#just make her a universal blood donor

[teapetal44]

[fruitgoat]

My Dad tested positive (again) this morning. He started feeling poorly yesterday and as he’s the kind of person who barely noticed a headache when he was having aural migraines bad enough to send him to ER, I scampered off the couch and out of the house pretty damn quick. Based on the timeline, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me - I’ve coughed and sneezed more since getting home from vacation but we were all sure it was just allergies and I’ve tested negative. We’re currently pretty sure the culprit is the 24 hours spent at his 55th (?) high school reunion over the weekend. My Mom has surrendered to the fact that she’s going to test positive by tomorrow. So I’m sitting here in The Annex dithering. 500 yards away and now banned from entering my parents’ house.

(And I’m mad because the embossing power is not adhering correctly so I trashed at least a half dozen cards and that means I have to redesign my Rosh Hashanah cards and now they’re probably going to arrive late. But that’s a completely different issue.)

[reasonsforhope]

"The first modern attempt at transferring a uterus from one human to another occurred at the turn of the millennium. But surgeons had to remove the organ, which had become necrotic, 99 days later. The first successful transplant was performed in 2011 — but even then, the recipient wasn’t immediately able to get pregnant and deliver a baby. It took three more years for the first person in the world with a transplanted uterus to give birth. 

More than 70 such babies have been born globally in the decade since. “It’s a complete new world,” said Giuliano Testa, chief of abdominal transplant at Baylor University Medical Center.

Almost a third of those babies — 22 and counting — have been born in Dallas at Baylor. On Thursday, Testa and his team published a major cohort study in JAMA analyzing the results from the program’s first 20 patients. All women were of reproductive age and had no uterus (most having been born without one), but had at least one functioning ovary. Most of the uteri came from living donors, but two came from deceased donors.

Fourteen women had successful transplants, all of whom were able to have at least one baby.  

“That success rate is extraordinary, and I want that to get out there,” said Liza Johannesson, the medical director of uterus transplants at Baylor, who works with Testa and co-authored the study. “We want this to be an option for all women out there that need it.”

Six patients had transplant failures, all within two weeks of the procedure. Part of the problem may have been a learning curve: The study initially included only 10 patients, and five of the six with failed transplants were in that first group. These were “technical” failures, Testa said, involving aspects of the surgery such as how surgeons connected the organ’s blood vessels, what material was used for sutures, and selecting a uterus that would work well in a transplant. 

The team saw only one transplant fail in the second group of 10 people, the researchers said. All 20 transplants took place between September 2016 and August 2019.

Only one other cohort study has previously been published on uterus transplants, in 2022. A Swedish team, which included Johannesson before she moved to Baylor, performed seven successful transplants out of nine attempts. Six women, including the first transplant recipient to ever deliver a baby back in 2014, gave birth.

“It’s hard to extract data from that, because they were the first ones that did it,” Johannesson said. “This is the first time we can actually see the safety and efficacy of this procedure properly.”

So far, the signs are good: High success rates for transplants and live births, safe and healthy children so far, and early signs that immunosuppressants — typically given to transplant recipients so their bodies don’t reject the new organ — may not cause long-term harm, the researchers said. (The uterine transplants are removed after recipients no longer need them to deliver children.) And the Baylor team has figured out how to identify the right uterus for transfer: It should be from a donor who has had a baby before, is premenopausal, and, of course, who matches the blood type of the recipient, Testa said...

“They’ve really embraced the idea of practicing improvement as you go along, to understand how to make this safer or more effective. And that’s reflected in the results,” said Jessica Walter, an assistant professor of reproductive endocrinology and infertility at Northwestern University Feinberg School of Medicine, who co-authored an editorial on the research in JAMA...

Walter was a skeptic herself when she first learned about uterine transplants. The procedure seemed invasive and complicated. But she did her fellowship training at Penn Medicine, home to one of just four programs in the U.S. doing uterine transplants. 

“The firsts — the first time the patient received a transplant, the first time she got her period after the transplant, the positive pregnancy test,” Walter said. “Immersing myself in the science, the patients, the practitioners, and researchers — it really changed my opinion that this is science, and this is an innovation like anything else.” ...

Many transgender women are hopeful that uterine transplants might someday be available for them, but it’s likely a far-off possibility. Scientists need to rewind and do animal studies on how a uterus might fare in a different “hormonal milieu” before doing any clinical trials of the procedure with trans people, Wagner said.

Among cisgender women, more long-term research is still needed on the donors, recipients, and the children they have, experts said.

“We want other centers to start up,” Johannesson said. “Our main goal is to publish all of our data, as much as we can.”"

-via Stat, August 16, 2024

[zosan-secondchances]

The Pirate King of the North: Part 7

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead with One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Zoro should count his lucky stars when Nami showed up when she did. She was on her way to Sabaody Archipelago to personally deliver the map that he asked for. He hadn’t seen their former navigator for almost a decade so he was taken aback at how powerful she had become manipulating the weather the way she did. It’s not that he ever underestimated her before, but he won’t openly admit that to her. She practically took on an entire armada of Pacifistas on multiple Marine vessels without so much as getting a scratch or being seen. It looks like travelling the world on Weatheria has worked out very well for her. The swordsman reminds himself to send a letter to Usopp to compliment his handiwork with her new staff as well.

Law had received their message and had been waiting at Duval’s base ahead of them. They should be celebrating Sanji’s success and their return, but the Heart Pirates had no smiles to share that night.

Bepo pushed the stretcher where Sanji laid, rushing him to the surgery room aboard the Polar Tang. Keeping up with them, a few other members of the Heart Pirates worked together to wrap a breathing mask around the blonde’s face, manage the gas tanks and calibrate other medical equipment attached to the stretcher while Law held the IV line that’s secured to the blonde’s arm. He injects a clear liquid into the drip chamber as he walks along quickly.

Law

Penguin, I need that blood result as soon as you can get them. We may need to look for donors if we don’t have his type in stock. I doubt royal blood type comes in abundance.

Penguin

Yes, Captain!

Penguin turns his heel with a few other members of the crew following him. They walk past Zoro, who is following closely behind, the entire front of his robe stained with dried blood.

Sanji

Wait…

Law

Sleep tight, Mr. Prince-ya.

Sanji weakly pulls the pouch that was looped around his wrist. He stretches it towards Zoro, wincing when he holds out his hand to a certain extent.

Law

Don't move, idiot!

Seeing that Sanji wouldn't listen to the doctor, Zoro rushes to his side and grabs the pouch by its bottom. The blonde clasps Zoro’s hands in his as he holds onto it tightly. With a dry mouth, he speaks in a rasp.

Sanji

I'm entrusting these to you until I get back. Promise me that you won't lose them.

Zoro opens his mouth as if to say something but ends up staring at their hands. There's just about a million things that he wants to tell and ask him, but can't seem to decide which one to say out loud first.

Sanji resists closing his eyes shut. He props himself on the elbow on the side without the open wound, still holding onto the swordsman as if his life depended on it.

Law

Oi! Lay back down.

Sanji

Marimo, I need to hear it.

Zoro looks up to his eyes. What was once bright and blue are now completely filled with pain and desperation, much like a helpless animal cornered by a beast.

Sanji coughs, getting a splatter of blood on the white sheets of the stretcher, some drips at the corner of his mouth. Law pushes him back down by the chest.

Law

I said lay down! You’re making it worse!

Sanji

Zoro, your word.

Zoro wants to give him the moon on a silver string.

Sanji

Please….

Zoro

Y–yes! I promise.

Sanji

Good….

At that, Sanji succumbs to slumber.

—

Zoro emerges from inside the submarine and into the chill of the night on the top deck. His head is down and hands tucked inside his sleeves, working the pouch loops around his forearm to keep it secure and out of sight. He stops then straightens himself in front of Nami who’s reading the most recent papers that she had acquired just a few moments ago. When the navigator sees him, she quickly folds the paper and tucks it under an arm.

Nami

So…was that who I think it was?

Zoro

The Pirate King of the North?

Yeah….

Nami tilts her head on the side as she eases back against the railing of the deck.

Nami

The one you wanted dead.

Zoro

Yes.

Nami

For…what, twenty years? Give or take? And…now, for a reason you wouldn’t tell me, you want him…not dead?

Zoro

Y–yeah….

Zoro rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. It’s not that he doesn’t want to share any details with her, it’s just that he’s still trying to figure out how he feels about the man himself.

Nami

He’s kinda cute, actually. Minus all the bleeding.

Zoro

Yeah….

Nami raises her eyebrows. She gives the swordsman a moment to process his own response.

Zoro’s mind is still shocked and dazed following the events of Sabaody Archipelago. When he realises what he had said to the navigator, he stammers, and tries to find the right response to save himself. After not coming up with one, he settles with just crossing his arms and looking away grumpily. He eyes Duval’s tiki bar on one of their open docks where the man himself and the rest of his Flying Fish gang are currently at, drinking merrily while looking after the family that they had liberated.

Nami gives the swordsman a cheeky smile. After a second, her expression darkens.

Nami

You’re not going to like this then….

The navigator holds out the papers to him.

Zoro takes the papers hesitantly then unfolds them to the front page. His blood boils at the sight of the headlines.

“WORLD NOBLE DONATES TO CHARITY, GETS DISMEMBERED AND ROBBED BY PIRATE KING.”

Nami

Zoro…did this actually happen?

The swordsman remembers what Law had told him about the Marines twisting the truth in favour of the Celestial Dragons. While he knew that the headline and the article weren't entirely untrue, it didn't cover anything about the malice behind the World Noble. Unintentionally, he starts visibly shaking with fury, ripping the entirety of the paper from its sides. Purple aura starts to surround him and sparks of red zap from within. At that point, he wants to rid the face of the planet of all Celestial Dragons and their supporters.

Nami

Hey! I was reading that!

Duval

Is everything okay up there?!

Duval was shouting with concern from the tiki bar down at the docks. When Nami looks over from the side of the sub, she gives him and the worried crowd a reassuring wave after noticing how tense everyone had become–no doubt feeling the swordsman’s unintentional haki flexing.

Nami

Yes, yes! The adults are talking here, so don’t come up!

Duval

But I’m technically older than you….

Looking slightly hurt, Duval returns to making drinks for the people around him. He tries to think of a good distraction to take everyone’s attention from all that tension aboard the ship.

Nami carefully reaches out and places both her hands on Zoro’s shoulders.

Nami

I know this is hard, but you need to calm down. You can wreck this whole place just by doing that. You don’t want that to happen.

Zoro continues to tremble under her but the navigator has learned from the past that nagging him about this would just fan the flames. She approaches with care.

Nami

Remember your breathing exercises? How you had to really step it up because of Brook distracting you?

Zoro’s shoulders flinch at the memory. His aura starts to stabilise.

Nami

How about that song he likes to play…? Do you remember it?

Sure enough, when the swordsman finally gets his senses back, he hears the chorus of Bink’s Sake sung out happily below them by the drunk Flying Fish Pirates and the joyous family that they had freed. Touched at the scene, along with the memories that start flooding through his mind, he relaxes. His aura disappears as quickly as it came.

Nami gives Zoro a couple of pats on the shoulder and takes a step back, separating herself from him.

Nami

Good job. Now come on, let’s get a drink. You look like you could use one. Or two. Or several. Honestly, knowing you, you’d bleed them dry. Screw it, let’s go get drunk. It’s been a while!

Zoro smiles at that, and nods. He misses having a friend who he trusts enough to let his guard down–let alone someone who can keep up with him when it comes to drinking.

Seeing the papers almost tipped him over the edge. Everything that they’d gone through from that previous island left him drained and suffocating. Now, he just feels so tired that he just wants to spend the rest of the night drinking, then nap the whole week away–not wanting to think of a certain blonde who’s currently fighting for his life.

The swordsman misses the times when things are a lot less complicated and a lot more straightforward. At this stage in life, he expects himself to be older and wiser, to know exactly what to do and when. However, nowadays he finds that he’d been second-guessing himself a lot more than ever.

He begins to think about the seemingly innocent game show at Sabao Dome, and how it quickly spiralled into dealing with a Celestial Dragon. He wonders if telling Sanji not to kill him was the right thing to do, and starts questioning his own knowledge of the world. He thinks about his own ignorance and the consequences that someone else had paid for in his lack thereof.

Maybe some people just deserve to die, so he considers going back to get the job done out of spite now that he has a better understanding of how and why his “friend” sees the world the way he does, and the world hates him for it.

Out of nowhere, he feels a slim arm wrap around his own as his navigator friend pulls him out of his trance to walk with him side by side. He doesn’t know how long he’d been just standing there just staring blankly. He welcomes Nami’s presence as it brings him back to reality, taking the opportunity to ground himself.

With a deep breath, he focuses on what’s currently around him. He slowly comes to, feeling the navigator's warmth next to him, smelling the sea in the air, and hearing the sounds of his own feet against the wooden deck and the merry singing in the distance. He pulls himself together and decides that he should stand by his own morals, to stay strong and keep his values. Now is the worst time to falter. If he’s to prove himself to be a real man to protect his friends, he shouldn’t be one to bend so easily.

—

Zoro wakes up the next morning feeling like hell. He pushes himself off whatever ground surface he ended up on, running his hands over his face, trying to ease the throbbing pain in his head. He doesn’t get hangovers a lot but for whatever reason, this is one of the few rare moments when he does and he has it bad.

The swordsman stretches, then winces at the pain from his back and shoulders, only just realising how sore he is from all the fighting and fleeing yesterday. When he looks down, he sees that he’s in a very loose orange boiler suit with the Heart Pirates jolly roger embossed on its front pocket. His face scrunches as a memory comes to mind.

He remembers getting a full lecture from Nami for not changing out of his blood-stained clothes before going out drinking. The Heart Pirates agreed with her so they took matters into their own hands when he refused to take her advice. It took almost the full crew to pin him down so they could clean and dress his wounds to avoid infection. To add insult to injury, Bepo forced him into his spare clothes, which are the only ones that aren't too small for the swordsman, to keep him protected from the chill of the night. They were very concerned that he’d catch a cold, especially having been soaked for hours in the oceanic storm.

He looks around to figure out where he is, then recognises that he’s sat in the middle of the floor of their room aboard the Polar Tang. The familiarity gives him relief. Over at the bunk beds, he sees a mess of orange hair on his pillow. A flash of another memory comes back to him–he’d talked to Nami a lot last night. She promised that she’d be there for him as he waits for Sanji to come out of surgery.

Zoro scooches his butt so his back rests against the far wall. He turns his gaze at the round window. By the looks of it, it’s already late morning so they’d just missed breakfast in the ship’s galley. He digs through his mind, trying to figure out if he saw the blonde at some point in the night but can’t seem to recall anything of the sort. Then he hears blankets shuffle around.

Nami

Morning…. Ugh…someone, kill me.

The navigator struggles to push herself up to a sitting position. With both hands, she parts her hair from her face then nurses her forehead with her fingers. She swings her legs off to the side to face Zoro.

Nami

So…do you want to talk about last night?

Zoro raises a brow at her then returns his gaze to the window.

Zoro

What else is there to talk about? I told you everything already.

Nami

No, you haven't!! You passed out first so I didn’t get all the details!

Zoro groans at the volume of her raised voice. He covers his eyes with a hand.

Zoro

I don’t know what you’re talking about. Mind if you keep it down? You’re doing my head in, witch. Also I didn’t pass out first–you did.

Nami

You were about to tell me about the kiss!

Zoro

Oh–then, no.

Nami

Zoro! Come on! This is the first time I hear you being involved with someone! Is he your first?

Zoro

Look, just forget it, alright? My head wasn't in a good place and I had too much to drink. Why do you care anyway? It’s none of your business.

Nami stands and puts her hands on her hips, looming over him. She gives him an intimidating glare.

Nami

That's not fair, Zoro.

The swordsman grunts in annoyance and chooses not to face her out of spite.

Zoro

What did I do now?

Nami

Do you only talk to me when you have a favour to ask? Or when you need something from me?

Zoro slides his hand off his face to properly look the fuming navigator eye to eye.

Nami

Do you have any idea how worried everyone's been? Sometimes we don’t even know if you’re still alive because no one hears anything from you, sometimes for years. We only know you are because you'd pop up in the papers once in a while.

We try calling but you always throw your snails away. We send you letters but you've only ever replied twice. So you'll have to forgive me if I get all excited just to hear just a smidge of news from someone who means a lot in my life.

Tears welled up in her eyes and snot dripped from her nose as she spoke. She sniffs and runs an arm over her face in an attempt to clean her face.

Zoro’s eye softens and he stands in front of the now crying navigator.

Nami

I really, really miss everyone.

He opens his arms to her, and she runs into it, giving him a tight embrace. The swordsman returns her affection shyly with a hug of his own.

Nami

Zoro, we just want to be there for you.

Zoro

I know….

Nami

But you have to let us in, alright? Otherwise…

Nami pulls away to look up to him, gripping onto his arms.

 Nami

Otherwise…we don’t know if you’re okay.

Zoro quietly nods.

—

The family that were freed from the Celestial Dragons are enjoying their newfound freedom. The merchild had taken to swimming laps around the entire perimeter of Duval's base while the adults celebrated with the gang for hours on end, and doing absolutely anything they can think of “just because they can,” as one of them would say. Such things included eating food any time they wanted, sunbathing, running around wild, singing out loud and wearing the gang’s leather jackets for fun–anything and everything that they can think of they do happily–their future looking as bright as the sun above them.

Man 1

A–are you sure you want us in Weatheria?! We really don’t want to impose…everyone’s done so much for us already!

Nami

Don’t worry about it–you and your family are welcome to stay for as long as you like! We’ve got plenty of space up there and there are no Marines to catch you. It moves as fast as a den-den mushi but we go to different parts of the world collecting data about the weather. Maybe one day you can find a more permanent home but that’s really up to you.

Woman 1

Up to…us?

Nami

Yeah! It’s your life!

Nami turns her heel and waves behind her, walking away to join the swordsman who is currently fishing by a nearby pier.

Man 1

Did you hear that, junior? We can do whatever we want, and go wherever we want!

Merchild

REALLY?! Thank you, kind lady!!

The merchild jumps around happily, clapping to himself. He proceeds to swim all the way around the base for the twentieth time, spouting long streams of water from his lips as he goes–simply because he can.

Nami joins the unhappy looking swordsman who’s grown impatient from the lack of bites from his fishing line.

Zoro

“Kind” is a bit generous.

The navigator’s temper snaps. She delivers a strong kick to Zoro’s back, sending him flying into the horizon.

—

That afternoon, when Zoro had gone and changed into fresh dry clothes, he made his way to the infirmary and knocked on the door as soon as he was told that he could visit Sanji.

Law

Come in.

The swordsman quietly lets himself in, the cool air-conditioned room is a welcome sensation on his sunburnt face.

Law

Oh good, it’s the other one who doesn’t follow my plans.

Law scribbles angry notes onto a clipboard and hangs it on a nearby wall. His face is looking a lot more grumpier and sleep-deprived than usual, which makes sense given that he was up all night performing surgery. The swordsman isn’t even sure if he’s slept or eaten yet.

Zoro closes the door behind him. He puts his hands in his pockets as he approaches, looking at the sleeping blonde tucked comfortably in the infirmary bed. He felt relieved to see that Nami had used her cat burglar skills to pick the slave collar off him earlier. It was an ugly sight and he was glad to have rid of them. In place of it are bandages around his neck, proof that Law had already tended to the wounds.

As Zoro stares at the sleeping patient, the doctor frowns at him for wearing Bepo’s oversized outfit but chooses not to say anything about it. Instead, he stays on topic about his first point.

Law

You lot always do whatever the hell you want. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought that the Pirate King was a Straw Hat.

Zoro

Shut up. It’s not the end of the world, okay? Nami’s here, and we got the funds to pay her for the map.

Law

Great, but we still have to find a bubble ship, unless you know a way to make my ship fly. The only capable shipwrights that I know of who specialise in modifying submarines or making bubble ships are in Sabaody Archipelago.

Zoro crosses his arms and gives him an unimpressed face in return.

Zoro

You know the scientists in Weatheria practically invented bubble ships, right?

Law raises an eyebrow, intrigued at the idea.

Zoro

It’s smaller and probably can’t carry everyone you wanted…but it flies. If you play your cards right and you’re nice, maybe the Pirate King will give you more of his money to buy it off our navigator.

Zoro pulls out Sanji's bag from under his sleeve and shakes it in front of Law's face. Its contents jiggled with sound.

Law’s eye twitches at the bag, and at Zoro’s attitude towards him.

Law

I just saved his ass!

And since when do you care so much about him? He gave you everything he got, didn’t he? Given how much you wanted him dead, what’s stopping you from just leaving him behind right here and now?

With an impassive look on his face, Zoro returns the bag in his sleeve, pulls up a chair and sits by Sanji’s side. Calmly, he replies.

Zoro

Would you?

Law crosses his arms and looks away, thinking carefully, as if weighing his options whether or not to also ditch the swordsman who’s apparently now taken the Pirate King’s side–literally and figuratively. 

Law

No.

Zoro

Because you and I know that we’re better than this…

The swordsman reaches out to hold Sanji’s hand in his, gently stroking his knuckles with his thumb.

Zoro

And he needs to see that the world isn’t such a cruel place.

The doctor stays quiet, now looking at Zoro and Sanji’s entwined hands. After a few moments, he decides to give them privacy and walks towards the door.

Zoro

Hey, Traffy…

Law stops but doesn’t turn to face his way.

Zoro

Thanks….

We’ll find Corazon. I swear to you.

Law hides a smirk on his face and continues to move to the door.

Law

I know we will.

—

Zoro didn’t want to part with Nami so quickly, but he knew that the longer they stayed at Duval’s base, the more they put the people around them in danger. Law agreed with him, stating that they need to leave quickly before they leave too much evidence of their visit behind.

They purchased the map and the bubble ship from Nami as planned, giving her a single condensed Seastone that Sanji acquired. The swordsman wasn’t actually sure if the bubble ship was hers to give away, but nevertheless they finally have what they need to travel to Skypiea.

She had also given Bepo a work-in-progress copy of the Grand Line map with a very clear disclaimer stating that it’s incomplete so they may find islands that aren’t drawn on that she isn't aware of. When asked why she gave it for free, she looked at the swordsman and secretly told him that it’s a reward for opening up about his personal life. In truth, Zoro knew that her heart was too big for that, and that she’d give him anything if she thought he needed it.

Duval generously offered to escort Nami and the liberated family to Weatheria with his entire gang on their flying fish mounts to ensure their safe travel. He didn’t ask for much in return but he approached Law to see if he could give him a facelift so he could look just as “handsome” as the Pirate King. Zoro cringed at the idea, but the man was insistent that he wants the same popularity as Sanji did when he saw him in the video feed during the game show at Sabaody Archipelago. Naturally, the doctor refused until Duval begged him for the umpteenth time so Law had to say yes in the end just to shut the man up. Now, Duval looks like an extra “handsome” version of the Pirate King, but much taller.

It’s been three days since they set sail and Sanji still hadn’t woken up from his sleep after his big surgery. Law reports that it’s not because of the wounds inflicted on him but rather the serum that they detected in his blood. It was a type of drug that’s designed to keep the victim in a helpless state for several days. The fact that the blonde was awake for hours after receiving it would have taken a strong constitution on his part. They had flushed it out of his system successfully but his body still needs time to recover naturally. The whole idea of him potentially being in the hands of the Celestial Dragon in that state just makes the swordsman want to turn the ship around to give the World Noble a piece of his mind, and maybe shove one of his blades down his throat while he's at it.

Zoro felt particularly protective so he’d been spending most of his time keeping the blonde company in the infirmary instead of staying more comfortably in their bunk room. He’s been kindly lent a futon to be set up in the corner of the room whenever he needs it. Unsurprisingly, other Heart Pirates have also come to visit Sanji at least once a day not just to check in on their patient, but also to hang out, trying to be supportive of Zoro and hoping to be there the very moment Sanji wakes up. The swordsman welcomed their company lest he spirals too deep into his own mind which he’s been trying to avoid recently. 

Shachi

I reckon he did all that just so he can skip out of doing chores, the lazy fuck.

The others laughed at the snide comment as they played a round of cards between themselves on the floor. They figured that now is the best time to make fun of the blonde, in front of his own face, without worry of any retort.

Penguin

How do you like your new outfit, Mr. Bushido?

Zoro looks down, admiring the orange boiler suit that is now tailored exactly to his size. Over one side of his chest, they embossed the Straw Hat jolly roger on with the Heart Pirate’s one just underneath it, especially made just for him.

Zoro

It’s fine, thanks. It’s great, actually. Luffy would love it too.

Bepo

You properly look like one of us now! It’s a good colour!

Sanji

The Marimo…turned into a giant carrot.

Everyone in the room poke their head up from the floor to look at the blonde on the bed.

Sanji gives the crowd a warm smile and a weak wave.

Heart Pirates

CHORE BOY!!!

They immediately surround Sanji, giving him hugs, pats on the head and cheerful greetings.

Zoro stood behind them, watching the group finally celebrate his return and recovery. He can’t help but smile at the touching scene. The blonde makes eye contact with him and returns his grin with his own.

When the hype had gone down and they felt like they gave the blonde enough affection, the Heart Pirates wished Sanji well and returned to their duties to leave him to rest. Zoro closed the door behind them and turned to approach the bed.

Sanji

It's a shame that I didn't get to meet your nakama.

The blonde massages his neck where the heavy collar once was.

Sanji

I would have liked to have thanked her personally. It was like the heavens sent her.

Zoro lets out an unexpected hearty laugh, making Sanji jump.

Zoro

Sent from the hells, more like.

Sanji

Marimo! You talk about ladies that way?

Zoro

If you knew Nami, you would too.

Zoro gets a faceful of pillow thrown square at him.

—

Hours have passed since the Heart Pirates have left but Sanji can't seem to settle himself comfortably on the bed, his body feeling too sore to properly relax on the unfamiliar thin mattress under him. He gives up eventually and decides to watch the waves of the waters through the round window. He feels that familiar pull again, as if the ocean itself is beckoning him. It's a comfortable feeling that he's always sought after since reading about the All Blue when he was a child in that damp cell where his father kept him.

The repetitious calm waves eventually makes him drowsy, but he fights going back to sleep. He thinks, not just yet. He knew that he’d already missed out on precious days that he could have been spending being up and about, even with the limited space the Polar Tang offered. If he was being completely honest with himself, he’s also feeling scared and fragile–a feeling that hasn’t arisen until the recent encounter with the Celestial Dragon. He's afraid that if he falls asleep, he'd never wake up.

The bed sinks on one side. He turns his head to find that the swordsman had sat next to him, making him smile at the contact and the newfound comfort that the man seems to have with him. It was reassuring and warm to the heart but Sanji knew he’d have to stop whatever this is before he gets too emotionally attached to the man.

This isn’t supposed to happen. He’s planned to have the swordsman by his side as an asset as he does with Doflamingo–to instill fear where he needs it, and destruction where he wants it. The extra sex would have been beneficial as well.

He shouldn’t care about the swordsman. He wanted the challenge of turning someone worth their salt, someone who can keep up with him, someone who the Marines respected. He meant to strip him bare, break him slowly, confuse him, then use him. But now he can’t seem to get himself to do any of that.

Finding love wasn’t supposed to be on the table–or whatever it is that he’s feeling. He starts fearing for the things that might scare the swordsman if he learns too much about his life, and the heartbreak that will inevitably come if this gets too far.

Out of nowhere, Zoro reaches out and takes his hand in his. He gently lifts it to plant a light kiss on the back where an old scar is. The blonde’s eyes soften at the sight.

Sanji

Mellorine…

Zoro

You’re shaking. Have you gone for a nap?

Sanji

No… I couldn't.

The swordsman flips his hand and pecks an old burn mark on his wrist. He looks at Sanji in the eye then places his next kiss on his inner forearm where the burn spans. Slowly, he continued the trail of affection up his arm, then his shoulder, until he found the bandaged area of his neck, kissing over the material right in the middle where he very well knew an old scar is.

Sanji holds his breath as he feels Zoro’s tenderness in the area. The mark was from another slave collar that he tried to force off by hand when was younger, and he’d always associated it with nothing but pain. The swordsman's gentleness on it was a new sensation that made his heart practically flip.

He can’t help but stretch his neck to present himself, exposing his vulnerabilities and succumbing to the affection as the other man continues his barrage of kisses on different spots of his skin. His breath quickens. His face scrunches when he tries to resist the pleasure, only for his body to betray him and demand more.

Zoro pulls the blanket down with his teeth, revealing Sanji’s top half bare. He's fully unclothed aside from the wrappings around one side of his chest where he just had his surgery.

Zoro

This one, I know about….

Zoro kisses a scar on Sanji’s collarbone. He trails his lips down, finding his way on one of the blonde’s pecs, never removing his mouth off his skin.

Sanji

Mhmm…

Sanji wraps his arms around Zoro’s neck, spreading his legs to give him better access.

The swordsman takes the opportunity to mount the bed and hover over his figure with care. 

Sanji

You gave me that one and…

Sanji pushes Zoro’s head further down where the swordsman finds an old stab wound on the side of his waist where he once pierced him with Wado.

The swordsman gives it a light smooch.

Zoro

Don’t forget this one….

Zoro tilts his head and gives an unexpected lick along a deep scar on the V of Sanji’s hips, making the blonde yelp in surprise.

Sanji can’t help but chuckle at the playfulness of it all, entangling his fingers into the man’s soft hair.

The swordsman starts dragging his hands up and down Sanji’s front to soothe him, all the while continuing to lick and peck the man’s skin wherever he can find old and new wounds. They stay like this for a while, with Zoro remembering each instance when he’d harmed the man and leaving him gentle kisses in his wake like a form of apology.

Sanji

Marimo…why are you doing this?

Zoro

Hmm….

Zoro starts using his tongue, dragging it down from the man's chest, following the line in the middle of his abdomen.

The blonde takes a sharp inhale, arching his back. He ignores the slight pain from his chest.

The swordsman, liking the reaction, shuffles himself under Sanji’s blanket and covers himself in it. He continues his onslaught of kisses closer to Sanji’s core, out of sight between the man’s legs.

Sanji

Fuuuuck…

Sanji jerks his hips in the air involuntarily, trying to get any sort of friction.

Zoro

You were saying something?

Sanji

I… I forget.

Sanji’s mind has gone blank and can no longer see what Zoro’s doing. Everything became about touch alone. He could feel the swordsman’s rough hands glide over his hips and legs, comforting him. He remembers pain from the bite marks that the Celestial Dragon had bestowed on him. But now, in its place, the swordsman took his time to lightly kiss the area in his inner thigh as an attempt to make him forget by replacing the hurt with his own affections.

Sanji

Z–Zoro… I don’t know if I can get hard right now after…you know….

Zoro pokes his head out of the blanket to look at him eye to eye.

Zoro

That’s not what I’m doing this for.

Though…you do smell fuckin’ amazing down here.

Sanji winges.

Not wanting to torture the other man too much, the swordsman moves up, still dragging his lips over his skin. He leans his arms against the pillow, caging the blonde underneath him. He peppers his face with tender kisses–under the jaw, at the corner of his lips, the tip of his nose, and the spot between his brows. He repeats this on the other side. He feels the blonde release the breath he’d been holding, easing into his touch.

After a few moments, he feels pressure against his chest from Sanji trying to push him. The swordsman parts himself to look into his wide blue eyes. He looked pained.

Zoro

What's wrong?

Sanji

…I don't think I want to marry you anymore.

Zoro stops his movements abruptly. He pulls himself back to separate himself from the blonde. He sits back on his heels, his face looking confused and offended.

Sanji

Don’t take it the wrong way. It’s not that I don’t want to do this….

Sanji entwines his fingers around Zoro’s collar and pulls him back at his eye level. With his other hand, he brushes back stray strands of the swordsman’s hair that had gone awry on his forehead.

Sanji

I don’t want to marry you anymore because I want to do this right…. Whatever this is.

Zoro

Hmm…

Zoro eyes the blonde up and down, as if trying to gauge him and read his thoughts.

Zoro

Alright.

Sanji

Alright…?

Zoro

Yeah…I want to do this right too.

Whatever this is.

Sanji raises his eyebrows in surprise. He’s never been one to go exclusive and steady, but the swordsman didn’t explicitly say that. The one thing he knows for sure is that he wants Zoro in his life, in a very different way than he initially thought. Whatever plan that he had concocted for the man before had already gone down the drain ages ago, opening an opportunity for a fresh start. It’s not exactly the cleanest one, but it might be what he needs while he figures things out.

There is a knock on the door.

Zoro clumsily throws the blanket over Sanji’s head to cover his nakedness and readjusts himself back to a sitting position at the edge of the bed, trying to look as casual as he can.

Sanji sputters, pulling the blanket down from his face irritatingly, earning him a smirk from the swordsman.

Sanji

Hey!

There is another knock, this time, more urgent.

Sanji

It’s open!

Law opens the door slightly, just enough to poke his head in. He looks especially furious behind his polite tone.

Law

You have a guest, Mr. Prince-ya.

He steps inside and pushes the door wider. Behind him, a familiar man with long pointed blue hair and a dark cape around his shoulders ushers in. Sanji notices a particular iron helmet not being worn, but instead tucked under one of his arms, leaving his curled eyebrows exposed.

Zoro

Who’s this?

Sanji

Commander.

Commander 2

Your Highness. We lost track of him.

Sanji narrows his eyes, his expression instantly changing into something dire.

Sanji

Who, exactly?

Commander 2

The Warlord, Donquixote Doflamingo.

----------

Coloured to show that Sanji looks healthier when he's happy.

Also I really enjoyed drawing Zoro in Heart Pirates outfit!!

[samdeancrimespree]

i was just thinking what if part of the way you get demon blood out of your system was by taking in human blood. it helps ease the transition, like weaning, and it could make it more safe for sam. so dean’s like Me. I Volunteer. and no one can question it cause he’s a universal donor and he’s right there. sam is too shaky for them to safely put an iv in so dean just lets him drink it from his arm. and sam calms down, stops screaming. he pets sammy’s hair and hopes that he tastes better than ruby, that sam isn’t wishing for her right now. and sam sucks the cut for long enough that it forms a hickey .

[kckt88]

Let It Be Me I.

Summary:

Aemond and Y.N have been best friends for years, and as they approach 30 years old, Y.N decides that she wants to be a mother, so Aemond volunteers his services.

Warning(s): Language, Angst, Mentions of Past Cheating, Alternating POV, Masturbation, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V, Misunderstandings, Alys.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x Y.N (PAST AEMOND X ALYS)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 5383.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

"Y.N, I understand your desire to become a mother, but using a stranger as a sperm donor-it just doesn't sit right with me," Aemond said, his voice laced with concern. "Why not consider asking a friend instead? Someone you know and trust?"

Y.N furrowed her brow, considering Aemond's suggestion. "You know, I did speak to Aegon yesterday" she admitted quietly. "He offered to help."

Aemond's heart sank at the mention of his older brother. While Aegon was undoubtedly kind-hearted, the thought of Y.N having a child with him filled Aemond with a sense of unease. He couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't right.

Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out of his mouth. "Y.N, please-don't go to Aegon. Don't go to anyone else. I-I'll do it."

Y.N's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze locking with Aemond's. "What do you mean?"

Aemond took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "I mean-I'll be the father; we are best friends, and we know each other, and I’ll always be around so you’d have support”.

Y.N's breath caught in her throat, her heart thundering in her chest. She had never imagined Aemond would make such a bold offer. Yet, as she looked into his eye, she saw the sincerity and love reflected there.

Tears welled up in Y.N's eyes as she reached out to grasp Aemond's hand. "Aemond, are you sure? This is a huge decision."

Aemond nodded, his resolve unwavering. "I've never been surer of anything in my life”.

“I-I guess we could try it, at least this way the baby would have their father around” replied Y.N smiling.

“So, when do you want to do this?” asked Aemond.

“Next week-it’s supposed to be my most fertile week” replied Y.N.

“Ok-is there anything I need to do to make sure everything goes smoothly?”

“I think it would be a good idea for both of us to abstain from sex with other people, until I manage to get pregnant-“

“-Not exactly an issue for me, I haven’t been with anyone since Alys-” muttered Aemond.

“Me either, I’ve not been with anyone since Jace” uttered Y.N.

Aemond grimaced at the mention of his nephew’s name, if he didn’t hate Jace before he certainly did when he started dating Y.N.

It drove Aemond insane having to listen to that bastard fucking Y.N, he spent many nights wishing it was him instead of Jace.

Not even the woman he brought back and fucked into the mattress could sway his mind away from Y.N, they’d met at university and became friends after an unfortunate incident which led Y.N tripping over and accidently throwing coffee all over him.

He normally would have raged at the stupidity of it all, but the moment he finished wiping himself off and saw those blue eyes he was done for.

Her sweet soft voice apologising to him profusely, but he wasn’t listening he just couldn’t stop staring at the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

Looking back, he should have obeyed his first instinct and asked her out on a date, but he feared that she would reject him, as most women usually did due to the huge scar marring his face, so he settled for friendship instead and never thought to move beyond that boundary even though he wanted to, as the years went by and their friendship grew, he now feared that he would lose Y.N as a friend if he ever dared to reveal his feelings, so he kept them hidden.

He'd rather have Y.N as a friend than not have her at all.

They moved in together after university, she became part of his family, and it was like she’d always been there. His mother loved her, his father never really paid much attention to anyone or anything unless it was about his firstborn child, his darling Rhaenyra who could do no wrong, Aegon the man whore of course tried it on with her, but she quickly rebuffed him, which made Aemond love her even more, Helaena took to her immediately which was nice as it was hard for his sweet sister to make friends, and Daeron liked her too.

Everything was perfect, except it wasn’t because he wanted her, and he was too afraid to tell her.

Even getting involved with other women was an issue as he would always end up comparing them to Y.N and they would never last long, until Alys.

She was older than him, and Aemond liked that. At first things were great between them, he fell in love with her, and he felt for the first time that he could move on from Y.N but the mask slipped, and Alys began to show her true colours. Aemond would like to say he got out of that shit as soon as it started but he didn’t, he was a fool blinded by love and his cock and it wasn’t until his sister and Y.N joined forces to make him see sense, that he was finally able to escape the praying mantis that was Alys.

As always Y.N was there helping him through it, supporting him and providing words of comfort until she brought that twat of his nephew home. It turned out that whilst he was with Alys, Y.N had started something up with Jace.

Dalton, Jason and Cregan were bad enough but Jace, gods above it rankled Aemond to no end to have to see that bastard sauntering around his apartment.

More than once he found his hands drifting towards the knives, just one slip that’s all it would take. But then he’d most likely get done for murder and it wasn’t worth the hassle.

So, Aemond had to resign himself to misery every time Y.N was with Jace, but as always it didn’t last long and it pleased Aemond no end when Jace was given the boot.

Like him, Y.N could never find anyone to settle down with and she eventually gave up.

But there was a sadness in Y.N, and Aemond knew she wanted so desperately to be married and have a family as she didn’t have anything to do with her own and as much as Aemond would fold to the ground quicker than a deck of cards if he ever thought he could get away with asking her to marry him, agreeing to father her child was the next best thing.

And that’s how Aemond found himself a week after he’d made his offer, masturbating in the bathroom.

He was no stranger to self-pleasure, he’d fucked his fist many times to the thought of Y.N, but doing it like this felt weird, he would never admit it, but it did take longer than usual to rouse himself, perhaps it was because it wasn’t something that occurred naturally, Normally he’d wake up with his cock hard and throbbing other times it would happen if he saw Y.N in her short p.js or those damn lycra leggings she was fond of wearing whenever she worked out.

One time her nearly blew his load when he saw her emerge from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel, the water droplets still clinging to her-

“SHIT” moaned Aemond, as the need for release quickly shot across his abdomen.

Where was it? that damn pot thingy she gave him. He had to put his seed in there, and then he would hand it to her, and she would disappear off to her bedroom and put his seed inside herself-

“FUUUCCCCKK” roared Aemond only just managing to position the pot to catch his seed in time.

It seemed to go on forever, the jolt of pleasure running through him as he cock pulsed and released endless ropes of seed.

After he washed his hands and cleaned himself up, Aemond took hold of the pot and left the bathroom, Y.N was sitting on the sofa with her earphones in.

“Thank the fuck christ for that” muttered Aemond, his cheeks tinged pink at the thought of Y.N listening to him masturbate, although the thought did make his cock stir in his sweatpants.

“Aemond-is everything ok?” asked Y.N as she pulled out her earphones.

“It’s fine-I guess I should give you this” replied Aemond as he handed her the pot.

“Yes-thank you. I-I’ll be back in a moment,” said Y.N as she quickly disappeared into her bedroom.

Not knowing exactly what to do with himself, Aemond sat on the sofa and thumbed through one of the magazines on the coffee table.

“Tips for women: how to bag your secret crush-what a crock of shit” Aemond as he threw the magazine in the bin.

A few minutes later Y.N emerged from her bedroom, carrying the empty pot in her hand, the knowledge that his seed was now inside her made his cock respond in earnest.

Fuck-he needed to get to his bedroom and fast.

“Is everything ok?” asked Y.N a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

“F-fine, I just need to go to my room. I forgot my phone. Waiting for a work call” exclaimed Aemond as he darted out the room.

The irritated voice of Y.N carrying through the flat when she saw the magazine in the bin.

“Hey-I was reading that”.

As the days stretched into weeks and the weeks into months, Y.N and Aemond embarked on the process of conceiving a child with optimism and excitement.

However, as time passed without any signs of success, their initial enthusiasm gave way to frustration and disappointment. Month after month, they meticulously tracked Y.N's cycle, timed their efforts with precision, and yet, each negative pregnancy test felt like a crushing blow.

One evening, as they sat together in the dim glow of their apartment, the weight of their unspoken fears hung heavy in the air. Y.N's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she voiced the thoughts that had been haunting her for weeks.

"Aemond, what if there's something wrong with me?" she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse murmur.

Aemond's heart clenched at the pain in Y.N's voice, his own fears mirroring hers. "Y.N, don't say that" he replied, his voice laced with emotion. "There's nothing wrong with you. We just-haven't been lucky yet, that's all."

But Y.N couldn't shake the nagging doubt that gnawed at her heart. She couldn't help but wonder if her body was somehow failing her if she was somehow unworthy of the gift of motherhood.

"I know we've only been trying for a few months, but-what if it never happens?" Y.N's voice trembled with the weight of her insecurities.

Aemond reached out, gently cupping Y.N's face in his hands, his eyes filled with reassurance. "Y.N, listen to me. We're in this together, okay? Whatever happens, we'll face it together. And if we need to seek help, then we'll do it. But we're not giving up, not now, not ever."

"Guys, I don't know what to do," Aemond admitted, his voice tinged with concern. "Y.N and I have been trying for months, and-nothing. Not even a hint of a positive test."

Aegon leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, maybe you're going about it the wrong way," he teased, earning a sceptical glance from Daeron. "Perhaps you should try it the natural way."

Aemond's cheeks flushed crimson at Aegon's suggestion, his embarrassment evident. "Aegon, come on. This is serious," he protested, though a small part of him couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's audacity.

Daeron rolled his eyes, shaking his head in amusement. "Aegon, sometimes I wonder if you have any sense of decorum," he remarked dryly, though a smirk played at the corners of his lips.

“Or maybe little brother’s just insecure that he’s shooting blanks, what are you nearly thirty and not one accident-with anyone” laughed Aegon as he took a swig of beer.

“Just because you’ve got fuck knows how many kids to god knows how many different women, doesn’t mean were all like that, I’ve never fucked a women raw, I always used protection” replied Aemond.

“Your not still pissed I offered her my load are you-I was only joking, well kind of-“

“-Aegon seriously. I hate it when you talk like that. Grow up” snapped Daeron.

“Ooo hark at Mr prim and proper over here, anyone would think you had a thing for Y.N”.

“No-as lovely as Y.N is she’s not my type,” said Daeron.

“What is your type?” asked Aegon.

“Men-“ said Aemond firmly.

“-I thought you liked women?” quipped Aegon.

“I’m pansexual-I’m attracted to whoever regardless of their gender or how they identify”.

“Isn’t that what Helaena is?” mused Aegon.

“No, she’s asexual, which means no sexual attraction to others” said Aemond.

“So, hang on, if your attracted to anyone, then why isn’t Y.N your type?” asked Aegon.

“Because she’s my friend and I don’t think of her in that way-“ retorted Daeron.

“Unlike captain slow over here, dude is down so bad he literally offers to father his best friends child” snarked Aegon.

“You should really tell her Aemond-“

“-What? And ruin the friendship, I can’t do that. I can’t lose what we have” replied Aemond downing his glass of whisky and grimacing at the afterburn.

“Have you not considered that she might feel the way?” asked Daeron.

“What? No” muttered Aemond.

“Look listen to your big brother-go home and suggest that you try making the baby the natural way, all this methodically planned shit is clearly causing stress, which isn’t good for either of you-so maybe fucking each other and having an orgasm or two may help”.

“What if she says no” mused Aemond.

“If she does then we’ve always got a spare room for you-“

“-Not fucking funny” snapped Aemond.

“Just make the suggestion-let her make the choice,” said Daeron.

“Ok-but if she says no then expect another roommate” muttered Aemond.

Aemond took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he was about to have with Y.N. As they sat together in the quiet comfort of their apartment, the weight of their unspoken desires hung heavy in the air.

"Y.N, I've been thinking," Aemond began, his voice tentative yet resolute. "Maybe-maybe we've been going about this the wrong way. Maybe instead of focusing so much on timing and tracking, we should-try things more naturally."

Y.N's brow furrowed in confusion, her eyes searching Aemond's face for clarity. "What do you mean, Aemond?"

Aemond hesitated, unsure of how to articulate the swirling emotions that churned within him. "I mean-maybe we could try having sex with each other”

Y.N's breath caught in her throat at Aemond's words, her heart pounding with a mixture of longing and apprehension. She had spent countless nights secretly yearning for Aemond, yet the fear of ruining their friendship had kept her from confessing her true feelings.

"Aemond, I-I don't want to risk our friendship," Y.N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if-what if this changes everything between us?"

Aemond reached out, gently taking Y.N's hand in his own, his gaze soft yet determined. "Y.N, our friendship means everything to me and if you decide that we should just continue trying as we have been then I will respect your decision”.

Y.N sat quiet for a moment as she thought about what Aemond had suggested, clearly what they were already doing wasn’t working but maybe this could.

Gods she had been in love with Aemond ever since she’d tripped and thrown her coffee all over him. Features so sharp it looked like he’d been carved by the gods themselves, his singular eye was a shade of blue that she had never seen before, he was so beautiful. Initially his face had been twisted in anger and annoyance but then it softened and relaxed.

Admittedly she was left feeling disappointed that he’d not asked her out, and her shyness prevented her from asking him, so she settled for the friendship that blossomed between them.

Having no family of her own, she became part of his and it was truly wonderful. His mother Alicent, wow her curly auburn hair was incredible was quite nice, his father was disinterested and looked like he could play an extra from night of the living dead, his older brother Aegon had more kids than she had hot dinners was a bit of a cheeky chancer but nothing she couldn’t handle, his sister Helaena was sweet and whimsical in a way that warmed her heart and Daeron he was sensible and funny.

But she was a coward, too scared to tell Aemond how she felt, the possibility of ruining their friendship was heartbreaking but it was also the potential loss of his family that added to her reluctance.

Being alone for along time, you think you’re ok with it, just going through the motions but once you experience that closeness you truly realise how alone you are, and it saddened her deeply.

Aemond didn’t seem interested in her in that way, judging from all the women he fucked, at first, she tried to ignore it but then she thought why not take a leaf out of his book and get involved with someone.

Admittedly though giving her virginity to Dalton Greyjoy was a mistake, he barely lasted and to get through it she had to fantasise about Aemond, then there was Jason Lannister, he was a bit better but still a selfish prick.

Cregan Stark was a very giving lover, he never left her wanting, the only problem was that he wasn’t Aemond, and inevitably the relationship didn’t last long.

Then Aemond met her. Alys fucking Rivers. You’d think older would mean more mature, but no she was about as mature as the cheese you would find in the fridge, the blue veiny kind that smelled like feet.

It broke her heart to see Aemond so happy, but there wasn’t much she could do, and she would often escape their apartment whenever Alys was around and cry on Helaena’s shoulder.

Aemond’s sweet sister knew of her feelings for Aemond and often provided a welcome distraction from the disgusting display Alys would often make as she draped herself all over Aemond every chance she got, and their friendship wasn’t as close when she was around.

But then things started to go wrong, and Alys revealed her true self. The lies, the emotional and verbal abuse, even the cheating. But Aemond kept going back to her, time and time again, until one day she and Helaena took it upon themselves to sort that bitch out.

Helaena was the one who talked sense into Aemond and Y.N took great pleasure in giving her a good slap before throwing her out of the apartment.

Things seemed back to normal after that, until Y.N had to tell Aemond that she was involved with his nephew Jace.

If Aemond could have gritted his teeth any harder then he would have broken his jaw, the thing with Jace had initially started when Aemond was dating Alys, and Y.N understood that there maybe issues given that it was Jace’s younger brother Luke who cost Aemond his eye when they were children, but she was lonely and just needed a distraction from her feelings.

Although his posture and hair cut were atrocious, Jace was nice enough, but once again she kept comparing him to Aemond and then began to feel weird about Jace being his nephew and eventually it came to an end.

After one dating disaster after another, Y.N resigned herself to being single forever. Which saddened her deeply, she wanted to get married she wanted children. So, one day she decided why not be a mother, she had a steady job and enough savings, that maybe she could do it on her own. People used sperm banks all the time, so why couldn’t she.

Helaena was supportive and suggested asking someone she knew first, admittedly asking Aegon was a mistake, but it was a request made out of the fact that not only did she know Aegon but due to all his children, she knew his soldiers were marching, it was just the idea of tying herself to him as so many others had done which changed her mind.

So, sperm bank it was, at least they did the necessary checks, but in the end, she had no need for it as Aemond offered to father her child.

As surprising as it was, she was not opposed to the idea. Aemond was after all her best friend and she trusted him beyond all measure, so she accepted his offer.

Explaining the mechanics of the offer to Aemond had been mortifying, especially when she presented him with the pot, he would put his seed in.

Listening to him masturbate in the bathroom though had been a treat, his groans of frustration filtered through the apartment and if Y.N was brave she would have offered to help him, but she was a coward, so she put her earphones in, not like that helped much as the noise he made when he came, made her stomach flutter and her core clench.

When he handed her the pot, his cheeks were tinged pink and fuck he was still hard, she could see the outline of his cock through his sweatpants.

She excused herself, went to her room and did what she needed to do, when she emerged Aemond was hovering in the living room, his eye blown wide and his cheeks red.

Fuck his cock was straining hard against the fabric of his sweatpants, Y.N couldn’t help but move closer to him, but when she asked if he was ok, he seem startled and raced off to his room, going on about his mobile.

“Ok-now where is my-“ muttered Y.N as she looked for her magazine, only to see it in the bin. That fucker had thrown it away.

Over the next few weeks, they continued with their arrangement, but it wasn’t working. No pregnancy ever materialized, and she began to feel like there was something wrong with her, but Aemond supported her and promised that they weren’t going to give up.

She never imagined not giving up would result in him suggesting they try to conceive a child by having sex, but here they were in the living room with the weight of his suggestion hanging in the air.

Of course, it did make sense, but she was worried about it changing their friendship, and not only that she didn’t want to lose his family that taken her in as one of their own.

He said she could turn him down, that it was her choice to make, and it made her heart flutter. She could say no, she probably should say no but the only words that left her mouth was acceptance.

“Ok-let’s have sex” said Y.N.

Aemond had thought all his Christmases had come at once when Y.N took his hand and led him to her bedroom.

“Are you sure about this?” asked Aemond as he closed the door.

“I’m sure-now fuck a baby into me” replied Y.N as she pressed forward and claimed his lips with her own.

The kiss was filthy, it was depraved, and it was fucking amazing. Aemond couldn’t help the small groan that escaped his tips as Y.N’s tongue slid against his.

This was everything he’d ever wanted, and fuck she tasted divine.

Aemond slowly moved his hands down Y.N’s body before roughly grasping her ass and hauling her up against the door.

Y.N whimpered, gripping at Aemond’s shoulders as he slotted himself between her legs, his tongue still invading her mouth.

Aemond pressed himself against the apex of Y.N’s thighs, and he growls like an animal when she reaches down and palms his hard cock over his sweatpants.

“Fuck-“ groans Aemond as he began to grind his clothed cock against her.

“Someone’s eager” whispered Y.N as she flicked her tongue against the corner of Aemond’s mouth.

“Oh, sweet girl you have no idea” quipped Aemond as she spun her off the door and carried her to her bed.

Soon their clothes are abandoned in a haphazard heap on the floor and Aemond was laid between Y.N open legs moving his fingers through her dripping folds as he expertly devoured her with his mouth, his nose bumping against her pearl as fucked her with his tongue.

Gods, she tasted delicious here too. Obviously, this wasn’t required to make a baby but he couldn’t help himself, he needed her wet and wanting.

Aemond loved performing oral sex on women, something his past partners never complained about, but nothing compared to Y.N she was delicious in a way he’d never tasted before.

“Fuck,” squeaks Y.N as she grasps at the back of Aemond’s head, her fingers digging into his hair, holding him in place.

“You’re quite sensitive. Are you going to come already?” asked Aemond smugly.

Aemond alternates between using his fingers and tongue to bring Y.N to her peak.

Y.N arches her back as she comes, Aemond gently sucks on her pearl as she rides out the euphoria of her peak.

“Is that you done baby, or do you want more?” asked Aemond playfully, his chin shining with her slick.

“M-More, please” gasps Y.N as Aemond reaches forward and presses a singular kiss to her pearl before he quickly wipes his chin with his hand.

Aemond smirks as he removes his boxers, his hard cock slapping up against his abdomen,

Y.N looks at Aemond and her eyes widen, he was bigger than anyone she’d been with previously significantly so, his cock hard and heavy, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

“Don’t worry little bird-it will fit” whispered Aemond as he presses his lips against Y.N’s in a heated kiss.

Aemond takes himself in his hand and guides his hard cock to Y.N entrance, pushing in slowly and pausing to give her a moment to adapt to his size.

After pressing a gentle kiss to Y.N’s lips, Aemond pulls out slowly and slides back in, his pace gentle and steady.

“Harder-faster, please daddy I can take it” exclaimed Y.N.

Aemond lets out a pleased grunt and slams into Y.N hard, smiling as she lets out a yelp of surprise.

The pace he sets is brutal, his hips slapping against hers, all the pent up frustration of wanting her pouring out of him.

Y.N moans desperately, as she moves her hips to meet his, attempting to allow his cock to reach deeper within her.

Aemond gets the hint, and quickly lifts Y.N’s legs over his shoulders, using the new angle to drive his cock even deeper than before.

“Tell me how it feels” demands Aemond.

“It’s good, so good-yes-yes you feel so good”

Y.N praises sets something off inside Aemond as he continues to pound into her, the headboard banging against the wall from the force of his movements.

“Aemond, please, I’m close” whimpers Y.N.

Aemond moves a hand down to where the two of them are joined, and rubs Y.N’s pearl in quick circles, dragging her closer the edge of the precipice.

“I never want to leave this sweet pussy–fuck,” groans Aemond as he marks each of his words in tandem with a rough snap of his hips.

Y.N come with a loud, scream, her body shaking underneath Aemond’s as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“J-Just a little longer-fuck” groans Aemond as he slams into Y.N three more times before reaching his own peak, spilling rope after rope of seed inside her.

After a few moments, Aemond gently moves Y.N’s legs from his shoulders, his chest heaving with every breath he takes.

“I-I wasn’t too rough, was I?” asked Aemond.

“No. I-It was wonderful” exclaimed Y.N, her body shaking slightly.

Aemond smirks as he slowly removes his softened cock from her slick cunt, his singular eye fixated on the drops of seed that spill out.

He takes a finger to Y.N’s opening and pushes his seed back inside, delighting in her moan of surprise.

“Can’t be wasting it now can we” whispered Aemond as he laid down on the bed and pulled Y.N to him.

“I guess not” replied Y.N her eyes closed as she smiled slightly.

“Not tired, are you?” asked Aemond curiously as Y.N laid her head on his chest and began running her fingers through the sparse hair that graced his chest.

Y.N looked at him and smiled as she shook her head.

“Good, because I plan to fill you with my seed many times this night-”.

Over the next few weeks, Aemond and Y.N spent many nights entwined in bed, sometimes they didn’t even make it to the bedroom.

Aemond had practically taken her on every available surface in their apartment, he was unrestrained and ravenous.

Never had Y.N experienced such pleasure, that it often left her unable to walk straight, something that Aegon liked to tease her about quite frequently.

But a swift dig to the ribs would often sort him out and wipe that cheeky grin off his face.

Whilst all the sex with Aemond was enjoyable there was a purpose behind it and Y.N was on pins the day her period was due, but it never came, nor did it arrive the next day or the day after that.

Not wanting to get her hopes up too much, Y.N made an appointment with the Drs and anxiously waited for the news.

Later that day Y.N's heart raced with anticipation as she stepped through the door of their apartment.

"Aemond!" she called out, her voice trembling with excitement as she searched for him. "Aemond, where are you?"

Aemond emerged from the living room, a curious expression on his face as he caught sight of Y.N's radiant smile. "Y.N, what's going on?”

Y.N's smile widened as she held out a piece of paper, her hands trembling with excitement. "Aemond, I went to the doctor today- and guess what? We're going to have a baby!"

Aemond's eye widened in disbelief as he took in Y.N's words, the reality of her announcement sinking in. "Y.N, are you serious?" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with awe and wonder.

Y.N nodded eagerly, tears of joy shimmering in her eyes. "Yes, Aemond, I'm serious! The doctor confirmed it-we're going to be parents!"

Aemond's heart swelled with overwhelming emotion as he pulled Y.N into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. "Y.N, this is incredible," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I can't believe it-we're going to have a baby."

But then out of the corner of her eye, Y.N noticed a figure sitting on their couch.

"Alys-what are you doing here?" Y.N managed to choke out, her voice trembling with a mixture of confusion and apprehension.

Alys looked up, her expression a mix of surprise and discomfort. "I... I came to see Aemond," she replied, her voice faltering slightly. "I didn't realize you would be here."

“I live here” retorted Y.N her voice dripping with venom.

"Did I hear you say that you were pregnant?” asked Alys.

“Yes, you did, Aemond is the father-“ said Y.N through gritted teeth.

“I-I didn't know you and Aemond were-together," Alys finally stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y.N felt a lump form in her throat as Aemond's response echoed in her ears. "We're not together," he said simply, his words like a dagger to her heart.

The realization hit Y.N like a tidal wave, washing over her with a force she could scarcely comprehend. In that moment, the truth of their relationship – or lack thereof – crashed down upon her, leaving her feeling lost and alone.

Tears welled up in Y.N's eyes as she struggled to make sense of it all. The joy of her pregnancy announcement now tainted by the crushing weight of rejection.

Aemond's heart clenched with anguish as he watched the devastation wash over Y.N's face. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the hurt he had unwittingly caused.

"Y.N, I'm so sorry," Aemond began, his voice laced with regret as he reached out to her. But before he could utter another word, Y.N pulled away, her eyes brimming with tears as she fled to her bedroom, the sound of her sobs echoing in the empty space.

TBC

[redlittlefoxari]

Astarion Epilogue An Adventure in Making Life: Chapter Nine: Secrets Don’t Make Friends

Relationship: Astarion X Tav

Warnings: NSFW 18+, smut, blood, violence, sex, blood drinking, pregnancy.

Summary: Karlach barges in on Tav while she's about ready to come down for dinner. Spotting a Fully naked, and pregnant Tav.

Master List

People who wished to be tagged: @ofmyth-andmagicart @lunaredgrave

If you want to be tagged in future updates send me a message

12 weeks pregnant

Karlach’s eyes moved from your small baby bump to your face and back to the bump. There were so many emotions on her face, warring for control, the most prominent ones being hurt, confusion, anger, and happiness. They all tore across her face, and seeing her in this state broke your heart.

“What the fuck is going on.” Karlach walked further into the room, raising her voice as she did. “I thought you said that it was hard for elves to get pregnant? All that on the road earlier, and here you are, Pregnant.”

You quickly picked up a towel to cover yourself. “Keep it down.” You hushed her. “I know this looks bad, but let me explain.”

“Keep it down? Keep it down!?” You hushed her again. “You better get to explaining why didn’t you tell us? Does Astarion even know?”

“Oh, he knows…” You walked over to the bed where your clothes were laid out and sat down.

“So what, the two of you decided to have a child and found a sperm donor or something?” She waited for you to reply.

“No, it’s his child one hundred percent. Long story short, if a vampire has had enough blood and is sated, they can produce children.” You placed your hand on your stomach. “And if everything alines with elves, we can produce children, so one night about twelve weeks ago, Astarion had enough blood, and an elven soul was looking to be reincarnated. So now I am pregnant with a half-vampire baby.”

Karlach’s jaw hung open in surprise. “So why didn’t you tell us? That's amazing; we should be celebrating!”

Karlach closed the distance between the two of you, taking a seat on the bed next to you. She was a good foot and a half taller than you, so her tower form loomed over you a bit as she waited to hear why you and Astarion felt the need to keep this from them.

“I was scared.” You looked down at the floor. “Elven pregnancies are already high risk. and you mix that was a Vampire where we don’t have a whole lot of information… I don’t know.”

“But you're okay now… aren’t you? You’re so far along now; wouldn’t it be okay to tell us.” Her voice was low, an attribute that you didn’t see often in her.

“I don’t know. I’m still scared something could go wrong.” You could feel tears in your eyes starting to form. “What if I tell you all, Put it out into the universe, and something bad happens… what if I lose them and have to tell you all that they're gone…. I have to go through the loss of telling you over and over again.”

There it was, the fear that you kept to yourself. Not even Astarion knew why you were so adamant about keeping it a secret till you hit fourteen weeks. You just kept telling him you didn’t want to overshadow Gale’s celebration, but the truth was you feared that once you celebrated with friends, some cruel god would take the baby away from you.

You remember stories your mother had told you growing up that she herself had suffered three miscarriages until she finally conceived you. She had kept you secret until she couldn’t anymore, and that was well into her second trimester. It was just something that elves feared since it was a rare gift to have children, and most elves never got the chance to experience it. With the added factor of the baby being Astarion’s, your fears skyrocketed.

“Hey.” Karlach placed her hand on yours; it was warm, whereas yours was cold, the water on your skin making it hard to get warm.

You looked up at Karlach, her smile reaching her eyes, which also had tears in them.

“If any god even thinks of doing that, I’ll go to whatever plane they're on and kill them myself.” You let out a small laugh at her declaration. “I get why you did it… Gods, so when that arrow hit you… the two of your reactions make sense now.”

“We were terrified that we lost them…” The thought sent a jolt of fear to your heart. “I don’t know what I would have done if Astarion didn’t hear the heartbeat.”

“The little guy has a heartbeat…” Karlach stared at you in wonder. “Gods, that’s amazing…. You're amazing. May I?”

She gestured to your stomach, and you nodded. Her warm hand slipped beneath the towel to touch the swell of your bare belly. She wouldn’t feel anything, nor would Karlach be able to hear the heartbeat, but it felt nice having her be a part of the secret and her support. It also didn’t hurt that you were freezing, and she was nice and warm.

“You won’t be able to feel them kicking for a while, not till the third trimester.” You smiled at Karlach’s wonder.

“I just can’t believe that there is a child growing in there. What do you suppose it’s going to be? Boy or Girl?”

“I’m not sure. There is no way to tell short of asking a divination wizard, but I don’t want to know… I like to be surprised.” The thought of a boy scared you, though. You knew nothing about being a boy, and the idea of Astarion teaching them all his ways of being mischievous was scary.

“They are going to be beautiful judging by who their parents are.” Karlach pulled her hand away. “I understand why you kept this a secret, but why not tell us now? We’ll all help you keep this little one safe. Auntie K will be its number one bodyguard.” Karlach puffed out her chest.

“You are right, I suppose I should let you all in on the secret now since you know.” You reached for the white dress that would show off your bump and hesitated.

“I know you’re scared, but you got this. Astarion would never let anything happen to you or the baby.”

“I know. I just don’t want to mess anything up… He hasn’t really had a family. At least not one that he remembers.” You grab the fabric and bunch it up on your lap. “He doesn’t remember his mother and father. the family Cazador made was not even close to something that resembled a family; he just beat them and used them as slaves.” The thought burned white hot in your mind as you thought about everything that monster put him through.

“But now he has you.” Karlach’s voice was comforting. “And the baby.”

“And if something happens and I lose the baby, It’s like I’m taking another thing away from him.”

“You wouldn’t be taking anything away from me.” Astarion said in a quiet tone.

The two of you jumped as you turned to see Asatrion at the door, leaning on the door frame. He pushed off of the frame using his shoulder and entered the room, stopping just a few feet from where you and Karlach were seated on the bed.

“Karlach, would you give me and my fiancee some privacy? I need to remind her of something important.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke.

“Fiancee?” She looked at you.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that part too… sorry.” You didn’t look away from Astarion.

“We’ll you told me most of it.” She stood up and walked past Asatrion, reaching the door and pausing. “I won’t tell anyone… that’s for you to decide when and where you want to do so.”

She shot you one last smile and walked out, closing the door behind her as she did. The two of you stared at each other for several moments. You spoke first, not wanting to be in silence any longer.

“Were you listening the whole time?”

“Yes, When I noticed Karlach was gone, I hurried up her to get her before she got to you, but I was a few minutes too late.” He took a seat next to you. “Now, what is this about you keeping the baby a secret because you don’t want to take another family away from me?”

“It’s more than just that. So many things can go wrong, and if they do, I’ll be responsible for taking another family from you.” You spoke, and Astarion laughed. “How's that funny?”

“Because that is a silly thing to think and say, my love.” He cupped your face with his hands. “Karlach was right. I would not let that happen.”

“You can’t know that We attract bad. luck everywhere we go, pretty much. You’ve already lost so much of the family before you were a Vampire… the one when you were.”

“That one wasn’t a family. Cazador made us to be his slaves to make a small man feel big.” He scoffed. “The rats and bugs that often crawled around me were more family than he ever was. As for my family, before I was a vampire, I don’t remember them, so I have no comment on how they treated me.” He kissed your lips gently. “You and our child growing inside of you are my family, and there is nothing anyone will do to take that away from me. I would rip whoever apart if they tried.”

“So you think we should just tell everyone?”

“I think it is time to stop being so scared, darling, and start living; you are not your mother and are far past the point of losing this child. For gods sake, you got shot in the stomach, and our child shrugged it off like it was nothing. They are far stronger than you give them credit for.”

His statement makes you laugh. “You are right; they are. Just like their father.”

“Don’t forget their mother, too. How many arrows have I pulled out of you these past fifty years? Probably hundreds. The sacred tissue alone was probably enough to keep our child safe.” The two of you laughed lightly.

“What if we lose them?”

“Darling, it was a miracle that we conceived this baby, to begin with, so there must be a god out there that wants us to grace this realm with our beautiful child.” He kissed between your brows.

“I didn’t think of that…” You were beginning to feel foolish. Pregnancy brain, along with the fears your mother placed in you all those years ago, probably didn’t help you think clearly. “Next time, just hit me over the head when I’m not thinking clearly. “

“Will do, but it’s not entirely your fault. The standard practice for elves to keep this sort of thing a secret is kinda hammered into you.” He stood up and walked over to his bag. “Now, if we announce that we are going to be parents, I want to be a little more dressed up than this.” He gestured to what he was wearing. A white flowy shirt and standard black pants he always wore.

Asatrion reached into his bag and pulled out a red embroidered top. Gold was sewn into the top in a pattern that looked like dragons fighting amongst fire. It was gody and over the top and something that screamed for others' attention.

“Do you have anything else?” You also stood, dropping the towel from around you, and stepped into the white dress you were holding.

“What’s wrong with this?” He looked offended.

“It makes you look less like soon-to-be father and more like douchy Vampire lord.” You turned towards him, doing a twirl. “Something subtle like this, maybe?”

“Fine, I’ll wear my dark blue doublet.” He put the gody monstrosity back and pulled out a blue doublet with gold stars sewn into the fabric. He put the doublet on and huffed at you. “Happy?”

“Very.” You wove your arm into his so that the crook of your elbow was touching his. “Now, let's go; our child is telling me it's time to eat, and we don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Of course not, the others certainly, but not our child.” Asatrion said as he smiled down at you.

The dress put you on full display. Your once smaller breasts were accented by a low neckline that plunged down past the bottom of your breasts. The fabric was smooth over your belly and showed the bump of where your child sat in the safety of your stomach. And a long slit just the length of your dress where you could feel the coolness of the tower.

“I’m never wearing pants again.” You said, reveling in how you felt free and not constricted by any waistband.

“And I told you that I’m fine with that it makes it easier to have you whenever I would like; all I would need to do is bend you over and pull up your skirts.” Asatrion leaned down and bit your ear.

You shuddered. “I don’t think we have time to test that… Our baby needs substance.”

“Of course, But after we are fed, I’m going to eat you alive.” He growled his statement into your ear.

A wave of heat went through you. Astarion kindling your arousal. “We better eat fast than.”

You began moving to the dining hall. Each step becomes more complicated than the last. You fought with every fiber of your being to go towards the Dining hall wearing this dress. To tell your friends that secret that the two of you had been keeping all this time. The questions that they would surely ask. You stood at the door and hesitated.

“Are you ready?” Astarion looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“I will be once my heart stops beating so damn fast.” You took a few steading breaths and then nodded to him to open the door.

Astarion flung the door open wide, and you watched as everyone stopped their conversations to look at the two of you. From where everyone was sitting, they would not be able to see the bump that was protruding out from your dress. You watched as Karlach was practically buzzing next to Wyll in excitement. She really was trying her hardest not to let your secret out.

The two of you walked forward toward your friends slowly, fear still gripping your heart. Astarion reached with his other hand and patted your arm. “Everything will be fine.”

“What took the two of you so long?” Gale sounded annoyed as he stood from where he was sitting. “I thought when Karlach went up to get you, you would come down, but then she came down and has been acting like that every since.”

You looked towards her to find that she had a hand placed over her lips and looked like she was going to explode.

“I’m sorry, Gale, it’s my fault. I was having some personal issues I needed to work through.” You had reached the head of the table where your friends were sitting.

You unlaced your arm from Astarion’s and made it easier for everyone to see your baby bump. The whole table stared in shock as Astarion pulled out your chair so that you could sit down. You took your seat. and the table was still silent as Astarion also took his next to you.

Astarion looked around at everyone’s faces. “Well, go on, one of you say something. It’s almost as if you’ve never seen an elf pregnant with a Vampire’s child before.” Astarion grabbed a wine glass and took a long sip as the table erupted with questions.

[ladycrocy]

Comfort behind the mask of a Killer

Comfort behind the mask of a Killer

Summary: "Massacre Soldier" Killer has a past. This is just the small story of how a young killer became the pirate we know today. This is an alternate universe that still keeps the setting of one piece. I have also quoted Alexandre Dumas's book "The man in the iron mask" because I thought it fit perfectly.

Warnings: Physical and verbal abuse to a child. Reference to drugs and alcohol. MDNI. VERY SAD.

AO3

Word count: 1784

“I've worn that mask so long I don't feel safe without it.”

― Alexandre Dumas, The Man in the Iron Mask

A boy without a face. What good was his face anyway if it only brought pain to those he thought he loved. Expressions that were just a reminder of crimes that he didn’t commit. This young blonde boy was named with revenge in mind. “Killer” Came into this world with the burden of his mother’s hatred.

His long shaggy blonde hair was unkempt, but that matched the rags that this child was dressed in.  His mother did little to keep him alive. By the age of four, he was already on the streets to steal from garbage cans. Rotten fruits and vegetables were his normal diet. This caused him to suffer from severe malnutrition. 

“A man is held to be criminal,sometimes, by the great ones of the earth,not because he has committed a crime himself but because he knows of one which has been committed.”

― Alexandre Dumas, The Man in the Iron Mask

“KILLER! GET IN HERE, YOU CRETEN!” His mother called out to him. He was never allowed inside. He couldn’t help but feel a little excited that she actually wanted to see him. Despite his whole tiny body aching, he ran inside the shack with such vigor. 

Killer had a large smile on his face to greet his mother. He had yet to really speak yet, but he wished to greet his mother as positively as possible. With what he thought would be a warm embrace or at least a happy greeting, he found only pain.

The small boy was knocked to the ground by the side of a bottle. Blood poured from a fresh wound on his head. Dying his blonde waves pink. “How many times have I told you not to smile around me?! You disgust me! He had the same look when he burdened me with you!”

I’m sorry momma I’m sorry momma! Killer wished he could say to her but his words were not forming. If only he had learned to speak faster, perhaps his mother would know how much he loved her. Maybe he could convince her that he wasn’t his father. 

It was such a curse to look like the man that had forced himself in a fit of laughter on one’s mother. Killer couldn’t have been further from that sperm donor. With a pure heart of gold that kept believing one day, she would love him back.

 “A man is bound to make for himself in this world, that fortune which heaven had refused him at his birth.”

― Alexandre Dumas, The Man in the Iron Mask

February 2nd was the day he found a tattered mask. This was a happy day for Killer. So happy in fact, that he deemed it must have been his birthday. He was unaware of his actual birthday as he had never actually celebrated it. Returning to his mother that night, Killer had brought her what he had stolen. Getting to his knees, he bowed his head to await her approval. It wasn’t much. There was a little food, a half a bottle of cheap wine, and a few unknown pills. His mother didn’t hit him this time. She glared down at him and his ‘mask’. She grabbed the bottle and downed all the pills in one gulp. With her foot, she kicked the food towards him. “I guess even vermin deserves a treat every now and then.”

Killer was elated. His mother had never offered to share, let alone give him all of it. He was so happy that he could cry. It was the mask! It truly was the greatest gift the gods could have given him. Surely now, he and his mother would be able to connect. He would spend the next few days practicing his words. He wished so much to tell his mother that he loved her. 

“Pain, anguish and suffering in human life are always in proportion to the strength with which a man is endowed.”

― Alexandre Dumas, The Man in the Iron Mask

Everyday for months, Killer looked through the window of a school. He was about 10 at this time. At least that is what he assumed by his size. He had only been keeping up with it himself for 5 years. He was now able to speak very little by mimicking what he heard through the window. That is until the school guard would scare him off. Killer didn’t care. He would come back everyday until he could tell his mother that he loved her and that she didn’t have to hate his face anymore. His plan was solid. He continued to bring her the things she liked the most. Any type of liquor he could get a hold of, and pills of any kind. Now that he wore the mask all the time, his mother allowed him to sleep inside the shack. This was really starting to turn around for the small blonde boy. 

To his great joy, he had found a whole bottle of wine in the garbage dump today! This would please her so much. It took nearly the whole day but he was able to find 3 blue pills. He never knew what they were for. He just knew they made his mother happy and sleepy. The blue ones were her favorite. What a wonderful day this would be. 

He rushed home. Swiftly cutting corners through the slums. Killer dug his heels into the mud to stop himself at his own shack. Barreling into the small housing, he fell to his knees. Presenting the bottle and pills. To his horror he realized he didn’t bring her any food. How could he have forgotten something so important. “M-Mot….the…ther�� S-Sor…ry..” He apologized using a voice that was rarely used. This didn’t give him any sympathy or praise or.. Anything. The woman grabbed the bottle and pills just as she had always done. “You should have died at birth, Killer..” Taking the pills she laid down on the floor in the corner next to a single candle. She cradled the bottle and began to sob.

Killer was breathing heavy. His heart breaking in ways his child mind couldn’t comprehend. He wanted to comfort her, but he knew that would only bring him pain. 

So he ran. He ran back to the dump to make up for his horrid mistake. He needed her to see that it was good that he was alive. He would take care of her forever. As long as it took for him to see his dream come true. 

There wasn’t much this time. It had been picked through by the other vagabonds. He was able to find some moldy bread but there was still a lot that was good enough to eat. Maybe this would be enough. Maybe now…

“I am strong against everything, except against the death of those I love. He who dies gains; he who sees others die loses.”

― Alexandre Dumas, The Man in the Iron Mask

The young blonde was frozen as he saw his tiny shack up in flames. He yelled out with a cracked scream. A blood curdling scream that held the pain of 10 years. Killer ran into the small shack. He saw her still in the corner. She hadn’t moved. It was quick thinking, as Killer jumped for her. Just as he did so a piece of the roof came crashing down on his left arm. His screams fell on uncaring ears. He pulled and tugged until he was able to pull it free. 

The shack burned down around his mother as he watched. He was helpless and possibly bleeding to death. He glanced down at his arm. It was burned and mangled. Just like his heart. Thank the gods for this mask.. No one can see his tears. 

“A man is bound to make for himself in this world, that fortune which heaven had refused him at his birth.”

― Alexandre Dumas, The Man in the Iron Mask

Two years later, Killer had roamed around the East blue. Sneaking onto boats to get to one place or the next. He landed on an island that was outside the world government. Not very notable, but a place where a homeless 12 year old could find work. Or scraps. 

One day he was in the scrap yard, looking for something to sell. “AHHAA! I DID IT!” Killer heard the voice of another child. He peeked over the piles to see a red headed boy laughing. He was standing proudly over something he had just created. Killer tilted his head at the strange boy. 

The red head felt that he was being watched and turned to see the blonde. He smiled and motioned for him to come closer. “Hey you! Check this out!” The younger boy seemed so different from any other person Killer had ever met.

After the red head explained his newest creation he finally introduced himself. “AH I forgot! The names Eustass Kid! You can just call me captain because I am gonna be King of the pirates! And I am taking you with me! My first mate… uh… what’s ya name?”

Killer had still not used his voice ever since the day he watched his mother die. It was rough and raspy when he replied. “K-Kil…ler..” He looked down ashamed of his voice, rubbing the side of his mask. 

Kid didn’t skip a beat and smacked the back of Killer’s back. “My first mate Killer! What a badass name! Everyone will fear us!” The 8 year old exclaimed with a hearty laughter. He abruptly stopped and looked at the dented mask that Killer wore. “Hey.. hold on a sec…” Kid then jumped into what looked like a pile of scrap metal. He emerged with a welder looking mask in the air. It would keep his face hidden but give him more room to breathe.

Kid handed it to Killer and turned around. It was odd to see such a wild child to have such respect for 

others. Killer replaced the mask and was happy he was able to see better. More room to breath. 

And with that he took a deep breath in, and exhaled. He looked over to Kid and somehow he just knew that Kid knew he was smiling. “K-King of.. Th-.. the P-Pirates!” Killer exclaimed with his arms in the air. His new captain joined in and let out a mighty roar.

“I hope only that you have been able to find a little gold in the ashes.”― lowell blair, The Vicomte de Bragelonne

Thanks for reading! This fanfic was really inspired by my talks with @lxshoxk

[soul-rillo]

The hazbintots have infiltrated my brain, so here's a little ficlet of the origins of the tots and Lucifer's unfortunate wish. Enjoy and thanks to Rillo for betaing this!

The Beginning

Lucifer stared up at Hell’s night sky. It was bereft of stars as always. One final punishment from Heaven pushed down on Lucifer. The lightbringer couldn’t even see his own creations in the sky, cut off from the light, from the stars. Instead, there was an inescapable black void that loomed overhead in the night and blood that painted the sky in the day marked by a pentagram that barred them all into their collective prison. 

But tonight? Tonight was different. It was a miraculous event, a once in a millennium event that even Lucifer, in all his years, had only seen a dozen or so times. A night when the heavenly, earthly, and hellish realms aligned just so, and the dying stars would share their light with the universe one final time.  

The last time he’d watched the stars fall in hell, Lillth had been by his side; singing a soft requiem as she charmed the nobility and regular hellborn alike. She had always been more graceful than him, more suited to ruling. Why did she leave him? 

His heart twinged painfully in his chest, and he slapped his cheeks with both of his hands. Focus! Now was not the time to get lost in his head. He had a job to do! 

He let out a sigh as he adjusted his bow tie. Charlie had trusted him with this as a way to get more donors for her hotel, so here he was at the largest party he’d been to in centuries surrounded by mobs of hellborn and demons he didn’t recognize. 

Lucifer stepped to the side and plucked a flute of champagne off of a passing imp waiter and swallowed it quickly, hoping it would relieve some of his nerves. He was the King of Hell so he was expected to give the address to the festival; the nobility of Hell expected it, and while he may have blown off his duties as the ruler of Pride for the last century or so, he wouldn’t blow off a request from Charlie. 

He shuddered. If Ozzie found out he was separated from Lilith, he could only imagine the dates the sin of lust would try to set him up on. Thankfully, Ozzie seemed to have found someone of his own to keep him busy recently, and thank all that was unholy for that! 

Lucifer said a few more pleasantries that he hoped weren’t too awkward to the latest batch of Ars Goetia muddled about him. A brave few imps came up to introduce themselves. In every conversation Lucifer did his best to sprinkle in praise for Charlie’s redemption project. He was met with everything from feigned interest to open disdain for sinners. It made him long for a time before he split the pentagram with the other sins. When he could simply order the Ars Goetia about, then Charlie would have all the help she could ask for and Lucifer could stop falling face first into social situations. 

Finally, a blue-tailed owl goetia took center stage. A hush fell over the crowd as he pulled out his grimoire and in an impressive display of magic whipped the acid storm clouds away. 

Lucifer clapped his hands together. “Woow, hoo yeah, what a time everyone! Y’know, I helped to put the stars in the sky and make sure they sparkled. So, uh, enjoy it and everything.” 

With his speech done, Lucifer slunk back to the edge of the party and then flicked his wings out, taking off to the hosts’ mansion roof, where he could finally be alone for the evening. He leaned back against the chimney, waiting for the show to start.  

It started slowly at first—a few shots of light that were blink-and-you’ll-miss it. Then the sky was aglow, filled with flares of all colors, burning bright for mere seconds and then flickering into nothing. It was beautiful, but it couldn't last. How like his father to only have given him a shallow reminder of heaven.  

Not that he was much better. He’d failed Charlie so many times. Cut her off when Lilith left; he missed so many moments. He didn’t even know she had a girlfriend until recently!

“If only…” he murmured to himself, “I could’ve been a better dad to Charlie. She deserved the best. I wish there was a way I could redeem myself, go back, do it right, and be Hell’s greatest dad.” 

The falling stars seemed to brighten at his words and he smiled. At least something in the universe understood him. The party wrapped up as the sky returned to its usual blackness and Lucifer didn’t bother saying goodbye to the hosts or any of the sins as he headed back to the hotel. He hoped Charlie and her friends got a chance to see the stars before they disappeared. He’d heard her gushing about setting up blankets in the grass behind the hotel to watch. It sounded like a lot of fun—more fun than rubbing elbows with hell’s nobility anyway, but Charlie asked him to go and it was the least he could do for her. 

Lucifer swung the door open with a big grin. “Charlie! I’m home! How was your—oh holy mother of shit.” 

In the lobby of the hotel, sat nine toddlers. Nine very familiar looking toddlers. Charlie blinked up at him with her big, adorable eyes from where she was holding her girlfriend's hand (Was that still her girlfriend? Could toddlers even date each other?) She looked exactly like he remembered her at the age of three. 

That was when it dawned on him: the wish he had made earlier without expectation had come true, but in the most roundabout way possible. Lucifer knew that somewhere, up past the pearly gates of Heaven, some sick fuck was laughing at him.

God damn it.

[holylulusworld]

Heavenly creature - Unbreakable Bonds (6)

Summary: A stranger saves you from an unfriendly encounter. Is he a knight in shiny armor?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Princess Shuri

Warnings: heavy angst, language, hurt & comfort, clingy/possessive reader, fluff, dad!Steve

A/N: I usually do not describe my reader’s appearance/race. In this case I had to make an exception as it’s important for the storyline.

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

<< Part 5

Heavenly Creature masterlist

“Soldier, are we done for today?” You hopefully look at Bucky when he walks inside the examination room. Your face falls seeing Steve by his side. “Please?”

“We are almost done for today,” Steve softly says. “Our friend will run a few more tests, okay.”

You reluctantly nod. 

“They mean no harm,” Bucky adds. You visibly relax at his words. “How about we have lunch together? All of us.” He holds out his hand and forces a smile on his face.

“Yes,” you grab his hand and smile widely. “Can we have dessert too? I miss ice cream. I haven’t had some in ages.”

“Why?” Steve asks. “Ice cream is great.”

“They said it’s bad and…” You suck in a breath. The words just slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Sugar is bad…feelings too…”

“Doll,” Bucky wraps his arms around you when you start to cry. “Hey, you can eat as much ice cream as you want to.”

“What if I can’t heal you because I ate sugar? What if you die?” You fist Bucky’s shirt. “I can’t risk losing you. It will be all my fault if you can’t be healed.”

Steve chokes out a sob. He witnessed Hydra’s cruelty more than once. But your broken voice telling them all the things Hydra planted in your young mind when you were a child, is unbearable to him.

“They won’t know, Y/N,” Steve tries once again to get your attention. “Bucky is healthy and strong. If he gets hurt, we can help him at the medic bay. We have doctors, and I can donate blood for him too. I’m a super-soldier, remember?”

“You can?” You lift your head and sniffle. “Is your blood as good as mine? Maybe it’s not as good…”

“Y/N, I’m your father. We share the same blood,” Steve holds back another sob when you reluctantly let go of Bucky to step toward him. “I’m a universal donor too.”

“Oh!” Your smile widens and you grasp Steve’s hand. “You can save my soldier too! Wonderful!”

Steve holds back a sigh. Your whole world seems to revolve around his friend. Since they broke the barrier you built in your mind to protect yourself from remembering your past, you lost interest in anything but Bucky. 

“We should eat now,” Steve murmurs, afraid to scare you off if he speaks any louder. “What do you like?”

“Pasta and ice cream,” you dreamily say. “Maybe we can have chocolate too, and pudding. I love pudding.”

“Hmm…tastes great,” you shovel the pasta in your mouth, ignoring people staring at you and the super-soldiers at your table. “What?” You cock a brow. “It’s good.”

“You should slow down,” Steve whispers, afraid to draw too much attention toward your table. “There is more than enough.”

“It’s delicious and I don’t want you to steal my food,” you pout at Steve before you look at Bucky. “Why don’t you eat, soldier? You need food to stay strong and healthy.”

“I’m good,” Bucky barely touched the food in front of him. On your way to the restaurant, you talked non-stop about your past, and all the things your so-called parents forbid you. Like playing with your dolls or spending time with other kids.

You nod but worry Bucky might be sick. “Are you sick? Do you need me to help you?” You slip off the chair to press the back of your hand to Bucky’s forehead. “No temperature. That’s good. You’re not having a fever then.”

“Y/N,” Steve gets up from his chair to stop you from examining Bucky. “Please eat your food. Bucky is not sick. You need the food more than him.”

“Okay.”

Steve pulls the chair for you, nodding at his friend. “You need to eat something too, Buck. We don’t want Y/N to worry about you. Give her what she needs…”

“I’ll eat, doll,” Bucky lifts the spoon to his mouth. “See. No reason to worry about me all the time.”

You shyly glance at your plate. There is chaos in your mind. A part of you wants to be close to Bucky, and make sure he’s safe. And the little part that’s left of the shy librarian is screaming bloody murder and begs you to run for the hills if you get the chance to do so.

So far, you don’t know which part of your personality will win the war going on inside of you. You’d love it to be the part wanting to be close to Bucky. Because without him, who are you?

Steve shows you around the apartment they prepared at the Avengers’ tower for you. You follow him, barely sparing the furniture and decoration a glance.

“We got most of your things, some books too. If you need anything else, please let me know,” he hopefully looks at you, waiting for your response.

“That’s very kind of you, and Mr. Stark but—” you chew on your lower lip, afraid to anger the super-soldier. “Can I not stay with my soldier?”

“Y/N,” he sighs. “I know something tells you that you must stay close to Bucky, but it’s best if you stay here for a while. You need to time on your own, and to sort your thoughts.”

“I want—” you shake your head. “I need to stay close. Please don’t leave me here all alone with my thoughts. Please.” You grab Steve’s hand, tugging hard. “Please Dad…don’t leave me alone with them…”

“With whom?” he softly asks. “Y/N?”

“The ghosts of my past,” you whimper. “I can hear them in my head now. Mom. Dad. My aunt. The doctors. The men with the guns,” you sniffle. “They are screaming at me. If I’m close to the soldier, they are gone.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Steve wraps you in a hug. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. Bucky hates himself for kidnapping and hurting you. He blames himself for forcing you to remember your past.”

“I hated my life before the soldier found me again. Nightmares and flashbacks aren’t new to me. I just didn’t know why the voices followed me around. At least now I know that I’m not crazy.

“If you want me to, I’ll ask Bucky if it’s okay that you stay with him for tonight.”

“Please.”

Steve wishes you’d seek his closeness. You’re a grown woman, still, Steve feels like he’s holding a newborn child in his arms. Not days ago, he believed he’d never get the chance to become a father, and now he’s holding his child in his arms.  

“We will ask him together. Okay. Don’t worry. Bucky is a good man and will not send you away. Get a few things and I’ll be waiting outside for you.”

Steve steps away to leave the room. He’s still torn between protecting you from his best friend and being happy that you trust Bucky enough to feel safe close to him.

“You’d have been a much better dad,” you murmur as Steve grabs the door handle. “Now I know why they never told me about you.”

“I wish I knew about you, Y/N. I’d have come to your aid and saved you and Bucky.”

“I know.”

“No programming and no manipulation?” Tony huffs. “That’s impossible. It’s like she’s programmed to follow Barnes like a puppy.”

Shuri shakes her head. “You don’t understand. In a way, she got manipulated by Hydra. But – the part of Y/N seeking White Wolf’s closeness is the part that remembers his kindness in times of need. I talked to her for hours and ran all the tests. It’s her, nothing more and nothing less.”

“I don’t—” Tony shakes his head. “How’s that possible?”

“Her vulnerable soul and broken mind tried to find a way to bear all the pain and treatment. Somehow, a bond between these tortured souls formed so many years ago. And I think it’s unbreakable…”

“Sold-“ you stop yourself from pouncing on Bucky. You nervously shuffle from one foot to the other, waiting for Bucky to tell you to get closer. “Bucky.”

“Hi,” Bucky offers a weak smile. “How are you?”

“I…” Dropping your gaze you shrug. “I don’t know, to be honest. I remember everything now. Hydra. You. My parents, who weren’t my parents. My time as a librarian. The soldier protecting me.”

“I remember you now too,” he slowly steps closer and holds out his hand. “Back then I made a promise to you. Do you remember?”

“Yes,” you nod and smile. “You said that no one will ever hurt me again. That you’ll save me and get me away from the bad people.”

“I will keep that promise from now on. I failed you in the past,” he takes your hand to gently hold it, “I won’t fail this time...”

The End...?

Tags in reblog.

[wazzappp]

@rokhal okay so you see heres the problem. You asked too many good questions so I opened a google doc to answer them and then things just got going and then I ended up with an entire summary of the story I have so far.

ALSO thank you @moosemonstrous for helping me puzzle through my fugnking ramblings

Also it is IMPORTANT that you know I had this song on repeat the entire time I was plotting my nefarious schemes

OKAY SO. I’m thinking Robbie is some sort of specialized stealth unit. He was originally designed for high level infiltration but was repurposed by the human resistance in the future. He has skin with a metal endoskeleton just like the usual terminators but he ALSO has those nanobots that allow him to heal at the same pace as a normal human. They also would help with repairing any damage to internal systems like wiring. They could also be what repurposes food to grow his metal endoskeleton. I’m debating on whether he can manually speed that up for an accelerated healing process because that would require a level of control over his machinery that I’m not sure it would make sense for him to have right after figuring out he’s a machine. Maybe with some practice he could do it. OHHHHH OR IF HES IN SOME SORT OF ‘EMERGENCY DEFENSE’ MODE IT ACCELERATES AUTOMATICALLY THAT COULD BE FUN!!! 

Also I really like the idea of him being able to heal with those nanobots but like. SPECIFICALLY for Gabe. They’re programmed to create synthetic flesh and skin but only for certain genomes. His and Gabes are similar enough that they can help repair tissue if he’s injured. Like being a blood donor for matching blood types.

STORY WISE HERE’S WHAT IM THINKING: Eli still exists in this universe and he’s still a massive shithead. Still pushes Mama Reyes down a flight of stairs while pregnant with Gabe (their soon to be first child), still a serial killer and still involved with the mob. But shortly after Gabe is born, Eli is caught and sentenced to prison for life. The mob figures he told his brother’s family so that makes them a liability. They kill Alberto and Julianna, but leave Gabe alone in his crib. This happens when he’s about 6 months old.

While this is happening, Robbie is time traveled into the back yard of their house. He goes inside and puts on whatever clothes he can find. When police show up to check after getting a noise complaint from the neighbors, they find what looks to be a 5 year old boy soothing a crying baby and a massive burned hole in the backyard they think is just some sort of already detonated explosive. Everyone just assumes this kid is his brother and they try to get him out of the house without letting him see his dead ‘parents’. He doesn't talk much but does answer that his name is Robbie when asked. 

Things get REALLY weird when they go to the police station and find… absolutely nothing about him. No birth certificate, no social security number, no history of schooling, not even their notoriously nosy neighbors know anything about him. The Reyes’s had not marked down a dependent on their tax forms until Gabe.  Even when they look at the possibility of him being an undocumented immigrant; NOTHING. Half the guys think he’s an illegal alien that slipped through the cracks of.. EVERY country and the other half think he’s an ACTUAL alien For all intents and purposes the kid in front of them does not exist. Eli isn’t much help when asked, he just assumes ‘that bitch of his turned him against me didn’t even tell me that I had a nephew already here god DAMN her’. 

They quickly start questioning whether they're actually brothers, but genetic tests determine that they are. That, and the absolute INSISTENCE of the boy that ‘This is my brother. I HAVE to keep him safe’.

So they do what just about anyone might do. Decide this weird magically appearing child is someone else’s problem, and put them into foster care. From there the story stays about the same for a while. They know Eli exists but they honestly couldn't give less of a shit about him. That guy is never getting out on parole lmao. Robbie catches up with social development and for the most part fits in pretty good (he never gets sick. Like ever. Never gets so injured he has to go to the doctor for emergencies. Just regular checkups, which he passes through with a few raised eyebrows but still good). He’s still a GENIUS with cars and works at Canelos. He understands them in a way that usually takes years of experience way beyond what Robbie has. Things are going.. Not GREAT but they’re okay. And then AMADEUS FUCKIGN SHOWS UP.

Skynet of the future has sent back a Terminator to kill Gabe. No one is really sure WHY but they figure if skynet is going to such lengths to kill this kid then he must be worth protecting. So the human resistance sends back Amadeus to find Gabe and keep him safe from this Terminator. 

He steals some clothes, a gun and a car(not like hes really planning on settling down here anyway who cares about a few broken laws)  shows up at the Reyes residence, meets Gabe.. and basically all his plans blow up. This is absolutely NOT the type of person he was expecting and he sure as shit doesn't want to go anywhere with this random stranger. So naturally he kidnaps Gabe and starts getting the fuck out of the city (while also starting work on an electromagnetic field reader that he thinks can help detect terminators).

Robbie shows up back home after grocery shopping and uhhhhh Gabes NOT THERE theres BROKEN SHIT IN HIS HOUSE and the neighbors keep talking about a STOLEN CAR and some maniac who stole from a GUN SHOP. So he does the only reasonable thing he can think of, checks Life 360 hoping that Gabe still has his phone on him (he does) gets into his car and starts hunting them down. Between his crazy driving skills and freakish persistence, Amadeus can only conclude that Robbie is the terminator sent to kill Gabe.

When Robbie finally heads them off at an abandoned warehouse Amadeus tries to pull Gabe along with him and run away. But when Robbie steps out of his car, Gabe recognizes him and starts trying to get there. Amadeus is panicked, pointing his gun at Robbie to try and keep him away and, at this point, VERY confused. Because he’s pulled out his EMF reader and is getting some absolutely WACK readings off Robbie but hes also very much so being deterred by the gun (terminators couldnt gibe two shits about guns thlse metal fuckheads eat bullets for breakfast). The readings shortly get even more wack when the ACTUAL Terminator sent to kill Gabe shows up. Amadeus fires a couple of shots into the Terminator to confirm what he already knew (subsequently freaking both Robbie and Gabe out sufficiently enough to confirm that at least Amadeus isn’t entirely crazy). They pile into the Reyes-mobile and peel off shortly before the terminator gets into Amadeus’ abandoned stolen car and starts going after them.

Robbie is doing his best to ask what the FUCK is actually going on while getting away but Amadeus is still double checking his EMF readings because Robbie is DEFINETLY not human but also clearly isn’t here to kill Gabe. Quickly puts two and two together that for SOME reason SOMEhow Robbie is here to PROTECT Gabe from this other Terminator. Amadeus is. A little distracted because of this and keeps asking Robbie about his ‘Programming’ (sort of a “WOW your programming must be good you REALLY think he’s your brother and thats WHY you have to protect him!” “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT WHO WAS THAT GUY HOW DID HE KEEP WALKING AFTER YOU SHOT HIM” “It was a terminator keep up. Hey did you even TRY to call the police or did you just start coming after me because you knew it would be faster? Cause damnnnnn again. PROGRAMMING!”)

After finally losing the terminator that’s been on their tail, they find the police are not too happy about their reckless driving, arrest them and take them to the station to keep in a holding cell. While Robbie is in said holding cell with Amadeus (Gabe is presently being asked questions) there’s a police officer who recognizes him as that weird little kid who just appeared out of nowhere.

“Yeah we had absolutely NOTHING on you. It was like you hadn't existed until the day we found you!” So Robbie has to sit and listen to this while Amadeus is just confirming in his head what he already figured out. Being stuck in that cell trying to stay in denial with the guy whose favorite thing to say in the world is ‘I Told You So’ is not great. (un)Fortunately this is when the actual terminator shows up again.

This time, being faced with both the Terminator AND police trying to stop him from leaving, Robbies defense systems activate. He goes absolutely HAM on everyone in his way. He’s extremely default Terminator-like (Emotionless, distant, empty, quiet) in this state because all of his infiltration protocols have been halted. He even manages to fight off the other terminator decently well, but not before getting blasted in the arm with a shotgun shell. It goes deep enough that his metal endoskeleton is revealed. I also had this idea of like. His arm getting caught in something and he just stares at whoever trapped it there. Looks them dead in the eyes as he degloves his entire hand then beats the shit out of whoever got in his way with his metal fist. He stays in this state until they steal ANOTHER car, and he finally snaps out of it. And sees his hands covered in blood. And glimmers of his metal skeleton. And his brother looking at him in fear.

AND THATS WHAT IVE GOT RN I CAN'T WRITE LIKE YALL CAN I DON'T HAVE THE PATIENCE FOR IT I HAVE TO GET ALL OF THIS OUT LIKE RIGHT NOW SO YEAH UHHHHHHH ENJOY

[mistydeyes]

pharmacist! hcs

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summary: ik some people put themselves in the role of the pharmacist but here are some headcanons i have for her if you consider her more of an oc :)

pairing: 141 x pharmacist!reader

see her here counseling the 141

her story if she likes price

her story if she likes ghost

PS. Another part of her story is coming soon! Look out for next Wednesday :)

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joined the British Army as a pharmacy captain after a two year pharmacy residency in a London hospital

she realized that working at a local chemists and in a hospital weren’t for her so she decided on the career change

speaking of her life before being a pharmacy captain, she was a good student — not at the bottom but not at the top

she primarily struggled with anything related to pharmacology but excelled with therapeutics and counseling

her blood type is O- (a universal blood donor)

before becoming a pharmacist, she had aspirations of becoming a linguist or historian

was amazing at picking up languages and learning them after some time

but she was drawn to pharmacy after seeing how it helped a close family friend who had an MRSA resistant infection

knows 10 different languages and counting (with varying speaking and writing fluency) - English obvi, Spanish, Mandarin, Greek, Latin, Russian, Arabic, Swedish, German, French, and is currently learning Portuguese

loves taking walks and runs at the base gym (she has to get in her recommended 150min of exercise a week)

if you think she’s listening to music while exercising you’re wrong, she’s listening to podcasts and always loves the medicine focused ones

always will show up to military balls or formal events and talk to you about anything under the sun

loves interacting with people 1 on 1 rather than behind a pharmacy counter

also keep in mind she’s not flirting, she just loves chatting with people and knowing how to make their day better

one time, she met a linguist and after the initial awkwardness (she thought the pharmacist was hitting on her), they had a whole conversation about the nuances of languages

if you know her well, you’ll notice how she deflects the conversation onto you and talking abt yourself as she loves observing

Gaz and Ghost frustrate her at times as she finds herself revealing things she normally won’t tell patients

despite the health risk, she loves caffeine and always has an energy drink or cup of coffee during the day

her diet is completely different, she prefers to prepare things in her room or look for the best things in the mess hall (she needs a balanced diet)

her bookshelves in her room are filled with books in a variety of languages and are often history books or classics

she also is currently reading a book that details the history of women in medicine

she has pictures in her room which show her happiest times aka being in pharmacy school

carries a large water bottle with her at all times and her tech’s have to remind her to stay hydrated during a shift

her techs are basically her siblings and she likes to take them off base occasionally to chat about something different than drugs and immunizations

her drink of choice is a tequila sunrise because tequila is the only alcohol that isn’t a depressant and also orange juice is a great source of Vit C!

her second drink of choice is a penicillin

wants to be a professor when she retires and dreams of teaching about self-care recommendations and emergency medicine

has a small tattoo of a mortar and pestle on her forearm, she got it with some of her friends when they all graduated

her tech joked that she should get a notepad tattooed on her wrist because she always writes reminders on her arms

primarily lives on base and occasionally visits her parents who live in Brighton

she updates them weekly but they know their daughter is in one of the safest places in the UK

her favorite drug to administer are any antimalarials, eye drops, nasal spray, and inhalers (she loves that she just has to count the boxes)

her least favorite is Metformin and thyroid drugs as they often are in counts of 90 or 180

constantly uses pink pen and colorful sticky notes (peep her little notes in the medical files)

the reason she hates doctors is not because of anything significant but because of an ex that told her that her degree was irrelevant because she didn’t go to med school

hates the stigma against pharmacists, in the US they’re literally considered doctors so why is there such disrespect?

she’ll never admit it but her favorite patients are the 141, they all have such unique personalities that she constantly looks for their scripts every morning

[milkteamoon]

2023 fanfic review ✨

Meant to do a wrap up a few days ago but I got busy — so I'm doing it today! Here's a big long list of fics I read and enjoyed in 2023 (not all were published in 2023, but several were!). Ratings may vary, so please read the tags!

▷ Ask an Exec by shinyopals — (rated T, complete, 6/6) A series of posts to a workplace management advice form made by a particularly strange poster. This one was so fun to read along with, and Opal always nails it with the unique storytelling methods.

▷ And We Are Full of Stories to be Told by saintbleeding — (rated T, oneshot) a meeting somewhere else. Just...just read it. You'll like it, I promise.

▷ Particular by aza — (rated G, oneshot) Jon doesn't like anyone, but sometimes he likes this one. I love a good ace Jon fic.

▷ Stay Here Under My Tail by ravenxavier — (rated M, oneshot) after Jon's statement habits are discovered, him and Daisy take a ride. I love this fic's depiction of Jon and Daisy's relationship, with just the right amount of s4 anxiety.

▷ The Wounded and the Blessed by hihereami — (rated T, oneshot) an au set in the 1950s where a priest makes friends with a very lonely doctor. Y'all, the yearning in this fic...... literally left me staring at a wall for hours after finishing. A must read.

▷ Strange Manner by inkfingers_mcgee — (rated T, complete, 17/17) needing money, Martin signs up for a dubious app for blood donors and meets a very particular vampire in the process. Also kept up with this fic as it was coming out and had so much fun being tugged along for the ride. A great universe and a great lot of fun!

▷ A Measure Outside the Lines by rend_herring — (rated E, oneshot) after fleeing to Scotland, Jon and Martin navigate their post-Lonely relationship. I know there's a million safehouse fics out there, but this one is just...so sweet... There are so many lines I want to quote but I'd just end up quoting the whole fic haha.

▷ It Blooms by godshaper — (rated M, oneshot) Martin meets a mysterious stranger the day before his wedding. Fae au!! This one has a really fun universe and a deliciously excellent fast burn.

▷ On the Factual Particulars of the Death of Mrs. Blackwood by saintbleeding — (rated T, ongoing, 5/?) primarily sourced accounts from one Mr. Martin Blackwood regarding his new job at The Magnus Archives. This is a really fun victorian au that really nails the style and character voices.

▷ Sun in an Empty Room by transjon — (rated T, oneshot) the in between after the apocalypse. I love a romantic bad-ish end fic, and this one is very fun.

▷ Communion Past the Need of Speech by pieandsouffle — (rated G, oneshot) a hologram and a former borg drone have a lunch date. Star Trek au anyone?? Star Trek au.

▷ Gertrude is Still Around by occudo — (rated T, series) an au where Gertrude is still archivist and the archival crew members are her assistants. This one is technically a comic series but I'm putting it on this because it's my rec list and I can do what I want okay!!!!!!

[wildlife4life]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by the lovely @exhuastedpigeon, @hippolotamus @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @jeeyuns @hoodie-buck @theotherbuckley and @ladydorian05 Thank you all so much!

I am in a very generous mood today, so for this tidbit Tuesday I am sharing several teases from different wips. Enjoy!

NFL Buck: Athena hits the intercom above the code box, taking note of cameras that swivel slightly towards her way. A deep voice seeped with weariness comes through the speaker, "What can I do for you officer?"

In the back seat of her cruiser, Eddie immediately perks up and cries out, "Buck! She arrested me and I don't like it and I swear those tiny humans put her up to it! But I didn't do it! I swear!"

4+1 Buck is too nice: Eddie is actually contemplating stealing Bobby's nice knife set away from the firehouse. Stolen knives for Eddie's stolen boyfriend. Seems fair. Sort of.

When in reality Eddie more than understands. Athena is working, Bobby is covering for Captain Royce, and trying to get any sort of non-familiar (free) transportation from LAX was a disservice to May.

Kidnapped Mpreg Buck: Eddie grips his tiny newborn daughter tight to his chest. Its too quiet. Buck is silent, no longer screaming in agony. Their baby has gone quiet after her first cries. Doug will never make a sound again, lying dead by the fireplace. He can barely hear Hen muttering under her breath, pumping her fist hard over Buck's chest. Chimney hasn't said a word since announcing the loss of Buck's heart beat, frantically working to try and stop the omega from bleeding out. And Maddie...is slumped against the wall near the bed where her brother lays dying, covered in blood from Doug, herself, and Buck. Catatonic. Quiet. Too quiet.

Parental Chimney w/ Teen Buddie: Chimney does a double take when he see's Eddie standing just a step inside the bay doors. The older teen is wringing his hands together, looking nervous and very lost.

Tapping Hen on the shoulder, he motions towards the kid and Hen nods in understanding. "Yell if you need back-up." She jokes somewhat serious.

Chimney rolls his eyes, "Doubt he's here to cause harm."

Hen shrugs, "Your new to this parenting thing, and so am I, so asking for help won't hurt." She glances over to Eddie, "Just don't be too hard on him. From my understanding, kids been through enough and losing Buck must feel like rock bottom."

Return of sperm donor kid: “Carson, Connor is your dad, okay?  I just-well-um” Buck was floundering to find the right way to explain to a beginning 5th grader how sperm donation works. 

“He’s not my dad! I heard my mom say so!” Connor shouted, anger and frustration starting to take over.

Buck raised his hands up in gentle defense, “Okay. Okay.  Let’s just,” He sighs in frustration, looking upwards.  Buck didn’t really pray, but he did believe in the universe and Eddie would be his entire paycheck that he was cursing it right now. “I’m calling your parents.”

Carson opened his mouth to object, but Buck immediately cut him off, “I am calling your parents, and that includes your dad, the same man who has fed you, clothed you, LOVED you since the day you were born. I am calling them and then we are all going to sit down and talk. Understand?”

Hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @bekkachaos @prosperdemeter2 @spotsandsocks @malewifediaz @elvensorceress @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @devirnis @eddiebabygirldiaz @loserdiaz @spaceprincessem @thekristen999 @lizzybizzyzzz @homerforsure @sibylsleaves @spagheddiediaz @try-set-me-on-fire @monsterrae1 @lover-of-mine @rogerzsteven @eowon @honestlydarkprincess @911onabc @911-on-abc @cowboydiazes @vampbuckley @brokenribsdiaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @arthursdent @glorious-spoon @buddierights @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @gayhoediaz @gayedmundodiaz

[rallamajoop]

Some statistics on Lucy and the odds of surviving (non-vampiric) blood transfusions

Because it’s Dracula-season again, and because I am absolutely that kind of nerd, I spent some time calculating the actual odds of Lucy surviving all those blood transfusions from unrelated donors. To summarise what I found up front: Lucy's odds aren't great, but they're still a lot higher than you might think.

Now, I’m not the first person ever to tackle this question, and having no medical qualifications whatsoever, I'm not the best person either. But figuring out the answer to my own satisfaction was a great excuse to learn a whole lot of fascinating stuff that took some digging to figure out, so (with the caveat that I am entirely open to corrections from real professionals) naturally now I want to share it.

The complete world history of attempted blood transfusions is way beyond scope for us here (you can find plenty of sources on it online if you’re curious). But as Stoker’s text aptly demonstrates, the science of blood transfusion had come a long way by the Victorian era – just not the means for doctors to reliably predict which transfusions would be successful, and which would simply kill the patient. The principle behind the basic A, B and O blood types wouldn’t be discovered until 1900 – 4 years after Dracula was published, and wouldn't become part of general medical practice for much longer – and the additional Rh-factors wouldn’t be discovered until 1939. In Stoker's day, doctors were still so far behind the ball some of them thought transfusing milk into people suffering blood loss was a good idea (yes, really). And though I'm focusing on blood groups here, it goes without saying there are plenty of other risks that come from letting any Victorian-era doctor open your veins.

That said, what the average person knows about how blood types work may not be all that much advanced today from what doctors knew in the 1890s. It’s easy to come out of Dracula thinking, “Wow, they gave Lucy blood from four different people? The odds all their blood types would matched hers must be minuscule!” (and a quick search of the web for this topic will find people asking exactly that). But there are several factors which make Lucy’s chances a whole lot better than they might look on paper.

(Image source)

For one thing, even though there are many different blood groups to worry about, some are much more common than others. If just one blood group accounts for half the population (which is actually true of some countries), then Lucy’s odds of hitting four donors with the same group just by chance would go way up.

But far more important is the fact that blood groups don’t have to be a 'match' to be compatible. If Lucy is one of the 2% of the British population with the blood group AB+, she’d be a universal recipient – theoretically capable of receiving blood from anyone without adverse reactions. Similarly, if any of her donors were O-, she’s in luck again, because that makes them a universal donor. If Lucy herself is O-, however, she’s in trouble: universal donors can donate to any other group, but they can only receive from other O-negs.

Confused? Time to get a bit more technical.

When receiving blood, your greatest enemy is your own immune system. Vital as all those immune cells are, they are not smart, and have no way of knowing that all this foreign blood suddenly flooding your system is friendly. If the don’t recognise those blood cells, they’ll attack them, bonding to their surface and causing cells to clump together and form clots which can clog up your arteries and kill you. Transfusing the wrong blood type can and likely will kill you.

The immune system identifies blood cells as intruders via specific antigens found on the cell’s surface. The most important antigens in blood matching systems are the A and B antigens, and secondarily the Rhesus antigens (marked + or -). Some people have all of these antigens (AB+), some have none (O- with the ‘O’ more literally indicating a ‘0’ or a null) and many have some but not all (A+, B-, O+, etc). Meanwhile, the immune system of the recipient body, much like your racist uncle, will attack most anything with distinguishing features it hasn't seen before (like I said, it’s not smart). A blood cell which is missing a familiar antigen will slip through, but a blood cell sporting an unfamiliar antigen will trigger a reaction. So the immune system of someone with B-type blood will have issues with any A-type blood you try and transfuse in, but will be just fine with B or O, since O lacks any antigens to mark it as an intruder.

Once you know what you’re looking for, A, B, AB and O type blood can be identified fairly easily, just by mixing blood or antibodies and watching the reaction. I’ve seen some suggestions that this may have been understood even to some of the better-informed doctors in Victorian times: when unsure if a transfusion would be safe, they could try transfusing just a small amount of blood, watch for a bad reaction, and continue only if things look good. If you absolutely have to do a blood transfusion without any testing though, an immediate family member is your best bet: blood types can still differ among a family, but there’s a strong genetic component. (Sadly, this wouldn’t have been an option for Lucy, as her mother was already unwell, and would not have been considered a good transfusion candidate.)

Things get more complicated when you add in the Rhesus factor, which wasn’t discovered until some decades later, and for good reason: bad reactions to Rh+ blood develop in Rh- people only after that first transfusion. While A and B types might be like your racist uncle, the Rh factor is more like putting a dog on your basketball team: you’ll get away with it once, because you’ve brought in something so unexpected no-one’s made a rule about it yet (let alone bothered to come up with anti-dog basketball tactics). Unlike the standard A and B antigens, the immune system has to have 1) seen Rh+ blood, and 2) spent some time thinking about a good plan of attack before it’s ready to do anything about it – by which point the donor blood should be out of your system anyway. It's only the next transfusion after that where you can hit problems.

In practice, the Rh factor is of most concern to Rh- mothers carrying Rh+ babies. The first baby should be fine, but the delivery process can result in some mixing of the mother and baby's blood ‒ and that can leave her immune system primed to take offense at any future passengers of the Rh+ persuasion (why this apparently doesn’t also apply to A and B type babies in A or B negative mothers I’m not sure, but obviously the Rh-immune response works differently). With all today’s modern medical technology, this is something doctors can identify in expectant parents and manage with medication, but obviously they're still going to want to avoid transfusing Rh+ blood into an Rh- patient (especially if they’ve already got Rh+ kids).

Regardless, for our purposes, it’s only from the second transfusion that the Rh factor could trip you up. So could that be an issue for Lucy, if she’s getting so many transfusions? It's harder to find good info on exactly how long the Rh immune reaction takes to develop after the first transfusion, but most of what I could find suggests we’re looking at a period of weeks to months at least. So that’s good news for Lucy: we can ignore Rh factors when we’re calculating her odds of survival.

As a minor aside here, the standard eight blood types you can get by combining A, B and the Rhesus factor aren’t technically the only blood types out there. These three antigens matter most because people both with and without them are common in the broader human population, but a small minority of people are missing other antigens that the rest of us get as standard. European blood banks apparently also classify blood by a Kell factor, and people with anaemia and other conditions likely to require regular transfusions may be checked for several other potential Rh-like issues. A handful of people worldwide have blood classified as neither Rh+ or Rh-, but Rh-null – missing antigens common to 99.9% of the human population, and being in that class is a very mixed blessing. Blood donations from someone Rh-null can be used in recipients with rare blood types that would make them incompatible with almost any other donor. But if someone Rh-null ever needs a blood donation themselves, they’re in big trouble.

So, enough theory. What’s all this mean for Lucy’s odds of making it through 4 blood transfusions from unrelated donors?

Unsurprisingly, ratios of different blood groups vary a lot country to country and population to population, so I looked up ratios in modern Britain (Van Helsing is Dutch, of course, but blood groups in the Netherlands are similar enough to those in the UK that we’ll ignore that, just for simplicity). It’s possible these ratios have drifted since Victorian times, but figuring out how is so far beyond scope here we’re not going to worry about it. As discussed above, we’ll also ignore Rh factors – Lucy’s almost certainly never had a blood transfusion or a baby before, and everything happens far too fast for an Rh-immune response to kick in.

Alright. It’s statistics time!

We don't know Lucy's blood group, so any are possible. For each potential Lucy-blood-group, we can generate a list of blood groups which will be compatible donors (we'll call that list C(x)), and from that, we can calculate the probability that she'll be compatible with any randomly-selected donor. For Lucy to survive, we need her to survive 4 successive blood transfusions, so we’re raising that survival probability to the power of 4. Then to calculate her overall probability of survival, we multiply the survival rate by the odds she’s in that blood group, and add them together (no need to divide by the total population, that’s an easy 100%). So if we let n = number of transfusions and P(x) = probability a person is in blood group x, we get the following lovely equation:

(Yes, I know, I'm sorry ‒ someone out there is going to want to check my working, and I like to be transparent.)

And with that, (assuming I’m not just talking out of my arse with all those calculations), that suggests Lucy’s overall chances of surviving 4 different blood transfusions is about: (drum roll)... 27%. So, roughly 1 in 4.

The really savvy reader might notice that Lucy does not, technically, survive all four transfusions – she dies shortly after the fourth, so it’s conceivable that last transfusion was a mismatch. If we take the requirements down to where Lucy only needs to survive 3 transfusions, her odds go up to 34%, or closer to 1 in 3. Still not great, but given the sorts of crazy one-in-a-million coincidences all fiction is built on, that’s actually pretty reasonable. Even if you do factor in Rh compatibilities, we're still looking at around 21% survival rate after 4 transfusions, which are pretty decent odds in the world of Victorian medicine.

Do those odds sound a little high to you? Here’s something to keep in mind. On paper, Lucy’s odds of surviving even a single random-donor transfusion are only 65%. But given she survived that first transfusion, the odds go up that she’s in one of those near-universal blood groups, and they keep going up. Sure, every new transfusion has a new chance to kill you, but statistically speaking, every transfusion you survive marks you as someone who’s a little more likely to survive the next. So someone who's already survived 2 transfusions has a 76% chance of surviving a 3rd ‒ and if they do survive that 3rd, an 80% chance of surviving a 4th.

As another aside though, even after surviving four successive transfusions, the odds Lucy’s in that lucky AB universal-recipient category are still only about 10% (compared to 3% of the base population). Statistically, it’s still far more likely she’s in the A-group ‒ the second largest group in the UK, and who can receive blood from the other largest group (O), letting them receive blood from a whooping 86% of the population without issue. Aren’t statistics wonderful?

Oh, all right – I’ll stop with the maths. We’ve made our point here.

Now, we could still point out that, for a supposedly-experienced physician, Stoker's Van Helsing seems pretty blase about the possibility his blood transfusions could backfire horribly ‒ but then, Lucy's already on death's door each time he resorts to asking for volunteers. He's doing the only thing that might save her life (and it does, until it doesn't).

To conclude, no-one is going to tell you Dracula makes sense. This is a book which offers no explanation for why Dracula should just happen land in England on the same town where his solicitor’s fiancée just is taking a holiday, let alone the rest of it. And Stoker had no way of knowing Lucy’s actual odds of surviving such a very Victorian procedure. But that whole blood transfusion sequence is far from being the least probable thing in the book. 

[theclairvoyage]

Centrifugation: Chapter 6

Series Masterlist

A familiar face returns to the center.

Warnings: gun violence, knife violence, character death, mentions of blood, brief smut, panic attack, fluff, emotional turmoil, hospital stuff, stitches.

WC: 4.1k

Banners courtesy of @cafekitsune and @saradika

Wednesday, October 20th | 0755

As you clock in for your first shift after some time off, you feel recharged and ready to tackle the day.  The parking lot wasn’t too full, which was a good start—much easier than having to do cleanup as soon as you walk in the door.  Keri came in later today, meaning you’d get to spend a little more time with her in the afternoon—she usually opened and was one of the first ones to leave.  The morning rush was decent, and your trainee, Jayla, came in for a bit to make up for the lost hours last week.  You showed her the basics of setting up a machine, sticking a donor, and disconnecting them once they were done.  She seemed eager to learn and caught on quickly—by midday, she was doing setups and disconnects by herself.  Keri rolled in around 1100 and sent the two of you to your lunch break.

“I need an update on your date,” she says as she throws on a lab coat, winking at you.  You smile and feel your cheeks warm.

“You were right about him being great in bed,” you say, and her jaw drops.  She punches your arm with a giggle.

“I knew it!! And he lives in West O?  I didn’t realize he was rich rich,” she says, eyes widening.  Her expression turns to confusion soon after, and she asks, “Wait, why does he donate, then?”  You explain Sarah’s “fun money” situation, admitting that even if he didn’t donate, she’d probably still have plenty of fun money.

“You know, there are good people out there that donate just to be helpful,” Keri reminds you, half-sarcastically.  Those people existed, but they were few and far between.  Most people needed the money—Joel was not one of them.

“So, now that we both know he doesn’t need the money, really… it means if he keeps coming here, it’s just to see you,” she says with a snicker.

“I have a feeling those won’t be the only times he’ll see me during the week,” you say, giving her an exaggerated wink, mouth dropping open as you squeeze one eyelid shut.  She laughs.

“Girl… how big is he?” she whispers, leaning in close to you so any donors nearby won’t hear.  Your cheeks heat up at the memory of your escapades the last few days.

“Biggest I’ve ever had, swear,” you whisper, “He’s very… thick.”  Her eyes widen.

“So, what you’re saying is that you’re sore right now?” she asks, a devilish smirk curling on her cheeks.

“It’s like I rode a horse,” you say, causing you both to bust out laughing.  Keri pushes you toward the break room door as she giggles.

“Go to break before I waste all my time talking about your sex life!”  You wink at her again and do just that.

Wednesday, October 20th | 1315

Your lunch break went by smoothly—you ate some of the food you had meal prepped yesterday and got to know Jayla a bit more.  She was a freshman studying premed at the University of Nebraska-Omaha, not too far from the center.  She admitted that this was her first real job, but she enjoyed it and looked forward to learning more—she even apologized for the call-ins last week.  Feeling confident that she could take on some tasks independently, you let her man her own section for a bit.  You remember now that you need to request some time off to see your grandma.

You hang up your coat and ask Keri to keep an eye on Jayla before making your way to the manager’s office, which is on the opposite side of the building.  You walk past the reception area and back to the restricted area to find Trina’s office door open.  She’s perched at her desk, searching through the camera footage.  An officer is next to her, staring at the monitor as she clicks through the archived footage.  Apprehensively, you knock on the door.  Trina looks up and gives you a warm smile.

“Hey!  We were just going through the footage of Cedric’s incident last week so they can finalize the police report,” Trina says, giving you a reassuring nod.  “Officer Petrovski, this is my lead phlebotomist and the one who was threatened by him.”  You offer your hand and shake his.  He’s shorter than you and quite thin, bald with thick-rimmed glasses.  He must be the cyber crimes type, you think.

“Excellent, send the footage to this email address and we’ll notify you once everything is complete,” he says, giving Trina a business card before shaking her hand.  He gives you a short nod as he steps out of the office.

“So, what brings you in here, dear?” Trina asks, organizing some stacks of paper on her desk before looking up at you.

“I need to request some PTO next month—my Grandma isn’t doing too well,” you say, trying to keep the conversation light-hearted.  She gives you a sympathetic look and pulls a calendar off the wall behind her.

“You have the most PTO of everyone, as you know,” she says with a chuckle, “So your options are pretty open.”  You look down at the calendar and see a handful of people have requested Thanksgiving off, which is par for the course.  There’s a week at the beginning of November that’s empty.

“How about the first week of November?  Monday the 1st through the 8th,” you offer, pointing at the empty dates.  She scribbles your name in each of the date boxes for that week.

“You’re all set.  I’ll put in your PTO the week before then.  And please—,” she stops to put a thoughtful hand on your arm, “Reach out if you need anything.  You’re aware of our counseling resources, but also if you just need to talk.”  You smile, blinking back tears.  Trina has always been thoughtful—always puts her employees first.

“Thanks, Trina.  I will,” you say, waving at her as you step out of the office.  You pull your phone up to text Joel the dates, noticing that he’s already texted you.

Joel: Hope you have a great day, sweetheart.

Joel: Let me know when I need to take off work for our trip.

You smile.  You two must have some telekinetic connection.

You: I literally just requested the time off not even 5 minutes ago.  November 1st-8th.  Does that work for you?

Joel: Yep.  Helps to be the boss 😉

You: Sorry I missed your first text.  It’s been a good morning!  My trainee is doing really well and it’s not too busy here.

Joel: That’s great.  I gotta get back to a client with Tommy, but I’ll talk to you later this evening.  Miss you already.

You: You too 😊

You head back to the break room to drop your phone off, walking through the reception area first.  The chairs are empty—unusual for this time of day.  Usually, the late lunch rush starts and bleeds into the dinner rush.  The front door swings open right as you’re about to head through the restricted employee-only area—the person that steps in makes you freeze.

It's Cedric.  He looks like a cracked-out white Jesus—long, stringy blonde hair that probably hasn’t been brushed in days.  Skinny figure, average height.  His pupils are pinpointed, dark circles pooling underneath his eyes, fingers twitching, baring teeth that have an overdue need for dental work—very Smeagol-like.  He’s high on something.  He’s hunched over slightly and staring right at you, bloodthirsty.  You’re still frozen in place, unsure of what to do.  He speaks first.

“You got me deferred, and I’m short on cash,” he spits, teeth gritted.  His hands curl into clenched fists.  Your eyes narrow briefly as you stare at him, anger flashing through your system.

“You got yourself deferred by blowing something out of proportion and throwing your dirty arm wrap at me,” you remind him, taking a deep breath.  One of the employees in reception has to be seeing this showdown and calling Trina—otherwise this could get ugly, fast.  Your response pisses him off more.

“Bitch!  Your shitty phleb wrapped my arm wrong and I spoke up about it!” he flares, voice raising with each word.  He steps toward you, reaching in his rear waistband for something.  Fuck.  Your phone is in your pocket, and you need to pull it out to activate 911.  You hold both hands up, palms facing him in a surrender-type gesture.  Eyes still on him, you lean your head toward the reception and office area, prepared to scream.  He steps closer, now 20 feet away from you, hand still glued to his rear waistband.

“Come closer and I’ll fucking scream,” you warn him.  He smiles creepily, his disgusting yellow teeth on full display.  He pulls a knife out of his rear waistband, the handle wrapped in camoflauge tape.  It’s a drop-point blade, roughly six inches long.  The blade is dirty and rusty.

The next few moments are a blur and propelled not by thought, but by instinct.  Cedric lunges forward at you, slashing at you with the knife.  A sharp pain lights up your arm.  You kick his stomach after the slash, knocking him to the ground.  You run back toward Trina’s office, warm liquid spilling down your arm.  She’s not in here.  You lock yourself in, comforted by the fact that he doesn’t know the door code.  Plasma centers are built to keep donor access very limited—something you’re quite grateful for in this moment.  Sirens are blaring, but you can’t remember when they started.  The cops must’ve been called during your confrontation.  You hear shouting, footsteps screeching and pounding on the vinyl composite tile floors, some terrified screams, a man yelling—must be one of the officers.  Boom.  Boom.  Boom.  Three gunshots.  Oh god—what the fuck is happening out there?  You remember Trina has access to the camera footage in here, but her screen is locked.  You’re stuck in here.  Now that you’re still, the adrenaline clouding your pain has subsided, and you look down to see a decently-sized gash on your left outer forearm—you must’ve raised your hands defensively when Cedric slashed at you.  It’s deep.  Frantically, you look for something to stop the bleeding—there’s a black jacket resting on Trina’s chair.  You rip it off and wrap it around your wound, squeezing tight.  There’s a heavy knock at the door.

“Police!  Is anyone in here?” a man’s voice shouts.  You open your mouth to reply, but your breath catches in your throat.  Wobbily, you step forward to open the door.  Two officers are behind the door, guns pointed at you.

“Ma’am, are you hurt?” one of them asks.  You try to lift your arm, blood seeping out from under the jacket and onto the floor.  Before you can respond verbally, the room turns black.

Wednesday, October 20th | 1857

Bright.  Fuck, it’s bright in here.  You try to open your eyes, but the fluorescent light stings them, forcing you to squeeze them shut.  You groan in confusion.  A cold hand comes up to grip your shoulder.

“Hon, you’re awake—you alright?” a familiar voice asks, frantic.  It’s Keri.  You open your eyes, vision blurry and eyes heavy.  You’re in a hospital room, donned in one of those ugly printed gowns.  Your left arm is wrapped with thick gauze, IV taped to your hand.  You’re tired, sluggish—like each movement of your pupils is draining what little energy you have left.  Blinking a few times, you finally focus on Keri’s face.  She’s seated on your bed, hands holding your uninjured arm for dear life.  Her face is red, and tear stained.

“Ker—wh-why are we in a hospital?” you ask, moving your bandaged arm up to block the bright light.  Your arm aches, a dull throb pulsing down to your shoulder.  You wince.  She shushes you.

“Don’t try to move your arm, hon—relax.  Cedric came back for revenge and stabbed you.  Do you remember that?” she asks, rubbing your shoulder.  You close your eyes and remember his nasty yellow teeth bared at you, the hunch of his figure, him reaching in his waistband for something—then clips of you on a stretcher, healthcare workers shouting as they push you through a hallway.

“Fuck,” you whisper, “Yeah, I remember—did they, did—,” you cut yourself off, remembering hearing gunshots at the center.

“Cedric’s dead.  Tried to stab the cops, apparently.  He was wigged out on heroin,” Keri says, voice calm, grounding.  Your stomach drops, imagining his lifeless body on the vinyl floor in the main lobby of the center.  Trina walks into the room, eyes red and swollen.  She’s been crying, too.  She sobs a sigh of relief seeing you awake and talking, albeit sluggishly.  She comes up behind Keri and holds your right hand tightly.

“Jesus, I’m so glad you’re okay, I’m so sorry I wasn’t by the front when he came in,” she says, clearly racked with guilt.  You shake your heavy head.

“S’not your fault, Trin—he just got lucky,” you say, smirking and forcing a laugh out of those two.

“Heard you kicked the shit outta him,” she says, smiling and wiping tears from her cheeks.  Keri’s crying again, too, but also laughing.

“Felt like Street Fighter,” you mumble, clearly high on whatever painkillers are dripping through your IV, and they cackle.  Suddenly, you remember wrapping your arm with the jacket on her chair.  “Trin—I, your jacket, I had to—,” she cuts you off, squeezing your hand and closing her eyes as she shakes her head.

“Don’t even worry about it—I’m glad there was something in there that helped you,” she assures you.

“Stitches?” you ask them.  They both nod.

“Fourteen,” Keri says, voice calm but apprehensive.  Your eyes widen.

“He got me good,” you breathe, leaning your head back onto your pillow and clamping your eyes shut.  There’s a knock at the open door of your room.  A tall, dark, curly-haired handsome man is at the doorway.  Joel.  You smile as best you can in your current state.  Keri leans into your ear.

“I called him,” she whispers, “I know you’re stubborn as hell, but I’m pretty certain he’s crazy about you and would want to help.”  You’re not mad at her—you’re relieved to see him.  Keri and Trina step out and shut the door behind them, giving you privacy.  Joel rushes over to where Keri sat and replaces her.  His face is stricken with worry, eyes wet and red—he’s been crying.  Shit.  He wraps his arms around you, careful not to squeeze too hard, and buries his face in your neck.

“I was so fuckin’ worried about you, I came as soon as I could—fuck, darlin’ I’m so sorry I wasn’t here faster, I shouldn’t have let h—,” you cut him off with a shush, running the fingers of your right hand through his hair and smoothing the back of his neck.

“It’s okay, Joel—not your fault.  Please don’t blame yourself,” you whisper in his ear, holding him tightly.  You want him to stay as close as possible.  Pain and guilt curl around your lungs at the sight of your closest ones being upset.  You know it’s not your fault, but it hurts to see them like this.

“God, I’m so fuckin’ glad you’re okay, baby, when I got the call, I was—,” he stops for a second, tears pooling in his beautiful amber eyes.  He stares in your eyes and smiles, the sight of you calming him.  You’re clearly loaded on morphine and exhausted out of your mind, dark circles under your eyes, hair a tangly mess—but you’re still gorgeous.

“Kiss me, Joel,” you plead quietly, tears forming in your eyes.  One trickles down.  He kisses it, the salt stinging his lips.  He kisses the corner of your mouth, your chin, your jaw, before finally placing his lips on yours.  The kiss is gentle at first, but your exhaustion and his despair at the thought of losing you take over, and it gets hot and heavy.  Your mouths are frantic, teeth bumping and tongues twisting—it’s fast and messy, both of you pouring your relief into one another.  His beard scratches your chin, and you moan, pulling him tighter to you.  He cups your face in his hands and pulls away, panting heavily in your face.

“We’re alright, darlin’, let’s get you better before we do anything else,” he says, chuckling and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“S’just my arm, Joel—I don’t need it for that,” you say, slurring your words.  You’re starting to succumb to morphine, eyelids heavy and drooping.  He’s smiling at you softly, though eyes still veiled in worry.

“Get some sleep, my sweet girl.  I’ll be right here, okay?  I promise,” he says, giving you a chaste kiss before you drift off to sleep.

Thursday, October 21st | 0904

You slept all night, Joel in the chair by your side the entire time.  You woke feeling fine, minus the sore sting of your arm.  The charge nurse came in and changed your gauze and unhooked your IV, followed by the doctor, who cleared you to check out that morning.  She advised you to take it easy and come back for a follow-up appointment in two weeks.  She prescribed you some hefty pain pills, which worried you—the doctor stated that it’d be best to stay with someone while you were taking them.  Joel assured the doctor that he’d be taking care of you—making you swoon. The doctor also scheduled you for a psychiatric consultation, which was the standard for patients experiencing traumatic events like yours–probably a good thing.

Keri and Trina stopped by before you left and gave you the lowdown on the center, which would be closed for an indefinite amount of time so the police could investigate, and the staff could take time to recover from the incident.  Trina requested a medical leave of absence for you, which was approved by the corporate office quickly.

“I don’t wanna see you back at work until after your November trip—and take more time after that if you need it. You have a bank of PTO, remember,” she told you, wagging an index finger at you while smirking.

“Yes, ma’am,” you had said, saluting her and making everyone in the room giggle.

Now, you’re getting dressed and getting ready to leave the hospital with Joel.  He unties your gown from the front and pulls it off you, covering you with a blanket while he finds clothes that Keri had brought for you.  The room is cold, the frigid air making your nipples peak.  You’re naked under this blanket, and Joel is aware—painfully, so—but respects you in your time of vulnerability.  You’re mostly covered except the middle of your chest and abdomen, where the blanket doesn’t overlap, revealing a long triangle of skin from your sternum to underneath your belly button.  He turns back to you with some clothes in hand and his eyes latch onto your bare skin.  Sucking in a breath, he steps closer to you and hands you the clothes.  You watch him with a smirk and drop the blanket, eyes holding his gaze the entire time.  He can’t help but stare at your naked body—still mesmerized at your beauty.

“Sweetheart, not here,” he says, pained, dick tense against his denim, “As much as I want you and as fuckin’ beautiful as you are, we need to get you home first.”  His eyes strain to stay locked with yours.  You’re a mess, too—seeing him and his being there for you has been keeping you in a low, steady state of arousal the last 12 hours or so.  You’re dripping but can wait until you’re back in a bedroom and not a bright, stuffy hospital room.  For now, though, you want to tease him.

You reach down with your right hand and rub two fingers through your folds, eyes still locked on his.  He gasps and holds his breath, eyes traveling down to watch.  Rubbing slowly, you watch the desire flash over his face, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows tightly.  You remove your fingers and step closer to him.  You put your fingers up to his lips and he swallows again before opening his mouth to take them in.  He sucks on them with a long, low moan, eyes closed in delight at the sweet taste of you—the sight makes your pussy tingle.

Once he’s sucked them clean, you pull them out of his mouth and resume getting dressed like nothing happened.  He growls and comes up behind you, one arm snaked around your waist and the other hand draped around your throat loosely.  He tightens the hand around your neck just slightly, forcing your head up.  You gasp, the display of control and desire heightening your arousal.

“Baby… when we get home, I’m gonna make you come on my tongue as many times as I see fit, y’hear me?” he murmurs in your ear, facial hair close enough to brush your earlobe, “Doctor’s orders.”  You nod, shivering.  He lets go of you and smacks your ass lightly. You finish getting dressed and Joel walks you out of the room, one arm around your waist and the other hooked under the elbow of your injured arm. Both of you thank the nurses and doctor as he guides you to the elevator.

Once you’re outside, you’re relieved to see the sun shining.  It feels odd, though—like the weather doesn’t match your current mental state.  You realize now that you haven’t thought about what happened yesterday; rather, you haven’t had the opportunity to, given the fact that you’d been virtually unconscious until now.  Your introspection has caused you to stop walking, concerning Joel.  He steps in front of you and places both hands on your shoulders.

“Y’alright, sweetheart?” He blinks, clearly nervous about your current state.  You snap back into the present and shift your gaze between each of his eyes.  Your body is trembling, skin feeling clammy all the sudden—like a panic attack is on the verge.

“Y-yeah… I just realized I didn’t really have time to process yesterday—just kinda hit me all at once.  I’m fine though,” you lie, plastering a forced, fake smile on your face.  Joel sees right through it.

“Baby, I know you’re strong, but y’ain’t that strong—what happened to you was major, and it’s gonna take time to heal.  I’m right here with ya, every step of the way, I promise,” he assures you, squeezing your shoulders.  Tears spring from your eyes, a quiet sob escaping your throat.  You feel pathetic—one moment you’re naked, teasing Joel, and the next, you’re in a catatonic state, bawling on the sidewalk of a hospital.  He pulls you into a comforting hug, rubbing circles on your back and stroking your hair.  He repeats you’re okay baby, it’s okay, I got you.  You pull back, sniffling.  Joel wipes the tears from your face.  You let out a weak giggle. This man has known you for a blip and has seen so much of you already.

“This is pitiful, huh?” You ask him, wiping snot with the back of your good hand.  He laughs at you.

“Darlin’, you’re anything but.  Let’s get you home.  D’you wanna stay with me, or want me to stay at your place for a while?” You consider the options: your small apartment that contains all your clothes, or Joel’s luxurious, spacious home.

“Both?  If that’s okay… All my stuff is at my place, and I don’t wanna make you abandon your house,” you offer.  He nods.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart—I’ll be doin’ some work remotely, though you’ll have to help me with my damn computer,” he gripes, making you chuckle.  “I told Tommy what was goin’ on and he’s pullin’ a guy up from the Kansas City office to help for a few weeks, but I’ll still be takin’ care of the books and ordering things,” he says.

“Clerical duties,” you say, winking at him.

“Exactly, darlin’,” he winks back at you.  “So, do y’mind stayin’ at my place the first few nights?  We can stop and get some of your stuff,” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck.  He must not have slept well in that stiff hospital room chair.  You nod and give him a warm smile.

“Let’s get goin’ then, we can stop by the grocery store and get whatever y’might want—snacks, all that,” he says, returning one arm to your waist as you both make your way to his truck.

“You’re such a dad, Joel,” you joke, poking his ribs lightly with your elbow.

“Don’t I know it, baby.”

Taglist: @burntheedges, @syd-djarin, @anoverwhelmingdin <3