting against the smoke that threatened to clog your lungs to spit out a raggedy gasp of, “Fire.” 

With his hard cock in his hand as he surveyed the room, you watched as the realization dawned on him. Paul’s mouth opened and closed at the sight. The majority of the room was covered with flames. You could tell that he was awestruck at his own blindness and it angered you. This moment of weakness was due to his own sick need to dominate you, and for what? 

Using all the strength you had left to flip him over, you were sobered at the realization that this rage was not new. It had not been born out of your mate being taken from you. For years it had simmered under the surface until it finally boiled over following Joel’s abduction. The anger you felt was more than anger, it was a purely feminine wrath that had been building since you were old enough to understand the incident at the ice cream truck 20 years earlier. 

With your mouth filled with blood and your lungs burning, you snatched the knife from Paul’s belt and slammed it into his shoulder. He screamed in pain and you twisted it around before yanking it out. Obscenities poured from his mouth as you slashed at his cheeks but you ignored them. Blood splattered against your face, covering you in red as you pushed the blade into the other shoulder. Paul choked on his breaths as the blade sunk deeper, his hands trying to slap you away as you ruthlessly sawed it back and forth before pulling it from him. 

This wasn’t just about you or even Paul. It was about the omega who had been slapped that day years before. It was about your mother, the law firm partner who ruled the courts and came home to a loving husband who was morphed into an obedient housewife. It was about Jake and Cooper who, despite their apparent relatively decent bond, had been forced into their roles nonetheless. It was about the generations of people - alpha, beta, or omega - who had been made to obey someone else’s word, regardless of how they felt about it.  

You screamed out, letting years of bottled up rage explode in Paul’s face as the room around you began to collapse. He coughed, eyes unfocused and rolling in their sockets as he twitched at the blood loss. The wounds on his body spurted out short jolts of blood, turning the carpet below him crimson. 

“Please,” he begged pitifully. 

Disgust was all you felt at the state of him as you dropped the knife. It clattered to the floor near his head but he didn’t reach to grab it. You weren’t entirely sure that he was able to anyways. Standing from the floor, you sucked your teeth at him. Paul’s head was split open from the glass, cheeks slashed and bubbling with red as his cock laid pitifully against the outside of his jeans. The wounds on his neck and shoulder gaped and pulsed rivulets of blood that added to the stains on the floor. His desperate attempts to staunch the flow were mediocre at best, he was much too weak to cover the holes in his skin effectively. 

You looked down at him with tired eyes as the room burned around the both of you. The ice in Paul’s gaze melted, making him look like nothing more than a scared little boy as you glowered at him. 

“I don’t know what happened to you that made you this way, but fuck you. You will die here and I am going to keep living. Do you understand me? I am fucking done with all of this shit,” you said coolly. 

A loud crack broke through the moment and you looked up, watching as the ceiling began to concave with the flames licking at the foundation of the building. You needed to get out of here, lest you burn to death in the god forsaken chapel alongside Paul. Sparing him one last look, you shook your head at the pleading look in his eyes. 

“You. Lose. Goodbye Paul.” 

With the last word uttered, you scurried off towards the stairs. The flames roared at you from all angles, closing in as you ran as fast as your damaged body would allow. Just as you reached the bottom step, the building itself started to shift. You froze as the structure groaned. 

“Oh shit,” you swore. 

Flying up the steps, you took them two at a time until you launched yourself through the basement door. The air on the ground level was worse, with the entirety of the sanctuary cloaked in thick smoke that irritated your throat. You gagged, dropping down to your knees as you choked on the poison. Retching against the stones, sweat and tears tracked through the soot that covered your face as all of the whiskey in your stomach was purged. 

You groaned at the way your abdominal muscles ached, trying to force out vomit that didn’t exist. With nothing left to purge and no end to the endless smoke inhalation, exhaustion wormed its way into your body. The comfort of the end beckoned you, luring you in with its promise of rest but you ignored it. Crawling on all fours to get to the door as you hacked up black, you were shocked at your own will to live. 

Despite the lack of evidence, you knew you needed to get outside. There was no reasoning behind this incessant need to get to freedom. It would be easier to give up. Less painful for sure, given the state of your body. The reason for your determination was unfathomable but it pushed you the last few inches.

Fresh air shocked your system, launching you into a fit of forceful coughs that knocked you off balance. You cursed Paul as every ice covered bit of concrete jammed into your ribs on the way down. However, the embrace of the snow was welcoming as you landed in a heap at the bottom. The cold bled into your legs, soothing the burns that you didn’t even realize that you had acquired. 

A voice called to you from far away. It was deep and honeyed with a familiar southern twang. The voice beckoned you to stay with him. You smiled at his request, burrowing yourself deeper into the darkness. Joel was calling to you from the other side, you were sure of it. He sounded so desperate, sobbing as he screamed your name and pleaded. It would’ve made you cry too, had you not already begun to heed his request. 

It was funny. Before today, you had never believed in an afterlife. It was too big of a question and you refused to let it rule your life, preferring to find out when the time came like everyone else. But as Joel Miller begged desperately for you to come back to him, you comforted yourself with the belief that this was your afterlife. You would be with him forever. It didn’t matter that it was through death that the two of you would see eachother again. You would follow Joel anywhere. 

Sinking further into the black, you sighed and let yourself be carried off into the wind. 

 - Joel - 

Joel had screamed. 

The volume of it alone forced the birds from their nests in the surrounding trees. It was a desperate and strangled cry, something that he didn’t even know he was capable of until it left his mouth. 

Joel had raced down the poorly shoveled road, tearing through town after he spied the smoke blackening the air from the gate. It was only when he reached the burning chapel that he realized just how bad it was. The building looked to be on the verge of collapse, swaying as the fire tore through every bit of material holding it in place. 

Ripping himself from the car, Joel sprinted towards the door. Before he could reach the steps, he was met with the sight of you stumbling from the building in a fit of painful sounding coughs. The sight of you had comforted him for a moment, seeing you alive despite the odds stacked against you. 

Joel rushed forward as you fell back against the snow, skidding to a stop and reaching down to gather you in his arms. Your breathing was strained and he begged you to follow his breaths. A sigh was all you responded with. Joel felt it as your body stilled against him and his soul broke open. A hoarse cry reverberated in the open air, heard but nobody except himself. 

He felt like a wild animal as he tore through his mind for any medical miracles he could think of. Suddenly, it dawned on him. The act would probably not work, he knew that, but he had to try. With hot tears streaming down his face, Joel tore your sweatshirt down the middle with his bare hands. 

He started the compressions, choking on anguish as forced life back into your body. Heart pounding in his chest, Joel called for you endlessly.

“Come on baby, come back to me. It’s okay, we’ll b-be okay. Please, please, please…”

Joel felt his hands crack through your ribs and he could’ve sworn his chest ached alongside you. It hurt him to do this, to break open your ribcage in order to get to your stilled heart, but he kept going.  He tilted your head back, pinching the soft part of your nose as he blew two lungfuls of air into your mouth. 

For some reason, he had hoped that the oxygen would miraculously rouse you and he cried out when your body didn’t respond. Restarting the compressions again, more panic seared through his every nerve ending. The rest of the world faded away and it was only your lifeless body, him, and flashes of the other people in his life that he failed to save. 

You couldn’t die. Not like this, not now. It felt like the world had ended again, only this time it felt even worse. It was like one of his limbs had been chopped off. The mark on his neck burned as he pushed into your chest and Joel’s heart sputtered at the feeling. The presence you had on this earth was stored somewhere in his instincts, making him feel you everyday despite the distance but now, he felt it no longer. 

“Please darling, please, please, please! I can’t do this again, I need you. D-don’t go, you said you wouldn’t go…,” Joel sobbed. 

No response. 

Another round of breaths and he was back to cracking your ribs under his hands. He felt like he was going to puke. It was all too much. Joel needed you to live but the longer you remained still, the further away that possibility seemed to be. What was there left for him to do? Even the most avidly trained medical staff before the outbreak would have been hard pressed to bring you back. 

The realization that this was it, this was the end for you,  slowed his compressions. Tears welled up in his eyes at the sight of your lifeless body as he stopped altogether. How could this happen to him… again? What was the point of it all, if this was how it was going to end? Rage bubbled up from deep within his heart and he exploded. 

“FUCK!,” Joel roared, slamming his fist down hard against something solid yet squishy. 

Joel had aimed for the ground but missed, instead slamming his fist against your chest. He reeled back in shock, feeling absolutely disgusted with himself for disrespecting your body like that. Even in death, the thought of ever hurting you was too much to bear and he suddenly wanted to walk backwards into the burning building. However, the guilt was soon replaced with shock as you twitched. 

Eyes rolling in their sockets, Joel watched as began to fight for air as you gagged helplessly on your back. He swore, flipping you so that you faced him on your side. With him petting your knotted hair and whispering encouragement, you puked up a pitiful amount of blackened bile. 

Joel waited until you were done before he peeked into your mouth to ensure that there was nothing left to choke on. Despite the clear airway, uneasiness seeped into his chest as your body remained still. Joel moved his head down to press his ear to your chest, leaning in close to listen. After a second of readjustment, having to switch to his good ear to listen properly, he sighed as he heard the steady thump of your heart. 

A sob of relief tore from his lips. He pressed his face into your chest, kissing the spot where he heard your pulse in thanks. Tears dripped from Joel’s face, landing on your face, neck, and chest as he hovered over you. As life rattled through your body once more, he tried his best not to shatter under the weight of your near death experience. He allowed himself another moment of anguish before he swallowed it down. Gathering you up in his arms, Joel hugged you to his chest and lifted you from the ground. 

He was still crying as he walked towards the car, legs trembling as he slid into the backseat with you in his arms. For a moment Joel thought about driving off, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get far. Not with the way his hands shook, his heart pounding in his chest as he held you tighter. That was close, way too close. Your lifeless body, the way your ribs cracked from the pressure of his hands, it was all too much for him. 

The second that the door was shut behind him, Joel ripped his coat off and covered you in the bulky material as best as he could. The bruises, cuts, and burns that covered your body were a lot to take in. You had stumbled from the burning chapel in nothing but a sweatshirt and underwear. Finger shaped bruises covered your body, making a pit form in his stomach. Multiple alphas had tried to hurt you in the days since he had seen you last. He wanted to kill them all but, it seemed you had already beaten him to it. 

Looking at the marks on your thighs, dread descended over him. Joel felt absolutely helpless. He had no idea where he was, where any medical supplies were, what had happened in the chapel, or when you’d wake. Powerless to the situation, Joel rambled incoherent apologies and desperate pleas as he brushed soot from your body. 

“Oh darling, I’m so sorry. I - fuck - I should’ve been better. Should’ve protected you, been there for you. Oh my god, fuck, this is my fault. I love you. Please, please, please,” he cried. 

He didn’t even know what he was asking you for. Was it forgiveness? Joel kicked himself for letting this happen. The thought of it made him want to rip off his own skin and maybe he would’ve, had he not heard the softest whisper of his name. 

Joel snapped his gaze back up to your face and gasped. Your eyes were red rimmed and glossy, but they were open. It was one of the most beautiful things that he had ever seen. 

“Oh baby,” he cried out as he pulled you up in his lap. 

You went willingly, completely pliant as he arranged you in his lap. Joel heard you hiss as he pressed you into a tight hug and he pulled back quickly. A pinched brow from the sting of his embrace formed a lump in his throat. Settling on holding your face in his hands, Joel watched as you slowly blinked your eyes open again. 

“Ow,” you croaked. 

The noise that came from his mouth was half a laugh and half a sob of relief but he smiled through it. His throat was thick as he pushed errant hairs away, kissing every inch of your face as he fought against the emotions that overwhelmed him. There were no words for what he felt in that moment and even if there were, you were in no shape to hear them. 

The corners of your mouth quirked up when Joel finally landed a kiss on your lips and he did it again. Despite the blood and dirt that covered every inch of the both of you, the sight of your soft smile soothed every ache in his body. He knew that his headache was still there. The bruise on the back of his head was tender to the touch but at that moment, he didn’t feel it one bit. 

Your eyes were open. 

You were alive. 

Nothing else mattered. 

“M’tired,” you murmured and coughed, wincing at the effort before your eyelids drooped again. 

Joel tightened his jaw as your face burrowed itself in his neck, huffing at him until you relaxed. He could tell that you were in a great deal of pain, his instincts sensing every bit of tension in your body. He needed to fix this, to care for you. 

The problem was that Joel had no idea where he was, or where to get medical supplies in the half destroyed ghost town. Even if he could focus his mind enough to drive to the next town, there was no telling what he would find there. 

He thought about going back to where he had left the group but he quickly discarded the idea. Your friends and family were nearly an hour away, IF they were still there, and likely didn’t have much more medical experience than him. 

The cabin was too far and didn’t have half the shit you would need. And Jackson, with the time it would take for Joel to drive his injured mate there, was out of the question. That left only one option for him. 

“Baby, baby wake up,” he called. 

Joel spoke with the softest urgency he could muster, jostling you gently until you roused. Another groan accompanied the glare you flashed at him. In a different situation, he might’ve laughed at it. The exasperation on your face was painfully obvious. He didn't need to ask to know what you thought about him waking you. Are you fucking serious , was written all over your face. 

“I know, I know honey, m’real sorry. I’ll let you sleep but first, you need to tell me where the camp kept their medical stuff. Pills, bandages, water, fuck - anything,” Joel urged.

You hummed, sighing as you scrunched your face up in thought. He knew it was a lot. Asking you questions about a camp you hadn’t lived in for sometime was ridiculous. Especially after he had literally just brought you back from the dead, but he didn’t have the time to tear through half of the homes to find what he needed. There was so much blood covering you and Joel was nervous to find out how much of it was yours. If it was all you, he needed to find the wound and stitch it up fast. 

“Home, probably,” you guessed, “He kept it all at our house so nobody could get into it. If the stuff hasn’t been snatched up by raiders, it’d be there.” 

Joel nodded desperately, “And where’s that baby?”

You whined at his incessant line of questioning and he hushed you, smoothing his thumbs over your cheekbones until you settled. 

 “Shhh, I know you want to sleep but you need to tell me darling. Where’s home? What does it look like?” 

“Green house with yellow shutters. Fucking awful colors, worse than our kitchen,” you murmured. 

The comparison made him huff a laugh as you slumped against him again. As your body stilled once more, Joel couldn’t help himself. Despite the fact that you had just spoken to him, he subtly brushed two fingers up your spine until they landed on your neck. Careful not to aggravate the bruising, Joel pressed his fingers into the side of your neck so that he could feel the steady beats there. She’s just asleep , he told himself over and over again as he readied himself to leave. 

A green house with yellow shutters, he could work with that. Joel had been in too much of a rush to save you when he sped through town, but he was confident that he could find the ugly house. He needed to, so he would. The fear of what might happen if he didn’t spurred him into action. 

As carefully as he could, Joel slid out of the backseat with you still in his grasp. He could have left you laid out in the back. It probably would have been less cramped in the driver’s seat, but he refused to let you go. With what had just happened, he wasn’t sure he would be able to ever let you go again. As he slid behind the wheel, Joel decided that he was perfectly okay with carrying you around in his arms until the day he died.  

After spending an extra few seconds situating you so that you were comfortably cradled in his arms, he pulled out and drove through the quiet streets. Keeping one hand on your chest to feel the rise and fall of it, he kept his ears focused on your soft breaths. The sound of your breathing was the only thing keeping him sane. 

Joel wanted to tear someone’s face off. He wanted to rain hellfire down on any surviving alpha he could find but that wasn’t what you needed. You needed caring Joel, not the Joel that had single handedly destroyed the fireflies. He swallowed all of the things that threatened to cloud his judgment; the desire to pull away, the fury he had for Paul and the other alphas, the guilt he felt for your injured state, all of it was inconsequential.  

He pushed his own feelings away as he swerved around the corner, skidding a few inches before he managed to right the wheel. Letting out a cuss as he pumped the brakes, he held you close as the car drifted toward the poorly cleared driveway to your former home. 

You were right, the paint was awful. It was chipped in many places, yet still somehow managed to be much too bright against the snow covered landscape. Aside from the paint, the roof itself was rotted in multiple places. There was simply no way that it sufficed during the rainier months and he grimaced at the black mold he knew likely lined the inside of the walls. 

The front door flapped in the wind, making him uneasy as he gently tried to unwrap the limbs that were welded around him. He didn’t want to leave you here, but the potential dangers that could lurk inside left him with no choice. There was no way he was putting you in the line of fire again. 

Joel sighed and doubled down on his efforts but it was no use, you were like an octopus. Everytime he managed to pry off one limb, another wrapped around him and pulled him even closer. You kept your eyes closed but he knew that you were awake. With no other option, Joel pulled your head from its place in the crook of his neck. The whine you let out was pained, only deepening the guilt he felt for leaving as he hushed your cries. 

“I need to go check inside before I bring you in, baby. I’ll be right back, I swear,” he cooed. 

He cupped your cheeks, stroking them until the line between your eyebrows disappeared. 

“No,” you answered with a scratchy voice. 

“But I need t-”

A soft pinch was all you gave him in response. With all the strength in your body depleted, it was nothing more than a tug on his side but he got the hint nonetheless. Joel sighed louder at your stubbornness but relented. Although your safety was his top priority, the thought of leaving you for a second was just as painful for him. 

He bit his tongue as he lifted you from the car and trudged towards the entrance. Despite his efforts to shield your body from the wintry breeze with his jacket, goosebumps climbed up your legs and you shivered violently. Hastening his pace, Joel reached the front door and rushed inside. Frenzied from the prospect of cold seeping into your body, he knocked the door closed with his hip. The bang echoed throughout the house and he froze. 

Joel held you closer as he held his breath, straining to hear for any indication of life. He clenched his jaw painfully tight, trying to calm himself as he imagined a horde infected sprinting from a hiding place somewhere within the home. When nothing came, he could have collapsed with the relief he felt. 

With the threat gone, Joel worked quickly. Methodically sweeping through the quaint home, he raided the bathroom and storage closets for any supplies he could use. After finding the stash of supplies in the closet nearest to the master bedroom, Joel moved towards the door before he paused. 

The scents of its original occupants were mostly gone, dimmed with the time that had passed, but notes of your mother and stepfather’s unhappy union remained. He shook his head, turning on his heel to find a more comforting place for you to rest. After pulling open an office and yet another room filled with camp supplies, he finally stumbled upon your old room. 

Even if the walls hadn’t been soaked in the delicious aroma that was solely you, he could have guessed it was yours based on the decor alone. The walls were painted a bland beige but Joel noticed that you had gotten around this by covering them with pictures cut from old magazines, dried flowers, and colorful thread murals. Aside from that, there was a pile of clothes still unfolded on an armchair and pages of notes covering nearly every open surface. 

As Joel carried you towards the unmade twin bed, he prepared himself for another round against his octopus of a mate but you relaxed against the sheets. Perhaps it was the exhaustion that finally eased your half conscious mind or perhaps it was the familiarity of your old home but either way, he could finally untangle himself. Soft as ever, he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and pulled the sheets up to your chin before he tiptoed out of the room. 

Joel backtracked towards the medical supplies and tore through the boxes for everything he would need. He was impressed at the stash, yet slightly uncomfortable at the knowledge that these supplies had likely been kept from those that needed it by religious zealots. The upside was that he didn’t have to go far to find exactly what he was looking for. 

Armed with the supplies, he hurried back to your room. You were laid in the same position he had left you, yet he didn’t miss the way your body sunk deeper into the mattress at his return. Joel knelt by the bed, murmuring sweet words as he pulled the blanket back. 

The coat was open, revealing your beaten body to his eyes completely. Carefully, he peeled the sweater from your abdomen and it was hard for him not to scream at the bruises that stuck out against your ribs. Despite the damage to your ribs, he was relieved to find there was no broken skin anywhere. 

The fingerprints embedded into your thighs and throat threatened to break him but were also not in need of stitching. Given the dark bruising around your eyes and the swelling along the bridge of your nose, there was no doubt in Joel’s mind that your nose had been broken. He ghosted a finger along the swollen bump, pulling it back when your face twitched at the soft pressure. 

Joel shook his head and grabbed a cloth. After soaking the white fabric with the water, he carefully wiped the blood and grime from your body. The more that was revealed, the worst he felt. The darkened patches of bruised skin made his chest burn. You twitched when he dabbed carefully at your neck and he eased up, staying as gentle as possible while the filth was cleared from the top half of your body. 

Steeling himself, Joel moved down to your legs. He sucked in a deep breath as he moved upwards, stomach clenched as he wiped the soot off of your thighs. Despite the bruising along your hips and thighs, he was relieved to find that the damage did not reach your most vulnerable areas. The relief was bittersweet, as it was clear that although they were unsuccessful, someone had clearly tried to harm you in that way. 

Fucking Paul. 

Joel pushed the disgusting man from his thoughts. He needed to focus on you. After delicately pulling the coat from your body, he was surprised to find a bone glaring at him from your wrist. Given the reddened skin, Joel knew it had been dislocated for days. The skin around the bone was taut and his stomach roiled at the pain it had undoubtedly caused you. How the hell were you doing anything with an injury like this? 

Sighing, Joel scratched at his beard as he tried to make a game plan. He knew that the joint needed to be put back in place as soon as possible, lest the entire wrist remain damaged for the rest of your life. However, the pain that the process would involve tore at his heart strings. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to cause you any more pain. But, there was no other option. 

With shaking hands, Joel dug through the pile of goods and pulled out the morphine. He stared at the syringe for a moment, debating again before he ripped open the package and stuck the needle into the vial. The needle sucked up the clear liquid, filling the barrel slowly but surely until a small squirt of it spurted from the tip. Joel tested the plunger and he sighed when it worked. He knew that he couldn’t hold it off any longer.

“This is gonna help honey, just relax,” Joel mumbled, mostly to himself as you were fast asleep. 

You gave no sign of discomfort as the needle slid into muscle. The plunger was pressed down, administering what Joel hoped would numb the process. He waited a few minutes, letting it fully take hold of your nervous system as he continued to remove bits of debris and grime from your limbs. He knew you were ready when your head lolled to the side, with all of the aches in your body soothed by the morphine. 

With the drug clouding your senses, Joel grasped your wrist with both hands. He breathed in deeply, calming his own nerves before he expertly snapped the joint back into place. A sick crack tensed his jaw as your wrist regained its shape and he waited patiently for your response. Aside from a slight shiver, you remained oblivious. 

“That’s it baby, so brave,” Joel whispered as he wrapped the area in a makeshift splint. 

Leaning forward to kiss your face, he murmured sweet words as he pulled the sheets up around you. He stayed in his place at your bedside, kneeled against the wooden floor as you slept peacefully beside him. 

Suddenly, exhaustion pulled at Joel and he laid his head next to yours on the pillow. From this close, he felt every puff of air that left your mouth. Your even breathing was like the ocean, slowly pulling him into a meditative state. There was no possibility of him sleeping, not with a deep seated panic still lurking somewhere in his brain, but he let the obvious signs of life lull him into a false sense of security. You were right in front of him. 

After days of being without you, he had started to think that the morning he was taken would be his last time ever seeing you. With you laid in front of him alive, there was no way Joel was taking his eyes off of you for a second. 

Instead, Joel slid one of his hands into yours and focused on counting your eyelashes as you drifted in a sea of opium. He knew that there were so many things to do. There were antibiotics to be given. There was food likely stashed somewhere in this house that he needed to find for you. There were plans to be made regarding where the two of you would go. All of that needed to be addressed as soon as possible, yet Joel couldn’t bring himself to stand. 

As the day turned to night, moonlight blanketing the room and dulling the hues of purple along your face, Joel remained at your bedside. His eyes were still fixed on you well into the early hours of the morning, continuing to trace over every mark until he was satisfied that you weren’t going to stop breathing. 

- You -

Dreams bled into one another as you slumbered. They were warm, like the smell that carried you through each encounter along the way. The scent was familiar and you chased after it in your disjointed mind but it was always just out of reach. Plus, the scenery kept switching too fast. 

First, you were lying against the soft ground near the lake at home. It was summertime and when you looked over, you noticed Miriam. It took you a moment to hear what she was saying but you realized that she was trying to teach you the melody of some forgotten song. You wanted to listen, it was nearly impossible to pay attention to her with the spiciness of Joel wafting through the air. His scent was everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found. 

“Hey - Did you hear what I said or are we daydreaming today?,” Miriam jested. 

Your head whipped towards her, “Uh yeah, no, for sure, I just… Do you - Do you smell that? Is that - Is Joel here?” 

Miriam laughed but it was off. 

“No, he’s not. Joel won’t be here for some time, surprisingly,” she chuckled. 

Confusion struck you and you moved to get up, only for your wrist to pang as you tried to push up off of the ground. The day shifted, a soft breeze making you shiver as you tried to understand what was happening. When you looked back, Miriam was still smiling and before you could ask her, she was gone. 

The wine that was poured into your mouth was bitter and you choked as it slid down your throat. The communion had always tasted tart but this was way off. It was like the sacred drink had been replaced with a mix of medicine. The bitter sweetness glued your tongue to the roof of your mouth. 

As the cup was ripped away, you were met with the scathing glare of your former stepfather. You wiped the wine from the corners of your mouth and Josiah rolled his eyes. He looked just as he had the last time you saw him, with half of his face hanging off from the clicker that killed him. Blood oozed from the slashes in his face, dripping directly into the glass in his hands and you gagged. 

“What did I tell you? If you would have stayed with the man I chose, maybe none of this would have happened,” Josiah sighed. 

You blinked at his words, unsure of what to say.

“Paul was a fine young man but no, no you have to go and cause all of that trouble. And for what? For love? HA!”

Josiah cackled and you watched as it creased every inch of his face. A fear struck you. If Joel was here but you couldn’t see him, perhaps your stepfather had done something. You wanted to tackle him but it felt like you were chained. As you struggled against an invisible hold, Josiah lifted the cup back up to your lips. 

“Where the fuck is he?,” you hissed into the glass. 

The dangerous tone you used only made Josiah laugh. He shook his head and placed the wine glass down before he turned towards the rest of the congregation. Looking back, a sea of semi-familiar people lined the benches but their faces were blurred. If you squinted, you could guess who some of the former camp members were but most of them remained nameless. 

Without giving you another look, Josiah began his sermon. As he preached to them, his words got more warped until you felt the ground shift beneath you. The sanctuary shook and you desperately tried to get anyone’s attention but your voice was gone. Bracing yourself for the worst, you squeezed your eyes shut as the world collapsed in on itself. 

Instead of the death you had expected, when your eyes opened once more you were sitting in between your parents on the porch swing back home. The two of them had their bodies pressed into you and a children’s book was placed in your lap. You couldn’t see either of their faces as they read aloud from the page but you could hear them. They were both giving awful renditions of the characters, using silly voices until they broke into peals of laughter. 

It was only when the breeze had brushed against your face that you smelled him again. Sandalwood and bergamot tickled your nostrils, pulling you from the memory. The scent shifted your dream and suddenly, you were a fully grown woman squashed between two other adults. 

“Mom, Papa, did you see him? Is Joel here? Where is he?,” you questioned, voice desperate as the panic rose up from your chest. 

Your mother’s face was blurred when you looked at her, just as the congregants had been. The sight of her warped features was just as terrifying as seeing her in person and you jumped back in your seat, only to be met with the solid expanse of your father. Scared at what you might find, you refused to look at him at first but fingers soon grasped your face and whipped your head around. Facing him finally, you were relieved to find that his face remained unscathed. In fact, he grinned easily at you. 

“So grown up now bubs, I hardly recognized you,” he chuckled. 

Moisture gathered along your lash line, threatening to spill over as you smiled back. A silent moment passed as you both examined one another. It had been so long since you had seen him in a dream, years probably, yet somehow you remembered every detail. 

The wind kicked up again and you looked away, scanning the neighborhood for any sign of the cranky man you loved so much. Bits of the street were clear, like the sidewalk you used to play hopscotch on and the doghouse that held the sweet pitbull next door, but the majority of it had been blurred with time. 

You wanted to get up and look for the source of the smell in the house but you had the feeling like moving wasn’t an option. It made you uneasy, to be so close to Joel without the ability to actually see him. 

As if sensing the growing fear, your father grabbed your face. He pressed his palms into your cheeks and breathed in deeply, only letting go once you did the same. You smiled at the gesture, not realizing you even remembered him doing it until you released the breath. It was just like he used to do when he was alive. 

He sighed, “My beautiful girl, it’s been so nice to see you. But he’s waiting for you, bubs. It’s time to wake up now.” 

“What?,” you asked in confusion. 

He leaned forward, brushing his lips over your forehead before he pulled back again. Your father’s eyes twinkled with a familiar mirth as he grinned at you. 

“Alright, now get out of here. I don’t want to see you again for at least another fifty years, do you understand me?,” he jokingly commanded. 

Despite your hesitation, you nodded at his request. Your father smiled widely and pressed his forehead against yours as the world shifted again. Your vision was blurred once more, making you feel slightly nauseous as you tried to hold to the man in front of you. He said something but it was muffled as you were ripped from his embrace. 

-

Opening your eyes was harder than you thought it would be. It felt like the lids had been weighed down with bricks. Nevertheless, you could hear everything around you. There was snow persistently pelting against the window and howling wind made the structure groan before it settled again. However, it was the sound of someone speaking softly in the quiet of the space that lifted the fog from your mind. 

“… Tommy was so mad. His hair was always HIS THING back in the day. Fuck, it still is. Took him ‘bout a week to figure out that it was me that put Nair in his shampoo bottle.” 

The laugh he ended the story with was forced, making your heart pang as you slowly regained feeling in your limbs. The heat of his body was close but he wasn’t holding you like he normally would. It was annoying but you were too weak to voice any complaint. 

As more and more of your senses came back, so did the pain. Joel’s hand coasted over your back, as if he sensed the deep ache that had settled there. Despite the stiffness there, you were forced to hold in a sob at the feeling of his rough hand on your body. It had only been a few days, but it felt like a lifetime. You hoped desperately that it wasn’t a dream. 

No, you thought, it couldn’t be. Not when your throat was on fire. You tried to swallow but the muscles in your airway were tight. To make matters worse, the act of trying to suck in deep breaths not only aggravated your trachea but also the battered skin stretched across your ribcage. Each breath in and out was torture. 

At least with the swollen airway and crushed ribs, you could barely feel the ball of fire that encapsulated your wrist. The fact that it laid still against the sheets made no difference, pain still skittered up your arm and wrapped around your right shoulder. As the agony wrenched you from sleep, you focused on the sound of your mate’s syrupy drawl. 

“... I can’t think of what else to tell ya honey, m’real sorry. I don’t even know if me talking is doing anything but I just…”

Joel took a deep breath, his hand leaving your body to push his fingers through his undoubtedly unruly curls. The two of you were so attuned to one another that there was no need to open your eyes to know what he was doing. If you could’ve, you would have smiled at his exasperation. Contrary to Joel’s own worries about you not being able to handle his moods, the grumpiness was one of the things that made you love him in the first place. 

He sniffed and your heart dropped. 

“I don’t know if I was - fuck - if I was too late, just… Please darling. Please just open your eyes. I’m…,” Joel grunted, pausing to gather himself before he whispered, “I’m scared baby, okay? Please.”

The fear in his voice was evident, his usually even tone getting progressively shakier before it dropped off entirely at the end. With your stomach clenched at his distress, the need to soothe Joel breathed life back into your heavy limbs. The pain was brutal, but it was worth it to ease the mind of someone who had been haunted by loss for years. With sleep gluing your eyes shut, it took three tries before you managed to pry them open. 

The world was bright, so bright that it burned your retinas. The sun poured in from the windows, making your head pound as the light flooded every inch of the space. Sun spots danced in your eyes and you blinked them away, sighing as the room unfolded itself to you. 

A quiet gasp came from your mouth. The bedroom that had aided in your isolation during the most formative years, in the home you hoped never to return to, was where you found yourself. Echoes of thinly veiled threats and constant disparagement rang in your ears as your eyes wheeled around the small room. A shiver racked your body as phantom fingers pinched at the softer parts of your body and gripped at your throat. 

From the rickety bed, you saw that all of the decorations were still hung on the walls and the laundry was still stuffed in a forgotten chair. It was just as you had left it. For some reason, that made you hate being in it even more. It was like you had never left. Like finding your person, finding Joel Miller, had actually been the delusional daydream of the sad little girl that once lived in this house, but you knew that wasn’t true. Joel was yours, that part you were biologically incapable of forgetting, but you couldn’t remember why he had been absent for some time. 

The past few days were a blur. All the blood, the fighting, the adrenaline, the fear, had numbed you to reality. If you kept fighting, there was no time to think about what you were doing. The only thing you were focused on was getting Joel back, no matter the price. He was the only person you absolutely couldn’t lose. The thought of his death was too much. After struggling for years, there was no way you were going to live in a world without him. 

It was only when his teary face clouded your view that you were forced to remember. 

The cabin, Joel being taken, the blood you had spilt, Allie and Cooper, and finally, the encounter with Paul. All of it came rushing back as Joel held your face in his hands. You could barely focus on the words, still too groggy and weighed down with chilling memories to fully listen as he rambled about how worried he was. 

Joel gently caressed your face, looking down at you with so much love as he continued to speak earnestly. It was so sweet that you wanted to try for him, but the aching in your throat reminded you of how Paul’s fingers had dug into the skin. His rapid words were becoming more and more overstimulating as nausea crept up from your gut. 

“... and I knew you needed rest but shit, you’ve been out for days. I didn’t know what to do and I-I’m not a doctor and I-”

Shakily, you reached up and pressed your hand against his mouth. Joel’s eyes widened, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar before a deeper look of understanding spread out on his face. He nodded, lifting your hand to press a kiss to the bruised knuckles before he placed it back on the bed. 

He reached out, his hands swallowing your left hand in a firm grasp as his big brown eyes looked down at you hopefully. A silence fell in the room but you were okay with it, taking a moment to take in the beast of a man that you had missed so badly. At first, all you noticed was his usual features. The strong nose with the scar across the bridge of it, the plush lips, the scruff on his cheeks, the bald spot on his beard that you loved to kiss, they were exactly where you had left them. However, after a few seconds reality seeped in. 

Joel’s eyes were bloodshot and glossy as they analyzed every emotion on your face. His face was puffy, bruised in so many places that they seemed to run together. Some darkened his skin with a deep purple, while others had already started to fade into a light green. 

“How-,” you stopped to clear your swollen throat, “How long have I been asleep?” 

He sniffed again, hastily wiping at his puffy eyes before he said, “Four days.” 

Four days? At first, your mind rebelled against the idea. There was no way you could’ve been asleep for that long. However, with the stiffness in your limbs and the fog over your thoughts, four days seemed likely. Your mouth was parched, lips cracked as you smacked them together unceremoniously. That flipped a switch in Joel and you started as he jumped up suddenly. He mumbled something about water, giving you a soft kiss before he jogged out of the room. 

His heavy footfalls receded down the hall and you sighed. With Joel out of the room, the walls felt like they were closing in. The thought of being in this place had been bad enough, but with him gone it felt like a nightmare. Any bravery that had strengthened your resolve during the past few days was long gone, leaving you powerless as you awaited his return. 

You waited a few seconds until he had turned into one of the rooms and was out of earshot. The last thing you wanted was to be in this room alone. With nervousness twisting your stomach,  you mustered the strength to pull yourself up. 

Black spots dotted your eyes as you heaved yourself up. Pain erupted from your neck, shooting bolts of electricity down your spine and you hissed. Clenching your jaw, you pushed against the mattress with your right hand. More lightning bolts erupted from your shattered wrist, making you let out a groan. The splint on your wrist did little to help with the pressure as you pulled yourself up against the headboard. 

Despite the brief triumph of sitting up in bed, bile rose from the depths of your stomach and threatened to spew from your mouth. The thirst didn’t matter anymore, not with the way every muscle in your body screamed in agony. The corners of your vision were darkened and you focused hard on breathing. The room had just begun to stop spinning when Joel walked back in. 

“Okay, so I’ve got - Shit! What the hell are ya doing?!,” he exclaimed. 

You smiled weakly, knowing that this wasn’t a good look. A sickly sheen of sweat glimmered in the sun, illuminating the injuries that covered your body. Joel grimaced and marched forward, reaching to lay you back down the moment he got to the bed. 

“What? No! I’m fine Joel, cut it out,” you grumbled, swatting at his insistent hands as he tried to pull you down by the legs. 

He stopped, eyes ablaze as he sucked his teeth in annoyance. Crossing his arms over his chest, you tried not to laugh at how bitchy he looked with his knee cocked out and his eyebrow raised. Laughing at him when he was this angry would only make him more upset. Regardless of the fact that you found it amusing, you didn’t want to put him in any more distress. Slowly, you reached out for him. The weakness in your limbs still lingered, making you drop it back down to the sheets in an instant. 

“Joel,” you sighed, “I’ve been asleep for days, I need to sit up.” 

Joel looked at you for a while, mouth twisted to the side before he finally sighed and nodded. You smiled, noticing how the corner of his mouth twitched at the sight of it. He took the hand you had reached out to him, kissing the back of it as he sat down on the bed. The both of you let out quiet groans, the movement aggravating every ache that burned through your bodies.  His eyes snapped up to yours and he frowned, looking heartbroken as he passed you a glass of water.

The cup was heavier than you expected and you fumbled it immediately. You tried to lift it up to reach your lips but the hefty drop of water that landed on the bed was the last straw for the alpha. Joel swiftly snatched the glass from your shaky hands, glaring at you when you tried to protest his coddling. 

Gently, Joel tipped the glass into your mouth. Tepid water slid down your throat, soothing a bit of the scratchiness that burned so badly. Swallowing was still a harrowing task, but the drink still alleviated some of the pain. You drank a few more times, nodding to him once you were finished. 

Joel placed the glass on the bedside table before grabbing your hand once more. Thumb brushing over the skin, his eyes were full of sadness and longing. He looked like a ghost of himself, with the light in his eyes faded from looking at the state of you. A lump formed in your throat and you fought hard to swallow any tears that threatened to wet your lash line. 

You squeezed his hand, “Baby, I’m fine.” 

He looked away, shaking his head aggressively as he mumbled something to himself. Joel caught your eye once more and underneath all the injuries, you saw a man who was terrified. The corners of his nose were reddened and raw from days filled with tears. You frowned at that, chest tightening at the knowledge that Joel had been crying over you. 

“Thing is darling, you weren’t fine. I should’ve…” he paused and swallowed hard, “When you came out, you were bleeding and wheezing. And I was so happy and then you just stopped breathing.” 

You barely remembered that. All you could remember was hearing Joel call your name through the fog of the pain and smoke. Guilt seeped in from the corners of your mind, making you gasp as you remembered the willingness you had to follow him into the dark. Believing that he was already dead, you had decided to give up, and now Joel was hurt because of it. 

“Joel I-,” you stopped, unsure of what to say to him. 

What was there to say? Sacrificing yourself to save him had come naturally. It was as easy as breathing when the other option was a life without him. Of course if he died, you would let yourself go on the chapel steps. What did he expect? But you couldn’t say that, not to him, not ever. He wouldn’t have it. 

Joel closed his eyes and breathed in from his nose. The anguish he felt pinched all the lines in his forehead together and it pulled a sympathetic noise from you. His eyes snapped open at the sound of your whine, flashing with anger once more as he mashed his teeth together. 

“They took me and you just… went after me? They told me you were killing most of their guards, is that true?” he asked cooly. 

There was no point in lying, you knew Joel would see through it. 

You nodded solemnly, “They took you from me. What would you have done?” 

That shocked him. So much so that he dropped your hand on the bed and raked his fingers through his unkempt curls. The tension in the air grew as Joel tried to find a way to argue against your point. His jaw clicked from the pressure of his teeth grinding but he ignored, too focused on finding a solid argument against your point. The thought of bickering with him was so mundane that it almost made you smile but you held back in light of the circumstance. Instead, you decided to keep going. 

“Alpha, look at me,” you whined. 

It took a second for him to heed your request. Joel fought against his own instincts, looking away for as long as possible before the alpha in him took over. When his gaze finally landed on yours, Joel’s eyes softened and you weakly made grabby hands at him. 

Joel sighed at your request, his anger melting away as he scooted into your space. The lines in his face smoothed out, making him look years younger despite the growing patches of gray in his beard and curls. As always, his body was warm and you hummed at the proximity. A wave of calm rushed over you, his presence making you more level headed instantly. 

“Listen, we’re mates and they took you. I didn’t… Well, if I’m being honest, I didn’t know I had that in me but I’m not sorry. Those guys fucking sucked and they took the love of my life from me, okay? There’s no regrets,” you explained. 

He winced at your words and you tried not to feel embarrassed. It was what he would have done, so why was this any different? 

“What about putting yourself in real danger by getting that close to him? What about telling Cooper not to tell me where you ran off to? It’s like you were trying to die or something,” he spat. 

The tone of his voice made you wince. It was true, you had told Cooper that, but the problem had been yours to finish. Paul coming after everyone was your mess, meaning that it was your job to clean it up. 

The pelting of the snow against the window picked up and you dropped the smile from your face. Suddenly, the sound of a fire crackling and the smell of smoke pulled you from the conversation. Blinking once, then twice, you gulped audibly as you tried to forget the feeling of hands wrapped around your throat. 

“I-I, uh-” 

Joel continued, getting more worked up as he went on, “It’s supposed to be me and you, ain’t it? Me and you, nobody else. Sacrificing yourself is not a part of the deal sweetheart, that’s betrayal.” 

You blinked, throat tightening for a whole other reason. His words stung but you understood his anger. If Joel had done what you did, you would have been pissed. However, the way he looked at you was too much. It was never your intention to hurt him. 

“I c-couldn’t have you dying for me, or anyone else. It’s just - oh fuck - Joel, it didn’t matter what he did to me. I just couldn’t let him hurt any of the people I love, can’t you see that?” you cried out. 

“HURT PEOPLE YOU LOVE?!,” Joel exploded, “DO YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD HURT ME?! IF YOU DIED! THAT WOULD FUCKING KILL ME! DON’T YOU FUCKING GET THAT?!”

A soft whimper was all you gave in response as tears poured down your face. You were tired, so tired of everything and he was being so mean. Sobs racked your body. The bruises on your ribs protested, aching with each breath, but you couldn’t stop. Not with Joel sat there in silence, biting his lip as he watched you break apart in front of him. That stung. You wanted him to hold you in arms, to kiss your face and rub your hip with his thumb like he usually did, but he was completely still. 

“Joel, please,” you whispered pitifully. 

He sighed and rubbed his face. Although Joel was inches away, it felt like miles as you waited for him to touch you. Looking down at the state of your body, you suddenly felt a wave of self consciousness. He had changed you into one of your old shirts, the formerly baggy material now taut against your chest and hips, but the rest of your bruises were clear in the light of day. More tears dripped down your face, splattering against the soft cotton as you chewed on the inside of your mouth in contemplation. 

“He didn’t… I mean, he tried, but um… It’s still only you, if that’s what you are uh, worried about,” you mumbled as more tears fell onto the comforter. 

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see if he looked at you differently with the admission. Alphas were territorial, you knew that, so you guessed it was that he was worried about. With your eyes still shut, you heard Joel move to get up from the bed. The sound of him leaving the bedside made your heart fall to the floor and shatter. The air in the room was suddenly stifling, making you breathe in sharply as the holes that had formed over the years in your heart widened. You wanted to sink into the earth, to let the cold dirt cover you until it silenced every thought or feeling. 

As you spiraled further into misery, you were surprised to feel Joel move onto the bed behind you. His strong arms pulled you down onto your side, careful to rearrange you so that his face was inches from yours on the pillow. Despite the tears, his blurred face didn’t look angry, just sad. Joel stroked the side of your head thoughtfully before he leaned forward to kiss your forehead. With him seemingly not upset, you tried again. 

“Please, I’m sorry. I just… I love you. I couldn’t let you die and he was going to kill not just you, but others. I didn’t want to go with him, I just-”

Joel cut you off, pressing his chapped lips to yours softly. You stopped, shocked at the contact at first but quickly melting into him. He allowed it to go on for a few seconds, softly pouring his love and devotion into the kiss before he pulled back. As his lips left yours, your dampened eyes fluttered open to see that his had softened. 

“S’okay baby, don’t cry. M’not mad at ya for going with him. Well… Maybe I am a little but it’s not cus of that. You’re lucky you got out but if ya hadn’t, you know that wouldn’t have been your fault right? I woulda been madder than hell, but not at you. Never at you, darling. ”

You sniffed and nodded, scooching closer to him in search of reassurance. He welcomed your proximity, lifting one of his hands to scratch softly at the tangled strands on your head. It spooked you at first, the feeling of someone being so soft with you after days of all out war, but Joel whispered sweet words until you finally relaxed. As if on cue, his scent started to grow stronger to soothe the omega in need and it numbed the edges of the despair. 

Joel nodded back and sighed, squeezing you closer as he mumbled, “I love you, okay? That ain’t ever gonna stop but I just… You can’t sacrifice yourself like that again, okay? Ever. I don’t care whose life is on the line, you ain’t allowed. This - I can’t - fuck… You can’t just do that.” 

“I’m not allowed?,” you rolled your eyes, “Really?” 

He cocked an eyebrow as you laughed at his request. You were about to roast his attempt at direction, but karma got to you first. Instead, the laugh made your throat burn so badly that Joel had to reach over for the glass of water. After a few sips, the coughing stopped and he set it back down. With the hacking at bay, the room grew silent. 

“I wasn’t kidding,” he said quietly. 

“I know,” you answered back softly. 

Joel’s gaze was soft but there was a hint of desperation to it as he brushed his fingers over every inch of your body. It felt good, having him soften for you again. It was like seeing the skies open up with a downpour during a fierce drought. You tried to think of a compromise, anything to get him to back off but you knew he wouldn’t buy it. Joel needed you to say that you would let him die, if it came to it. 

As the relationship between Joel and you had changed back in the cabin, you decided never to lie to him. There was no point, not when the man spent every waking second trying to make you happy and only ever wanted to be around you. Plus, he was a good listener, despite the fact that he forgot people’s names sometimes. However, the broken look on his face persuaded you to break the no lying streak. There was no way you were ever going to let him die for you, but he didn’t need to know that. 

“Fine, no sacrificing. Scouts honor,” you agreed. 

“You were in the scouts?” he scoffed, smiling wryly at the notion. 

“In all honesty, I don’t know what the scouts are. It’s just something I’ve heard people say in books and movies. Is it something from one of those shows you’re talking about? Is that the MASH thing you’re always talking about?,” you guessed. 

It was Joel’s turn to laugh this time and it was beautiful. You didn’t even mind the way it jostled the bed, making a few of your injuries smart with the movement. He looked years younger when he laughed and you smiled at him as boisterous laughter turned to muted chuckles. Carefully, you reached over and rubbed over the mark on his neck with your thumb. 

He sighed at the feeling, “Fuck, I’m old.”

“Distinguished,” you giggled. 

Joel snorted and kissed the palm of your hand. He moved closer towards you, resting his forehead against yours as he sighed. The feeling of him being so close was intoxicating. You basked in his scent, allowing it to draw you into an almost meditative state as you looked into each other’s eyes. 

“M’not strong enough to go on without you darling. That’s not… I can’t do that again, alright? I can’t lose someone that I love again. Please, just… You can’t do that to me,” he whispered against your lips. 

You felt every syllable, both from his soft lifts brushing against yours and in the burn that settled in your chest. Joel had been through so much, all he wanted from you was to stay alive. Of course you would try, but you needed him to live too. 

“I understand Joel. Just… You can’t do it to me either, alright? I know that you’re gonna say that you’ve lived longer or something about being the alpha, but I don’t care. I couldn’t go on either baby. I wouldn’t want to,” you sighed, brushing the curls from his forehead. 

His mouth twisted up and you heard his teeth clack together from the pressure. Joel squinted at you in annoyance, a red flush forming on his cheeks as he tried to work his way out the deal. 

“Honey, I know you love me. It’s not that, I just - I’m 56 years old. I can’t just let you -”

“I’m not telling you to let me die Joel. Save me, but don’t you dare die. I don’t want you to die for me, I need you to live.”

During your time alone, you had missed life with Joel. It wasn’t just the rose he carved, or the meals he made, or the way he fucked you into the mattress, it was the mundane things. You missed the way he looked in the mornings, the way he let you hug him from behind as he cooked something on the stuff, the way he was constantly absent mindedly covering you with layers of blankets or sweaters. The life the two of you had together was short, but you needed more of it. The oasis you found in one another was a once in a lifetime thing, you felt it deep in your bones. 

“No dying for each other, just… Just living,” Joel mumbled. 

You nodded, giving him a small smile. Leaning forward, you gently kissed the side of his mouth. He sighed and pressed his nose into your neck, huffing at the skin there as you played with his hair. It hurt a little, with the area so bruised and tender, but you allowed him to scent you as he wished. Joel had clearly washed your skin the best he could as you slept, but it wasn’t enough to completely block out HIS scent. With your own alpha’s smell overtaking the sour stench that lingered before, a sense of calm filled you and opened the floodgates. 

“I don’t think I want to talk about it yet. Not all of it at least,” you whispered, scared he might ask more about the slaughter or Paul. 

He kissed the flesh below your ear, right over the indents he made with his teeth and you closed your eyes. 

“S’okay darling, whenever you’re ready.”

Joel continued kissing over the bruises delicately as you cycled through your emotions. The smile at his sweetness quickly morphed into distressed cries but he continued. Your shaky hands grasped at the back of his head as he continued his tenderness, pushing him into your skin harder until his nose was squashed. If it bothered Joel, he didn’t say anything, clearly rathering to continue brushing his lips against every inch of your neck. He circled back to your mark every now and again, almost like a reminder each time the crying got louder again. 

Grief, pain, disgust, fear, sadness, and love all brewed beneath the surface. So many conflicting emotions made your head spin as you tried to calm yourself. They were released in the quiet cries, until only the feeling of Joel’s scruffy cheeks tickling your skin remained. Although you went through the full wheelhouse of emotions, love was what you felt at him being near and your throat grew thick with it. 

“I’ve missed you so much baby,” you choked out. 

Joel pulled back, eyes shining as he pressed a longer kiss to your lips. It was still tame, the both of you too injured and traumatized for it to go anywhere, but it was passionate. You poured every ounce of love you had for him in it and in turn, he did the same. When Joel broke away, your face was flushed and he smiled at the way your lips mindlessly followed his. 

He sighed, “I’ve missed you too honey, more than you could ever know. Never stopped thinking about ya.” 

A grin split your face in two, making your cheeks burn as you snuggled into his chest. The thought of him thinking of you, in any context, immediately made you giddy. Without any prompting, Joel wrapped his arms around you and placed his chin on top of your head. Like a practiced dance, the two of you were tangled in each other in seconds. You pressed your face into the expanse of his chest, breathing in his spiciness until it was the only thing you could think of. 

While you were slowly drifting off, lulled by his presence and smell, Joel was still wide awake. You could feel him gearing up to say something, despite the fact that you were slipping back into sleep. 

“We’ve gotta get some food in ya baby, it’s been awhile since you’ve been awake. There isn’t much but some applesauce could be okay on your stomach, I don’t know if -” 

Just like you had before, you reached up and covered his mouth to cut off his rambling. Joel made an indignant noise, trying to shake you off before he settled on licking your hand. The feeling of his tongue against your palm was ticklish and you chuckled, ignoring the jolts of pain that rattled in your chest as you kept your hand in place. 

“Nice try, but you’ve literally spat in my mouth before. Pretty sure I can handle a licked hand,” you sassed, voice muffled by his chest. 

Joel shook his head at your words, his chin brushing against the crown of your head with the movement. You smiled, knowing that his face was undoubtedly twisted into his signature scowl at your wording. 

“Jesus darling, the mouth of yours is as crass as ever,” he huffed in amusement. 

The nod you answered with knocked your forehead against Joel’s chin. The force of the collision was hard and you groaned in unison, which in turn made you both chuckle. He pulled back, looking lighter than ever as he studied your face. 

“You need to eat,” Joel pressed. 

You sighed and ignored him, pressing your face against his chest to ignore him. When he tried to extradite himself from the bed, you quickly buried your fingers into his hair. A loud, almost pornographic groan left Joel’s mouth at the circles you rubbed, making him ease himself back down again. He was a sucker for scalp massages and you knew it, having been crushed by his body multiple times after rubbing his head in bed. 

Begrudgingly, Joel wrapped himself around you again and you smiled at the victory. Although he grumbled to himself, you could tell he was only half as exasperated as he let on to be. It was hard for him to act tough with your fingers working magic on the rubber band he found wrapped around his skull every day. 

“I’ll eat,” you sighed dreamily, “Just hold me some more.” 

How could he say no to that? Joel softened, pressing his nose into your hair to breathe in some of your scent as you burrowed deeper into him. The warmth of his body was intense. You had forgotten how much heat the alpha emitted and it was a relief to finally have your personal space heater back. For days, you had barely slept. When you had, it was brief and the truck didn’t hold heat long enough for it to be comfortable. Without Joel quite literally warming your bed, you weren’t sure you would ever have a good night’s sleep ever again. 

“Feel like I’ve heard that one before,” he argued but there was no bite to it. 

There couldn’t be, not when the two of you fit together so perfectly, despite everything. The bruises on both of your bodies hadn’t healed and there were definitely loads to talk about, but the feeling of Joel against you was enough for now. If he was with you, you were home. That was all you needed.  

“I love you,” you whispered. 

You waited, and almost said it again in case he hadn’t picked up on it, but all you got back from him was the start of a loud snore. Looking back up, Joel was out cold. His mouth was wide open, drool threatening to drip down the side of his face as he slumbered hard. He must’ve been awake since he found you, which would have been about four days. And who knows how well he had slept at Paul’s camp? 

The realization hit you hard as you watched him sleep. Imagining Joel awake, fearful to sleep in case something happened to you was devastating. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his throat in thanks. His face twitched at the contact, arms drawing you even closer, but he remained asleep. With Joel’s body surrounding your own, peace washed over you. There was no confusion or fear or grieving, as it had been as of late, just complete tranquility in the silence of the afternoon. 

As the day passed, you laid there and allowed him to rest while watching the shadows change on his face. Originally, you had promised yourself that you would stay alert for the sake of your slumbering mate. Knowing Joel, he probably made some promise to himself to never rest again in an insane plan to keep you safe. It was unreasonable obviously, but completely on brand. Nevertheless, as the day passed, you felt yourself drifting away as you saw the beginnings of a reddened sunset in the golden hue of his skin. 

You called out to him quietly, bidding Joel goodnight as you slipped further into sleep with his arms still holding you. The simple act of bidding him goodnight, of pressing yourself against as he slept, forced a soft smile on your face that you knew would linger well into the night. 

Joel was here.

You were with him. 

You were home.

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return: Part 11

Uninterrupted

Part 1 | Part 12 | Table of Contents | Read this on A03

A/N: Hey folks, just a Coza note: this is quite literally just my attempt at smut. There is no important content in this, so if you don’t like the way I write smut or just don’t want to read it, that’s okay! You can imagine a *fade to black* scenario and skip to the next chapter when it comes out! If you are choosing to read this, I should warn you that smut is NOT my strong suit, but I hope you enjoy it to some degree anyway. 

Word Count: 2.4k Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace CW: NSFW (minors please boot scoot & boogy outta here), it’s sex idk, princess pet name and some praising going on, dumbification if you squint really hard, unprotected sex, yeah let me know if I missed anything I guess i dont know what should be noted in this part

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You let out a soft moan as Ace’s lips pulled away from the nape of your neck. He has been slowly working his way down your neck, and as his lips brushed across the collar of your shirt, you realized you needed it off of your body immediately. 

Your fingers left his hair and gripped the bottom of your shirt, but Ace stopped you from pulling it off. You shot him an irritated look, but he only smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, watching your eyes for any moment of hesitation. 

“I’m sure,” you breathed out. You went to pull your shirt off, but Ace stopped you again. 

“We can stop any time you want,” Ace said, still watching you closely. 

You raised an eyebrow. “And what if I don’t want to stop? We go all night long?”

Ace’s eyes widened, but you could feel his cock twitch under you in response to your words, and you took his stunned silence to finally pull your shirt off and toss it to the side. 

He was trying hard not to stare at your breasts. He was trying hard to be a gentleman. But you weren’t interested in gentlemen's actions at the moment. Pulling him back in for another deep kiss, you pressed your chest against his, flesh against flesh. 

Something in Ace seemed to ignite, and his passion intensified. His kisses were more intense, becoming more vocal and desperate. His hands found your breasts, and his fingers skillfully traced around your nipples, teasing and pinching your sensitive mounds. 

You let out a desperate whine, encouraging him further. You wanted nothing more than for Portgas D. Ace to get on to the main event, but he seemed to be having plenty of fun watching you moan in a puddle of frustration and pleasure. 

“The bed,” you breathed, finally breaking apart from him. “Let’s move there.”

“So eager,” he chuckled, peppering your neck with soft kisses.

You tilted your head and arched your back as his lips ventured further down your chest until you could feel his hot breath hovering over your breasts. 

Oh, that cocky bastard was edging you as far as he could, trying to make you melt under his fingers. It was working, of course. But two could play at that game.

You began rocking against his hardened cock, whimpering softly at the stimulation. Ace gave a shaky breath, and you used that moment to move your chest closer to him, forcing his lips to touch your skin. He froze for a moment, then began sucking on your soft skin. 

His tongue swirled over your nipple, causing you to let out an involuntary gasp. Your lips formed his name with every heavy breath. He began sucking hard across your skin, leaving a trail of pink welts behind. Your hands found his sandy blonde hair, twisting and pulling it as your heart rate escalated. You could feel a pool of wetness between your thighs, and you cursed the layers of fabric that still existed between you and him. 

“You really like to demand things, don’t you princess?” Ace mumbled as you pushed him to your other breast. Plenty of people on the ship had called you princess over the years, mostly as an insult. You had come to despise the nickname. But you like the way it rolled off Ace’s lips. 

You hummed, a giggle escaping your lips at his words. “I like to get my way.”

“Then get on the bed.” His command came out as a growl, and you could feel a cord tightening in your abdomen.

As you stood, his fingers reached to your waistband and gently tugged on your pajama bottoms. They had been loose to begin with, and fell to your ankles with little resistance. His face was inches away from your cunt now, only the silky fabric of your underwear separating the two of you. Your heartbeat was in your ears as you watched him, suddenly feeling vulnerable being so exposed to him. You hated that he made you so nervous all the time.

Ace seemed to be in his own little world now. Earlier, he had been afraid to stare at your chest, but now he held no shame in staring at your panties. 

“Ace,” you prompted, eager to get on with the event. 

He pressed his lips to the thin fabric for a moment and then hopped to his feet. Ace grabbed your hand and led you across the room to the bed, oblivious to the fluster he had just caused you with his kiss. As you reached the bed, he hesitated before he sat down. Instead, he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“So now that you got your way and we’re at the bed, what else do you want?” 

Your mouth dropped open, trying to think of a way to properly respond without revealing just how badly you wanted him. 

Ace pulled away and smirked at your shock, pleased that he was finally starting to be able to stun you into silence. His fingertips ignited small flames, and he brushed them over your exposed torso, sending shivers of pleasure across your skin. The fire was warm but non-threatening; it sent a strange, tingling sensation over your body.  

A flamed finger traced across your collarbone and down your arm. “Well, princess?”

“You,” you breathed out. It was the only word you could muster in the moment. 

He must not have been expecting that answer, because his flames burned hotter and brighter for a second, before he extinguished them in a slight panic. He laughed nervously at his mishap. “If that had been anyone else, I would’ve burned them.”

You gave a seductive grin. “You can’t burn me, Fire Fist.”

His lips twitched into a smile. “No, I don’t suppose I can.” 

His lips crashed into yours again, and you both tumbled onto the bed, intertwined. Your legs easily separated so he could position himself above you, and he quickly began jutting against you through the layers of fabric. He was still wearing those damn Navy dress pants, another layer between you and him. As attractive as he was in them, the only place you wanted them now was on the floor. 

You gave a soft whine of frustration, reaching for his belt buckle. 

“What?” he let out a heavy breath. His lips began to trail down your neck and your chest. 

“I want you.” 

“You’ve got me,” he teased. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“No,” you groaned. “More than that.”

He looked up at you, a devious grin on his face as he kissed the flesh right above your navel. He finally sat back on his heels, towering above as you laid helpless beneath him. One of his hands trailed down your torso and began tracing across your thin panties, making you squirm when his fingers ran across particularly sensitive spots.

“Tell me what you want,” he cooed, his eyes studying your face and every expression you made.

“I want you.” Your voice came out as a whimper, and Ace smirked. 

“I need more than that, love.” His fingers tucked under your panties, sliding up and down your folds with ease. Your eyes finally shut, and you let yourself start to fall apart at his skillful touch. 

“Stay with me,” Ace mumbled, his index finger prodding at your hole. 

A moan left your lips, and you could feel yourself clenching around his fingers that had already disappeared. You were so tired of him constantly edging you to the brink of ecstasy, only to leave you hanging. You were never a beggar, but for this you’d have to make an exception.

“I want you to fuck me,” you finally cried out in frustration, staring at him with bleary eyes. “Please, Ace.”

A devilish grin spread over his face, and suddenly his hands were at his belt buckle, desperately trying to unfasten it. You took the opportunity to pull your panties off and kick them to the side.

“Fuck.” Ace’s eyes were only on you as he pulled at his waistband, finally freeing his contained cock. 

Your eyes widened at his length, and you could feel your insides twist at the thought of taking all of him. But even still, you still wanted nothing more than him. 

Your legs spread open even further, inviting him in. Ace palmed himself a few times, examining your body with shaky breaths. He was trying to hide it, but you could see he was growing impatient. 

“Aceeee,” you sang his name, shaking your hips slightly. “Come on.”

He slid his cock up and down your folds a few times, covering himself in your slick. As he lined up at your entrance, he hesitated for a moment. 

“You sure you wanna do this?” 

You scoffed. “Just fuck me already, Portgas D. A--ah!” His name quickly turned into a gasp as he slowly pushed himself inside you. There was a slight burning sensation from the pressure, his girth forcing your hole to widen.

Your eyes rolled back as you struggled to adjust to his size. Your walls fluttered around him, filled completely, and then stretched even further. He gave you a moment to adjust, and then continued going even deeper, trying to see just how much of him you could take.

His calloused thumb reached down and began rubbing rough circles against your clit, causing you to let out a soft whimper. The mix of pain and pleasure; you hadn’t felt this alive in years. It felt like your entire body was on fire, tingling with excitement. 

Ace moaned your name as he bottomed out, and he held you there for a moment, stretching you as much as you could handle. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you squirm beneath him in frustration.

He pulled out of you completely, leaving you empty and longing for him again. You were about to protest, but he slammed his dick back inside of you, making your complaint come out as a garbled choke. 

“That’s a good girl,” Ace praised, starting to pump in and out of you rhythmically. “Take it all, okay?”

You gave him a teary-eyed nod, feeling that familiar tug in your stomach start to build again. He guided your legs up to rest on his shoulders and leaned down to give you a quick kiss on the lips. You smiled at his gentle touch, humming in approval. 

“You’re so cute like this,” Ace said, eyes moving down your body. “Laid out on display for me.”

“For you,” you echoed back. Your thoughts were starting to get muddled as he picked up the pace. You couldn’t think of anything or anyone else but him and you, together in this moment. Lewd noises filled the room, mixing with heavy breaths and soft moans as both of you climbed to the finish line. 

“Ace,” you whimpered. His cock was buried inside you, hitting your sweet spot time and time again. Your knees were becoming weak, your legs shaking from exhaustion. You were clenching around his cock, and your fingernails had embedded into his back as you tried to hold off your orgasm for as long as you could.

“Don’t hold back.” He gave you another kiss and buried his head in the crook of your neck. “Cum for me, princess.”

You did as you were told, and you felt the ecstasy wash over you as you cried out his name again and again. Your walls spasmed around him, and you felt his thrusts get sloppy and then stop altogether as he came inside you a moment later. Both of you hung there for a moment, riding out your high together with garbled chokes and tight grips around each other. 

When you both had finished, he collapsed on top of you, his head against your chest. You held him for a long time, your fingers dancing along his back. Neither of you wanted to move or speak, afraid that you would disturb the other and the raw emotion that hung in the air. 

Once your breathing and heartbeat had returned to normal, Ace sighed, kissed the nape of your neck, and got up. He grabbed his boxers and threw them on, and started to head for the door. 

“Ace?” you called out, your heart faltering at the idea he would leave you alone after such an intimate moment. 

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbled, shooting you a reassuring smile. You nodded, trying to settle your nerves. While he was gone, you took the time you were alone to find a fresh pair of pajamas to change into. 

He came back a few minutes later, two glasses of water in hand. He passed one off to you and downed his own. The space between you and Ace felt too wide, but you drank your water silently and then set the glass on the nightstand, resisting the urge to crawl back into his arms. 

“We should get some sleep,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. 

“I was thinking the same thing.” Ace wrapped his arms around you, pulled you against him, and gingerly kissed the top of your head. The two of you sank into the bed again, with you curled into his chest, his strong arms holding you tightly. 

Given the circumstances, you knew you should’ve offered to keep watch. You still had the Navy hunting after you. But Ace’s embrace was so comforting, and the bed was so cozy. You couldn’t help but quickly drift off into sleep, happier than you had been in a long time.

--

Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598  @morgyyyyyyy @trafalgardvivi  @fiestynatureweeb @frogpogjoghurt @beepboopcowboy @ms-portgas @luvyallbabes

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[accio-victuuri]

BJYX and Tennis 🎾🎾🎾🎾

this is a long overdue post related to a popular cpn among us and a shared interest for zz and wyb. it’s interesting that both of them have picked up this sport in a span of time that’s mostly close to each other. while you can argue that it’s a popular sport and anyone can pick it up, when it comes to them, it adds to the pattern of them liking something at the same time. why is it always them? 😂😂😂😂

i wanna say that there is really no “big evidence” out there that we know of yet, but i think it’s still an important one. maybe one day a piece will come up and we can revisit.

GG and Tennis

between them, gg picked it up first, or publicly showed off his love for it. As early as 9/2022 during the Loreal Pro live, he shared some recent stuff he’s been enjoying which were badminton, billiards and tennis.

11/2022 he became more partial of tennis when XZS shared photos and videos of him playing the sport. as soon as he did, even the china open weibo account invited him to come on over and play. tho ZZ is not known to be the most sporty person out there, it ties up with his desire to be more fit. during that time, we have seen ZZ who was working out often. so playing tennis seems to be a rational step, tho at the time, we didn’t know how it could contribute to CPN. he also had said in other interviews that he wants to try and do more things, which is so similar to how wyb approaches his life and why i believe they work so well together. 🤍

then in the next events that he attended and interviews, you can see him saying tennis more often.

Weibo TV Internet Video Summit Red Carpet:

“Exercise is a way to relax and relieve stress. If I had to say, tennis (is my favorite).”

Weibo night 2023 sina interview:

“If you ask about my favorite sport probably its tennis.”

he loves it so much, that when he shared a photo of his snowman last year, the heart he used is a tennis vibration dampener/ shock absorber. a silent nod to his love for the sport.

WYB and Tennis

what got me questioning the timeline of us saying that XZ started the whole tennis mania was yibo saying recently that he is playing tennis again. tho what i can only find is a 2015 video of him showing how he is playing tennis — which looks more like he was acting and doing it as a joke compared to now where he is obsessed with it. tho their hobbies should always be out there and spoken in public, knowing how quickly he picks things up, i don’t doubt he played the sport at one point before his other interests took over.

fast forward to now, starting the whole tennis story during chanel shenzhen where he was photographed playing and even the instructor posted about it. to being decked out in lacoste tennis gear. it was a quick switch cause we knew he has in his golf phase and then the love for tennis seemed to come from nowhere. we knew that the golf love was fueled by his co star from chang feng po lang. so who is the influence this time?

the evidence we see of him being in love with tennis started with bystander promos and then the recent post of ybo. i don’t know if we are gonna get more bits, unless he finds another hobby.

AND NOW IT’S CPN TIME. 🤍

the clowning immediately started as soon as wyb showed interest in the sport and we connected it to xz. which is usual for us cause we are cpfs! the speculation being, wyb played tennis before them dropped it. xz became a fan of the sport and most likely talked to wyb about it, hoping he would play with him. maybe they did play together at some point then wyb was lured into it lol. and now, it’s his new his favorite. i would honestly cackle if xzs somehow releases a clip of him playing tennis again. so/os are saying wyb is leeching or something but they don’t know it’s what boyfriends do! share each other’s likes!

recently, there were talks about a mystery photo of WYB going around that some are thinking is a time that they played together and that’s why WYB was cropped out. @rainbowsky talked about that here. but personally, i think this him with some friends or maybe an instructor + casual players. whoever posted that just wanted to share wyb’s photo. i’m not sure about the comments, but some are saying this place is close to where weibo night took place — an event they attended together. which makes people feel more 👀 about it.

their rackets are different but that doesn’t say much. they could use whatever they want. it’s weird tho that the recent ybo video posted had the brand of the racket blurred out when it wasn’t in the previous video. so why now?

ultimately, what attracts us to this cpn is the possibility that they play tennis together. also how they influence each other. whatever it is, i just hope they continue to go for the things they love and we will be here to support them. 💛

-END.

[autolenaphilia]

It's remarkable how easy Linux Mint is to use, compared to Linux's general forbidding reputation. It was really easy to set up for me who has no coding knowledge. I had to fiddle with the boot order in my BIOS a bit but no biggie. Follow the installation guide on the website, and you will be fine. You can boot from an USB too, and test out the OS before installing it and wiping your drive. Transfer data to an external drive before you do.

And you probably won't have much trouble once it is installed either. The default settings are reasonable, and can be changed. It's a very easy to use OS. I have had no problems doing most of the ordinary things I use an OS for. My most used programs on Windows was already things like Firefox, VLC media player and Libreoffice on windows, and they function just as fine on Linux Mint (and are indeed installed by default).

Gaming has given me some trouble, but honestly Lutris has solved most of them. Granted I run mostly so old games on this laptop that Scummvm and dosbox is a solution for many of them. And installing 32 bit libraries has solved others (running the command in this link in the terminal solved so many issues alone). I play very old games, if you can't tell.

Sure, part of how Mint is so user-friendly is that it imitates Windows graphical user interface. But to be honest, it does mean users coming from Windows are already used to the interface. And Mint imitates only the parts of it that work, like the taskbar. And Microsoft has had a bad habit of making the gui look like a phone or a tablet for years now, so Mint does a Windows-like gui better than Windows at this point.

Mint is better than Windows in being a user-friendly operating system in general. Windows being spyware and full of bloatware is well-known and LInux gets away from that bullshit. And just how polite MInt is about updates is a massive improvement. No forced reboots here while an update takes ages to install.

Mint is a long-term support distro, which means it focuses on stability over the latest updates to packages and programs, introducing updates not when they are first released, but after a while when any bugs have been ironed out. And that improves the OS's stability a lot, which I value over getting bleeding edge updates. If you want updates as soon as they happen, and are willing to tinker a bit to fix things, there are other distros which use a rolling-release model.

It is less demanding on the hardware without compromising functionality. Like the majority of Linux distros takes up way less space on the drive and less memory compared to Windows, you can get more life out of an old computer this way.

There are so many older computers that still function fine hardware-wise, but since the specs on that hardware are too weak to switch to a newer more-resource hungry version of Windows, the machines are abandoned because the OS ends up unsupported and unsafe to use. Windows 10 support is going to end in 2025, it might be extended, but the end of w10 support is going to be a blood bath for this very reason. So many computers can't meet the specs for Windows 11 that the switch will be painful. And I would urge you if you are affected by this to upgrade to a LInux distro instead of getting a new computer just for windows 11.