#like they rarely invade it but it's still something of an issue

[angels444yuri]

cannot put into words how badly i want to move out. love my parents but i don't know how much longer i can go without complete control of my time,,,

[aphroditelovesu]

⸻ The Lost Queen - XVIII ⸻

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, eventual smut, pregnancy.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 2,330.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden, @elvinapandra, @jennifer0305 , @his0kaswife, @animetye-23.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 18

Roxanna felt restless, as if something inside her was in constant conflict. She paced her room, unable to rest, her thoughts racing around a single issue: her impending marriage to Alexander, the foreign conqueror who seemed to be engulfing the world with his ambition.

Her father had been clear. The union was strategic, a calculated move to ensure the survival of his people in the face of the sweeping changes that lay ahead. With Darius’s downfall looking increasingly likely, joining forces with the man who controlled the most feared armies seemed not only sensible, but necessary. ''It is for the good of all,'' he had said, with the grave tone of one who made decisions beyond his own heart. But his words found no echo in hers.

Roxanna tried not to let her panic show, but the reality was suffocating. She knew little of Alexander, only stories she had been told; enough, however, to recognize that he possessed a magnetic presence. His face was striking, almost chiseled, and his eyes shone with an intensity that could both fascinate and intimidate. He was the kind of man who seemed unshakable, but the force that drew crowds to his feet also made her uneasy.

The weight of this choice that was not hers was made even worse by the shadow of another woman. Alexander already had a wife. Roxanna had heard whispers about (Y/N), the so-called Lost Queen. It was a name that soldiers spoke with reverence, almost like a prayer, and it tormented her. (Y/N) was not dead, but missing, possibly captured by the Persians. Despite her absence, her presence seemed to dominate. The adoration that Alexander clearly had for his wife seemed to be transmitted to his men. She had heard that Alexander was sending out searches and preparing to invade Babylon, supposedly where his wife would be.

How could she, Roxanna, compete with her, a figure who loomed like a specter in the midst of Alexander's ambition? Roxanna was beautiful and she knew it. Her beauty was surpassed only by Darius's wife.

More than that, she felt an inner resistance to the idea of ​​sharing. She knew it was common for kings to have multiple wives, but still, the idea of ​​becoming one of many repulsed her. Roxanna wanted to be more than the second wife, more than a symbol of victory over her people. She wanted to be the first, the only. It was a foolish desire, perhaps, but it was hers.

Still, she knew it didn’t matter. The decision wasn’t in her hands. If Alexander wanted her, there would be no escape. Refusal was unthinkable. She would be forced to play the role of wife, to fulfill the role assigned to her, whether her heart was in it or not.

She would be ready to give her heart to Alexander. But he... Was he ready to give his to her?

"A doctor has come to see you, my Queen." Bagoas’s soft voice cut through the silence of the room, respectful and controlled. He waited patiently at the door until you nodded, allowing him to enter. His gaze was always firm but affectionate, as if he were measuring the environment around him before taking a step. You couldn’t help but grow fond of the eunuch.

"Let him in." You replied, trying to hide the nervousness that was setting in. But the anxiety grew in waves, relentless, as the man entered the room. He carried with him a leather bag and a series of strange instruments. The sight of some of them, with their sharp, mechanical shapes, made your stomach turn. For a brief moment, you couldn’t help but think that they looked more like torture tools than healing tools.

You took a deep breath, trying to find calm. After all, this was an order from Perdiccas, who, even without saying it, showed genuine concern. The memory of him hugging you, holding your hand gently, whispering sweet words to you, was both comforting and disturbing. His presence awakened conflicting feelings. Part of you wished he was there, that he hadn't left the room so abruptly. But another part, hurt by the circumstances, wanted distance.

You needed to talk about what was happening. About everything. But not now. You needed to focus on yourself, on protecting yourself and the life growing inside you. At least, until Alexander came to get you.

Your gaze instinctively fell on your hands, which rested on the subtle curve of your belly. It was an almost unconscious gesture, an attempt to protect the life growing inside you. Although you weren't completely sure about the time, you estimated that your pregnancy was already close to four months. The idea was both beautiful and terrifying.

"How are you feeling, Your Majesty?" The doctor asked, his voice grave but gentle, as he took a few steps towards you. There was something in his gaze, a deep green that seemed to seek answers before you could even offer them.

"A little better." You murmured, trying to sound calm, but feeling the weight of your vulnerability. His eyes met yours, and for an instant, you felt disarmed, exposed. The tension in the air was palpable, and the anticipation of the upcoming examination increased the whirlwind of emotions that already took over you.

The doctor’s gaze fell on the discarded sheet next to the bed, where a small but unmistakable stain of blood marked the clear surface. He coughed discreetly, perhaps to disguise the evident discomfort he felt at the delicate situation.

"You were lucky," He said after a brief silence, gesturing for you to spread your legs. The request was direct, professional, but you couldn't help the blush that rose to your cheeks. The idea of ​​exposing yourself like that, even in front of a doctor, made your body stiffen with embarrassment.

But you forced yourself to keep your composure, taking a deep breath to push away the discomfort. "It’s like he’s a gynecologist," you told yourself in your head, trying to rationalize. He was a doctor, after all. It didn’t matter that medicine back then was rudimentary, or that you had doubts about the real effectiveness of his knowledge.

Details. Just details.

"Was I lucky?" Your voice came out in a low murmur, with a slightly bitter tone that you couldn’t hide. The whole situation felt surreal, as if you were trapped in a game that was out of your control.

And that was probably exactly what it was.

The doctor nodded, moving carefully as he lifted the light chiton covering your body. His gaze remained fixed on his task, professional but intense. "Yes," He replied, his voice deep but calm. "You almost miscarried."

The words hit you like a cold blast, making your heart clench. What had started as discomfort now became palpable fear. You knew the pregnancy was fragile, but hearing it so directly was a cruel confirmation of the vulnerability of this new life inside you.

Instinctively, your hands went back to your belly, as if trying to protect it from any unseen threat. The silence between you stretched for a moment, heavy, as you absorbed what he had said. It wasn’t just luck. It was a warning. And a reminder that your body and mind were carrying far more than they could bear alone.

The doctor carefully lowered your chiton before approaching you again, this time placing his hands on your belly. His initial touch was firm, almost rough, and you flinched instinctively, feeling uncomfortable with the pressure he was applying. He seemed oblivious to your reaction, completely focused on his assessment, but you could barely contain the shiver that ran through your body.

"Why are you doing that so hard?" You started to ask, but he held up his hand, interrupting you before you could finish.

"How long have you been pregnant, Your Majesty?" He asked, his voice serious, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that seemed to weigh on you.

For a moment, the question took you by surprise. His incisive tone and the way he stared at you made you nervous, but you knew you had to answer. Swallowing hard, you murmured, "I think I’m four months along..."

He nodded, but his gaze remained skeptical, as if questioning the accuracy of your answer. Stepping back, he seemed to ponder before finally uttering the words that left you speechless.

"I believe you are pregnant with twins."

"Twins?" You repeated in a whisper, almost as if you were asking yourself.

The doctor nodded again, this time with a more serious expression. He seemed to be measuring his words, but he still chose to be direct. "Your belly is more swollen than normal for a single pregnancy," He explained, his voice calm but filled with concern. After a brief sigh, he continued, this time with a darker tone. "Unfortunately, I must warn you of the risks. Giving birth to two babies... It’s dangerous. There’s a good chance you won’t survive the birth."

His words hit you like a blow. Your eyes widened, and the room seemed to close in around you. To die in childbirth. In ancient times. It sounded like a sentence you never imagined you would face. Terror settled in your chest, and for a moment it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could utter a word, another voice cut through the silence.

"I suggest you keep your comments to yourself."

It was Perdiccas, his imposing figure appearing in the doorway of the room. His tone was calm, but filled with disapproval as he fixed the doctor with a hard stare. His eyes flashed, as if ready to squelch any further attempts to alarm her. "My Queen is already terrified enough. We don’t need your unnecessary comments."

His presence filled the space, and you felt a mixture of relief and discomfort. Perdiccas had always been a complex figure in your life — protective and, at the same time, charged with an authority that sometimes felt overwhelming. Yet his words, even as a reprimand to the doctor, brought a strange sense of security. As if, for a moment, he was willing to carry the weight you feared to face alone.

The doctor hesitated, clearly disconcerted, but bowed his head in deference. "My apologies, Your Majesty. It was merely a warning." He gathered his things quickly, as if to avoid any further confrontation with Perdiccas, and bowed out.

Now, only the two of you remained in the room. Perdiccas approached slowly, his eyes softening as they landed on you. "I will not let anything happen to you," He said, his voice lower and firmer, like a promise he seemed determined to keep.

And in that moment, you allowed yourself to believe his words. There was something in Perdiccas’ tone, in the firmness of his promise, that seemed sincere. Maybe it was the vulnerability that enveloped you, making him an anchor in the midst of the whirlwind of uncertainty. Or maybe it was the old feelings, the ones you tried to bury, but that now resurfaced, stubborn and undeniable, creating cracks in the armor you had built over time.

He was there, close enough for his presence to warm the cold room, and for a brief moment, you felt a security that you hadn’t experienced in months. Against all the reasons your mind tried to list, you found yourself trusting Perdiccas once again, as if his promise were a rope pulling you out of the abyss.

Or maybe it was the pregnancy hormones.

You just hoped you wouldn't regret it a second time.

Alexander was determined: he would only take Roxanna as his wife if he had the consent of (Y/N), his beloved and first wife, from whom fate had separated him. He knew that to unite with another woman without (Y/N)'s knowledge and permission would be the same as betraying the deep feelings he still harbored for her. It was a line that Alexander was not willing to cross. Acting in the shadows, making decisions that could hurt or dishonor (Y/N), would be an act he would never forgive himself for. The respect and love he had for her were unshakable, and even in the face of difficult circumstances, he was determined to honor them above all else.

But before any decision about Roxanna could be made, he had to recover (Y/N). There was no other path to follow while she was still beyond his reach. Alexander had already made his decision: he would leave for Babylon immediately. No matter the challenges, he was willing to face them.

He would mobilize his army for the mission, for he knew that no effort would be too great to rescue his beloved. He trusted his generals and soldiers completely, loyal men who had always followed him, and it would be no different this time. When he communicated his determination, he was certain that they would support him without hesitation, understanding that, for Alexander, the search for (Y/N) was not only a matter of love, but of honor.

"Call the generals immediately." Alexander's firm voice echoed through the room. The page, without wasting time, bowed hurriedly and ran off to carry out the order.

Alexander was alone for a moment, but his mind was far from there. He could almost smell (Y/N)'s perfume, that delicate and unmistakable aroma that had enveloped him so many times. He seemed to hear the soft melody of her laughter in the background and feel the gentle touch of her fingers against his skin. It was as if the memory of her was more alive than ever, calling him to action.

Finally, he would be going after her. There would be no more delay, doubts or hesitations. Every step he took now would bring him closer to (Y/N), and nothing in the world could stop him from bringing her back.

''I'm coming for you, my Queen.''

— lady l: maybe a shorter chapter but that's because it's like a preparation for chapter 19 and especially 20. I hope you liked it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

See you a in the next chapter! I'll probably post the next this weekend, though. It's practically ready. 😉

Also, expect a lot of drama to come! Alexander is coming to Babylon!! 😚

[siriuslyobsessedwithfiction]

What do you mean Nikolai Lantsov was a morally grey character? He was a selfless hero!

Literally Nikolai Lantsov:

Befriended and convinced already disoriented and ignorant Alina that the Darkling was a bigger issue than the First Army and the people turning on Grisha and executing them, a brewing civil war that would most likely happen even if they killed the Darkling, Fjerda and Shu-Han casually invading their territory, etc. That they should abandon negotiations with the Darkling and prepare for war even though the country can't take it. Also, his reasoning that he should become the King? Nikolai: Oh yeah, I'm a bastard with no claim to the throne who has never actually done anything to change Ravka for the better, I was too busy playing pirates. And I just gave the rapist King who doomed this country a nice retirement and more servants to rape, while your friend Genya who he raped gets a trial for attempted regicide, be grateful she will be spared.

"Fouche did not miss the boat: Befriending the revolutionary leader Robespierre, he quickly rose in the rebel ranks. When Fouche arrived in Paris to take his seat at the convention, a violent rift had broken out between die moderates and the radical Jacobins. Fouche sensed that in the long run neither side would emerge victorious."

While Alina and Darkling were watching each other, Nikolai was watching the throne. Darkling got rid of the King and the only legitimate heir for him, so all Nikolai had to do is march into a disbanded army and declare himself a war hero and the King. Nikolai: Maybe we should just abolish absolute monarchy in Ravka because it's 20th century already, some of the countries no longer have it and no one even wants it anymore? Don't be ridiculous. My mother was an oyster and I'm the pearl or something.

"Power rarely ends up in the hands of those who start a revolution, or even of those who further it; power sticks to those who bring it to a conclusion. That was the side Fouche wanted to be on.

At a certain moment, however, he called a halt to the killings, sensing the mood of the country was turning, and despite the blood already on his hands, citizens of Lyons hailed him as a savior from what had become known as the Terror."

Nikolai to the remaining Grisha after the civil war: Right, so I know I used my big guns to slaughter you, the oppressed minority, because you sided with a man who gave you shelter, saved you and was your respected general instead of a girl who was prejudiced against you, never trained, and abandoned you, BUT I need an army. So, here's your pardon and you can once again become serfs to the monarchy who failed you for centuries. Also, the drafting age has been lowered for Grisha and now we're sending unprepared children to missions. Freedom for Grisha? Letting them buy land? Don't be ridiculous. Can't you see I have more important problems to deal with? The Darkling still exists trapped somewhere in the form of a ghost!

If only the author would acknowledge in KoS duology that he has flaws and selfish ambitions. Let him be a complicated character with layers, it's not the end of the world.

[critical-twenty]

I'm kinda new to the cr fandom so i only know c1 stuff... could you write something with the prompt "is it okay to hug you?" from the part 2 list! Maybe something with the party having a s/o who struggles with touch and being vulnerable who has been having a very stressful day? Cries easily when they are frustrated or upset? 😢 If thats too much maybe just something with Vax or Percy cause i love them the most. 💖

sorry this is so late! it’s been sitting in my notes for ages, i’ve just been too busy to post it!

S/O who struggles with touch has a stressful day!

Vax

Vax never really has an issue with the lack of touch in your relationship

Sure, he likes to hold your hand, but it’s not the end of the world if you don’t want to

He’s able to fluster you with just his words anyway

But when you come home one day with tears in your eyes and tension in your back, Vax is unsure of what to do

His first instinct is to reach out to you. It’s what he does for Vex and the others, so why wouldn’t he?

He stops himself when he remembers how much you dislike being touched without express permission

Even when you start crying, Vax doesn’t want to make things worse, so he just stares at you as he tries to ask what’s wrong

You look up at him through tearful eyes and ask ‘Can I hug you?’

Vax is immediately scooping you into his arms, letting his warmth invade your senses and comfort you

He tentatively begins to rub a hand up and down your back, continuing when you don’t tell him to stop

He’s relieved, in all honesty. He’s relieved he can help you and he’s honored that you let him hug you in such a moment of need

When you finally calm down enough to talk, he draws away to give you some space

His fingers stay connected with yours though, as you won’t let him go

He smiles at this, before pressing a kiss to your head

‘I’m sorry you had such a hard day, sweetheart. I’ll be here as long as you need me to be’

And he is 🖤

Grog

It took Grog a while to understand your reluctance in touch

It wasn’t that he thought it was weird, he just couldn’t read the signals as to how uncomfortable you were with his physical affection and you didn’t want to say anything

Finally, though, you told him about how you weren’t the biggest fan of touching

He nods, but it doesn’t fully register

Still he tries his best to remember, but he forget sometimes

He apologizes when he forgets and you can’t really get mad at him when he’s so genuine

When you come back home from a really rough day, Grog can instantly tell that something is up

He’s not the smartest, but when it comes to your happiness, he’s learned to become more attentive

He also knows that you don’t always want to be touched when you’re like this

(Pike had reminded him enough that it stuck with him)

So he watches you until he really can’t stand the sight of it anymore

‘Can I hug you?’

You look up at him with tears ready to fall and nod

Grog gives the best comforting hugs. He’s gentle but firm and he won’t let go until you ask him to

He’s not perfect, but he’s trying

Percy

Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III was never a man who thrived in touch

He rarely initiated physical contact with you and whenever he did, he asked for your permission first

It was like he already knew about your dislike for touch without you even telling him

(He definitely did. He’s observant enough to see your subtle emotions and tells)

You were perfectly content with a dynamic mostly built on quality time and acts of service, rather than physical affection

This wasn’t always the case though

You had had a particularly hard day at work. There was so much to do and you felt like not enough time to do it all

So, when you walked into Percy’s Tinker Room, he instantly noticed your tense demeanor

He is the king of stress himself, he knows the signs

However he doesn’t know what to do. He knows that he likes to be alone when stressed, but by seeking him out you seem to want to be around him

He contemplates in his head for a moment as you tell him about your day, waiting for you to finish before he stands up and comes over to you

‘May I hug you, darling?’

You immediately look at him, before barreling into his arms

He’s quick to wrap them around you, pressing a light kiss to the crown of your head as he tries to ground you

He’ll hold you as long as you want. He’ll even offer cuddles

Needless to say, he’s done working for the day. You need him and that’s 10x more important than anything else

Scanlan

It took Scanlan awhile to adapt to your feelings on touch

He’s a naturally extroverted person and he’s usually the first to initiate physical contact with anyone, so it’s an adjustment for him

However, once he finds out that it’s even more fun to fluster you with his shitty pick-up lines and love songs, the physical touch thing becomes easier

He slips up every once in a while, but he tries to make it up to you (he is a secret romantic underneath that… sexual persona)

You go find him, sitting with his lute, after an awful day

You were tired, and stressed, and part of you just wanted to go to sleep and wake up when this project you were working on was over

Scanlan knew the minute you walked over to him that something was up

Not wanting to be obvious in his effort to comfort you, and not wanting to touch you when you were clearly already tense, he decided to do what he does best: talk

He began to make small talk, talking about his songs and his day and whatever was going on with his friends

He thought it was working, until you said his name and looked up at him with tired eyes

‘Can I have a hug?’

He was stunned for a moment, obviously not expecting it, but he got over it quickly

He lightly wrapped himself around you, holding you close and just letting it be

It was rare that Scanlan was so silent but, for once, the only sound was breathing

It was a small moment, but it was more than enough for you

Keyleth

Keyleth was awkward at first

Not because she had a hard time without physical affection, but more because she didn’t know what to do in general

Romance was still foreign to her

Still, she read your body language with perfection

You didn’t even need to tell her that you didn’t like physical touch… she just knew

You were thankful for that

It had been a stressful day and you were really just looking forward to hanging out with Keyleth

Sitting in the forest and listening to her talk to the plants always calmed you down

But even as you sat there, the stress didn’t go away

Keyleth noticed immediately, of course

She’s not great at words but she is more than adept at movement

‘…Is it okay if I hug you?’

You looked up with wide eyes and Keyleth immediately backtracks

‘We don’t have to, of course! You just seemed a bit tense and I thought maybe a hug might help be we don’t have to do that if you don’t-‘

She’s cut off by your arms gently wrapping around her waist

She freezes for a moment, before embracing you

It’s warm and comforting and Keyleth suddenly understands why people like doing this so much

She’ll hold you as long as you need. After all, she’s enjoying herself just as much as you are

Vex

Vex’ahlia is the queen of subtle touches

She loved resting a hand on the shoulders of her friends, or bumping into them playfully as they walked

It took a bit of self-control to not do those things with you

It wasn’t hard, per say. It just required a bit more focus and awareness of her movements

But, Vex would do anything for you, so she learned (quickly, as expected)

It was after a fight, while everyone was setting up camp, that Vex noticed the look on your face

It was the same look she saw when you were stuck on a particular puzzle, or when everything seemed to be piling on your shoulders

‘My dear, are you alright?’

You shrug half heartedly

‘Would you like to accompany Trinket and I on a walk? I think it will be quite relaxing and the moon is especially gorgeous tonight.’

Vex waits for your reply when finally you look up

‘Vex, will you hold me?’

Vex doesn’t even falter

Sure, she’s surprised, but the urge to comfort you overrides everything else

She hold you as close as she can without it being uncomfortable, rubbing circles on your back and whispering sweet encouragements into your ear

When you part, she tells you to take your time joining the rest of the party, before turning around and giving hushed threats to anyone who dares make a comment

You hear them, but it’s endearing. It shows that she care.

Pike

Pike is a very affectionate person

Not in the same flirty way as Vax or Scanlan, nor in the subtle way as Vex

Pike was just a very loving woman. Physical affection (including hugs) were just commonplace to her

Which is why she was a little stunned when you told her that you weren’t too fond of physical touch

It was hard for her, at first, because she had to find new ways to express all the love that she had for you, but your comfort came before everything

She always asked before initiating anything and you were always so thankful for that

One day, you came back to find Pike kneeling in the garden, mumbling under her breath

You assumed she was praying (for what, you weren’t sure) but you really needed her

Today had been hell and Pike had always known how to make you feel better

Sitting behind her, you gently rested your head on her shoulder

She tensed, knowing it was you, but confused by the display of touch

Still, she didn’t saying anything

‘Pike…’

She knew with that one call of her name what you needed

‘Do you want me to hug you?’

A small nod was all it took for Pike to spin around and gather you in her arms

Her hugs were like sunshine embodied

You felt all your stress and tension slip away as she held you close

Maybe she was a God herself, with the way she made you feel so safe in her embrace

[differenteagletragedy]

I am afraid worms have invaded my brain and they are eating away at everything that is not OUR LIFE SWAP AU

This is an AU in which Baxter is your best friend that moved in town when you were 8, Cove is the boy from the city you met when you were 13, and Derek is the boy who comes into town for the summer when you're 18. This one is a reworking of the original "Mountains" scene.

OG Swap here -- another part here -- another here -- one more here

In the ten years you'd been friends, you and Baxter had rarely gotten into any arguments. You both just got along so well, and he was agreeable to a fault, always so against being confrontational or divisive. And so for all this time, with maybe just a small handful of hiccups, you'd just gone on easily, having a grand time together.

But that night, as he sat on your bed watching you pack your things to go on a camping trip with Derek, he seemed perfectly willing to fight.

Derek had rented the empty condo across the street from you for the summer. He was a year older than you, a college athlete, and he was doing some private training with a coach in the city. That weekend, he had a few days off and he'd wanted to go camping in the mountains. He'd asked you to join him, and you said yes. He was sweet, and it was easy being around him.

Baxter, meanwhile, was being anything but sweet.

"You're the mountain boy," you told him, trying to pull him out of whatever funk he was in. "What do you think, will I need a jacket?"

"And proper shoes," he said quietly, arms and legs crossed tightly. "You'll want to bring something for the weather too, the forecast is calling for rain."

"What would you suggest? Raincoat? Umbrella? Poncho?"

He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. You waited, but he wouldn't speak.

"What is it?" you asked.

He looked up at you -- a glare, almost -- and said, "I would suggest you not go at all, but it seems you've made up your mind."

"What's the issue with me going?" you asked, getting even more confused than you had been. "I'm not going to be gone for long, just a couple of days."

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

He paused, then, keeping his eyes down this time, said, "You don't know him."

"Derek?" you asked. "Sure I do. We've hung out plenty of times. You've hung out with him too, he's the most harmless guy on the planet."

"But you're going to be going off alone with him, hours away, together in a tent in the middle of the woods," he argued.

"And?"

You studied him, trying to understand why he was reacting so strongly to this. You couldn't see a clear answer on his face, but you did see he was digging his fingernails into his arms.

"Seriously, what's the problem?" you said, sitting down beside him and grabbing his hands so he'd stop. "What's going on?"

Baxter still didn't seem eager to talk about it, but something in him softened when took his hands. He held them gently, running his thumb over your knuckles, and said, "He likes you."

"No, he doesn't," you said quickly, sure that wasn't the case. "We're friends."

"You can't possibly be this oblivious," he muttered, and you yanked your hands away from his.

"If you're going to be rude, then you can leave," you told him, getting angry.

"I'm not trying to be rude, I'm trying to get you to understand that perhaps going off for a jaunt in the woods with the Incredible Hulk that you've known for approximately two minutes isn't the smartest plan."

You'd been getting angry before -- you were fully there now.

"I'm not stupid," you said, standing up again, "and you're being a jerk. What do you think he's going to do, abduct me or something?"

Baxter stood as well, and took a step closer to you. He was so slow to anger, except when he pointed it inward, but it felt like he was staring daggers at you now.

"I just want you to be safe," he said sharply. "I care about you very much, and I --"

"If you care about me, then trust that I can make my own decisions, I'm not some dumb, helpless --"

"I know that!" he said, near yelling, moving closer still. "That's not what I'm saying, you're not listening to me."'

"I am listening to you, you're --"

"You're not," he said firmly, closing the distance between you entirely. "I don't want you to go off with some handsome, well-mannered boy who obviously has feelings for you. That's what I'm saying."

"Why?"

"Because I do know him, and I know exactly how charming he is. I know he wouldn't hurt you, but I ..." he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. His anger was turning into anxiety.

"You what?" you asked, softening. "Please just talk to me, Baxter."

Instead of talking, he took you in his arms. Surprised, you hugged him back. Then you felt his breath, hot against your ear, and he said something so low you barely heard him.

"Please tell me you won't sleep with him," he said.

Appalled, you pushed him off of you. Your anger had returned tenfold.

"What are you talking about?" you asked, the frustration clear in your tone. "I'm not even dating Derek, but it's not any of your business what we do anyway. Why you even care this much?"

He didn't say anything, and he wouldn't meet your eyes again. You knew this phase of the Baxter emotional cycle -- he was shutting down.

"Go home," you said finally.

Without looking at you, he swiftly moved to leave your room. You heard his footsteps go down the hall, and after a moment you heard the front door shut.

Then you heard your phone go off in your pocket.

It was a text from Derek that read, "Hey! Excited for tomorrow?"

"Yep!" you replied. And you were. Baxter wasn't going to ruin that for you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, you met Derek at his condo, and you left bright and early. He was all smiles and laughs and brightness, and the drive to the campsite was fun. It was always fun with Derek.

He took the lead when it was time to set up your things, not wanting you to lift a finger as he put up the tent. You did anyway, of course, and it was obvious how much he appreciated it.

It was getting into the evening after it was all said and done, and Baxter had been right -- the rain did come. Derek didn't mind, he just pulled you into the tent and zipped it up until it passed. And with his warm presence so close, you didn't mind either.

You set about situating your sleeping bags and the other things that you'd brought into the tent with you. When you were done, you still heard the rain falling.

"Guess this is it for tonight," Derek said, not sounding too bothered. "Don't worry, it's supposed to be clear tomorrow. It might be muddy, but I think we'll still have fun."

You smiled at him, happy to be spending the time with him. You hadn't known him too long, Baxter was right about that, and you didn't think he liked you, at least not in a romantic way. But he was a good guy. And it felt nice to be here with him.

"So, how do you want to pass the time?" he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"This is your trip," you told him, playfully nudging his shoulder. "You go first."

"Ok," he said, then approached you. Before you knew it, his arms were locked around your waist, pulling you in tight against him. He smiled, looking proud of himself.

"I made my move," he said. "Your turn."

You pushed everything out of your head -- your fight with Baxter, your years-long crush on him that hadn't gone anywhere for so long you thought it never would. Your reservations, your fears, your nervousness, you shoved it all away and put yourself firmly in the moment.

Then you kissed him.

[foxyarchive]

Glass in the Ocean[P1]

After your grandfather's unexpected death, you find yourself temporarily living with your grandmother until she can find someone else to help her run her shop.

You, and everyone else, have always been taught not to trust mers. Even with this information, you find yourself drawing closer to three mers who have kept themselves hidden from the local populace for years, now. The closer you grow to them, the more you begin to learn about them, and the more the truth begins to unravel.

Was originally supposed to be just some steamy fun times with the boys but I got carried away so there's plot now so it may move a bit fast :,) Hoping for weekly updates!

Cross Posted on AO3!

Warnings: Mention of family death, almost drowning(not really though)

Words: ~5.2k

Tags in the comments! Ask to be added to the taglist!

P1 | P2 | P3

The ocean had always been a force of nature you were afraid of testing your luck with. Tumultuous tornadoes or shrieking storms? Terrifying, sure, but nothing that really got the hair standing on the back of your neck quite like the thought of being lost to the yawning expanse of the sea. There was still so much that was unknown about it, after all. Not only that, but waters were extremely dangerous when filled with such a variety of life; Intelligent, too. 

Sharks were an issue to those who couldn’t keep to themselves. After all, they preferred to stay in their own waters, away from beaches where pesky people invading their space roamed and swam. Jellyfish could be terrifying in their own right, too, along with any seals that happened to be swimming too close and feeling a little too irate at those in the waters. All of those animals had one thing in common, though: Intelligence. Although the creatures held enough intelligence to make decisions of their own(and most were much smarter than humans assumed), most of them acted on instinct. They didn’t purposefully go out of their way to ruin your day, unless something spooked them enough to. Perhaps they were feeling a bit peckish as well– It’s only natural. 

No, the ones who purposefully sought a chance to absolutely fuck over your entire life were the mers. Cruel, intelligent creatures that loved to see nothing more than the suffering of landwalkers. They would pretend to play nice with you, inviting you in with the allure of wanting to learn more about yourself or the world beyond sea; Those that could speak the common coast tongue, at least. It was rare to find a mer who could actually speak any coast tongue, besides a couple of keywords; Namely, those were something like, ‘Help!’, or, ‘Save me!’. Another luring tactic, besides their ethereal looks. Mers were beautiful creatures in the eyes of many. Flawless skin with long, sleek, shimmering tails. It could be easy enough to trick humans into coming closer, and those allured enough fell right into their trap. 

Most mers only had their claws, inhuman strength, swim speed, and fangs, though. Thank God for that, as the very rare, known as ‘sirens’, had the ability to actually put some under a spell. Well, scientifically, it wasn’t actually, technically a spell. It wasn’t quite magic, after all, but the song apparently made chemicals in your brain flood enough dopamine to lure you towards the sensation. A heady, hazy mixture of lust and a false sense of security. Any sirens that were caught out were usually killed on sight. Not all mers were immediately killed, after all. Despite the fear humans had of them, and the staunch irritation, there was a certain balance to the ecosystem to be had… And certain prices to pay for killing a member of a pod. 

All in all, everyone was taught not to trust mers. You weren’t excluded from this, but you never found yourself taking all of these warnings too seriously just because you had no desire to go swimming in the ocean. Any beaches made specifically for human points to swim in were always well guarded by eco-disruptors, and even the occasional patrol boat set with a spear. Anything else beyond that, though? It was a risk to swim, especially alone. Luckily, some areas were less densely populated with mers, which made them booming vacation spots. 

You happened to be visiting one of those areas, but not for vacation. It was a more somber occasion, unfortunately, which would be followed by some work. Your grandfather had just unexpectedly passed away, and you were going to attend the funeral. Thankfully, your job allowed you to work from just about anywhere that had internet. Your grandparents had owned a small shop together after they retired to the coastside; A cute little building with beautiful glass blown and shaped figurines on the boardwalk. It had been something your grandmother loved doing, and you knew that closing it was the last thing she wanted to do. However, you knew she couldn’t keep it open herself. So, then, you decided that you’d help her out for a while until she found somebody who could work with her. 

You weren’t an expert in glass blowing or shaping, by any means, but you’d done it a few times before with her. She was going to take on the brunt of the molding, and you knew you’d only really would need to help with holding and blowing when necessary. It was something you could do between your actual job, so why not? 

It had been a long time since you’d visited the coast; At least, right up on the edge. Your grandmother had her own little house right along the coast, as did many others around here. Something your grandfather had managed to snag years ago, when you could practically buy homes with bubble gum and paperclips. The home was well maintained enough, even if it could use a fresh coat of paint and some reinforcing in parts of it(namely the balcony, some of the wood sagged just a bit too much). If you were handy at all, you’d probably offer to take it on as a side project when you weren’t doing glass blowing or your actual work, but you didn’t trust yourself in the slightest. 

The service was early in the morning. You had driven in the night before, shacking up with your grandmother in the spare bedroom, which you’d come to call home for at least the next week or so. Probably longer. After the service, there had been the reception, which left you rather stuffed full of food, tired of mingling with family you hadn’t seen for a long time, and just tired in general. Getting here had taken a lot out of you, and it wasn’t every day you were so social. It was nice to see some family members you hadn’t seen in awhile, and swapped cherished memories of your grandfather. By the time it was all over, though, you were exhausted. Your grandmother was still out, and your immediate family had invited you to come peruse the town with them, but you declined, too tired. Instead, you headed back to your temporary home to take a nap so you could have dinner with them later in the evening. 

Eyeing the bed as you undressed from your funeral wear, a sudden idea crossed your mind. Peering out of the window, you took in the warm, inviting sky. Blue with fluffy, wispy clouds, you decided on a whim that you would do something you hadn’t done in a long time: You’d go sunbathing. This place was free of mers, after all. The beach was totally safe– Maybe except for some crabs and birds, but you doubted anything was going to come pinching or nipping at you. Decidedly, you put on your swimwear, grabbing a towel and large brimmed sunhat. After lotioning, you put on some flipflops, walking down the small pathway carved into the cliff, down to the beach right outside of the house. It was a quick walk, even if a little unsteady due to the uneven nature of the stone’s cutting, but it was worth the price to have easy access to the beach. 

You walked a little ways from the staircase, opting for some privacy should anyone return to the house early. Last thing you wanted was some annoying cousins throwing bits of plants or rocks down on you if you were right by the staircase. There was a decent sized overhang a good distance from the stairs, forming an alcove, and although you didn’t move to lay under it(you were trying to sunbathe, after all), it offered you some sense of security for whatever reason. Maybe due in part to it technically being ‘shelter’. You rolled out your towel with a flourish, putting your flipflops aside as you settled down with a sigh. The ocean was still a good fifteen feet from you, and you doubted the tide was going to be rising up anytime soon. 

Already beginning to feel more sleepy due to the sun’s rays beaming down, you decided now was as good of a time as ever to finally get some rest. Laying back, you popped your earbuds in, flicking on a playlist. After turning it down reasonably enough, you took a moment to admire the gleaming beast in front of you. It stretched out far beyond your vision, sparkles shimmering atop the vast deep blue. The waves were gentle, foam softly curling up onto the beach, free of any clutter or weeds. A serene smile pulled onto your lips, and for a moment, you thought about possibly swimming later. It was something you rarely ever did, ocean or not, so… Why not do it now that you’ll be local for a bit?

That was definitely later, though. Right now? It was nap time. You laid back, placing the sunhat over your face so the sun wasn’t glaring right onto your closed eyelids. You just hoped there wouldn’t be a significant difference in tan from your face on the rest of your body. Any worries about that quickly vanished as you dozed off, lulled by the sound of your music, encompassing heat, and the faint sound of waves rolling in the distance. 

—

You weren’t entirely certain how long you’d been sleeping for. You didn’t wake naturally, either. The reason you had begun to stir was because you felt droplets on your legs. The comparing cold drew you from your slumber as it continued, making you grumble and shift. It stopped, briefly, and you just assumed that there had been some spray carried by the wind. As you began to drift off one more, it happened again. It felt a little more prominent this time; The drops were fatter, and definitely more annoying. Then, there was more, and it managed to spray across your stomach as well. 

That’s when you finally sighed out, deciding that the wind was not on your side. Grumbling, you spread your arms, back arching in tandem in one long, delicious stretch. A moan of appreciation left your lips, and you found the stretch was so good that you were briefly left winded afterwards. Opening your eyes, you peered up at the sun, grimacing as you held a hand up to shield your vision from it. Wait. Weren’t you wearing your sunhat? Did the wind sweep it away? You took a moment to rub your eyes with the heels of your palms, before sitting up, scanning the area when your vision cleared. 

There were two concerning things, immediately. The first was that you did see your hat, beginning to be pulled along further and further out to sea. The second, much more concerning thing, though, was the creature that was partially washed up on the beach. 

“Oh, f-fuck!” You scrambled, hastily, to your feet. Or, well, you tried to. Your ankles had gotten caught up, tangled in your towel, causing you to just plop right back on your ass in the sand. The mer partially lounging let out something that you were certain was a laugh, and you weren’t sure whether to be cross or terrified. A mix of both, perhaps, as your eyes landed back on it. It– He, you were certain– Was partially out of the water, looking quite lazy. Well, if at least one thing was true about mers, it was their beauty. 

You were certain this was the most attractive creature you’d ever laid eyes on. He was lean and muscled, skin lightly sunkissed in a sense where he had a faint tan, but still didn’t seem quite as tan as you’d heard other frequently breaching mers were. His jaw was sharp, and so were his cheekbones, and he had this roguish, very handsome smirk on his face as his eyes met with yours. They were a beautiful, alluring umber, adding to the gorgeously tousled mop of hair atop his head that was a slightly lighter shade. Although all of that was most certainly attractive… You found your eyes trailing downward, taking in the sight of his tail. 

Long and slick, you couldn’t see all of it, as half of it was still submerged in the water. What you did catch, though, was that his scales were a glossy navy blue with a pretty pattern of blue yonder interrupting them. It was then you noticed he had some scales on his ribs, as well as on his hands and cheeks. It didn’t make him look any less unattractive, though, and was it weird that you kept referring to him as attractive? Probably. He was a mer, but damned if he wasn’t hot. You didn’t even notice that his lips were moving until you spied the faint activity out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t hear him, earbuds still softly playing music. 

“What?” You asked after you popped them out, trying to clear the haze from your mind that you convinced yourself was definitely shock and not anything else. He looked amused, lips curling up further, revealing a set of slightly sharpened teeth. 

“I said, if you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Oh, God, he’d totally caught you ogling. He didn’t seem to mind, though; In fact, he was practically preening under the attention as he turned onto his back, stretching out his lithe form. His tail curled up from the water, briefly, and you caught sight of the beautiful fin at the end; Long and elegant, but still webbed and strong enough to where you were sure he was a formidable swimmer like his kin. “I can pose, if you’d like.” He turned his head to the side, accentuating his delicious jawbone, and you noticed now his ears were a bit pointed at the end, scaled as well. Your cheeks immediately heated up, and you found yourself stammering, trying to assure him that, no, you weren’t going to take any pictures and you totally didn’t feel super attracted to a mer. 

Before any of that came to your lips, though, a sudden realization hit you: He was talking to you. 

“Y… You speak coast tongue?” You asked, a little astounded. That was so rare for mers, especially in areas where so few of them resided. Apparently, there had been less than five spotted here in the past six years, which meant that there were none. And yet, you happened to find one on your first day here, and he spoke your language? What were the odds?

“No.” He replied, rolling onto his stomach. You noticed a small fin on his lower back that shivered a bit under the ocean’s breeze. He rested his head on his arm, drawing a pattern in the sand with slightly webbed hands as his eyes took you in. He looked like a big, lazy, content cat. Not a care in the world. There was another flash of merriment in his eyes as he noticed your confused expression, before he gave another soft laugh as you realized he was fucking with you. They really were intelligent beings…

“That’s your hat out there. Right?” He asked, pushing himself up with an elbow, jerking his head in the direction of your floating clothing article. Stupefied, you blinked, merely giving a nod of your head. You didn’t trust your words. Was this a dream? “I can get it for you. If you’d like.” You didn’t know how to respond. All you knew was one thing that kept creeping up in the back of your head: Never trust a mer. This was literally all the signs of a mer trying to garner your attention and lure you in, from what you recalled. Looking alluring. Playing nice. Asking questions. This was the biggest red flag if you’d ever seen one. 

Clearly, he could read the hesitation on your face, and he let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “I don’t have to. I was just offering. Is it so wrong to want to be nice?” Your gaze hardened a bit, and you brought your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. He was still a good fifteen feet away from you. Even if he tried to advance on you, you were certain that being able to run was in your books faster than he could drag himself ashore to you. Well… Mers did have inhuman strength, so… Maybe that wasn’t quite out of the books. 

“Okay. Go get it.” You finally agree, suspicion still heavy in your gaze as you take in his facial features. He looked a bit smug, before rolling over once, and then slid back into the water. Once he was settled in it, he was gone with a whisper, and all was quiet once more. Your gaze found your hat, much further now than it was before. Nothing was happening… Nothing until you blinked, and it was gone. You looked around for any sight of the mer, spotting nothing until you saw the faint glimmer beneath the waves. He broke water as quiet as a mouse compared to the rolling of waves in the distance and on shore, your now sodden sunhat in his hand. You frowned a bit at the sight. “You had to drag it underwater?”

He seemed wholly unimpressed with your comment, frowning himself, a faint look of irritation crossing his features. “You’re welcome.” Is what he replies with, scoffing as he holds it out in front of him whilst he pulls himself back onto the shore. The perturbed look on his face is quickly replaced with another grin as he spies your hesitation. “...If you want your hat back, you need to come get it from me.” He purrs, waving the sodden article in your direction. You grimace, feeling annoyed at the proposition. Of course. That was his game. 

“I’m not an idiot, you know.” You bite out, and he sets the hat down, tilting his head to the side. He has this adorable curl that crosses over his forehead with a few other strands. 

“I never implied you were.” He responds, smiling peacefully, and you glower. 

“Obviously you think I am, though. As soon as I come over there, you’re just going to drag me under with you. No shot.” You insist, and he clicks his tongue, offering an unimpressed roll of his eyes. 

“Really? Come on. I wouldn’t do that.” He insists, rounding his eyes in what you assume is supposed to be a more ‘innocent’ manner. “Why would I go all the way out to retrieve your lovely hat, only to immediately kill you? I think you’ll look lovely in it, wet or not.” He purrs again, curling his lips up once more, and your scowl deepens. 

“That was hardly a swim for you.” Comes your flat reply, body prickling in uncertainty. “It'd probably be the easiest meal you’d ever get.”  “Please, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want to eat you; I’ve already had lunch.” He narrows his eyes, and you shudder softly against your will as you notice the more carnal look in them. “...Unless, of course, you’d like to provide me with a treat. That would be probably the best ‘thank you’ I could get.” You consider that he really is talking about ravaging your body, until you realize his eyes are pointedly staring at your crotch between your pulled up legs. Then, his eyes travel to your lips, before meeting your own. A sudden heat travels through your body that leaves you holding a breath. He takes the opportunity to shift forward a bit more, and that immediately brings you out of your stupor. 

“J-Just throw the hat forward! Please…” You ask, voice trembling a bit from the combination of soft lust and fear crowding your mind. “Thank you for getting it, but I… I can’t… I don’t trust you. Surely you understand.” You insist, one of your hands coming down to grip the towel. His lips come to form a thin line, and you’re not so certain the dark look in his eyes is as lustful as it was before. Your time is definitely up, now, and you quickly scramble to your feet. You grab your earbuds, phone and towel, beginning to walk back the way you came, but his voice stops you. 

“Wait!” Looking back, you see that he’s tossed the hat a couple of feet from him, and he’s pulled himself back just a bit. His tail is further in the water than before, he’s peering at you, gaze brighter than before, but definitely more unreadable. “...I understand your distrust.” He relents, and you hesitate for the third time this meeting, uncertain if you should take the bait. You still had the advantage on land… Is your cute hat really worth risking your life, though?

You look back at him. He’s just watching you now, a sort of benign curiosity over his own features. Maybe… He was just as curious about you as you were him. Clearly he’s had contact with humans before, though. He wouldn’t be able to speak otherwise. This is all a trap. You convince yourself, body stiff as you consider what to do next. You could just order another one… But it was perfect for here and now. You could just buy more in town, though… 

You consider that your life isn’t worth risking over a hat. And yet, you find yourself placing your items on the ground, your feet slowly inching towards the wet article. The mer watches your every move, head low to the ground, and your eyes are following the way his tail twitches beneath the waves. You look at his hands. He’s rested his head on them now. That assuages some fears… Maybe he really wasn’t going to do anything. Was he so bored that he just wanted to see you closer? Use you for amusement? Perhaps. That wasn’t the most egregious sin, though… 

You’re finally close enough to the hat, slowly bending down to reach it, as if trying not to spook him. He doesn’t move. You grab the brim, slowly bringing it up. For a moment, you find yourself just looking at him, and he’s looking at you. He’s even more gorgeous close up, now that you notice all of the little freckles and imperfections that dot his face. The only other ‘imperfection’ you could find, if you could call any of it imperfect(which you really couldn’t), was the small scar gouged into his forehead.

For once, instead of fear or any sort of weird arousal, you feel… Awe. This dangerous, beautiful creature sits not five feet from you, drinking you him as you do him. He has a sort of boyish charm to him that is enough to make you test your own willpower and suppress yourself from reaching forward to brush your fingers through his hair. Comb back those hairs that curl in front of his eyes, brush your thumb across the beautiful scales on his cheek bones… 

Seems you’ve been enthralled, and you’re not quick enough to move as he suddenly lunges and grabs onto your wrist. You cry out in surprise, molasses quickly turning into a rapid stream as you try to pull away, but he’s strong. Dear God, is he strong. “I helped you. The least you can do is return the favor.” He finally speaks up, and that look of wonderment that was in his own eyes has vanished. He looks smug like before, smirk planted as he tugs you a bit closer. 

“P-Please, let go!” You cry out again, trying to wrench free to no avail. 

“I just want one, little thing, then I’ll let you go. I promise.” He insists, leaning up a bit, his eyes flashing with that same dangerous intent as before. When he was looking at you like you were his next meal. His ‘treat’. Another shudder wracks your body against your will, and you bite your lip. “Just a kiss. Only one. That’s it. Please?” He tilts his head to the side, eyes rounding a bit into something akin to a puppy. Oh, no… That was awfully convincing, especially with that heat still in his eyes. 

Okay. You had been a fool once, shame on you. But twice? You were not going to die here today. Most certainly, no kiss was worth dying for, and you knew better than to trust his words, now. His grip was painful, only because he was strong, but he didn’t claw at your arm or wrist, thankfully. 

“...If you let me go, I’ll kiss you.” You finally said, quietly, heart thundering in your chest. He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, eyeing you to try and find any deception. Finally, he pushed himself up a bit more, giving a small incline of his head in agreement. Slowly, he released your hand, letting it come to rest in front of his chest. You were so very grateful that the Lord had granted you the strength to go through with your plan and resist that very kissable face. 

As soon as he released you, you turned on foot and fled. Or, that’s what you tried to do, but he was so fast. He grabbed onto your ankle, jerking you back, and you fell with a painful gasp. A wheeze left your chest as you struggled for breath, but you realized you needed to struggle now to not be pulled into the water. He was beginning to drag you, laughing all the way, and you shrieked in fear, desperately trying to claw your hands into the sand. You were so, so stupid. Why the fuck would you do that? Why did you have to go back for your hat? Why did you have to stand there and admire him? 

“H-Help! P-Please, no! Let me go, let me go!” You shrieked, feeling hot tears begin to roll down your face as fear bloomed through your entire being. You tried to kick and pull, but he was easily able to evade your swats or keep you held tight. Whereas before, with your wrist, he was being careful, he most certainly was not with your ankle. You felt his nails digging into you, and you realized that this probably really was the end. Mers had the capability of releasing a neurotoxin that could easily make your mind and body go numb if enough was administered, and you were almost certain that was happening to you as you felt a cold flush through your system. You didn’t think it was the waves hitting your body, after all. 

“Stop! S-Stop, please, I– I’ll s-stay away, I promise!” You sobbed, feeling the water now up to your chest as you thrashed and pleaded with the mer. You wondered if he’d kill you here on shore, devour the best bits of you and leave your carcass to float along. At least then your family would know what happened to you. Perhaps, instead, he’d drag you further into the water, play with you until you just couldn’t fight back anymore, then he’d pull you down with him and drown you. Would it hurt? What did drowning feel like? All of these morbid thoughts floated into your mind as you fought and twisted and tried to claw at him, but nothing was working. You sputtered as water entered your mouth and nose, and your sob was bubbling as you once again shrieked hopelessly for help. 

This is it. There was a reason you didn’t you never wanted to fuck with the ocean, and yet you did. You had entirely fucked around, and now were finding out. What a fool you were. The shore was becoming further away, and you couldn’t let out anymore loud calls for help with water constantly invading your mouth, but you noticed he wasn’t drowning you. So… He was playing with his food first, then. Maybe you could do something about it. Catch him off guard. Go for the gills, or the eyes, or–

There was a whoosh beneath your body. Another bubbling shriek of terror left your lips, before something emerged behind you. There was an instant chittering of furious clicks that caught your ears, exchanged back and forth as you were tugged and pulled, and you suddenly realized there were two of them, now. Fuck. How many more were there? 

You expected to feel the rip and tear of your flesh, likely being fought over for food, but instead found the pressure around your ankle disappearing. You flounder, still feeling too paralyzed with fear and a hearty dose of adrenaline to make your limbs coordinate with what you wanted to do. There was a hiss, before you cried out again as an arm was wrapped around your torso, pulling you to another slick body. You fought and kicked, but all you stubbed your foot into was pure muscle of another mer tail. 

“Stop fighting me, please! I’m going to help you back to shore.” The voice piped up, sounding both a mixture of weary and fearful itself. 

“I can take her back; I was just messing around! I swear, I wasn’t gonna kill her!” Came the other mer’s voice, and although you noticed they sounded eerily similar, you pinpointed that one as the one that had dragged you. You fought and pushed against the mer holding onto you, but you did notice that you were being brought closer to the shore. You paddled as well, partially in an attempt to get away, partially to try and go faster, you figured. There was no response from one you were close to, but there didn’t need to be one. Soon, you felt your feet hit the sand, and you instantly pushed yourself away from him. 

It was a big of a slog to get through the water at your hips, but you managed probably the fastest you had ever done. You almost tripped once, but finally made it back to shore, chest heaving and ankle burning as you glanced behind you. You could see the mer that had dragged you out in the distance, a look of something akin to frustration on his face. What shocked you the most, though, was the mer that had taken you to shore. 

He looked just like the other mer. Identical down to the eye and hair color and facial features. The only real difference you could find was that he looked just a bit more pale, and his overall features were somehow a bit softer, his hair not as wild. You couldn’t see his tail, but from what you could gleam from the scales on his cheeks, they were a lighter blue. He watched you, a concerned look on his face as you backed away. Tears were still streaking down your cheeks, and you fought to keep walking, trembling as he swam a bit closer. “I’m sorry for what he did. If you’d let me explain–” He begins to speak, but you’ve most certainly had enough. 

You turn, leaving your stupid hat behind that got you into this mess in the first place. You have the forethought to grab your towel and phone, because they’re far enough away. You don’t put on your flipflops and don’t feel your earbuds tumble out of your towel as you hurry down the sand. There’s more angry clicks in the background which sends a chill right up your spine, but you don’t look back, even as they recede into the distance and vanish.

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 18

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

When the sips so good it goes straight to your ears; chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

You were looking at baby formula and pondering.

You did this sort of thing more often than not when you got the rare moment alone.

You weren’t embarrassed about it, but when you had the chance, you ducked into any aisle that had contents geared toward the baby. From looking at infant medicine at the drugstore to spying diapers when you slipped away to grab toothpaste, you had to stare. There were a plethora of brands that you knew would soon be sorted through for consumption. Knowing your mate, you bet there was already a preliminary list being tallied, but there were too many unknowns in your 20th week of pregnancy to choose quiet yet, so you wondered.

Would your baby need milk?

No one had any idea.

It was what made these little sessions so alluring. You could fantasize about all the ways it could go without the stakes of another person. Donnie didn’t particularly count and you and him had looked on fondly towards some jarred baby food the other day, but you still liked slivers of time to yourself. It was a judgment free space where you could wonder if the milk you would eventually produce was viable. You could see yourself both nursing or preparing formula and you didn’t think less of either option.

It wasn’t your body’s fault, however it went.

You were gestating something with needs that were difficult to ascertain. Even now, past the point of supposed danger, there was a certain amount of concern. That eggshell continued to propagate on one side of your fetus and you were getting clearer and more baby-like images with each OBGYN visit. There appeared to be some plastron points on the front and that sparked yet another thing you supposedly shouldn’t have been able to manifest.

Dr. Kuro had made a joke about it being a marvel your body didn’t reject the invader as a cluster of foreign cells. Both you and Donnie felt comfortable enough to yell at the woman for saying so in such a casual manner. She tittered at you both. Your baby was safe, she assured, though there was yet another adjustment to your vitamin intake in anticipation of its ever evolving needs.

Your baby.

Your baby.

You could think that now.

You could do it openly.

The curve of your body was no longer your own guts.

It was your baby.

It was still relatively easy to conceal with your clothes, but it was there.

It was undeniable.

It was Donnie’s and your child and you were so overcome that your head bowed right there among a sea of formula options.

You breathed as evenly as you could and blew out the rest.

You weren’t going to keep getting teary at the constant revelation.

You were okay.

You were pregnant.

You hummed lightly to yourself and sighed into a chuckle.

You guessed there was also a chance that your baby wouldn’t have either formula or milk. It could go straight to solid foods even if that seemed like an odd thing to imagine. That was how baby turtles were; you pictured a small humanoid creature who you had just birthed sitting in a car seat and nibbling on a leaf of romaine.

You chuffed at the mental image and heard heels squeak.

It pulled your attention to the side where you watched a large man backtrack to look at you.

“Hypno!” You shouted and moved to him.

“Y/N!” He caught your hand and bowed to it with a flourish.

You giggled. “What are you doing?”

“Right!” He popped up, but didn’t let go. “Smoothies! Per your suggestion, I was trying the fare here!”

“You mean the ones in the café by the door?” You tilted your head knowingly.

“Quite…” He dragged out the phrase before releasing you and making a big show of looking around himself. “Hygiene and frozen foods... How the devil did I get here?”

You shared a snicker before walking with him to where he had obviously had a cart going.

“Alright, you’ve caught me! I was bewitched by fanciful products! You know I’ve been in the States for most of my life and I still haven’t gotten past America’s taste for decadence. These schmick grocers always get me!” He pulled his basket over. “Look here. They’ve got these large tubs of seaweed salad, one of my favorites and look at this edible clay!” He held up a red bag.

Your lips parted as you read over the sparse packaging.

“Warren will just love it!” He gushed.

The worm eating it was one thing, but you were left baffled as to why this was marketed as a supposed grocery store item. “I’m sure.”

“And bulk pallets of wheatgrass!” He continued on.

You didn’t see anything like that in his cart. “Oh?”

“I’ll grab it by the door on the way out!” He spoke a little too quickly.

Without ever having established it, you knew that was code for stealing and relieved yourself of judgment. “You getting into a health craze, too?”

“What’s that?” He blinked at you from where he was staring fondly at his choices.

“It seems like everyone I know is into something right now. A few of my friends, I’ve been doing Pilates, that kind of thing.”

He made a little animalistic snort to give you his attention. “Oh, no, nothing of the sort! I crave plants. Must be some semi-aquatic mammalian trait. I never thought much of the stuff before, but you add a dash of Doug and you get all new taste buds!”

You had to think for a moment. “Your mutation.”

“Right.” He nodded with a smile. “What about you?” He obviously looked around your person for a basket. “What sort of oddities did this house of enchantments beckon you with?”

You became painfully aware of the aisle you had just come from.

It was alright, you had to remind yourself.

You had passed the window of safety.

You were secure.

You could tell anyone you wanted.

You could tell.

The thought shook you a little more than you liked to admit.

As odd as it felt, you almost wanted to keep it to yourself.

You had weathered all manner of despair and anxiety to get to this point.

Yet you still snuck off for moments of joy alone.

It seemed obvious to ruminate on why, but it was also palpable. 

You had been through too much.

Though you knew every parent's journey was different and there was no comparison, for you it was a trial. From the months of trying to get pregnant to the terror of succeeding, even now you weren’t really free from concerning shackles. You had simply moved to a tentative neutrality where the many unknowns were managed by what was basically a think tank. A legion of people were interested in you and your baby’s safety and with that nothing felt like your own.

You were bound to lose more autonomy.

As soon as the bump became more of a belly, others would know or have their suspicions. The choice of who to tell would be robbed of you and that seemed more than enough reason to tell others on your own time. It would be your only way of taking back some control, but you resented that. You wanted to tell people because you wanted to share your joy, not because you were trying to get ahead of some information leak deadline.

You decided right then not to mention it.

Not because you didn’t adore Hypno.

Not because you didn’t want him to know.

For the time being, for this happy sliver, you wanted your baby all to yourself.

It was your bell pepper after all.

It helped that its comparison vegetable could be as green as your spouse and you looked upon Hypno from the paltry seconds you had taken to yourself. “Pretty much the same! I came for the smoothies and stayed to look around.”

Hypno tittered in a way that fluttered his ears. “It’s truly bizarre! Forty-two dollars for water? Why?! How?!”

You wheezed lightly. “Seriously? Who buys groceries here? Where was that?”

“I’ll say! This way! Come look!” He led you and you both talked casually on the way.

You pointed out objects to one another and scoffed at the prices.

Hypno was compelled to pluck a few more items, but you eventually made it halfway across the store.

“Is that mayonnaise?” You reached for a jar in a refrigerated case.

“Is it?” Hypno bobbed behind you even though he could clearly look over your head.

“It’s coconut yogurt…” You read the label. “Why is it jarred like this?”

“It’s unpasteurized too.” Hypno squinted around you as if he needed readers. “If it’s vegan, why does it need to be boiled?”

It felt like holding poison so you put it back. “Twenty-five dollars. Wow.”

“Think we’ve had enough of this. Smoothie time?” Hypno squeezed the cart he dwarfed.

“Smoothie time.” You agreed and headed with him in that direction.

“Pilates, eh?” He asked genially.

“Yeah. It sounds kind of pretentious when I say it here.”

“Better than hot goat yoga!” He chuckled to himself.

“Is that your secret?” You teased as you approached the café and looked over a menu.

He did the same. “Now that’s a room rife for mutation. I doubt they’d need flash paper! They’d come out of the steam with the ability to breathe fire!”

“You got actual magic from being a magician, right?”

“Who knows!?” His hands went up and he manifested a ring for the sake of it.

He offered it to you and you were careful of its razor sharp edge. “Did Warren get… news… related powers?”

Hypno snorted.

“No?” You feigned surprise and gave him his ring back.

It disappeared into his touch. “His sparkling on-screen personality was something he already possessed!”

“Right…” You tried not to roll your eyes. “How are you two doing?”

“Good!” He held a cutesy hand up to his chin to daydream. “It’s been lovely these days. Communication is on the up and up!”

“I’m glad.” You brushed your arm with his.

“He’s outside, actually.” Hypno addressed you with a bright smile.

“He didn’t want to look around with you?”

“He dislikes this sort of shopping. We all hang on to something from the before times. His is having his bits and bobs catered. Thinks grocery shopping is beneath him.”

You shrugged as you guessed that made enough sense.

“Though… I said outside, but he’s probably in that television station. No doubt still trying to get his own program.” He smiled fondly.

You made a little startled noise as you rotated to face him fully.

That was where Donnie was.

Unlike Warren and his incessant ulterior motives, your mate was upfront and honest with you.

He was tired of smoothies.

While he still happily employed the juicer, he had grown tired of the menagerie of mix-ins. Unlike your palate, his could parse out the many flavors and he grew fatigued from the overload. He opted most often for single blends and only went as far as doubles on days when he was feeling a bit more adventurous. Otherwise it was bland juices for him, which was fine.

When Coral had mentioned these grossly expensive smoothies, you had joked about getting one just for the cost. For Donnie, that alone was more than enough reason to go. You had a feeling he was preparing for cravings, though you hadn’t particularly noticed anything like that just yet. Until your first hankering kicked in, it seemed your husband was cataloging your mentions.

He made the extravagant trip worthwhile for both your sakes by saying he was going to check in on some sort of ad issue. Genius Built acted like most parent companies and thus never advertised themselves directly. Instead, their subsidiaries did when necessary. The company logo would appear at the end of commercials, but one had run recently had some kind of issue. Your mate still liked to throw his weight around once in a while to perpetuate the mythos of Genius Built’s haunting creator. He liked to pop in unannounced at all levels of production and today just so happened to be marketing via the TV station.

“What’s that expression?” Hypno was eyeing you.

“I’ll give you one guess where my husband is.”

Instead of outwardly acting, Hypno simply closed his eyes. “They never did get on.”

“Nope.”

“Let’s purchase our bevs before we deal with them.” He strategically left his cart just outside the café and walked to the counter.

You followed after. “You getting the wheat grass one?”

“How did you know?!” He gave you a cheeky grin. “Now see here, blender master!”

The employee looked at Hypno without an ounce of emotion.

“Your finest grasshopper concoction, s'il vous plait!” Hypno smacked the counter.

The employee blinked once and shifted their pupil to you.

“The collagen one?” You asked.

Instead of responding, they rung you up.

You went to pay. 

Hypno was bigger and faster than you in every way so when his hand shot out, he slipped beneath your card to tap his own. 

You pouted. 

This was a man that was stealing groceries; you weren’t about to let him pay for something this wasteful considering. 

“That’s too much!” 

“There, there. Too slow, as they say.” He dismissed you with a pat to your shoulder. “What’s a gift for old friends?” 

“I guess if that’s your only expense.” You sighed and moved to sit.

“What’s that?” Hypno asked with clear nerves.

“Huh? Nothing.” You chirped.

He moved to change the subject. “Right, well, what’s this about collagen? Minding the skin, eh?”

“Y-yup!” You cursed yourself for the surprised stutter.

It wasn’t an unusual health fad.

Anyone who worried about aging used the product just as much.

“Think I’d benefit…?” Hypno lightly pulled his cheek.

You popped a vowel before rushing to his attention. “I mean maybe! It can help, but it’s not like you need it!”

“True…” He put his skin back in place. “I’ve heard it’s good for joints. Do you know anything about that?”

“Uh, yeah! It is…!” You had to reframe your phrasing so it wasn’t about pregnancy. “It helps with nutrient absorption and ligaments… I think.”

“You said ‘craze’ earlier.” He dropped his arm. “Is it a fad diet?”

“Maybe…? There’s definitely science to it. I’m not sure if collagen spiked creams are better for your skin than taking a supplement though…”

“So much to think about.” He chuffed. “Getting old! Bah!”

You softened some. “You’re not that old.”

“Don’t start!” He complained and crossed his legs in a huff of irritation. “I’ve heard it all. I’m ancient and you will accept it!”

“No!” You fussed.

“It’s maintenance!” His head lolled. “I keep these old bones as fresh as I can. You’re good to start now! It’ll make a world of difference. I wish I’d kept up in my youth like you.”

“Sure…” You sounded guilty and you could only thank Hypno’s poor perception skills.

“Hey, now…” He was in motion.

Your heart rate jumped. 

You thought he might ask and you would surely grumble, but he was clearly focused on something else. 

His displeasure sat with your smoothies on the counter where the server had never called out a sound that they were ready. 

“Certainly not paying for service.” He went to get them and brought your drink back for you.

“They didn’t say anything?” You took the cold cup.

“Not in the slightest!” Hypno let one of his ears twitch. “Let’s go wrangle our spouses.”

“Oh yeah…” You had almost forgotten you had an ordeal to tend to.

Hypno took one satisfied taste of his drink before he belched out satisfaction. 

“But first…” He led.

You waited for him as you sucked on your straw and got the first taste of iced goodness.

“I need to pay… yes, pay for all my goods from the place of service. You should scout it out. The talent agencies are always after me, you know! You put on several good shows and everyone is chomping at the bit to get the first on screen interview!” He prattled on.

You looked over him with a slight wobbling of your form as you tried to keep in a laugh. “Sure. You got it, Hypno.”

He had slight offense and turned it away toward his cart. “Hurry now! Before we both garner that kind of notoriety! Famous spouses and all!”

You doubted there was any way Donnie would allow such a thing, but you pretended to pick up speed.

You exited at a relaxed pace and checked your smoothie with a bob of your straw. It was pretty good, but not as good as its price suggested. You went back to sucking it casually as you headed down the sidewalk. Almost immediately, you spied your husband’s black coat as he stared up at the neighboring building’s exterior. As you got closer he seemed to be spacing out and he had a cat carrier clutched in his hand.

You guessed the contents before you got close enough to hear the hissing.

“Let me out right this instance you Boysenberry Bruise! No amount of make-up will cover your ugly mug when I’m done with-!!!”

Donnie turned to look at you.

You signed a greeting with one hand as you assumed he had turned his implants off.

He signed back in a way that said you were correct.

“What’s going on!? What’s with the weird code!? You think I don’t know hand signals!? How do you think we start a broadcast!!”

You blinked in a wide show at Warren’s volume.

‘How’s Hypno?’ Donnie asked with his hands.

‘Good.’ You responded while juggling your drink. ‘He’s stealing some groceries.’

‘They aren’t very well off.’ Your husband was nonplussed.

‘He got the smoothies.’

‘I’ll repay him.’ He nodded. ‘How is it?’

‘It’s alright, but not twenty plus dollars alright. How’d this happen?’ You pointed at the carrier.

Warren’s little arms would flail out from between the bars every so often.

‘He tried to hijack the airwaves.’

‘Fun.’ You drank loudly.

“Hey! What is that?!” Warren’s green eyes flashed as he wriggled around his carrier.

You didn’t bother with him. ‘Get the commercial fixed?’

‘Yes. Thankfully.’

‘Good.’

“Is that a smoothie?” Warren finally found an angle where he could see you.

“Yeah. I got a collagen one.”

“Why!? You don’t need it! You aren’t even going on camera!” The worm huffed.

“And you are?” You looked at him and smirked around your straw.

His arms shot out as he tried to grab you.

He had less than an inch of reach and wasn’t anywhere near you, but Donnie bounced the case.

He rattled inside and cussed up a storm.

People took a wide berth around you on the sidewalk.

“If you didn’t have five seconds in the spotlight with my husband, then I swear!!!”

“Swear what?!” A large and unmistakable aura appeared behind you. 

Warren squeaked silent.

“How’s your smoothie?” Hypno dropped his loom and came around your side to set his bags down.

“Good!” You were almost done.

“Not really worth it though, eh?” He made a squished face.

“Not at all.” You agreed. “Did they skimp on the grass?”

“No! Surprisingly!” He smiled and looked at his drained cup. “A good ratio, it’s just I would need four times the size anyway, and the cost.”

“Lunch?” Donnie asked with a swing of his body to face you both.

“If you didn’t ask then I would have!” Hypno cheered and then squatted down to the carrier. “Love, how are you doing? Calm enough for a meal?”

“Calm enough!? You are not leaving me in here!!”

“A place that allows pets?” Hypno stood cheerily.

“I saw some dogs at a place over there.” You pointed.

“Perfect. Shall we?” Hypno gathered his bags.

Donnie nodded.

You all moved to walk while Warren continued to spit up a storm.

“What about fish oil?” Hypno asked amongst the noise.

“I’ve been eating more fish actually.” You told him.

Donnie glanced at your moving mouths, but it appeared to be too much while also walking.

You watched him tap the side of his head and blink rapidly as Warren’s volume washed over it.

“It’s like heavy metals on one side and chemicals on the other.” You went on in your explanation.

“You know I took a school trip to the Trout hatchery once.”

“Trout…?” You tried to remember what you learned about that one.

“Oh, there’s this tinned one that’s smoked!” Hypno hummed happily.

An image of him trying to pick open the tiny containers flashed in your mind. “Now that’s something that’s not worth the price!”

“You have no idea!” Hypno descended on you with commiseration. “They should make those in bulk!”

You chuckled at the thought. “Maybe one of those bulk stores?”

“But then transportation!”

“On the subway!?”

Hypno groaned.

“Tinned fish.” Donnie murmured. “If we avoid shellfish…”

You flicked a warm glance at your husband.

“I know that line!” Hypno shared some kind of joke with you.

You looked him up curiously.

“That’s a man that’s had food poisoning!” Hypno flicked his head to Donnie. “We’ve all been there. The allure of oysters!”

“Oh, that’s not-”

Donnie scoffed. “I’d scent rotten product.”

“Oh!” Hypno was rueful toward your husband before he looked at you. “You suffered then? An awful blight.”

“No…”

“Then what’s this? Don’t tell me he sniffs everything you eat?”

You opened your mouth to clear the confusion.

“Of course, I do!” Donnie was clearly insulted. “Don’t insinuate control. There is none. It’s safety. It’s clearance of bacteria, virus, and chemical on consumables. Endless contamination that in other instance would be digested, but with an infant, they filter! When it comes to our child’s safety, it’s pittance!”

Hypno stopped abruptly.

You followed close and smacked a hand to your face.

You heard Donnie grunt out a confused note.

“Wait…” Warren finally quieted. “Wait, wait…!” 

“Y/N…?” Hypno was clearly prompting you.

You peered through your fingers at him.

“Does that mean…?” Warren wondered.

“Did you… not…?” Donnie was growing pale.

“No…” You murmured. “I didn’t… tell him.” 

“So that was…!?” Warren shuffled in the carrier.

“Y/N…!” Hypno went on.

“Hypno, I’m sorry that wasn’t…!”

There was a slam on plastic that caused Donnie to falter.

The carrier fell from his hand and banged against the ground.

The solid strike was enough that something jostled and Warren was able to pinch the lock open and free himself.

He stood atop the carrier and stared at you with huge eyes. “You’re knocked up!!”

You closed your fingers. “Please…!”

“He knocked you up!” You could hear Warren pointing.

“Y/N…” Donnie tried.

“No… It’s fine. I was going to tell them. I just…” You interjected.

You finally looked at Hypno, ready with a proper apology, only to find him openly weeping.

“Ah!” You drew out a soft scream and went to him. “I’m so sorry. I swear I wasn’t trying to keep it from you! It wasn’t like a big secret! Well, it was, but it’s not anymore! I just hadn’t-!”

“A baby!!” Hypno choked out the phrase.

“Y-yeah…”

“That’s wonderful news!!!” You were scooped up in what you thought might be a crushing hug, but Hypno was a gentle giant around you.

You were still bewildered and sent that to your mate.

He was beside you in an instant.

The moment his hands rose, Warren saw a threat and moved himself.

“Touch him and we’ll see who calls cut.” Warren readied himself at Donnie’s throat.

“He has my spouse!” Donnie snarled.

“It’s o-okay!” You were jostled, but delicately cradled in Hypno’s arms. “He’s not mad! I think he’s-”

“A baby! A baby!” Hypno bellowed happily before he snatched up Warren to squeeze the life out of him in his other arm. “Do you hear that, love?! A baby! Oh, I never thought I’d get to dote on one! I always wanted kids, but it wasn’t in the cards! Oh, Warren!”

The worm retched from where he was about to be crushed.

He was immediately released and switched to wheezing in Hypno’s palm. 

You hugged Hypno as best you could.

It brought on another wave of tears.

Donnie sighed against your side and refused to move.

“I should have told you!” You felt similar tears prick your eyes.

“No! I’m sure you have your reasons! You aren’t even showing! How far along are you?”

“20 weeks!”

“I never liked how they measured that in weeks!” Hypno weeped.

You followed suit and laughed. “Always converting it is such a pain…”

“Promise me you won’t do that thing when the little one turns a year! ‘They’re eighty-three weeks old!’ That means nothing!”

“Sure!” You sniffled.

“This is cause for celebration!” Hypno hollered and set you down. “An eatery for dogs is nowhere near swank enough!”

“We don’t have to-!” You fused as he had already splurged on those smoothies. 

“I insist!” Hypno smiled and made sure you were sturdy against your spouse before checking on his own.

“The turtle offered. it’s on him.” Warren fixed his hair. “Well pick the place.” 

“That alright?” Hypno gave an affectionate whine. 

“Yeah, yeah!” Warren finished preening and sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me? If you wanted a baby so bad, we could have taken one whenever!”

“Stop that!” Hypno thumbed him.

“You stop! I’m serious!” Warren shoved the digit.

“I know you are! Taking a child! That is beneath us.”

“You maybe…” Warren spoke out of the corner of his mouth. “You know what baby kissing does for publicity?”

Hypno rolled his eyes. “We’ll need to mind the menu, is that right? Is there somewhere suitable?”

“It’s not that intense.” You laughed it off and wiped your eyes.

“He just poison tests your meals?” Hypno arched a cocky brow.

Donnie passed you a hanky.

“It sounds worse than it is…” You chuckled and dabbed your face.

“Oh, but the salad!” Hypno checked his bags. “It’s meant to be refrigerated, what should we-?” 

“We’ll have it sent.” Donnie was clearly grappling with disengaging his concern.

“Sent where? Hand delivered? You got a guy?” Warren was inching toward Donnie. “I’ve been trying to get a guy! A grocery delivery guy! I need my things put in my fridge and cabinets! Right where they’re supposed to be, you see, it all started-!”

Donnie’s eyes rolled back into his head.

He was probably being especially docile since he mistakenly revealed your pregnancy.

You would assure him it was fine later.

You could enjoy this moment now. 

It wasn’t exactly how you meant it to happen, but you supposed that it was fine all the same. It was the company that mattered. 

💜 NEXT 💜

We still grateful; I'm grateful for my beats @tmntxthings and @unrestrainedhotsoup

[adorawasright]

I especially hate that Catra was always invading Entrapta’s space. Like… It’s a teenager being weird and touchy and creepy towards an adult. Just imagine, reverse the ages, and tell me that doesn’t scream ‘predator’. Idk what the writers were thinking, but the fact that Catra is doing this a lot with an autistic adult really irks me. Are they implying something there? Because idk WHAT THE FUCK it’s implying, but I don’t like it and I feel like it’s intentional.

Anyway… Something something Catra is a teen being creepy to an adult. Something something predatory. Something something character ages. Something something treating autistic people like they’re oblivious, dumb, or younger children. You probably know what I’m trying to say here…

I agree, though I firmly believe that Entrapta was not initially planned to be an adult. I always thought she was the same age as the other characters due to her young appearance (like they didn't even try to make her look a little older?). I think the crew only decided to make Entrapta an adult later on so that shipping her with Hordak wouldn't be creepy.

But yeah, it doesn't help that an autistic adult woman is infantilized and bullied by literal teenagers. And rewatching Catra being inappropriate with her is also a HUGE red flag that is rarely called out.

Really, the problem with SPOP is that a lot of its issues seem to be poorly thought out. Catra and Adora being raised as sisters but ending up in a romantic relationship, when apparently they were always "the heart of the show". Catra being a WOC despite having no canon basis, and yet still being a stereotype that WOC (or latina women more specifically) are abusive and "savages". S/pinnetossa also being an "angry black woman x calm white woman" ship. Double Trouble, a canon trans/non-binary character, being a lizard that disguises as a little girl only to get money. Bow being the black best friend that gets little to no character development. So on and so forth.

I'm sure most of these issues weren't intentional, but that is not an excuse, because in the end it teaches wrong things to its young audience.

(Please do not harass the crew members.)

[twins-of-ithaca]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

This was originally just a Ctimene rp blog but I got bored of that and though: what if twins

So now here we have the “What if Odysseus and Ctimene were twins” Au rp/ask blog 😼

(Btw this blog is run by @vicstxllation )

When I/Mod am talking the text will just be the normal tumblr non colored text

When Ctimene is talking it’ll be pink

And for Odysseus it’ll be red

❀‿‿‿‿‿‿‿❀ ❀‿‿‿‿‿‿‿❀ ❀‿‿‿‿

Hello, I’m Ctimene, aka the unimportant child of Laertes and Anticlea. Okay shut up. ANYWAYS like I said I’m Ctimene and I decided to convince my- AMAZING- absolute ass of a brother to start this fun blog with me!!

Wow okay really feeling the love, Kit.

Uh huh yeah I felt the love too when you sacrificed my husband

DO YOU WANT ME DEAD?!

….Yes?

‘Kay love you too sis. Anyways Ctimene being a little BUTT aside, I’m Odysseus the very very cool reigning king of Ithaca because I’m the oldest- BY LIKE FIVE MINUTES!- IT STILL COUNTS! ANYWAY AGAIN, because im the oldest. I’m also the one who went on a twenty year absolutely horrific trip to Troy and back

Honestly massive skill issue

I swear to Athena I’m gonna strangle you

Mom would be very sad

… KYS YOU SMELLY RAT

YOU FIRST

BET.

Can you two shut up?

Oh- OH YEAH THATS WHAT I WAS GOING TO MENTION! Other people in our lives will also probably pop in from time to time which will be shown via other colors: Telemachus - Green, Penelope - Purple, and Athena - Blue

Just as a heads up so there isn’t any confusion

Also if you are wondering why my color is red: I am the monster rawr rawr rawr seek help, brother.

⋆.˚————————ᯓ★————————⋆.˚ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ ⋆.˚————————ᯓ★————————⋆.˚

Mod has invaded - this is for when I make a post for whatever reason it may be

Ctimene yaps - tag for my text posts (Odysseus chose the tag name, not me. I hate him so much. Oh shush you ARE a yapper. YOU SHUSH!)

The king has spoken - for when I, the way cooler twin, am talking

Thy ask has been answered - for when anyone answers an ask, we’re sharing the answered ask tag for convenience

Twin tales - lore drop tag, basically for if either of us (or on the rare occasion someone else) spills our deep dark backstory Odysseus what deep dark backstory are you on about we were raised as royalty?

Family invasion - tag for if either myself or Telemachus bud in or take over for something. Honestly im probably going to be the one budding in unannounced the most, I doubt mom’ll really be here unless asked to be or if she needs to be. Well you aren’t wrong, dear

Goddess invasion - for when I get dragged into this for most likely something dumb but oh well, I let myself be talked into at least existing on here

[azuls-spare-contracts]

Random thoughts and headcannons part 5

btw some are made by rayne so heres the symbol for the ones that rayne made "✦" and also ones we both made together "✲"

➱ The twins for sure have two sets of jaws just the 2nd one is a litter more towards their throat but it is still visible if they were to unhinge their jaw

➱ Floyd can stuff things into his mouth and hide them in his cheeks like a chipmunk, like he can hide a whole concha or an entire tomato in there (floyd has chubby cheeks like a chipmunk)

➱ Jade probably needs to eat a lot because he'd probably pass out if he doesn't, this causes azul or floyd to randomly carry anything thats very sweet or high in sugar at all times for just in case if Jade starts to get light headed they have something to give him like gummies or an entire tangerine ✲

➱ Floyd listens to Olivia Rodrigo and One Direction

➱ Floyds got mommy issues ✲

➱ Ruggie and Jamil probably hang out in the most random of places like once they got caught hanging out inside the vents and once inside a literal tree, and the reason they hide and hang out in such strange places is just because they talk shit together and also don't lie people invading their privacy. (jamil has probably met ruggie's grandmother personally at some point)

➱ One time Ace referred to Octotrio as "Alvin and the chipmunks" or "Alvin and his chipmunks"

➱ The octotrio has once recreated a scene from Alivn and the chipmunks as a joke during a sleepover specifically they attempted to recreated the club song scene from one of the Chipmunk movies (i forgot which one) they also recreated the bad romance one as well as the talent show scene from one of the movies. (this was floyds idea but they were all in a good mood and agreed, azul fucking fell trying to do the handstand and the spin jump)

➱ Jade listens to Fiona Apple (friends suggestion)✦

➱ Azul clutches his pearls super often around floyd because he's always so close to snapping and straight up crashing out over floyd

➱ Once the twins both tried to see who could make azul crash out first (floyd won)

➱ Azul once told Silver how people eat birds and it made silver pass out from shock

➱ silver doesn't know exactly what mlp is and so when people talk about it she thinks that its literal little ponies that people own.

➱ Floyd once broke Spaghetti noodles in front of Azul causing Azul's Italian instinct kicked in and he punched Floyd (like what octopus do randomly) ✦

➱ Azul gets no bitches because in a way he and Idia are like cut from the same cloth just Azul tried to deny it but in the end both him and idia and celibate (No hate to either i thin they're both funny as fuck just we gotta lowkey be real here, if they were real and living they'd honestly get no hoes. ✲

➱ Jade and Floyd are Autism vs ADHD, Jade is Autistic and floyd has ADHD, and yes they do have medication to help with it and azul gives it to them because he doesn't trust them to take it themselves, floyd rarely takes his because he hates the taste (he chews on the pills).✦

➱ I feel like some of the students have drank underage because well they are teens majority of them, so they probably got curious (lie most teens do at some point) and i will admit it i feel like the twins have a high alcohol tolerance, azul can tolerate alcohol but not as much as the tweels probably because of genetics and they probably have some secret liquor cabinet in Azul's office and there's a good chance there are certain days in the lounge where they secretly sell alcoholic beverages, azul keeps the super expensive alcohol in his office though and he accesses it from the connections he and the tweels have.

➱ I feel like if azul was ever shown Ouran High School Host Club he'd feel so inspired seeing how profitable it could be and he'd end up making a high school host club for NRC,and he'd use the lounge as the setting to not only get profit from drinks and food he'd also get even more profit because he'd use the twins as "Hosts" and the twins honestly would probably enjoy this, and azul would also hire other students for this. this "Host club" would be more like a friends kind of thing where its just they'd hang out with the workers and overall they vibe.

➱ Cheka sometimes braids leonas hair but does dumb hairstyles.✦

➱ Floyd once broke his leg parkouring and jade broke his arm once after he slipped mountain climbing ✦

➱ Jade has a concept for a gacha game thats just mushroom fairiesand he has it prepared for of azul ever wants to make a gacha game for profit ✦

➱ idia plays minecraft with over 400 mods

➱ Idia and Azul play those BuzzFeed quizzes and those magazines tests and they once too the am i gay quiz and both got gay or bisexual I hope you all liked this very long Random thoughts and Hcs post!!

[monsterblogging]

Pacific Rim: Ascension is pretty good, actually

So yeah, Pacific Rim: Ascension is a prequel novel to Pacific Rim: Uprising, and based on that you might think it wouldn't be that great. But IMO, it's very much worth reading for a number of reasons.

The author was clearly very familiarized with the lore developed for PR1, and actually integrates a lot of it into the story in a way that gives it a sense of depth, reality, and drama that Uprising and The Black lack. Characters are also generally written well (and Hermann is written so wonderfully well), and Vik and Jinhai's backstories are, in my opinion, extremely engaging. And if you're one of the people disappointed that the Kaidonovskys and Cherno Alpha didn't get more screentime, you are absolutely in for a treat.

For the lore-oriented fans, the author's clear attention to detail means this book is actually a fairly reliable source on what was originally developed for PR1, including Jaeger details and character histories. It does include at least one piece of outdated data (Romeo Blue having three legs), and the story claims that drift compatibility is something you either have or don't have (something we know isn't true from Beacham's posts), but there's no reason to dispute, say, Vulcan Specter having a drill weapon or Shaolin Rogue having an extra-aquatic design.

The book also gives us lots of wonderfully bizarre kaiju. The somewhat frequent mentions of tentacles (forbidden by del Toro) suggests that these are based on very concepts, or were invented by the author himself. Either way, they are absolutely great monster designs. If anything, some of the things these monsters have going on make the movie's kaiju look a little boring.

That said, it's not perfect. Hermann's cane is never mentioned at all, and - well, the rest of the issues are spoilers, so I'll put them under a cut.

We learn that some people have apparently been using Pons technology to implant programming into people's minds - a detail which ultimately has no relevance on the plot, and feels weirdly edgy for Pacific Rim. And I know it's a common trope in sci-fi, but its proximity to right wing conspiracy theory bullshit makes it... not exactly my favorite trope. I don't know whether its presence in sci-fi is really super problematic, but in real life belief in this kind of thing has been used to basically justify witch hunting. Like, I understand the dramatic value here, but at the same time, people still living today were put on trial and even sent to jail based on belief that this was a real thing. Like I'm not going to tell you that this is an Objectively Bad Trope, but it's definitely a trope with a lot of terrible baggage.

The story also gives an explanation for how it was worked out that kaiju blood explodes when exposed to rare earth minerals, and it's pretty ridiculous. Supposedly a kaiju's blood rained down on a microchip factory, and the factory exploded. Accepting this detail means accepting that nobody's phones, laptop computers, or other electronic devices never came into contact with kaiju blood splatter or mist, and that kaiju blood never splattered into a damaged conn-pod. This is the kind of thing that should have been observed fairly early in the kaiju war, not several years in.

Also the PPDC in this book apparently just classifies information for No Real Reason, like the fact that a particularly violent kaiju cult tried to destroy the world. Like you'd think that this would be the kind of thing they'd want to broadcast, for reasons of "hey look how awful our political enemies are."

Also lol the fact that PPDC records pilots' drift memories and just peek into them is creepy. Like it doesn't exactly make Mako Mori look good when we learn she's been invading cadets' privacy like this, ya know?

But yeah like, I think it's definitely worth a read. The book shows a lot of imagination and makes good use of Pacific Rim's worldbuilding. Even if you don't like Uprising, you'll probably still find something to enjoy about it.

[howtofightwrite]

Hi! I have a battle scene that takes place on the coast and a few questions concerning the practical positioning. The defending side A 's cavalry are one of their biggest strengths and include a small section of rare transformative horses that can swim and breath under water. They stand on the coast and surrounding fields. If B, on the offense, arrive on the beach on boats how would A position their cavalry and infantry?

I'm not sure if there is any use in having cavalry on the beach facing the offense. Would they likely position their infantry first facing the sea with their cavalry further behind them i.e. where mounted archers can attack from and move around quickly. Depending on the geography could mounted soldiers charge B's troops once they reach the beach? Or would it just be impractical for the horses (the non-fantasy ones).

The setting is Tolkein-similar medieval fantasy with some more advanced technology in the works.

So, the first thing that comes to mind is that transporting horses by sea is notoriously difficult. I'm not an expert on horse transportation, but from what I remember the stress of transport alone can be fatal, on top of that, their legs and lungs are especially vulnerable while at sea. Finally, getting horses ashore without a full port is going to be extremely difficult without modern amphibious landing craft. So, it's not easy for an amphibious assault force (your second faction), to bring cavalry. Somewhat obviously, if their cavalry doesn't involve living horses, some of these problems may not apply. (Either fantasy animals who have no issues with being cooped up on a ship for weeks at a time, or the undead, or something else entirely.)

With all that said, it is possible to transport horses by sea, but it is difficult. Also, it occurs to me, after writing this, that you specify if the second group had cavalry.

The transforming horses (kelpies, or whatever), might not have an issue with being aboard a ship, and may be able to embark and disembark mid-voyage. It's kind of hard to tell. Depending on how far they can clear the water, they might be useful for eliminating enemy landing craft before they can come ashore. You wouldn't even need that many of them to sufficiently cripple an invading force, unless the capital ships were specifically set up to deal with them and protect their their landing crafts. If the assaulting force didn't know about the horses, they may even be able to take out the capital ships before dealing with the landing troops.

I'm not sure how well horses take to sand, but for infantry, quickly moving on beach sand can be a lot more exhausting than you'd expect.

Historically, amphibious assaults, that is to say, attacking from the sea, is an extraordinarily difficult tactic. These forces are especially vulnerable while disembarking. They're likely to still be reorganizing themselves back into their units. They have their back to the sea, meaning they cannot fall back, and they cannot move forces behind their front line. They are stuck with their distribution of forces. And worse, their chain of command is likely to be somewhat disorganized as well. A lot of modern concepts about amphibious warfare are, just that, “modern,” and have been around for slightly over a century.

Spears and pikes are effective anti-cav weapons, so if the invading troops expect a cavalry as part of their initial retaliation, they can prepare for that.

But, I think, absent additional information, the answer on how to position their forces would be to simply send in their infantry immediately, before the invading force was able to finish disembarking, and cut them down, sending their transforming horses out any reinforcements or supports coming from the invader's ships. It's not even a positioning issue in this case, it's just about driving them back into the sea before they're organized and ready to fight.

-Starke

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[lumiereandcogsworth]

okay kinda random bc I haven’t seen this season but I saw queen charlotte gifs awhile back and someone was trying to stop the king from being by his wife’s side during child birth (I think ??) and now I’m curious if anyone could’ve stopped Adam in that scenario? I feel like no, absolutely not but 👁️

ooooh my gosh dude okay. okay. OKAY. OKAY!!!!!!!!!!! you have no idea how long, how many Years, i agonized over this topic. AGONIZEDDDD. the constant flipping around between historical accuracy and wanting them to share That Moment and knowing both of their personalities and OH MY GOSSSSHSHDHDJFNEKFJSKDJEKDJDK. alright. let’s get into it.

the fact of the matter is: i have put all 3 of their children’s births into my canon (not Graphically obviously but. the days have been recorded and are on ao3 🫡) so i can explain my thoughts quite thoroughly on how those three magical days went down. i know them quite well!

to answer your question, firstly, (and that scene in queen charlotte IS so good and i love that mini series IMMENSELY) no, there is absolutely nothing that could stop adam from getting to belle. proof of that is right in the movie, with that man doing gymnastic-level LEAPS across the castle roof while being shot at in order to get to his girl!!! so, no absolutely not. he WILL get to belle if needed.

THAT BEING SAID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! adam actually is not present in the room at renée’s birth! there were Reasons i ended up doing this. (and, just to say, i am still REALLY proud of this fic. i had been thinking about that day for years and then it all finally came to me one random night and i am immensely proud of it. plleeeaaassse read it if you find the time 🥹)

anyway, here’s the thing about adam and belle. as MUCH as those two love each other, as MUCH as they always want to be near each other, and invading each other’s space, i really and truly don’t think this particular (albeit, magnificent) event would strike them as something to be shared together. YES, there ARE plenty of recorded points in history when the man, against the status quo, stood by his wife while she had their children. queen victoria is probably the most famous example. and while i DID factor this in, VERY heavily, i just couldn’t shake the feeling that adam and belle wouldn’t be this way. it may seem counterintuitive to some people but listen, they’ve lived in my head for so many years, i just don’t question them much anymore. especially when it’s sort of Against the obvious fluff that i would love to see, ya know?? but here were my thoughts:

i think belle, having lacked a mother-figure and just like, girlhood & womanhood community in general all her life, would sort of Want this day to be a very, well, womanly experience. she only wanted midwives, there wasn’t even a male doctor present (which would have been weird for a queen!!!) and i think she was very intentional about this decision. she’s HAVING A BABY! and she hates that her mother isn’t here to help her through it and i think she’d just really want to take control and make it as special, in this regard, as possible.

(also adam definitely made sure she had the TOP midwives in the country. he vetted them Thoroughly)

and! i really feel like adam would not have particularly Wanted to be present. OBVIOUSLY HE WANTS TO SUPPORT HIS WIFE AND BE THERE FOR HER OH MY GOSH!!!!!!!!!!!!! but, given HIS upbringing, i don’t think he would actually genuinely REMOTELY want to witness a birth. even if it Was the love of his life, even if it WAS his child. he has so many complicated issues around manhood and fatherhood and i think that would kind of cloud any other ideas.

i don’t even think they truly talked about it, just given the times. it wasn’t like belle ever asked “hey do you want to be there?” because husbands rarely were. and she was already very set (and very excited!) about having this very WOMAN!! experience. and adam equally wouldn’t have inquired, already being so clouded with the Everything about it. (and, i think his worry about her having to go through that would trigger him to want to avoid it, unfortunately, but it IS okay since she wasn’t expecting him to be there anyway!)

SO !!!!!!! finding their reasons so very sound, i made that decision and wrote it that way! but the whole first chapter of the fic is adam being an anxious DISASTER pacing the floor just down the hall from The Room so i mean, there’s still plenty of fatherly nerves in there. and after he goes to meet his precious darling, belle tells him how much she wanted him there the moment she was born!!!!! so like. they DO LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH and very much Wanted to be near each other. just not for the birth itself! which is valid and i stand by this decision <3

the other two births are kind of wild lmao. and don’t ask me why! i just work here!!

juliette was born a MONTH early. she’s perfectly okay !!! but just tiny and very unexpected. so unexpected that adam was LITERALLY NOT HOME‼️ ough. not to spoil the whole opening premise of that fic but yeah adam was in versailles doing king things. and belle would have come with him but she was quite pregnant! and carriage rides were UNCOMFORTABLE! (and their toddler is VERY attached to her mama!!!) so belle stayed home. and let me be clear, adam DID NOT want to leave. he knew they only had a month to go and his worries about belle only increased by the day. but belle, Of Course, was like dont worryyyyy nothings gonna happeeennnnnn!!!! he was only going to be gone a week anyway so. WHAT COULD HAPPEN?🥲

i don’t know WHY belle went into early labor, don’t ASK me that, i just WORK HERE, but she did. it all happened quite suddenly and it was the most scared belle has ever been. both because she thought she was going to lose the baby and because adam wasn’t even home so everything just felt wrong. one of her ladies in waiting wrote adam an urgent letter and some galant postman hopped in his horse-drawn carriage and told them to fly like the wind, bullseye!! to get the letter to versailles. which obviously took multiple hours because uhhh country big and horses small.

so this time, belle gave birth pretty scared and also more distressed because she knew adam 1. Was Not There Waiting For Her and 2. WOULD BE LOSING HIS MIND THE MOMENT HE RECEIVED THAT LETTER AND STARTED BOOKING IT BACK HOME! gosh. it’s just a very very stressful day 😭 that fic is INCREDIBLY dear to me though because it’s mostly them FINALLY reaching peace. adam returns and meets his second baby girl and belle is at peace now that he’s back and that their baby is okay. (though,,, i do think belle has some postpartum depression because of how intense everything was, and how worried she still was about juliette. she was just so tiny!!! but she really did handle being an 18th century premie like a CHAMP. at one point adam says “that’s because she’s strong, like her mother” 🥹🤧 so anywayyyy adam wasn’t there for that one either but for a wildly different reason!!! i do truly think that if he HAD been there when belle went into early labor, she would very much have summoned him because i think for a moment she wondered if she herself was going to make it and wanted him with her. (which of course made her more distressed that she literally couldn’t ask for him! AH!) anyway the 18th century was craaaazyyyy lol let’s move on !

last baby!!! le prince!!! hooray!!! okay HERE you go i finally give you the fluff we so dearly crave. ADAM WAS AT THIS ONE!!!!!!!!! it happened for a couple reasons. mostly, it was unplanned, lmao. even though maurice came on time, not early like juliette, the labor was also pretty quick and sudden.

(i didn’t even SAY this earlier but belle was in labor with renée for like a full night and day before she even TOLD adam. she’s so stubborn. like GIRL? i know Exactly how that entire day goes but i haven’t actually written about it. i should though. but she basically avoids telling adam because they had a small but “important” luncheon with some dukes and nobles and such that day and belle was like “well obviously i can’t Tell Adam because then he’ll cancel the thing he’s been super anxious about!” not for a moment thinking about THE OTHER THING HE’S BEEN SUPER ANXIOUS ABOUT FOR THE PAST NINE MONTHS— anyway. she’s ridiculous. adam really had to hold back his scolding when she finally told him but oooooh boy he was PISSED. OUT OF CONCERN‼️ but anywaaayyyyy)

this last labor started in the evening when adam and belle were winding down for the night. the girls were already tucked into bed. adam’s reading a book on the sofa and belle is milling about with some project. and then all of the sudden it’s like WHOAH HEY HELLO ! ! and she HAD felt some slight pains earlier in the afternoon but being her usual “you’d say you were fine if your arm had fallen off” self, she just kind of ignored it (you’d think she’d have learned? after the first two? but no💖) but suddenly it’s like REAL and CANNOT ignore. so she tells adam and he’s like WHOAH !!!! and then he’s like aaahAAHHHH OKAY— and they Start leaving for the hospital wing.

(oh yeah i think renée was born in like this nice medical room of the castle. part of belle’s whole Plan. but juliette was born in the west wing since all that happened so intensely and they happened to be closer to their chambers than the hospital wing. they just needed a BED at that point.)

so anyway, my gosh, MY TANGENTS!! so ANYWAY, they Try to start heading to the hospital wing but belle’s like uhhhhhh frankly my guy i do not think i can do all those stairs. this is Happening. and adam is like oooh my gosh and gets worried and Knows how scared she was last time so with all that adrenaline and Husbandly Concern he just takes control of the situation!!! and says that okay, she’s going to have the baby here, and he’s going to send for the midwives to come up, and he’s not going to leave her side. so he doesn’t !!! he helps belle to bed and steps out of their room and tells the nearest guard to get the midwife girlies !!! (who come and stay at the castle around the six month mark of each pregnancy, just to be able to do check-ups and such) and then adam pulls a chair to belle’s bedside and sits by her.

and he just. like he’s SO scared but he isn’t the same guy he was when renée was born !! he’s been a father for seven years! a husband for NINE! he’s grown A LOT ! he’s still not super excited to witness this but at this point he is fully just concerned about belle. he helps her as much as he can. he gets a rag to dry her sweat and lets her nearly break his hand from squeezing it so hard. and she definitely, (stubbornly), tells him multiple times that he can GO and she’s FINE but he’s like yeah nice try + i’m here now + deal with it. and she does! and the midwives come soon enough and things Occur and adam gets to witness the birth of his SON‼️ im not sure what time he was born but it’s like just before sunrise. like 4am maybe.

(they were all born at night !! renée is born around 11:15pm and juliette is born in the early evening, maybe like 7pm or so. (adam doesn’t show up until like 10 or 11pm😭))

and boy it is a WILD experience for adam, my gosh. obviously none of it is truly processed in the moment, with all the worries and adrenaline and utter JOY upon seeing their baby. and it’s so !!! exciting because the midwife basically cleans the baby up and puts him in adam’s arms without much thought. so they keep tending to belle with the afterbirth and all that, meanwhile adam is like ‼️‼️‼️‼️ holding his baby boy feeling like nothing is real AT ALL. and he cries (he tears up upon seeing aaallll his babies) and he’s just. gosh. so happy. SO HAPPY. so happy that their baby is okay and so happy that his belle is okay too!!! he soon puts the baby in her arms and he kisses her forehead and they can’t stop smiling. and a bit of time later, the midwives give them some time alone and leave for a bit. adam gets up and circles the bed to climb onto his side, and he just wraps his arms around them 😭

this fic takes place a couple hours after all that chaos. it’s early morning and adam eventually goes to wake the girls so they can meet their little brother!!

the silliest part is, that after ALL THAT! i do think that adam and belle would both agree that adam Should be there. so they talk about that “for next time.” but little do they know, baby reecy was their last little darling 🥹🥰 so that’s the only birth adam was at!! but wow!!! wowie i love this family of mine!!💖

[mariacallous]

On February 6th, Tucker Carlson spent more than two hours interviewing Vladimir Putin. The interview later aired, in a version dubbed by what would appear to be Kremlin-provided translators, on Carlson’s Web site, one of Russia’s main state television channels, and the Kremlin Web site.

What Tucker Carlson Saw When He Interviewed Vladimir Putin

More than anything else, Carlson seemed surprised: by the fact that he got to interview Putin in the Kremlin and even film himself sharing some post-interview impressions in a room full of lacquer and gold leaf; by what Putin said during the interview; and by the man himself. Putin used the interview to deliver a lengthy lecture on the history of the Russian Empire, the Soviet Union, and its aftermath, meant to convince viewers that Ukraine never had a right to exist. When he was done with the lecture, he segued into a litany of grievances against the West, where several generations of Presidents, Prime Ministers, and Secretaries of State have, according to Putin, let him down or ghosted him. After the interview, an incredulous Carlson held up a gray cardboard folder with a little rope tie: Putin had given him copies of documents to back up his historical claims. Carlson hadn’t opened it yet. “I thought he was filibustering,” he said, still apparently reeling from the history lesson. “But I concluded after watching all this, no, that was the predicate to his answer: the history of the area and the formation of this country and the connection to Ukraine is part of the basis for his Ukraine policy.”

The content of Putin’s conversation with Carlson was barely distinguishable from the content of Putin’s rare speeches and so-called press conferences and hotlines—annual hours-long, highly orchestrated television productions. Putin’s obsession with history is genuine, as is his belief in a narrative that justifies, indeed makes inevitable, Russia’s war against Ukraine. That Carlson was surprised suggests that he either didn’t watch Putin’s earlier appearances in preparation for the interview, or that, despite copious evidence to the contrary, he imagined that Putin the man would match Putin the role: a dictator whose opponents get killed and jailed and who invades neighboring countries ought to be larger than life, terrifying in person, and certainly not boring.

Carlson emerged from the interview shaking his head. “Russia is not an expansionist power,” he said. “You’d have to be an idiot to think that.” Actually, you might look at the evidence—the invasion and de-facto control over about a fifth of Georgia in 2008, the annexation of Crimea in 2014, the continued occupation of about a fifth of Ukraine and the ongoing offensive there—to conclude that Russia is an expansionist power. During the interview, Putin gave every indication that he thinks of former imperial possessions as still rightfully Russia’s. That would include not only former Soviet republics but also Finland and Poland. “The professional liars in Washington . . . are trying to convince you that this guy is Hitler, that he is trying to take the Sudetenland, or something,” Carlson continued. “Not analogous in any way!” In fact, Putin had clearly, and more explicitly than ever before, channelled Hitler during the interview. This is what a tyrant looks like: small, and full of tedious resentments.

What Putin Saw When He Was Interviewed by Tucker Carlson

Here was an easy mark. Carlson meekly tried to interrupt Putin a couple of times, to ask a question he seemed stuck on: Why hadn’t all this history and these territorial issues come up when Putin first became President, in 2000? It was an ill-informed question—Putin has trafficked in historical revisionism from the start and became increasingly obsessed with Ukraine after the Orange Revolution, in 2004—and an easy one for Putin to ignore. It seemed to show that Carlson was less well briefed than Putin, who dropped biographical trivia about Calrson into the conversation, a trademark intimidation tactic of a K.G.B. agent. He mentioned, for example, that Carlson had unsuccessfully tried to join the C.I.A.

Carlson didn’t interrupt or challenge Putin on the many—too many to count—occasions when Putin told falsehoods about the history of Ukraine, the dissolution of the Soviet Union, the relationship between Russia and NATO, probably his conversations with former U.S. leaders, and, perhaps most egregiously of all, the Russian Army’s withdrawal from the suburbs of Kyiv after a month of invasion in 2022. Putin claimed that this was a gesture of good will aimed at achieving a speedy negotiated peace; in fact, it was a military defeat. This would also have been a good moment for Carlson to ask Putin about the well-documented war crimes Russian soldiers allegedly committed during that month of occupation. He passed up this opportunity.

Most important from Putin’s point of view, Carlson seemed to share two of his basic assumptions: that the war in Ukraine is a proxy war with the United States and that any negotiations will take place between the Kremlin and the White House, presumably without involving Kyiv. Carlson even nudged Putin to call President Biden and say “Let’s work this out.” To which Putin responded that the message Russia wishes to convey to the U.S. is “Stop supplying weapons. It will be over within a few weeks.”

What Russian Television Viewers Saw

Putin has reprised his history lecture many times. It seems likely that most Russians who watched the entire interview did so out of professional obligation—their job, as propagandists or political appointees, is to amplify and affirm the leader’s message. Ordinary Russians probably watched only outtakes and commentary. What they saw was that something momentous had happened: one of the most popular journalists in America came to interview Putin and looked like a deer in headlights. Channel One stressed both Carlson’s popularity and Americans’ evident interest in what Putin had to say. Carlson’s promotional video in advance of the interview itself had been watched more than a hundred million times! Russians see Carlson, not unreasonably, as a representative of a future Trump Administration, a preview of the coming America in which the liberals who support Ukraine are finally displaced.

What Tucker Carlson’s Viewers Saw

It’s hard to imagine an American viewer who would make it past the first ten minutes of Putin’s monotonous history lecture. (In the interview, Putin called it one of his “dialogues,” betraying either his ignorance or his idea of what constitutes a dialogue; the Kremlin translated “dialogues” as “my long speeches.”) The translator or translators generally cleaned up Putin’s prose, smoothing out passages that, in Russian, made no sense. For example, responding to Carlson’s question about a possible invasion of Poland, Putin said, in Russian, “Because we don’t have any interests in Poland nor in Lithuania—nowhere. What do we need it for? We just don’t have any interests. Only threats.” The translator rendered it as, “Because we have no interest in Poland, Latvia or anywhere else. Why would we do that? We simply don’t have any interest. It’s just threat mongering.”

In another exchange, the translator took liberties to make Carlson appear more dignified. When Carlson asked Putin about his obsession with fighting Nazism eighty years after Hitler’s death, the President said, in Russian, “Your question seems subtle but is very disgusting.” In English, though, Putin appeared to be praising Carlson’s question as “subtle” while Carlson himself, according to the transcript, called the question “quite pesky”— the words were actually spoken by Putin’s translator. However obscure the subject of Putin’s discursive exercise was, the genre probably looked recognizable to Americans. This was a conversation between an older man who has read a history book and fancies himself an expert and his eager nephew, who is trying to feign knowledge in a subject he failed in college. Except one of these guys reaches millions of viewers and the other has nuclear weapons.

What I Saw

I can’t get one passage out of my mind. In the history-lecture portion of the interview, when Putin got to 1939, he said, “Poland coöperated with Germany, but then it refused to comply with Hitler’s demands. . . . By not ceding the Danzig Corridor to Hitler, Poles forced him, they overplayed their hand and they forced Hitler to start the Second World War by attacking Poland.” (This is my translation.) The idea that the victim of the attack serves as its instigator by forcing the hand of the aggressor is central to all of Putin’s explanations for Russia’s war in Ukraine. To my knowledge, though, this was the first time he described Hitler’s aggression in the same terms.

Putin has reproduced Hitler’s rhetoric before. Ten years ago, announcing the annexation of Crimea, he seemed to borrow from Hitler’s speech on the annexation of Sudetenland. At the time, I assumed that the language had come from a speechwriter who knew what they were doing while Putin may not have. But the way Putin described the beginning of the Second World War in his interview with Carlson suggests that, although he keeps accusing Ukraine of fostering Nazism, in his mind he might see himself as Hitler, but perhaps a wilier one, one who can make inroads into the United States and create an alliance with its presumed future President.

It’s telling, too, that Putin took the time to accuse Poland of both allying with Nazi Germany and inciting Hitler’s aggression. As he has done with Ukraine in the past, he is positioning Poland as an heir to Nazism. He mentioned Poland more than thirty times in his conversation with Tucker. If I were Poland, I’d be scared. 

[alwayslosingtheplot-blog]

Epimeliad - the Shepherd's Isle.

One of the islands closest to the coast, and also one of the largest islands, Epimeliad has a surprisingly small population. The large spaces here are perfect for small cattle and large sheep, both of which are important for their hides and wool. This is what is mainly used all over the islands as a source of cloth. Other fabrics exists, such as a type of linen, but these are the most hard-wearing and reliable sources.

The wool and sheepskin is the reason that Epimeliad is very rarely attacked by any other nations. Sheep are rare on the islands and having access to wool is more important than any other resources invading might offer for now. Epimeliadians have made it quite clear throughout their history that they will kill a herd rather than have it taken by anyone else.

There is a breed of rabbit on another isle that is causing concern in court, are their fur is similar to wool and they require a lot less land and food to keep. Some have suggested large-scale assassinations of the animals take place, while others have tentatively put forward the idea of buying some of investing in purchasing some of the small beasts. Neither idea has gone down well in court with the Shepherds.

A 'Shepard' is the head of a Epimeliad family, as every family has at least three sheep- one male and one female. This is a man, in the tradition of this isle, and the title is inherted by his oldest son.

Some shepherds tend to their small herd themselves and live in little more than a hut. Others live in great manors and might never have actually touched any of their hundreds of sheep themselves. There are other types of families and professions in Epimeliad, but only Shepherds own land.

Epimeliad families are small and spread out, with more land being given to animals than people. There is a small city and something like a royal family, but most families here are related. It is very rare for any outsider to be allowed to live in Epimeliad and even rarer for them to be allowed to marry. This has caused something of an issue for people trying to find someone that they are unrelated to for marriage. Records are extremely important here and every family has a sheep-skin transcript of their family tree, along with a entire population cenus taking place once every ten years.

The children and grandchildren of any Epimeliad person who left home are allowed to move back and marry if given permission from their closest family still living on the island, or the royal family themselves.

Match-making is a vital job in this region and involves a lot of paperwork. As a result many people do not meet their spouse until the day of their wedding. Women marry into a man's family here. Men are allowed to only have a single wife their entire lives, unless given express permission from the royal family for another one. Women are allowed to have two husbands, should the first one die, but must remarry another man from their late husband's immediate family.

Excess children (counted as five and above) are considered as gifts to the temples and are not allowed to marry or have children unless their leave the island. The temples here are required to care for the elderly who have no children of their own, or whose children left the island. The variety of temple size and position in society differs greatly, with a temple inside the royal court being one of the most influential voices on the island, to tiny enclaves in the outer city and countryside which cares for the poorer folk.

Tourists are welcomed onto the island, and in the city their are 'locked gardens' where exist houses whose entire purpose is to extend the gene pool of the island. Everyone visiting the island may visit such a place (although most men only get to do so once). These were opened roughly 70 years ago. Before this foreigners were completely banned from stepping foot outside of the walled-off docks and families were dying off due to the lack of unrelated suitors.

The women who work their are treated well and considered as distant members of the royal family themselves, and harming or humiliating them is usually punished by banishment or death. Locals are forbidden from touching them. Once a woman in such an establishment has two healthy children, she is retired to being an entertainer at court and no longer provides other services.

The children are held in reserve, given an excellent education and are rewarded out in marriage by the royal family. They are married to important trade allies, dignitaries from other islands or to houses which the royals want to honor or any family which cannot find any suitable unrelated spouses for their children (although this is becoming rarer). They have very little to do with their mothers, having nannies and teachers from a young age, but the maternal relationship is encouraged after their mother is retired into being en entertainer.

These entertainers are singers, dancers, poets, but also socialites, mathematicians and philosophers and follow their own hierarchy. They are considered to be the most powerful women in the country other than the Queen-mother and Queen-consort and they too have very valued voices in court. They fall within the remit of these two women, with the Queen-consort given preference and the royal men are forbidden from speaking with them other than in a governmental meeting. They have no vote and cannot own land, but are considered advisors of the court. They are not allowed to marry or to leave the island unless travelling with the Queen-mother or Queen-consort as companions.

[hopefulatrocity]

From The Ashes- Chapter 5

Notes: Daryl and Pheonyx finally see each other! They don’t talk yet, not until after Daryl’s POV which is next chapter. I really needed to go in depth with their first sights of each other before moving to their interactions. I’m super excited for Daryl’s POV. There’s lots of denial and internal homophobia but it also will give you an idea of Daryl as a person(At least how I view him as). Also, in regards to Pheonyx’s descriptions of himself and how parts of himself cause him to be misgendered, this is just how it has been for me in the past. Flaired hips and stuff like that are not an indicator for Gender!! But unfortunately things like that are how people “decide” what gender to label people as usually. It’s in now way right, but it’s how I as a trans person have to look at myself in order to try to be properly gendered with strangers. 

Taglist: @yoongibaybee​

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @omiyours 

Banner by: @liminal-creations​ 

Chapter CW/TW: PTSD, anxiety, self-doubt, internal transphobia, mentions of past abuse/trauma, internal homophobia/biphobia 

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The night was long and Pheonyx was tired. He barely slept most nights anyways, but the stress was what was draining him the most. That and the 2 units of blood he donated the day before.  He was worried about Carl. Although the boy was doing better since his surgery, the risk of infection and complications were still prevalent. Especially considering there was no access to modern medical amenities. He was worried about the Shadows reaching the farm. With the weakness from donating so much blood and the constant anxiety coursing through his veins, going out to clear the woods and traps would have been suicide. He was worried about all the new people coming to the farm. The four men already set him on edge. Lori wasn’t a problem. Women rarely made his fight-or-flight response trigger. Outwardly, the men seemed nice, especially Rick and Glenn, but that didn’t mean anything. The darkest demons always had the bright faces of angels. The one who really worried him was Shane. After informing him of Carl’s successful surgery, Rick had given him the condensed version of what happened at the FEMA center when he walked in the house at sunrise. He said Otis told Shane to run, that he would provide cover, but the shadows had gotten him. Pheonyx knew it was a crock of shit though.  Otis was definitely the type to sacrifice himself to save a boy’s life, but Shane came back with Otis’s gun, he had seen it laid on the counter in the house. How did the older man lay cover fire without his weapon? Shane was lying about something. Pheonyx kept his theories to himself, though. He knew if he told Hershel, his stepfather  would insist on kicking all the new people out. Despite his anxiety with the strangers, his conscience couldn’t handle being the catalyst to throw out a group of people into the world as it was. It would be a death sentence.

He was worried about the little girl that was missing. Those woods were his home and he knew them better than anyone else in the family. Which means he knew how dangerous they could be. A scared little girl running around with no known survival experience? With shadows wandering around waiting to eat any living thing that crosses their path? Her likelihood of survival was small.  If he hadn’t needed to stick around to provide blood for Carl, he would have spent the night searching for her. He wanted to leave at first light, but Rick insisted he wait until the rest of the group got to the farm. Apparently they had a proficient tracker in their group, and the sheriff wanted both of them–and Kismet– to lead the search for the girl. It made sense but that didn’t keep Pheonyx’s skin from itching with the need to leave before more bodies invaded the farm.

His issues with strangers stemmed from many different things. When he was younger, after his mother had removed him from his abusive father’s clutches, he avoided new people like the plague. How could he trust anyone when the person he was supposed to trust most in the world had torn his body and mind apart? It took years for him to open up to anyone outside his family. All the progress he made, in regards to his fear of strangers, was destroyed when he turned 22 and ended up in the hospital, clinging to life and broken inside. 6 years later, even after leaving Georgia and seeking counseling, he hadn’t shaken the fear that coursed through his veins when he had to interact with new people. It wasn’t social anxiety. It was fear of being hurt. Fear of being outed. Fear of someone finding out he was trans and hurting him again. Fear of the invisible dirt that still clung to his skin sometimes. Fear of being used and being helpless. Fear of being destroyed. The world falling apart didn’t help matters. He was even more fearful of other survivors. The will to survive was a powerful motivator and good people rarely made it out on top. People who were willing to destroy, pillage, and hurt were the ones who lived.

Despite his fear, Pheonyx was currently leaning on the railing of the front porch as he waited for the other members of the group to arrive. His eyes were focused on the dirt road that led to the house. Sweat was already forming on his brow, a sign that the day was going to be sweltering. Pheonyx opted to dress coolly, a simple pair of men’s jeans–that were frayed and dirty at the knees from his frequent hunting trips– and a gray tank top. The tank top was for comfort but also to make himself look more masculine to the newcomers. Being misgendered was a huge fear of his. This was rural Georgia, the reactions of people figuring out his gender could be violent. So, he wanted to appear as “manly” as he could. Pheonyx was lean and he couldn’t help the flair of his hips that was often deemed “feminine”. The softness to his jaw and the roundness of his backside were also causes of his being misgendered. But the tank top allowed his muscled arms–covered in intricate art– to be exposed. Farm work and bow-hunting had shaped his tanned biceps perfectly. They weren’t massive but watching the muscles flex and the tattoos on his arm move was very affirming. The flatness of his chest also helped his gender euphoria. He needed the edge of that euphoria to get through this meeting. Along with the masculine clothing, he adorned himself with his weapons. He had his bow and quiver slung across his shoulder. The heavy weight of the cutlass and Glock on his hips provided him a small amount of comfort in the moment. He also had a hunting knife sheathed next to the gun.

Pheonyx wasn’t the only one waiting for the others. While Rick, Lori, and Hershel were inside with Carl, everyone else was outside in the front yard. Glenn and T-Dog were conversing quietly but everyone from the Greene farm was quiet. Most were still in shock over the loss of Otis. He did catch Maggie sending careful glances over to the young Asian man and had to stop himself from smiling a bit. Unlike Shawn, Pheonyx wasn’t the overprotective big brother. He encouraged his sister to date and form connections. Which was slightly hypocritical considering he avoided dating and relationships like the plague. He lied to Maggie about going on dates. He didn’t want her to worry about him, but the pain from 6 years ago still had a deep grip on his heart. And he couldn’t bring himself to trust anyone. He had hookups, only with women, never cis men. But even those were few and far between. Love was something Pheonyx wanted, but the initial hurdle of letting someone behind his barriers was the problem.

Kismet–who had been snoring on the porch next to Pheonyx– was the first to hear the caravan of vehicles. Ears perked, he leapt to his feet and his tail began to wag. Despite the plethora of scars from abuse on his speckled body, the pup loved people. Training him to guard had been a bitch. Anytime Pheonyx had Jimmy attempt to attack him, Kismet had jumped into the fray, thinking it was a cuddle game. Eventually the training had set in, but the dog was still entirely too trusting. While he was happy his dog had recovered from the mental scars he’d endured as a puppy, Pheonyx still worried that his love for people might get him hurt one day. He realized he was projecting his own anxieties on the dog but he couldn’t help but worry.

The loud rumble of a motorcycle drowned out the noise of the other vehicles, a large RV and a silver sedan. T-Dog made his way inside to let Rick, Lori, and Hershel know that the rest of the group had arrived. Pheonyx straightened, body tensing, as he watched the vehicles approach. His eyes were drawn to the motorcycle leading the group through the gates near the house. Even at that distance, his green eyes connected with ones the color of the Georgia sky.

The vehicles all parked and the man on the motorcycle stopped closest to the house. Pheonyx nearly tripped coming down the porch steps as he got a good look at the rider dismounting the bike. The man looked like he hadn’t showered in awhile and his gaze had a hard edge to it, but he was still the hottest man Pheonyx had ever seen. He was definitely older than Pheonyx’s 28yrs, with a few crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Short brown hair, perfectly tousled, surrounded a sharp face. Light stubble lined his jaw and his goatee framed soft-looking, pink lips. There were a few gray hairs speckled through the facial hair.  A small mole at the corner of his upper lips stood out from the light hair surrounding it. Dragging his gaze from the man’s face, his eyes settled on the man’s arms. The sleeves of his plaid shirt had been ripped off, and Pheonyx wanted to thank whatever god there was for that. It should be a sin to cover up arms that look that good. Dirt and sweat helped highlight every ridge and bulge of the firm muscles. They weren’t the kind of muscles that one gained by lifting weights for hours in a gym, these had been formed by hard work and real life strain. The man’s clothes weren’t form-fitting but Pheonyx could still see he was toned all over. Before that moment, Pheonyx had questioned if he was really bisexual. He wondered if his attraction to men was more jealousy, wanting to be them, as opposed to wanting them romantically or sexually. This man answered that question. He was definitely attracted to men. This man in particular. The man grabbed a crossbow from the back of his motorcycle and held it in his rough-looking hands. Masculine energy absolutely poured off of him  and Pheonyx wanted to be on the receiving end of that energy. He wanted the man to press him up against–

Pheonyx nearly jumped out of his skin when Maggie touched his shoulder. She had moved to his side at some point. “I think I found your dark, mysterious archer.”, she whispered in her brother’s ear with a small smile. “Close your mouth, Nyx. You’re practically drooling.”

Pheonyx shut his mouth, his face turning a bright red, and used the back of his hand to check that he didn’t actually have any drool on his face. The man’s eyes had drifted from his when he was dismounting the bike, but they met his again. Pheonyx’s heart, that had been racing from anxiety about the new people, was now racing for a different reason. Heat flushed his whole body and a light throbbing began between his legs. Shame filled his heart and he averted his own eyes from the blue ones that captivated him.

What am I thinking? There’s a little girl missing, Otis is dead, and there are dead people walking around. Now is not the time to be lusting after a guy who is most likely straight, Pheonyx thought. A darker voice, one that he always dreaded hearing, pushed to the forefront of his mind. Even if he wasn’t, why would he want to be with someone like you? You’re just pretending to be a man, just like those demons said–

The dark memories tried to push their way into his head, but he pushed them to the back of his mind. He was drawn from his thoughts when Kismet whined at his side, the dog was practically crawling out of his skin with need to go meet the new people. Pheonyx snapped his fingers to make the dog sit. He wasn’t sure if the people would want a 70lb dog rubbing all over them first thing. Besides the incredibly hot man, there was an older man adorned in a Hawaiian shirt and a bucket fishing hat, a woman with short gray hair, and a younger woman with longer blonde hair. The older man radiated energy that reminded Pheonyx of his Grandpops. That man didn’t have a mean bone in his body and his soul was much too good for the world. The woman with the short gray hair held her arms around her body, as if holding herself together, and he guessed this was the missing girl’s mother. Her eyes glinted with sadness but she held her head high. The younger blonde woman was a bit harder to read but she held her back rigid, trying to appear taller than she was. Pheonyx knew that she was avoiding some kind of pain, putting up a facade of strength.

Lori and Rick came out of the house, Hershel and T-Dog following behind them. The parents were much more relaxed today, and the color had returned to both of their faces. Although, Rick was still a bit pale from donating blood. Approaching the couple first, the man in the fishing hat had a look of concern on his face.

“How is he?”, he addressed Rick.

“He’ll pull through.” Lori smiled lightly and her arm brushed her husband’s, “Thanks to Hershel and his people.”, she looked at each of the Greene family, her eyes stopping on Pheonyx’s form. Gratitude poured from her hazel orbs.

“And Shane”, Rick cut in. “We’d have lost Carl if not for him.”

Everyone looked at the man hanging in the back. His black curls were gone now, shaved to the scalp after he returned with the supplies for Carl. Clothes much too big for his frame hung from him like a blanket. Patricia had obviously loaned some of Otis’s clothes to him, and a roll of anger filled Pheonyx’s stomach. Everyone sent nods and looks of appreciation to the man. Everyone except Pheonyx, of course. He knew the truth. Or suspected it, at least.

“We owe a lot to Pheonyx too. He donated blood. Gave Carl time until Shane could get back with the supplies.”, Rick continued and looked at him. Just like his wife, the sheriff’s eyes leaked waves of thanks.

All eyes turned to Pheonyx, including a pair of icy blue ones, and he had to stop from physically recoiling. He kept his eyes downcast and busied himself with scratching Kismet’s head. The dog was still shaking with excitement and appreciated the touch. Maggie reached out and placed a comforting hand on his back, noticing her brother’s anxiety.

From there, hugs of relief were exchanged in the group. Pheonyx released Kismet from his sit command and warned him not to jump on people. The pup went up to each of the new people, butting their legs with his blocky head in greeting. Smiles lit up dirty faces and Pheonyx felt a sense of pride, knowing that his dog could bring a bit of happiness to people who were experiencing a plethora of hardship. Kismet’s wiggly body went from the young blonde woman, to the woman with short gray hair, to the man in the fishing hat. Each one of them gave him a head scratch and body pat. Lastly, the dog ended up in front of the man with the crossbow. Pheonyx tensed a bit. Yes, the man was incredibly hot. But he also was very gruff and had a hard edge to his energy. Pheonyx didn’t want him to be angered by a rambunctious dog. But his worry was for naught. The man wasn’t as open with his affection for the dog, but there was a whisper of a smile at the edges of his lips. He dropped one of his hands from his crossbow and let Kismet sniff the dirty digits. Taking it as an open invitation, the pup rubbed his head against the man’s large hand. Thick fingers deftly scratched behind his soft, floppy ears and a look of bliss filled Kismet’s chocolate brown eyes. Pheonyx couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the attention Kismet was getting from the man. He would kill to have those calloused fingers scratching behind his own ear.

“We’re about to have the service for Otis. If your people would like to attend, they’re welcome to.”, Hershel said to everyone before leading Beth, Jimmy, Patricia, and Maggie towards the copse of trees where they decided to place a marker for the deceased man. With the FEMA center being overrun, there was no chance of getting Otis's body back for a burial. So early that morning, Jimmy and Glenn had started a large rock pile as a memorial for the man who gave his life to save Carl’s.

Everyone gathered around the tribute. Choosing to stand a few feet away from the service, Pheonyx quietly told Kismet to sit and placed his hand on the dog’s head, more for his comfort than Kismet’s. The only sounds around them were the sniffling from Beth and Patricia, and the whistling of the trees as a light breeze blew through the farm.

Hershel pulled out his bible, the one his father had handed down to him, and began to recite some verses. Each person, even those from Rick’s group, took turns placing rocks onto Otis’s memorial. Pheonyx tuned it all out, choosing to stare out into the field, watching the tree line to make sure none of the dead snuck up on them. He was only brought back to reality when Hershel asked Shane to share Otis’s last moments. The man protested, panic filling his brown eyes. But Patricia pleaded with him, wanting him to reassure her that Otis’s death had meaning. Pheonyx had to hand it to the man, he did have a way with words. His voice was very reminiscent of a football coach, giving an inspirational speech before a homecoming game. Pheonyx knew he was lying though. He was too detailed. Focusing on small details too much. People who go through extreme trauma like that don’t remember the small details. He sounded like he was reading from a newspaper article. Feeling his anger rise, Pheonyx sneered and turned his head so no one could see his reaction.

Carl and Sophia, think of them. Pheonyx thought and took a deep breath. If Hershel finds out Shane is lying, he will throw the group off the farm.

The only thing he was grateful for was that Patricia was placated by Shane’s words. She was wiping her tears and smiling as Shane placed a rock on top of the pile. Hershel had everyone bow their head in a brief moment of silence for the deceased man. With everyone’s eyes averted, Pheonyx took that moment to step forward and grab a rock from the wheelbarrow. The dirt from it smeared on his hand. The weight of the rock symbolic of his grief, Pheonyx placed the stone on top of the memorial. Those few seconds were all he allowed himself to feel the pain from losing Otis. He didn’t have enough room in his heart for more and a sense of foreboding told him that this was only the first of a long line of deaths yet to come. 

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