#no she won’t pay child support

[starlooove]

Guys big daddy got pregnant and gave birth to Wanda. And blonda.

[avocad1s]

Note: This has been in my drafts for a while, so while I’m finishing Part Seven, I’ll post this.

Character Included: Zhongli, Venti, Ei, Tsaritsa, Xiao, Ganyu, Diluc, Ningguang, Childe, Scaramouche, Dottore

This is long so everyone else is utc! :>

As the Creator, suitors will seek to win your attention. Your inherent beauty is unparalleled, many could only imagine to be graced with your physical or verbal affections. So when word gets out that you want to be with someone romantically, everyone will jump at the opportunity.

If you pick one of the ARCHONS, no one in Teyvat would be surprised. It was obvious you valued them the most out of everyone in Teyvat, they had the strongest connection to you.

If you pick is Zhongli, that is when his identity as the former Geo Archon is officially revealed. Many were surprised to see that their Archon never died, and others questioned why he wanted to take a mortal form in the first place. However none of those things mattered when he was the one you held dear.

Liyue as a whole held a ton of pride it was their Archon you wanted to be with. That means you’ll want to stay in their nation permanently, no? For Zhongli, this is a moment he has waited millennia’s for. He always knew he was your most devoted, everything he’s done was for the betterment of Teyvat and you. When it comes to your relationship, He will do anything to make you happy. If it’s as small as getting you your own Serenitea Pot? Consider it done. If it’s something as major as becoming the Geo Archon again? He’ll do it in a heartbeat.

As much as he cares for you, Zhongli knows that you still have matters to attend to in the other nations. He would be glad to go with you if you wanted but he also has no problem staying in Liyue until you return. He’s waited this long and now that he has you, being apart for a little bit won’t hurt (at least that’s what he tells himself after you’re gone for two weeks).

-

Considered to be the weakest of the seven, Venti is ecstatic that he is the one you want to be with. He has a carefree and playful nature that bleeds into his nation naturally, but even if he doesn’t show his devotion as strongly as Zhongli, it’s still present.

He enjoys doing any activity with you, do you enjoy wine? Well let him take you to Diluc’s Tavern for the best wine you can drink. Naturally he always offers to pay, but unknown to you he’ll just put it on his never ending tab. (not that anyone would ever charge you for anything, you’re their God!). Do you enjoy his singing? He’s absolutely flattered! Let him sing you all the songs he knows, and eventually you’ll two will be able to perform duets of the songs you enjoy the most.

Just like in Liyue, Venti’s true identity will be revealed once your relationship is announced. Mondstadt will be overjoyed, not only has Lord Barbatos returned but he has secured the love of the Creator themselves. You should do expect lots of songs made about you two. You both will be a symbol of love in the nation of Freedom. Not only that, Mondstadt will plan many festivals throughout the year dedicated to the two of you. (Perhaps even a marriage?)

Just like his nation, Venti values freedom above all else. He would never want to hold you back from doing anything you love, so if you wish to visit other nations he has no problem with it. Of course there will be times he’d want to go with you, especially if the nation you’re going to is having some event in your name but Mondstadt is his home and that’s where he likes to stay. Don’t worry though, he will always be waiting for your return and he will have more songs to sing and stories to recite while you both relax in Windrise.

-

This could go one of two ways with Ei.

If you choose her during the vision hunt decree, it would solidify in her head that what she’s doing is right and that even her Creator supports it. She would be way more harsh in pursuing her view of eternity, the fight with the rebellious army would end quickly once the Shogun joins the battlefield. Now they aren’t just disrespecting her, they are disrespecting you. She will not allow that.

The citizens of Teyvat would be conflicted. Should they get rid of their visions? Do you not like them? Maybe you’ll show them they same value if they didn’t have them anymore. It would certainly be a mess for you to clean.

Also in this scenario leaving Inazuma would be… difficult. Ei doesn’t understand why you want to leave, what can those nations offer you that she can’t. She’s doing this all for you and her sister, can’t you see that?

Now if you choose her after the Traveler’s involvement in Inazuma, she would be different. Now she’s trying to find another way to pursue eternity and having you there to support and help her definitely makes her feel better about the situation. She wants to have a better relationship with her nation but she doesn’t know how to go about that, but everyone adores you so being with you should help! At least she hopes.

On the rare occasion she decides to walk around Inazuma city she would be happy if you go with her. She can be a bit awkward at times since she doesn’t believe she should indulge herself but if you tell her she can have all the dango and dango milk she desires she’ll come around to the idea. Especially if you’re indulging with her.

-

“Oh… You’re picking the Tsaritsa? Oh no! There’s no problem with that, you can pick whoever you like Your Grace.”

That is a line you’d hear all the time after announcing your affections for the ice queen. Not many people can think of Snezhnaya without thinking of the Fatui and all of the… things they’ve done in each nation.

Although to the rest of the world, the groups motives are unknown it must be something you support if you harbor affection for the founder of the Fatui, right?

No matter, even if people would have their objections to the union, no one would dare say anything. The Fatui’s power would only grow stronger, many would believe that going against them now means that they go against you. (They might even use that to their advantage)

The Tsaritsa cares deeply for you. As if you are a flame, her cold persona melts immediately when she’s in the presence of you. She’d do absolutely anything for you, and I mean anything. She’s already forsaken her relationships with her fellow Archons so if you make any requests about your distaste of other nations she will waste no time taking care of it.

Unlike the other Archons, she’s is open to killing for you, even if she doesn’t do it herself, she has a lot of powerful people who can take care of it for her.

When it comes to you leaving the nation, she’ll be reluctant. Snezhnaya has everything you need, why would you want to go anywhere else? Are you cold? She can easily get you some warmer clothes or warm you up herself. She’ll come up with any excuse to keep you to here. Don’t get it wrong though, she still has lots of respect for you and your word is still law. If you stay stubborn about leaving the snowy nation, she’ll give up and let you leave. But she will always have an eye on you so don’t worry :)

-

If you pick one of the ADEPTI Liyue feels honored, you may not have feelings for their Archon but the Adepti are the next best thing, right? The rest of Teyvat are a bit confused, what’s so special about these illuminated beasts that caught your attention?

The tactful Ganyu is conflicted if she can only pick one of her two lives. Humanity or the Adepti. Is she capable of doing both? She’ll try her hardest, her contract with Rex Lapis and her position as the secretary to the Liyue Qixing makes her schedule impossibly full. However she will always make time for you.

You mean everything to her, when she fought in the Archon War by Rex Lapis’ side it was for you. Being with you is a dream come true, it was something she always fantasized about. Although she never thought she’d actually catch your eye.

Anytime you’re in Liyue she’ll attach herself to your side catering to your every need. For once she doesn’t mind putting off her work if it means she can spend more time with you. She’ll take you to best places to eat in Liyue, bring you to drink tea with the rest of the Adepti, and if you wish to watch her spar with the Conquerors Of Demons. Well don’t blame her is she shows off a bit.

Once your stay in Liyue comes to an end, Ganyu will drown herself in her work. She has so much catching up to do and even though she regrets it now, she knows she’ll do it again once you come back to her.

-

Oh Xiao… he believes he doesn’t deserves the value you give him. As much as he cares and loves you, he came to terms that he’d only watch you from afar. He will protect Liyue for you so you can enjoy the greatest things this world has to offer. So why? He wants to ask. All of the blood he has shed over the centuries, how can you feel this way about him?

It’s obvious that Xiao has a good amount of self- depreciation, he feels as if he has to push everyone he cares about away. All of his fellow Yaksha has fallen and Xiao doesn’t want to drag anyone down with him.

Yet staying away from you is hard for him, when all you want is to be with him how can he refuse a request from his God? He fears that getting to close to you would makes his worst nightmare come true, but eating Almond Tofu with you won’t hurt anything… and maybe looking at the stars on top of Wangshuu Inn?

You are a double edged sword for Xiao, being with you makes him fear you may get hurt. However when you two are apart, he feels his karmic debt downing him.

But if you don’t show affections for him until after his time in the Chasm with Yelan and the others, he would be drastically different. He now realizes that his life, like everyone else’s, has meaning. He doesn’t have to push the ones he cares for away and he doesn’t have to constantly sacrifice himself for others.

In this instance Xiao would try way harder when it comes to being with you, he doesn’t know much about relationships or any type of customs that comes with it, but he will try for you. He doesn’t want to disappoint.

-

So it’s not the Archons nor the Adepti you desire? Well that’s completely fine! There are many other influential people that live in Teyvat. Some might even call them the LEADERS of the nation they reside in. Or maybe they are just very dependable and have gained everyone’s trust and respect.

Oh so it’s Master Diluc that you desire? Well no one in Mondstadt can blame you. He is the most desired bachelor in the nation of freedom after all. Although many are disappointed that they won’t have a chance with the tavern owner anymore, they also can’t help but feel a bit relieved that it’s you he’s with.

And my oh my, Diluc is just as surprised that you want him too, but it’s a welcome surprise. After his father died and his relationship with his brother became… strained you were all he had left. He would pray to you daily about his wine business, his tavern, or even his secret identity as the Darknight Hero.

Once you descend, his devotion to you becomes stronger.

He doesn’t trust the Knights with your safety, we all know he believes they are incompetent so once you step into Mondstadt, expect Diluc to basically be glued to your side. You want anything from the shops? Let him buy it! He has more than enough Mora to buy anything you desire. Do you want some wine? Please allow him to escort you to Dawn Winery for the finest wine he has.

Speaking of Dawn Winery, Diluc would prefer if you’d stay there. The Fatui bought out the nicest inn Mondstadt has to offer, and even though they explicitly stated they had no problem with their Crestor staying there, Diluc doesn’t want you to. He has a big issue with the Fatui and as long as you are in Mondstadt, they have no chance getting near you.

Diluc doesn’t mind when you depart Mondstadt, he knows how busy you are and he has important work to get done himself. Unless you are leaving for Snezhnaya, he will try to convince you to go somewhere else. If that doesn’t work, he will worry constantly worry about your safety in the claws of the Fatui. His prayers to you would increase until you’re back in his arms again.

-

There is no such thing as a secret in Liyue, so when you show affections Ningguang. Everyone in Liyue will find out fast. Not much is known about Ningguang and all of the things she does for Liyue, people will scramble to catch even a spec of knowledge that falls from the Jade Chamber.

But one thing everyone knows about the woman is how much she loves you. Before you descended, her daily routine would consist of praying to you as soon as she wakes, working, and praying again before she lays to rest. When Liyue throws celebrations in your name, she would give you the most lavish offerings. Not one person in Teyvat would be able to match anything she gives you.

Anytime you’re in Liyue she will force insist that you stay in her home. Have you seen a better place in Teyvat? She doubts it! Don’t forget about the amazing view she has up there too. Ningguang will also handle all of the expenses for anything you desire, she’s arguably the richest woman in Teyvat there is not one thing you’d want that would be out of her budget. If her God wants it, you will have it

She’d treat you to the most luxurious meals you will ever have, making sure everything is adjusted to your tastes. Even if the spices you like don’t originate from Liyue, she will send people to go get whatever you need. All that matters to her is to see you happy.

-

Erm, Your Grace? The one you desire is a FATUI HARBINGER? You should stay away from the likes of them. They have no good intentions, all they do is exploit innocent people and gain power over the other nations. The Fatui has no respect for…

There are only four things Childe cares for, his family, the Tsaritsa, fighting, and you. As he grew up, his family told him how amazing you were and all he dreamed about was meeting you face to face, and when he became a Fatui Harbinger he knew that would be possible.

However he got more than he would’ve ever imagined. He got to call you his.

Childe has no issue killing anyone for you, if anyone goes against you, he will take care of it.

Unlike anyone before, Childe will want to go everywhere with you, he’s already a Harbinger so he’s used to traveling to all of the nations and not only that, he has the money to go anywhere too (thank Pantalone for that smh)

He will rub this in the faces of his comrades, he’s the youngest Harbinger, the lowest ranked but he still managed to snag your attention? Yeah, they’re not living this down.

When it’s just the two of you though he’s soft, he’d love for you to meet his family. They mean so much to him just like you do, to have you all in the same room would make him so happy.

-

Where should I start with the Balladeer? He‘s a puppet and doesn’t have a heart, but these feeling he has for you is strong.

At first he tries to push you away, his… mother cares so much for you and as he tries to distance himself from her, he thought that meant he had to hate you. But he couldn’t…

As he tried to find meaning within himself, everyone kept telling him to turn to you. Even his own friend that tragically died had told him that your divine light would guide him in the right direction. He didn’t want to listen.

Once he had joined the Fatui he figured he wouldn’t hear about you again, but oh boy was he wrong. He hadn’t met anyone more devoted to you than this group, everything they do is for you. All of the killing, exploiting, experimenting, and lying was done in your name and honor.

Scaramouche needed something to latch on to, his mother thought he was useless, and unbeknownst to him at the time, his attachment to the Fatui was a complete lie.

He will try to be useful in any way he can. The Fatui wouldn’t matter to him anymore, getting his hands on the Electro Gnosis doesn’t matter, all that matters is what you want.

With you around, he finally has something to fill his heart with, he will do anything and everything not to upset you. The last thing he wants is for you to throw him away like everyone else.

-

So it’s the Doctor that you want? Can’t say that I blame you…

On the surface, it would seem that Dottore doesn’t worship you. He won’t deny your existence if asked but if he’s asked if he worships you, he’s closed off about it.

Even in his days in the Akademiya he would always pray to you for luck before his studies or exams (not that he needed it). When he was interested in ancient machines and wanted to know more, he would pray to you for a breakthrough to prove to the Akademiya scholars and sages that this is what they should be studying. However he was chased out before that could happen.

He didn’t blame you for it, in fact, leaving Sumeru had given him a better opportunity, the Fatui. They actually funded any experiment he desired, whether it was about the ancient machines, the Archons, or the secrets of Teyvat, he would know it all.

However once you arrived, you took all his attention.

It’s not that he wanted to experiment on your per say, it’s just… he wanted to know more about you! You’re the God of Gods, you have power people on Teyvat could only imagine having. Being able to take a closer look at you would mean everything.

Once the two of you become close, Sumeru are the first to regret it, the one you favor is someone they had thrown out of their nation not just once, but twice. They feel absolutely foolish.

Since you’re a God, Dottore definitely believes your have greater intelligence than the God of Wisdom herself and he would love to “poke at your brain” if you allow him, he would ask you questions about wherever you were before coming to Teyvat and how Teyvat was many centuries ago.

If this is before his time in Sumeru and creating his own God, he would still have his Segments from previous times in his life. Yeah… they’re all devoted to you too. So if you like Dottore, that means them too right?

I think it’s clear that he and his Segments do not get along, they’d all be fighting for your attention lmao (obviously he wins all the time) but if Dottore is too busy with his Harbinger duties he doesn’t mind if you want to spend time with them. It’s better than you running to someone else for attention.

Note: I am also working on a masterlist atm so that should be out once part seven comes out! 🫡

© avocad1s please do not plagiarize or post to any other website

[livwritessometimes]

F1 Uni Series: Intro Part 2

: Now that you know about ‘The Grid.’ Let us take a look at the other group in this series.

: All these people were randomly assigned to the same guide on the first day of Uni and ya rest is history

: Prev | Oscar’s Version

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

…

Y/n L/n

• Y/n L/n, claims to be the best thing that has every happened to F1 University

• Struggles to pay rent which is why she lives with Alex and Dylan (even though she has money to support her daily coffee obsession)

• Friends with Daniel and Pierre (she feels that Daniel is her spirit animal and she just tolerates Pierre)

Alexandra Saint Mleux

• Alexandra Saint Mleux, the classy Art History Major

• For her friends she is Alex, the kid who almost burned down her (Y/n and Dylan’s) apartment while trying to make popcorn

• She believes that she can read auras just because she went to a carnival as a kid and a psychic told her that she has ‘the gift’

Dylan O'Brien

• Dylan O’Brien, thinks he’s the only voice of reason in the group (he’s not)

• Likes to scare people by claiming he can hear voices in his head (Psychology major does that to a person)

• Had the fattest crush on peppa pig growing up (even though bacon is his favourite thing to eat)

Renee Rapp

• Renee Rapp, the actual voice of reason of this group (Mother in other words)

• As a kid she realised 2 things while watching Judge Judy: first she wants to be a lawyer and second that her love for Judy was more than just admiration

• Likes to believe that the rest of her group won’t be alive without her there (it’s true)

Chris Briney

• Christopher Briney, the clumsy nurse studying at F1 University

• Most of the time he has to use his knowledge on himself (boy trips on air istg)

• Has an apartment with Jordan but doesn’t know that it’s haunted

Francisca Cerqueira Gomez

• Francisca Cerqueira Gomez or Kika

• Her dream is to live like a rich soccer mom who drinks vodka from a flask during the game

• Believes she’s the next best fashion designer (she is) also has a secret beef with Lewis because they both want to have their collection win the end term runway project

Jordan Fisher

• Jordan Fisher, son of a famous businessman

• His dad wanted him to pursue business but Jordan was like nah and went for music instead

• He drowned as a child and his heart stopped for like 2 seconds and ever since then he claims that he can “see ghosts.” He also didn’t tell Chris (his roommate) that their house is haunted

…

Tags: @regalbanshee | @be-your-coffee-pot | @mrsbrxkkxr | @princessria127 | @moonraysandstars | @prettiest-at-the-party | @theblueblub | @magixpracticality | @slytherinholland | @overlyexcitedoutlaw | @marvel-at-stucky | @crumbssss | @a-beaverhausen

[ashwhowrites]

Yay! Your request is open!! 🥰 I hope this makes sense to you. I don’t see any rules that you don’t write for but I’m going to giving try. If you’re not comfortable with, ignore it.

Rockstar!Eddie x pregnant!reader: angst/fluff; eddie have gone pretty much all over the world for the band. He kept the promise that he’ll be home to his wife before a baby comes but the flight was delayed and worried he won’t be home. He really needs a miracle.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Dad's promise

Eddie was having the time of his life on tour with his band. They traveled all over the world and had their last show. He couldn't wait to be home with his wife. She was amazing and supported Eddie's dream. She only had one rule- he HAD to be home for the birth.

He promised he would not miss the birth of their first child and he did everything in his power to stand by that. He was rushing the band to the airport, refusing to let any of them stop for snacks or even use the bathroom. He wanted to be on the flight on time and go home to his wife.

He talked to her every day and he missed her like crazy. He got her and the baby a gift from every stop on the tour, he didn't care that he had to pay for another carry-on. His phone was blowing up from Y/N, alerting him that she was going into labor and he needed to get home as fast as he could.

He was sitting in his seat, practically shaking as he looked around. A flight attendant walked past and he was quick to call out to her.

"Excuse me, how long until we take off?"

"Should be any minute, sir." She said, a big smile on her face as she walked away. Eddie groaned but accepted the answer. He tried to calm himself down but it was clear he was panicking.

"We'll get you there as fast as we can, kid." Eddie's manager said as he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I have to make it back. If I don't she'll never forgive me and I won't forgive myself." Eddie said he closed his eyes as he tried to keep his breathing stable.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. We are looking at an hour delay and will continue to give updates throughout the hour. Thank you."

"Are you fucking serious?" Eddie groaned, and a few people turned to look at him with a disapproving look. But he didn't care, he was about to have a panic attack.

"Just breathe, Eddie. There's a chance she still might be in labor by the time we arrive." His manager said but Eddie was unbuckling from his seat.

"Not a chance I'm willing to take. I made a promise and I'm not letting her do this alone." Eddie snapped, grabbing his bags and demanding for the doors to open.

~~~

"Where is he?" Y/N cried, sweat covering her body as she screamed out. The pain was becoming unbearable and she was getting scared Eddie wasn't going to make it.

"I'm sure he'll be here any minute. Keep breathing," the nurse said as she allowed Y/N to grip her hand.

"How close am I?" Y/N asked, her eyes traveled to the door.

"The baby is ready now," the doctor said, Y/N shook her head no as he sat down.

"No, no. We have to wait for my husband! He's coming!" She panicked

"I'm sorry but we can't wait," the doctor said. Y/N begged and begged but the doctor continued to prep for the baby.

Y/N cried but did what she had to do. She gripped the nurse's hand and began to push.

~

Eddie ran into the hospital, smacking into the front desk as he frantically asked for his wife's room.

"I'll take you there and prep you"

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief that he made it in time, following behind the lady as she took him through the doors.

He listened carefully as the lady told him what to do and how to wear the appropriate clothes. His hands were shaking, wishing the lady would stop talking and let him in the damn room.

Once she told him the number, he was running down the hallway. His eyes scanned the numbers as fast as he could.

~

Y/N screamed as she continued to push, her sweat and tears mixing as they fell down her neck.

"I see the head, keep pushing, Y/N. You got this!" The doctor encouraged. Y/N nodded and took a second to breathe.

The door burst open, and Eddie came running in. Once they made eye contact, they both sighed with relief.

"Oh, thank God," Y/N laughed. Eddie smiled and was quick to switch spots with the nurse. He grabbed her hand and gave it a small kiss.

"I'm here, I'm here. You can do it, love." He whispered to her, but she kept her eyes on him. She smiled through her tears and nodded.

"I tried to make them wait"

Eddie chucked at her words, "That's okay. I'm here so let's do this, yeah? Have us a baby?"

She nodded and turned back to the doctor, her hand holding Eddie's as she began to push again. She felt far less scared now that he was here.

With a few final pushes, the sound of a baby crying filled the room. Eddie kept his hand with her but moved to see the baby.

"Congratulations, you have a baby girl"

Eddie leaned over and kissed Y/N's sweaty forehead, pushing back her hair.

"You did it!" He smiled, kissing her again and again.

Once they cleared the baby up, the doctor passed her to Y/N.

"She's beautiful," Y/N gasped. She held the tiny baby in her arms, her heart full.

"Just like you," Eddie whispered, speaking as softly as he could. He reached over and softly touched the baby's head.

"I can't believe I'm a girl Dad"

Y/N looked up at him, watching as his eyes filled with tears. Eddie felt her staring and looked back at her. He never thought he'd have his own little family in a million years, but here he was.

"You two are going to be my whole world"

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[tarotwithavi]

Which Disney princess would you be and why?

Timeless reading

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

This is a general reading so take what resonates and leave the rest!

Masterlist 🍒 Extended masterlist

Paid services

I am currently running short on funds and am unable to pay my rent, I would really appreciate some help 🙏🏻

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT 🫶🏻💞

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 1

If you were to embody a Disney princess, you'd likely resonate deeply with Mulan and Moana.

Starting with Mulan, there’s a natural connection here due to your deep respect and love for your family and culture. Just like Mulan, you feel a strong responsibility to protect and honor your family. This could mean taking on the role of looking after your father, possibly even working with him or supporting his business. You don’t see these responsibilities as burdens, but rather as an honor, much like Mulan stepping up to protect her father and family when they needed her the most. You have that same fire within you—a drive that makes you stand up for the people you care about.

Your path, like Moana’s, is not confined by societal expectations. You’re someone who values independence and is ready to challenge the limits of what others think you should be or do. You’re always learning, always growing, and you’re not content with just “following the rules.” You want to make your own path, just as Moana did when she set out on her journey across the ocean, even though her entire village expected her to stay put. There's a deep explorer within you, someone who wants to experience life beyond traditional boundaries and limitations.

One thing that truly defines you is your straightforwardness. You’re not one to dance around the point you say what you mean, directly and with confidence. You may even have a sharp or deep voice that demands respect and conveys authority. People know where they stand with you, and that honesty is something that draws others to you and gains their respect.

Your courageous nature shines through in every part of your life. You’re not afraid to take the lead, to stand up for what’s right, and to go after your goals no matter how long it may take. In many ways, you have a warrior spirit; you’re determined, ambitious, and won’t settle for anything less than what you’ve dreamed of achieving. Like Mulan on the battlefield and Moana on her journey across the sea, you face challenges head-on, fully committed to coming out victorious.

This fierce independence is a core part of who you are, and it shows in your reluctance to rely on others for help. You’ve learned, maybe from a young age, to take responsibility for your own life and decisions. It’s possible you’ve had significant responsibilities from a young age, perhaps as the eldest child or someone others depended on, which has made you resourceful and strong. Now, you’re in a place where you’re even more eager to carve your own path and live life on your terms.

Curiosity and intelligence are two of your standout traits. You’re someone who questions everything, eager to understand the world in a deep way, and you don’t just accept things at face value. This makes you a natural explorer, someone constantly learning and searching for meaning, whether it’s through intellectual pursuits, travel, or self-discovery. You might have a fire or air sign as your Sun, Moon, or Rising.

Random things that may resonate : maroon red, eldest daughter, pretty handsome, short or medium height, group of 3 friends, novels/books, glasses, round eyes, parrot, hats.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 2

If you were to embody a Disney princess, Rapunzel would be a perfect match for you. There’s something about your life journey that aligns with hers a sense of yearning for freedom, adventure, and the desire to find something truly meaningful.

From a young age, you may have felt like you were held back, perhaps by the restrictions of family or the walls of your own home. Like Rapunzel, you sensed that there was a big, exciting world beyond the limits of your surroundings, but you might not have been allowed to step out and explore on your own. It’s possible that you had strict parents or a family that wanted to keep you close and safe, but this may have also made you feel confined. You’ve always known there’s more to life and have longed for the chance to experience it firsthand.

You have many dreams and aspirations, which fuels your journey to find something truly meaningful. Some of you may be in search of your life purpose or even a career that will make you feel alive and fulfilled. There’s a deep sense within you that you’re meant for greatness, but at times, you may feel restricted by family expectations or responsibilities. This drive for something greater keeps pushing you forward, even when it feels challenging to break free from those limitations.

Just as Rapunzel treasured her hair, it seems that you also hold a deep connection to yours. Whether it’s long, well-cared-for, or something you’re known for, your hair might even reflect how you’re feeling. In times of transformation or emotional shifts, you might experiment with your hair, changing it up to mark a new beginning. It’s almost as if your hair is a symbol of your personal growth, a reflection of your resilience, and the beauty that lies within you.

You may feel a bit of a distance in your relationship with your parents or family. It’s not that there’s a lack of love; rather, there may be an invisible barrier that makes true connection challenging. Like Rapunzel, you might feel like you’re waiting for the day when you can break free of these unseen walls and find that sense of freedom and individuality. This may be why you’re drawn to finding your own path, something that defines you and allows you to be yourself without restrictions.

Creativity and spontaneity are other traits that connect you to Rapunzel. You have a spark of imagination and a playful side, someone who can turn any situation into an adventure. Whether it’s through art, ideas, or even just the way you approach life, you know how to make things vibrant and alive. This ability to bring color and joy into the world is something that makes you truly special. Your story is one of discovering yourself, breaking free from constraints, and finding a purpose that fills you with joy. Like Rapunzel, you’re on a journey to step into the world and make it your own, letting nothing hold you back. You have the courage, the creativity, and the strength to shine, and once you step out into your own light, there’s no limit to the magic you’ll create.

Random messages that may resonate: water sign, arts or art major, curly hair, autumn, Taurus, white and red dresses, blindfolded, moving away, knight in shining Armor.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 3

Like Belle, you are someone who values knowledge and understanding. You have a deep appreciation for learning and personal growth, which drives you to explore new ideas and experiences. Just as Belle is often found with her nose in a book, you, too, are likely someone who seeks wisdom and insight, eager to expand your horizons. This thirst for knowledge not only enriches your life but also sets you apart from those around you, much like Belle’s unique perspective in her village.

Your ability to work well with others suggests that you have a collaborative spirit. You understand the importance of teamwork and the power of building relationships. Whether it's through family, friends, or colleagues, you recognize that great things can be achieved when people come together. Just as Belle works with the enchanted objects in the castle, you thrive in environments where you can connect and collaborate, bringing your talents to the table to create something beautiful and meaningful.

However, your journey also includes a sense of transition and growth. You might have experienced significant changes in your life, moving away from familiar surroundings or letting go of old beliefs that no longer serve you. This willingness to embrace change is a sign of your strength. Much like Belle leaving her home for the Beast’s castle, you are open to new experiences that lead to personal transformation.

You possess a nurturing quality, reflecting the warmth and care that Belle shows to those she loves. You likely have a deep sense of empathy, wanting to uplift and support others. This makes you a source of comfort for those around you, and people naturally gravitate toward your kind heart. Just as Belle helps the Beast see the beauty within himself, you have a way of bringing out the best in others, showing them that they are worthy of love and respect.

At the same time, you may find yourself in moments of solitude or deep reflection. Just as Belle often finds solace in her own thoughts, you may cherish your alone time, using it as a way to gain insight into yourself and the world around you. This introspective side allows you to process your experiences, helping you grow into a more well-rounded individual. It’s during these quiet moments that you gain clarity and strengthen your inner resolve.

Your willingness to embrace transformation indicates that you’re not afraid to face challenges head-on. Just as Belle navigates the complexities of her relationship with the Beast, you have the courage to confront difficult situations and seek growth through them. You understand that change can be uncomfortable, but it is often necessary for evolution. This resilience speaks volumes about your character.

Family and legacy are also important themes in your life. Just as Belle values her relationship with her father, you may find that family plays a significant role in shaping who you are. You likely cherish the bonds you have with loved ones and aspire to build a life filled with love and stability. Your dedication to those you care about reflects a desire for lasting connections, much like the legacy that Belle seeks to create in her own life.

However, your journey isn’t without its challenges. Like Belle, who faces conflicts with both societal expectations and personal struggles, you might encounter obstacles that test your determination. You may find yourself in situations where you need to stand your ground and assert your beliefs, navigating conflicts with grace and understanding. Your ability to confront these struggles with poise sets you apart and showcases your inner strength.

Random things that may resonate : ponds/lakes, leadership qualities, physically attractive, lonely, transformative, fever or headaches, competition.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[kckt88]

A Heartbeat Between Us V

Summary:

Y.N moves in with Aemond, however he has trouble dealing with his jealousy as Y.N grows closer to Aegon.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Swearing, Jealousy, Insecurity, Miscommunication, Kissing, Semi Public Sex, P in V, Oral Sex (M Recieving).

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 5576

A.N - I used Zac Gabriel as the face claim for Daeron.

A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)

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

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood

Aemond was almost regretting his suggestion of going baby shopping the moment he stepped foot into the nursery store.

Rows and rows of items surrounded him, none of which he recognized apart from the basics: a cot, a pram and a changing table.

But what was all this other stuff? As he stood there, utterly bewildered, he picked up an odd-looking contraption with tubes and some kind of cup attached. His brow furrowed in confusion as he turned it over in his hands.

"What the hell is this?" he muttered, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

Y.N. appeared beside him and gave him an amused smile. “That’s a breast pump,” she explained, gently taking it from him.

Aemond blinked. "Are you going to-breastfeed?"

Y.N. nodded. “I’ll give it a try. I read in one of those baby books that I can eventually express milk so you can help with feeds if you want.”

He gave a quick nod, relief washing over him. That, at least, made sense. He would be involved in every aspect of their baby's life, even the late-night feedings.

They continued walking through the aisles, moving past shelves lined with more creams, lotions, and baby products than Aemond had ever seen in his life.

“Babies have really sensitive skin,” Y.N. explained, picking up a tub of lotion and reading the label. “We’ll have to be careful with what we buy for them.”

Aemond was still trying to make sense of the endless products when Y.N. casually mentioned, “I’m thinking I’ll have to put the cot in my room, at least for now. My flat doesn’t have a spare room, so I’ll probably look for a bigger place when the baby gets a bit older-”

Without thinking, Aemond blurted out, “-You could come live with me.”

Y.N. stopped, turning to him in surprise.

He shifted awkwardly, realizing how fast he’d said it, but he pressed on. “-I have the room, and I could help more with the baby. I don’t want to miss out on anything-and it just makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, we’re having a child together, and I-I want you to feel supported. I want to be there for everything.”

Aemond started rambling, listing reason after reason, but Y.N. interrupted him with a soft smile, placing her hand on his arm.

"I'd like that," she said quietly, "-as long as I can contribute toward the bills. I won’t let you pay for everything."

A wave of relief and happiness washed over him, and he agreed, already picturing them as a family in his penthouse. His focus shifted when he spotted something on a nearby shelf.

A cot mobile, but not just any mobile—this one had tiny, intricately designed dragons hanging from it. He wound it up, and a soft, gentle lullaby began playing as the dragons turned lazily in the air.

Aemond smiled, his eyes lighting up. “I’ve always liked dragons,” he said, nostalgia filling his voice.

Y.N. smiled, too, remembering how his notebooks in school had been covered in his dragon sketches. “I remember.”

“This one,” Aemond said decisively, picking up the boxed version of the mobile. “This is the one I want for our baby.”

Y.N. nodded, touched by his excitement. It was clear how much this meant to him.

As he cradled the box in his hands, she smiled at him, already imagining their baby lying beneath the mobile, lulled to sleep by the soft music and the gentle movement of the dragons.

"Do you know what kind of pram you want?" Aemond asked, trying to sound knowledgeable but still feeling a little out of his depth.

Y.N. chuckled, taking his hand. “I’ve seen a few possibilities. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Aemond had practically marshalled his siblings into helping with Y.N.'s move, each of them assigned specific tasks.

The moving process was well underway, and he was determined that Y.N. wouldn’t lift a finger—especially not anything heavier than a pillow.

So, while Aegon, Daeron, and Aemond handled the heavy lifting, Y.N. and Helaena sat on the floor of her now almost-empty bedroom, packing the last of her things into boxes.

“Honestly, Aemond, I can carry other things,” Y.N. protested as she folded some clothes into a box.

“Absolutely not,” Aemond replied from across the room.

Helaena snickered, helping Y.N. close a box. “He’s being protective. Just let him.”

Y.N. shook her head fondly, turning back to Helaena. “Men.”

Meanwhile, Aegon, ever the opportunist, had loudly volunteered to help with the bedroom packing.

“I’ll handle the personal items!” he announced with a smirk, only to be met with a swift slap on the back of the head from Aemond.

“Go help move the boxes that are already packed and sealed” Aemond ordered, sending Aegon out of the room with a scowl.

Y.N. had already arranged for most of her furniture to go into storage, having decided that she didn’t need much in the way of bulky items.

There was only one exception: her grandfather's beloved armchair. The old, worn chair didn’t match Aemond’s sleek black-and-white decor at all, but Y.N. had insisted on bringing it with her.

Aemond had stood his ground, but when she tied him up in bed and kept edging him during sex, bringing him to the brink of his orgasm as she rode him only to stop, and after four times of being denied the chance to come he caved in, only for him to end up a begging moaning mess as Y.N overstimulated him.

Now, as Daeron worked through her collection of books and DVDs, he raised an eyebrow at what he found.

“She’s got a lot of horror here,” he remarked, flipping through a few titles. “She seriously likes this stuff?”

Aemond, overhearing, glanced over. “It’s her favourite genre. She’s obsessed with creature features and disaster movies, too.”

“Creature features?” Daeron asked, confused.

“You know, movies with killer sharks or giant, man-eating animals,” Aemond replied nonchalantly.

Daeron laughed, shaking his head. “She’s has weird taste-” he teased, only for his eyes to widen when he pulled out a book from a box. “Oh, hello. What’s this? Fifty Shades of—"

Before Daeron could finish, Aemond snatched the book from his hands. “Fifty Shades of Shite, that’s what,” Aemond grumbled. “Now stop messing around and pack.”

Daeron mock saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

Aemond then made his way to check on Aegon, who had unsurprisingly gotten distracted. His elder brother was rifling through a stack of old letters, his face a picture of mischief.

“What the hell are you doing?” Aemond snapped.

“Found some letters-” Aegon replied, waving one around. “-From Jace”

Aemond frowned deeply, but there was a gnawing sense of curiosity that led him to take a glance over Aegon’s shoulder.

Sure enough, Jace’s love-sick declarations and desperate apologies were scrawled across the pages.

Aemond’s scowl deepened, but despite the irritation boiling inside him, he said, “Just put them back. It’s not our business.”

Aegon, with a dramatic sigh, pretended to comply, but when Aemond wasn’t looking, he tossed the letters into the bin.

“So long, Jace, you fucking idiot,” Aegon muttered under his breath.

When Aemond went back to the bedroom, he found Y.N. and Helaena laughing together, nearly finished with the last of the packing. Y.N. was holding up a small box of condoms, grinning.

“Well,” she chuckled, “I guess we won’t be needing these anymore.”

Before Aemond could respond, Aegon’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Hey, I could use them! Saves me buying more.”

Y.N., completely unbothered, shrugged and tossed the box in his direction. “-I didn’t know you was seeing anyone.”

Aegon caught the box and smirked. “Not currently. But I do have my eye on someone,” he replied smugly. “Just a matter of time before she’s mine.”

Y.N. raised an eyebrow but didn’t press, going back to emptying her drawers.

Meanwhile, Aemond shot his brother a warning glare as Aegon winked suggestively at him, making his blood boil.

“Touch her, and I’ll kill you,” Aemond whispered to Aegon, to which his brother only grinned wider.

Y.N, oblivious to the tension between the brothers, finished packing her things and stood up, hands on her hips.

“Well, I think that’s everything. Let’s get the last boxes out, and then we can head over to the penthouse.”

As Y.N. looked around the penthouse, trying to get her bearings amidst the chaos of moving, she realized something was off.

"Aemond, where are all my things?" she asked, her voice tentative.

Aemond glanced up from the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “They’re in the other spare room,” he said casually, not catching the subtle shift in her expression.

Y.N.’s face fell. “Oh, s-so-I won’t be sharing your room?” she asked, her voice tight with a hint of disappointment.

Aemond, now noticing the change in her mood, looked confused. "I just assumed that you’d want your own space," he replied cautiously. "You know, somewhere you could have to yourself if you ever needed it."

Y.N. forced a smile, though her chest tightened. "N-No, it’s fine, I-I understand," she said quietly before slipping away down the hall and shutting herself into the spare room.

The click of the door felt like a punch to Aemond’s gut.

Aegon, who had been lounging on the couch, shot his brother a look of disbelief. “Well, aren’t you a fucking moron,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Daeron, standing nearby, chimed in with a frown. “You’re in love with her, she’s pregnant with your kid, and you ask her to move in, only to stick her in the spare room? What were you thinking?”

Helaena crossed her arms, giving Aemond a pointed look. “You need to fix this, and fast.” She shoved him gently towards the door.

Aemond swallowed, his stomach churning with guilt as he approached the spare room.

He knocked softly, and after a long moment, he heard her voice call from inside. “Come in.”

Aemond slipped inside, shutting the door gently behind him. Y.N. was sitting on the bed, surrounded by boxes, her eyes red as if she’d been fighting back tears. His heart sank, and he immediately knelt down in front of her, resting his hands on her knees.

“I’m so sorry,” Aemond said earnestly. “I should have talked to you first. I shouldn’t have just assumed anything.”

Y.N. gave him a small smile, but her eyes betrayed her hurt. “It’s okay. I understand.”

Aemond shook his head. “No, it’s not. I-I’ve never really lived with anyone before, not like this-” he confessed, his voice soft. “-As an adult, it’s all new to me. With Alys-she would only stay over every so often, but we never lived together. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Y.N.’s gaze softened as he spoke, her hand moving to cup his face gently. “I get that, Aemond. But it still hurt.”

He closed his eye, leaning into her touch. “I just wanted to make sure you were happy,” he murmured. “Of course, I want you in my bed every night, but I thought you might want a space to call your own. Where you can work on your art or-get away from me when I inevitably annoy you.” He smirked slightly at his own words, but his eyes were full of sincerity.

Y.N. smiled at that, her thumb brushing over his scared cheek. “Can I?” she asked hesitantly, motioning towards his eyepatch.

Aemond nodded, and she carefully slid the patch from his face, revealing his sapphire eye. Y.N. smiled softly, gazing at him. “There. Now I can see you,” she whispered.

The tenderness in her voice, the warmth of her touch—it was more than Aemond could take. He surged forward, capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss.

His hands slid up her thighs to her waist, pushing her back gently until she was lying on the bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress.

The boxes around them were pushed aside, some tumbling onto the floor with a thud, but neither of them cared.

“I want you,” Aemond groaned into her mouth, his voice low and rough with desire.

Y.N. gasped, her breath shaky. “Your brothers and your sister-are here.”

Aemond smirked, his lips brushing against her neck. “We’d better be quiet then,” he teased, his fingers already working to pull her clothes off, his need for her growing with every passing second.

He peeled off his own shirt and lowered his trousers and boxers just enough to free his already hard cock.

Y.N audibly gasped when she felt Aemond’s fingers rubbing her folds.

“O-Oh Aemond” exclaimed Y.N as he slipped a finger inside her, his movements slow and deliberate.

“Always so warm-so wet for me” muttered Aemond as he added another finger, making sure to use his thumb, sweeping it against her pearl.

“I don’t want to wait-please-Aemond take me” whispered Y.N, as she wrapped her legs around Aemond’s waist, holding him as close as she could.

Aemond took his cock in hand, running the head along her warm wet folds, before he pressed inside her, inching forward slowly.

“So beautiful, swollen with my child” whispered Aemond.

“P-Please Aemond” whimpered Vaeda.

Aemond began to move with a slow, deep grinding. His movements deliberate and calculated.

“Gods be good,” panted Y.N.

“Fuck. You were made for me. You were made to fit my cock in this sweet cunt of yours.” breathed Aemond as he increased the pace of this thrusts.

“A-Aemond. Please.” exclaimed Y.N as she brought her hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as his thrusts shift her up and down the bed.

Aemond makes a strangled sort of sound and lowers himself onto Y.N even more, kissing her passionately.

His hips rolling against hers, his cock thrusting in and out.

Y.N kissed him back, threading her fingers through his long silky hair, her nails scraping against his scalp, just the way he likes it.

“Mine” muttered Aemond.

Y.N could feel herself clenching around him as his cock keeps hitting the same spot inside her.

“Ooo Aemond-f-faster. P-please”

Aemond lets out a loud groan as he begins to move faster pounding into her, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing around the room.

“Aemond-Aemond-”

“You’re so fucking perfect-come-come for me” growls Aemond.

“Y-Yes., Aemond” moaned Y.N squirming, the heat shooting across her abdomen as her pleasure peaks, and she explodes, her cunt tightening around Aemond.

Aemond lets out a long low groan, his movements becoming erratic. His cock throbbing as he spills inside her.

Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena were sprawled out on the sofa in Aemond’s penthouse, waiting for any sign of their brother.

Daeron leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a curious expression on his face. “Do you think he’s apologized yet?”

Aegon snickered, shaking his head with amusement. “If the sound of the headboard banging against the wall wasn’t enough of an indication, then our brother’s groaning sure was,” he said with a laugh, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Just then, the bedroom door creaked open, and Aemond stepped out, looking a little dishevelled.

He was shirtless, wearing only his jeans, his long silver hair was a tousled mess, and his cheeks tinged pink with exertion. Aegon immediately started snickering again, earning a scowl from Aemond.

Helaena raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh of her own. “Is Y.N. going to join us?” she asked innocently, though the amused glint in her eye didn’t go unnoticed.

Aemond rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s, uh-sleeping,” he replied, trying to sound casual.

Daeron’s eyes widened dramatically. “Sleeping? What did you do to her?”

Aegon let out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think we all heard what he did to her,” he said with a teasing grin, leaning back on the couch as if thoroughly entertained by the whole situation.

Aemond shot him a glare. “Shut up, Aegon.”

Still grinning, Aegon shrugged. “Hey, no judgment. Just, you know-it was loud.”

Aemond sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “It’s probably best if you all leave” he said, attempting to regain his composure. “Thanks for your help today, but I think we’ll have to rearrange game night-”

Helaena smiled as she stood up, gathering her things. “You’re welcome, Aemond”.

“Fine, but you’re buying the beer next game night.” Aegon quipped with a smirk as he got to his feet.

Aemond rolled his eye but nodded. “Fine, I’ll buy the beer.”

As Daeron grabbed his jacket, he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “Bet Y.N. sleeps well tonight-”

Aemond shot him a final look of warning before quickly ushering all three of them toward the door.

“Out. All of you,” he commanded, though the faint smile on his lips showed he wasn’t truly angry.

As they left the penthouse, Aegon couldn’t resist one last comment, leaning back to shout, “Next time, at least soundproof the walls!”

The door slammed behind them, and Aemond leaned against it, exhaling deeply. Peace and quiet at last.

Aemond couldn't help but think that asking Y.N. to move in with him was one of the best decisions he'd ever made.

Life with her was everything he hadn't realized he'd been missing. They settled into an easy rhythm—taking turns cooking, sharing quiet evenings together, and every night, he found himself tangled in bed with her, relishing the warmth and intimacy that had quickly become second nature to them both.

What Aemond liked most, though, was watching Y.N. work. She had claimed a small corner of the penthouse, transforming it into her personal workspace.

All her materials were meticulously arranged—paints, brushes, restoration tools—and her attention to detail was astonishing. He found himself mesmerized by the faces she made when she was deep in concentration.

But more than anything, what drove him wild was as her pregnancy progressed, she often got quite warm, so she would often wear shorts and a sports bra whilst working from home.

The sight of her growing belly made him ache with desire and he spent his nights with his head between her thighs before he made love to her.

He was bursting with pride when she completed the restoration of a statue for the museum and watching her meticulously package up the finished piece, her smile radiant with accomplishment, was a memory he knew he’d never forget.

When she received an invite to the unveiling and insisted that he join her, he agreed without hesitation.

The night of the unveiling, Y.N. looked breathtaking. Her floor-length dress hugged her in all the right places, accentuating her swollen belly and ample curves. Aemond couldn’t take his eye off her the entire evening.

She was in her element, accepting praise and accolades for her work with grace and humility, glowing in the spotlight she so deserved. His heart swelled with pride every time someone came up to compliment her on the restoration.

Of course, the press had been there, snapping photos and recording every moment. It didn’t take long for the word to spread: Aemond Targaryen has not only moved on from Alys Rivers but is also expecting a child with someone new.

 He had known it was inevitable, but he thanked the gods they’d managed to keep it quiet for as long as they had.

Y.N. had handled the attention well, her smile never faltering, though Aemond could sense her relief when they finally made their way back home that night.

Now, with the unveiling behind them, his thoughts turned to their upcoming 20-week scan. He was counting down the days with barely contained excitement.

Soon, they’d find out the gender of the baby, and Aemond could finally start working on the nursery, something he’d been quietly planning in his mind for weeks.

The thought of preparing a space for their child filled him with a warmth that was both unfamiliar and exhilarating.

Aemond and Y.N. attended the 20-week scan with excitement buzzing between them. As Marie, moved the probe over Y.N.'s belly, the room filled with the rhythmic sound of their baby’s heartbeat.

Aemond held Y.N.'s hand tightly, his eye fixed on the monitor, watching in awe as their child appeared in crisp black and white. Everything looked perfect.

When Marie asked if they wanted to know the baby’s gender, Y.N. hesitated for a moment before saying, "Could you write it down and give it to Aemond?" Marie smiled knowingly and handed Aemond an envelope, now containing the secret of their baby's gender.

With the knowledge safely tucked away in his pocket, Aemond's mind quickly shifted to the nursery.

As soon as they got home, he began putting his plans into action.

He forbade Y.N. from stepping foot inside the room and told her the nursery would be a surprise. Soon after, various pieces of furniture were delivered—a cot, a changing table, and everything else they’d need.

To put everything together, Aemond enlisted the help of Aegon and Daeron, which turned into a comical disaster. As Y.N. sat in the living room, she could hear them bickering and swearing through the closed door.

At least twice, she heard Aemond threaten to kill Aegon, which was quickly followed by laughter and the unmistakable clinking of beer bottles.

The constant back and forth amused her—at least it sounded like they were having a good time.

Once the furniture was set up, she made a meal for them all, something hearty to thank them for their efforts.

 When the brothers emerged from the nursery, sweaty but satisfied, Aegon and Daeron couldn't stop smirking and elbowing each other as they watched Aemond gravitate toward Y.N.

He stood behind her, hands resting on her bump as she dished up the food, his eye soft and full of affection.

"Man, he’s totally whipped," Aegon muttered to Daeron, who snickered in agreement.

They couldn’t understand why Aemond hadn’t told Y.N. he was in love with her yet. Or even why he hadn’t asked her to officially be his girlfriend.

Aegon, never one to keep his thoughts to himself, brought it up. “So, bro,” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye, “what’s the deal? Why haven’t you asked Y.N. to be your girlfriend yet? You’re practically married at this point.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, and at first, he ignored the question, but Aegon kept poking at him, goading him with teasing comments.

Finally, Aemond snapped, “Because I’m too scared, alright?”

His brothers went quiet, surprised by his outburst. Aemond sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his admission.

“I don’t know if she feels the same way. I don’t want to ruin what we have by saying something stupid.”

Aegon and Daeron exchanged a glance, their teasing expressions softening. Aegon, for once, was thoughtful. “You’ve got nothing to be scared of. Look at how she looks at you. I’m pretty sure she’s crazy about you.”

Daeron nodded. “And you’re going to be parents soon. You should tell her how you feel before it drives you mad.”

Aemond knew they were right, but the fear of rejection gnawed at him. What if telling her the truth upset the balance they’d found? He sighed, casting a glance toward the kitchen where Y.N. was laughing softly to herself, completely unaware of the conversation.

One day, he promised himself. One day soon.

At 30 weeks pregnant, Y.N. had been waiting anxiously to see the nursery Aemond had been working on.

He had kept her out of the room for weeks, insisting that it had to be perfect before she could see it.

But now, standing at the door, Aemond smiled and gently took her hands. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, guiding her carefully into the room.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trusting him completely as he led her forward.

Once they were inside, he took a deep breath. “Okay,” he whispered, “Open-”

Y.N.’s eyes fluttered open, and she gasped. The room was stunning. Cream and soft blue hues covered the walls, and the sunlight from the window illuminated the room in a warm, peaceful glow.

The crib stood proudly, adorned with the dragon mobile, its tiny wings gently swaying in the air. A beautifully crafted changing table was positioned nearby, and resting on it was a knitted blue blanket—Helaena’s handiwork.

“A boy-” Y.N. marvelled, her voice barely above a whisper as she admired every detail. She ran her fingers over the blanket, her heart swelling with love for the baby growing inside her.

Then her eyes caught sight of something—a sheet hanging over a section of the wall above the crib.

“What’s that for?” she asked, curiosity piqued.

Aemond stepped closer, his expression soft but a little nervous. “It’s covering the baby’s name,” he explained, watching her face carefully.

Y.N. looked at him in surprise. “But we haven’t really decided on names yet.”

Aemond smiled sheepishly. “I, uh-I kind of already chose one.”

Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, but before she could say anything else, Aemond reached up and pulled the sheet away from the wall, revealing the name he had picked.

Y.N. took one look and burst into tears.

Aemond’s eyes widened in panic as he immediately wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, holding her close. “I thought—I’m sorry if I got it wrong. I can change it.”

But Y.N. shook her head, burying her face against his chest as she sobbed. “No,” she managed to say between tears, “I love it. I love it so much.”

A wave of relief washed over Aemond, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Thank the gods,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. Y.N. wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes still misty but filled with joy.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze drifting back to the wall, where her grandfather’s name was painted in elegant script. “It’s not a traditional Targaryen name though”

Aemond smiled, gently wiping her tears away with his thumb. “So, we break the tradition,” he said softly, his hand resting on her bump. “It’s our choice what to name our son. Besides, we can give him a Targaryen middle name”.

Y.N. placed her hand over his, just as the baby kicked. They both smiled, feeling the life they had created together move beneath their hands.

Aemond chuckled softly. “I think he approves.”

Y.N. laughed, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “I think he does.”

Aemond looked around the nursery, a sense of satisfaction and pride in his work. “Now all that’s left is to get the pram and some clothes, and we’ll be good to go.”

Y.N. nodded, her heart full as she took in the room again, but mostly she looked at Aemond, marvelling at how lucky she was to be building a family with him.

Aemond arrived home after an exhausting day, his mind already wandering to Y.N. and the baby.

As he opened the door, his ears picked up on Y.N.'s voice, sounding almost-playful.

"No, Aegon, it's too hard," she said, a teasing edge to her tone.

Aegon groaned. "So? You love it when it’s hard."

Aemond froze, blood boiling in his veins as he heard Y.N. laugh.

"Okay, fine, let's try again, but give me some time to adjust," she responded.

Aemond saw red. Was his brother seriously fucking the mother of his child in his penthouse? Right under his nose? Whilst she was pregnant?

Rage bubbling inside him, Aemond stormed into the living room, heart pounding.

"What the hell is going on here?" he bellowed, fully prepared to murder Aegon with his bare hands.

To his surprise, he found Y.N. sitting cross-legged on the floor with a PlayStation controller in her hand.

Aegon was sprawled on the sofa beside her, also holding a controller, looking completely unbothered by Aemond's entrance.

"We're playing Mortal Kombat, genius," Aegon said with a lazy grin. "What’s got you so worked up?"

Aemond blinked, his fury deflating but still simmering beneath the surface. "What are you doing here, Aegon?" he snapped, irritation lacing his voice.

Aegon shrugged. "Y.N. called me. She was home alone, and wanted some company."

Aemond shot Y.N. a frustrated look. “You could’ve called me. I would’ve come home.”

Y.N. waved him off. “You were busy, Aemond. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Aegon smirked, clearly enjoying the tension between them. “I’ll be heading out anyway,” he said, standing up and stretching. “Got a date with Cerelle Lannister tonight. As much as I’d love to stick around and wind you up further, I’ve got better things to do.”

“Yeah, fuck off” Aemond muttered, earning a chiding look from Y.N.

“Aemond, don’t be rude,” she said, though Aegon laughed it off.

“No worries. I’m used to his mood swings by now.” He leaned over and planted an exaggerated kiss on Y.N.’s head, grinning when Aemond’s face twisted with annoyance.

“Later, you two,” he called over his shoulder, strolling out of the penthouse as if he hadn’t just wound his brother up like a toy.

The door shut with a soft click, leaving Aemond glaring after him.

"I don’t want him alone here with you," Aemond grumbled, still fuming.

Y.N. rolled her eyes and placed the controller down. “Why? It’s just Aegon.”

"You know how my brother is," Aemond said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t trust him.”

“I’m more than capable of handling Aegon," Y.N. shot back, her voice firm.

Aemond sighed. "I never said you weren’t capable. I just—" He paused, realizing how this was coming across. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I’m just trying to protect you, Y.N. That's all."

Y.N. crossed her arms, a look of mild irritation on her face. "Well, it sounds like you're doubting me."

Her moods had been unpredictable lately. One moment, she’d be happy and relaxed, the next, she was crying over something as simple as the wrong pasta brand or getting angry when he suggested healthier meals instead of her craving for fast food.

More than once, she had snapped at him to stay away, only to come to him moments later in tears, asking him to hold her or take her to bed.

As Y.N. gazed up at him from her position on the floor, Aemond braced himself, unsure of which mood she might descend into now.

But instead of another emotional outburst, she surprised him. Y.N. shifted to her knees, her eyes glinting with mischief as her fingers reached for his belt buckle.

Aemond’s breath hitched, his pulse quickening. "Y.N.," he warned, his voice low, but she silenced him with a smirk, undoing his trousers.

Next thing he knew, Y.N’s warm, wet mouth was wrapped around his soft cock.

Aemond put his hand on the back of her head as started to suck his cock and caress his balls.

Soon his cock sprang to life, and Aemond was losing his mind at the sight of her pink lips stretched around his hard length.

Y.N’s tongue ran around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

“Fuck, Y.N!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through her hair.

Y.N ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.

Aemond’s heart almost stopped when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.

Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.

When Y.N engulfed Aemond’s cock in her mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut.

Y.N was driving him crazy.

Aemond forced himself to open his eyes, he had to watch her sucking his cock. 

“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.

Aemond knew it would push him too far to control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Y.N’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.

Her head moving back and forth, her pink lips stretched around him. Oh, it was heaven.

Y.N smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth. 

“It feels so good-” groaned Aemond his hand gripping her hair as he began to fuck her face.

“Hmmm” muttered Y.N as she dug her fingers into the flesh of his arse.

“I’m not going to last-if you carry on” Aemond admitted.

Y.N responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of Aemond’s cock as she could, whilst her other hand gently cupped his balls.

“Shit Y.N! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.

She took every last drop, swallowing his seed and licking him clean.

When he recovered, Aemond saw Y.N’s self-satisfied smile.

“Was that to your liking?” asked Y.N.

“Y-Yes” gasped Aemond.

“Now can I have a Burger King?”

Aemond who was still dazed from his orgasm simply nodded. Damn that mouth of hers, he thought, his mind still reeling.

As he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, he couldn’t help but shake his head with a mixture of admiration and disbelief.

He’d come home angry, jealous, ready to fight. Now, he was standing there, utterly undone, with no memory of why he was even frustrated in the first place.

TBC

[alyakthedorklord]

Welcome to Danny’s Part 2

People have been asking for more of this ^^ so here you go, have a really long word vomit of stuff i think is funny

(IM NOT WRITING THIS FIC GDI I HAVE ENOUGH WIP’S!)

Danny’s restaurant is ALSO manned by-

Tucker, who will fix your tech for free, has tattoos of hieroglyphics and lines of code that shift around when he gets busy.

Sam, who makes an express line for veggie orders. If you try to order meat from sam all the potted plants start trembling.

Jazz, who has a special booth in the back and Magically makes people dump their deepest secrets to her in streamlined Liminal Powers Therapy. (It’s a bit weird but hey the people she targets feel better so whatevs.)

Dani, who shares pictures from tourist traps she's visited, though there’s also some REALLY WEIRD pics of alternate realities and cult shenanigans mixed in. Some of the older patrons are concerned. She’s a little too young to do all this alone- actually, how old is she? Her father looks like he’s in his early twenties…

Dan, who is working here while “on parole” and often loudly argues with Danny about it.

“I don’t want to work in your stupid shop, Dad!”

Dan is two whole feet taller than danny and three times as wide i will not be taking constructive criticism. He’s a whole silver fox. There are some ladies who have a crush on him and they’re really concerned if he’s legal bc danny is younger than them how is Dan his child-

“Dan, how old are you?”

“I don’t know, like, a hundred sixty something?”

(Lady turns to look at Danny, who shrugs and smiles.) “time dilation. What a world we live in. Dan, kiddo, can you get some more napkins from the back?”

“Ugh, fine, dad.”

The first villain Danny ACTUALLY fights isn’t the Joker. It’s Condiment King. Dan runs away from him, which is already weird bc guy is MASSIVE, and the condiment king chases him bc YES SOMEONE FINALLY FEARS HIM PROPERLY.

Danny bursts out of the shop in righteous fatherly fury and beats the snot out of him. Everyones is confused bc… what? Dan is massive? Why is he scared? Why is the twink beating the snot out of condiment king?

“Dan had a traumatic experience with Burger Sauce.” Danny explains, glaring down at the rouge at his feet. He kicks him, growls, “Don’t mess with my kid.” And walks back inside.

No one asks, bc this is gotham. Asking is rude, and also it lessens the Mystery that is Danny’s. No one knows how the kids came into existence. No one knows, before someone from out of town (metropolis, ugh) asks about the sign.

The sign outside the shop says:

Welcome to Danny’s!

Do no harm and no harm shall befall you.

Start nothing and nothing will be ended.

We have baseball bats and fists and a mean swing.

This establishment does not serve- guys in white (suits), Vlad, Transphobes, Vlad, Clowns, VLAD.

Do not ask for the secret menu. If you can get it, Danny will offer it.

(Don’t scare the other customers, please.)

When asked who Vlad is, bc he’s banned three times, Danny just kind of sighs.

“He’s my kid's other parent. He’s an obsessive creep who completely ignores Danielle because she’s a girl, rolling in money but won’t pay his child support. You know how it is.”

Several goons ask what he looks like so they can keep an eye out. Dani happily tells them “look at Dan, take away Dad’s features, then convert 30% of his height and weight into smarminess.”

It's an effective description. Vlad gets full body tackled the moment he enters the neighborhood. Danny gives the goons free fudge (family recipe, one of the restaurants signatures)

One of the reasons Danny’s is so popular is bc its open 24/7. (Unless its one of those weird times where all the doors are locked and if you look through the window blinds theres nothing but a starry void.) One of the reasons Danny’s is so weird is bc Danny is ALWAYS behind the counter. Always. Round the clock. He doesn’t sleep, eat, anything. Some people swear he has a twin he swaps out with (clones).

Sometimes, after a really difficult customer, Danny will let out a really long sigh and mutter “time out” before glitching into a new position, with a new shirt and combed hair. No one mentions it.

Theres a deal that’s just, “beat danny in a fight you eat for free.”

The deal extends to both Dan and Dani as well. Even if you lose you get fudge as a reward for courage.

No one ever wins.

One time, a couple brought their kid, recently discharged from the hospital. Danny comes over to them and grins. “Hey, kiddo! Bet you gave your parents a scare, huh? Pulled through in the end. That means you get the secret menu!”

Parents: hey wtf?

Danny, handing over a perfectly normal menu: 😀

Kid: “ooh mommy look at the glowy stars!”

Parents: !?!?!?

Danny: 😁

Old man Dave, whose heart has stopped like three times now: “Oh don’t worry about that, prices are the same and it will help your kid feel much better. Danny’s just a little weird.”

After all, it’s not just full ghosts that get the menu. If you’ve been dead, heart stopped, soul out of body before being popped back into place, then you get it. There’s actually a pretty high number of people who get it, bc this is Gotham. People get resuscitated after rogue attacks. The ecto actually helps stabilize their soul after getting jerked between life and death so rudely.

The secret menu that they’re given is just a normal menu, scribbled over top with an ecto pen, invisible to non-secret menu havers. Different “ecto-levels” to choose from, and three extra dishes. There’s also instructions to get into the “back room” for those who can’t go intangible, though it comes with a disclaimer “not for the faint of heart.”

There’s also a small note at the bottom- “do not share food.”

Anyways, as per original post. Tim herds Joker into Danny’s radar bc he Cannot Deal Right Now. He salutes Danny, who waves back, grinning like he didn’t just come at the Clown Prince of Crime like a feral badger on crack cocaine. “Heya, Red Robin! You want a coffee?”

“Please.” Tim sighs. “You’re the best, Danny.”

Jason looks between tim and the shop danny just vanished into. “Uh, what?”

“Danny doesn’t like clowns.” Tim explains. “Or condiment king. They get close, Danny takes them out.”

Jason is incredibly confused, bc he just came back from an out of town mission, but this place is right on the edge of his territory and he should definitely know about it. He asks tim, who just shrugs.

“That shop is weird. It’s like a grocery store at 3am. I stumbled in there after a rough night and Danny just whipped me up the best coffee i've ever had. Still can’t find their website. I swear it’s bigger on the inside and the door keeps swapping from one side of that fire hydrant to the other.”

Danny comes out and passes Tim a massive coffee cup. “Come back and talk shop with tucker, okay? You’re welcome any time. Both of you, actually.”

He gives Jason a weird look and then goes back inside.

Jason, who is a little concerned that the reverence tim has is more than his average weird worship of coffee (it's just that good) goes back the next day in civvies.

He gets offered the secret menu, danny does the eye thing, Jason retreats to look at the secret menu. Unsure of what just happened, he texts tim.

Jason: Why was i given a “secret menu”

Tim: WTF WHAT DID YOU DO TO GET THAT

Jason: IDK THATS WHY IM TEXTING YOU

tim: I'VE BEEN GOING FOR MONTHS I’M A LOYAL PATRON WHAT DO YOU HAVE THAT I DONT

Jason: the secret menu apparently (image)

Tim: …thats just the normal menu???

Jason: no? It looks like a kid went ham with a neon green marker tf?

Duke: you know this is the family chat right?

Steph: order the waffles

Jason: you order the waffles. Wtf is an ecto-level.

Jason asks for what danny recommends, Danny immediately gives him a milkshake and tells him it's on the house bc he “looks rough.”

Jason is kind if offended, bc he actually got a decent sleep- but then he tries it and its like.

Oh.

Now. Between the stink Tim is making, and the sudden worship that Jason has of this shops milkshakes, the BatFamily is now Curious and will Investigate.

Are the milkshakes really that good?

The full force of the Wayne Family™ isn’t exactly subtle, so they go in twos and threes over the course of a week.

Damian gets offered the secret menu, and is also directed towards Sam’s express vegetarian line. Danny just Knew. Damian accuses Tim and/or Jason of pulling a prank on him, but they both swear up and down they didn’t say anything.

Both Steph (i think? Did she fake her death or actually die idk) and Cass get the secret menu, and they keep trying to ask Tim what certain things on the menu mean. Tim Cannot See what they’re talking about. He’s starting to get frustrated. Is it some sort of magic spell?

Tim takes Kon to Danny’s. (Is it a date? A test date on a low-stakes investigation? Maybe.) Danny, who is really starting to enjoy messing with Tim, gleefully offers Kon the secret menu, and Tim the normal one. Tim bangs his head on the table.

Dick doesn’t get a secret menu, but he does notice a couple disappear through the wall. He’s almost certain he’s seen them before, but it will be a while before he remembers Kitty and Johnny from his early Robin Days.

Duke is also not offered a secret menu, but he can see the writing anyways. He can also see that some of the patrons have weird auras, and what on EARTH is up with Danny himself? He tries to ignore it, up until Steph gets him to order one of the specials off Cass’s (secret) menu. And Danny just kind of sharpens, the air going cold.

“I didn’t give you that menu. Just because you can read it, doesn’t mean you want it. Order off the right menu, please.”

Duke, freaked the hell out by the Biblically Accurate Horror that Danny is shifting into, orders off the right menu and apologizes.

“Oh, it’s alright!” Danny flips back to cheerful in seconds. “It’s just that it wouldn’t be completely healthy for you to eat it, even if you are part immortal.”

Duke bluescreens.

Alright, somethings definitely going on.

Tim and Jason both order the same thing- an oreo milkshake, one off the secret menu, one off the normal menu. Jason confirms the one from the normal menu does not taste the same and isn’t as good. Tim cannot confirm the other way around, because Jason nearly punches him when he attempts to taste it.

They take samples home, analyze them, and go over anecdotes from other patrons, trying to figure out what makes Danny’s so weird. What makes Kon, Cass, Jason, and Damian different?

Wait a second. Kon, Cass, Jason, Damian. The ones that died and came back to life.

It’s around this time that Dick remembers where he’s seen Kitty and Johnny before. Lovers from two houses, both alike in (in)dignity, had a romeo-and-juliet-esque escapade across Gotham, ending in high speed chase with Kitty’s gangster father and a fatal motorcycle accident. Both are dead. Both are in Danny’s.

Danny’s has something to do with death.

Having heard a couple stories about food of the dead, they notify Bruce (who is very concerned as to what exactly his children have been putting in their mouths) and then call in the magic users of the justice league.

It’s a mess. Dan calls Constantine a whore. Deadman and Secret (i think thats Tim’s ghost friend?) get abducted to the backroom. Dani clocks Capt. Marvel as another kid who looks older than he actually is, with magic powers, and his showing him her REALLY interesting travel photos. Zatanna is like “this place needs an exorcism” and danny just goes “ma’am please don’t exorcize my customers.”

Tag list (if you saw me attempt this before no you didn’t)

@nappinginhell @apointlessbox @thegatorsgoose @chaos-n-kindness @mimilikey @phoenixdemonqueen @treepainting @sjrose1216 @akikkobara @malice-of-the-sunrise @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @randomkiddoscrewingaround @call-me-strega @blankliferain @somera-rubina @wordsgohere95 @rukiaai @mirellacoco @stargazing-bookwyrm @bathildaburp @littlefeather345

[storm-angel989]

Fix it, Vox. (Valentino x Daughter)

SHOUT OUT TO absolut3lyn0t  for all the help with the Spanish and for being a FANTASTIC human in general. You are AMAZING!

The weight of her body jolted him awake. A tiny head against his chest, and muffled tears. The bright red clock flashed on his nightstand. Three thirty. He had literally gotten to bed less than a half hour ago. He tried to ignore the aching in his head as he struggled to talk to the sobbing child. 

“Beibita, what’s the matter?” He mumbled as he wrapped his arms around the crying toddler. “Shush. Papi is here, niñita. Vuelve a dormir.”

“Papi, will the angels come and get me?” She choked out. “Daddy, I’m scared. I don’t wanna get ex..er…”

Now he had her full attention. ¿De que ella habla? What was she talking about?

“Princessa, no one is going to take you away. Who told you that?” He asked, trying to mask the fury in his voice. “Papi is here, bebita. Shush.” He rocked her as gently as he could as he tried to bite back his exhaustion.

Of all the weekends for her mother to go out of town. 

“The tv said so, I heard it! I…I…” She sobbed. 

God fucking damn it. He told that son of a bitch. He told him his daughter wasn’t asleep. He warned him not to change the channel for another half hour until they could be sure she was safe and sound in bed and not about to try to sneak out to curl up with them or try to con him into letting her watch just one more episode. After all, she did it every single night. But no, Vox  insisted he put on the news right away. He insisted it would be fine. And now here Valentino was, paying the goddamn price. 

“Shush. Papi won’t let anything happen to you, okay?” He said softly as he sat up. “Come on, bebita. Papi will make you a warm bottle and you can sleep with me, okay, pequeño amor?.”

She cuddled closer into his chest and he lifted her up effortlessly. He carried her cradled against him to the kitchen. With one arm supporting the weight of his daughter, the other carefully warmed up a bottle of milk and flicked it on his wrist before trying to hand it to the toddler. 

“Drink up, mi amore.” 

She refused to take it. “I want Mommy! “And Uncie and Auntie! The angels are gonna get them! Papi, we have to do something!” She burst into another round of tears.

God fucking damn it, Vox. He silently cursed as he set the bottle off to the side and tried to sooth the hysterical toddler. “Mommy will be back tomorrow night, shush,” he replied softly as he bounced her soothing

He looked at the clock. Four am. There was a good chance Vox was up and in his office. A twinge of anger made its way through Valentino. If Vox was awake, it was only fair that he helped clean up the mess he made. 

“Let’s go see if Uncie Voxxy is awake, alright mi amore? Your mommy will be home tomorrow and Auntie Velvette is sleeping.” He shifted her weight and pressed the bottle to her lips, willing her to take it. A full tummy was the key to getting her to sleep- he learned that when she was first born. “Come on, bebita.”

She refused and he sighed in frustration. He nabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and walked towards the elevator, hoping that by the time they got to Vox’s office she would have at least settled down. 

No such luck. 

The sound of a crying, screaming baby tested every single bit of Valentino's last nerve. Even if it was his daughter, and he loved her with every single beat of his heart, he was absolutely at his wits end.  There was no reason for her to be this afraid; it was absolutely uncalled for. Vox should have listened and then maybe, just maybe he would still be asleep. By the time he walked into Vox’s office, every single part of him struggled to maintain control. He stormed from the elevator and stomped over the shark tanks. 

“You broke it, you fix it,” he growled as he tried to hand reader over to Vox. “I told you not to put on the news. I told you she wasn’t asleep yet, and now look!” 

The anger in her fathers voice only triggered more tears. Desperately she clung to Valentino’s neck and dug her hands into his shirt. “Daddy!” 

Valentino put a protective hand on her back and glared at Vox. 

Vox was up on his feet in a matter of moments. “Woah. Alright, take a breath Val. What happened?” His eye began to swirl. “Babygirl, why are we crying? Come here, Val. Take my spot. Sit down. Breathe. You relax. She’ll relax.” He took the bottle from Valentino’s hand and set it off to the side. 

“The angels are gonna get us,” Reader sobbed into Valentino’s shoulder. “I saw it on TV!”

Valentino shot Vox a look and guilt spread across Vox’s features. 

“Shit. I mean, fuck. Sweetie. Baby. It wasn’t real, I promise. It was a story. Like..” he struggled for a moment and then his expression lit up. “Like a bedtime story your Daddy tells you. It was just a scary story, it’s not real. I promise. Now come to Uncle Voxxy, let me hold you sweetie.” 

She reached up to him and Vox wrapped her in his hold as he rocked her. She heaved a hiccup and Vox gently tilted her head up to meet his eye. “Who controls the television, my sweet baby girl?”

 “Uncle Voxxy….” she answered tearily. 

“Right, sweetheart. So wouldn’t I know best?” He asked as he stroked her hair. “Uncle Voxxy, and Daddy and Mommy and Auntie Vel won’t let anything happen. I promise babydoll.” He picked up the still warm bottle and guided it to her mouth. 

She sucked on it gently as he continued to rock her. Carefully, Vox handed her back to Valentino. Valentino carefully laid her head over his heart as Vox wrapped her in the blanket. 

“Duerme bebe niña papá está aquí,”  he said softly. “You’re safe, we’re safe, it's okay.”

To both their relief, she fell asleep almost instantly, soothed by the beating of Valentino’s heart, a full tummy, and the feeling of security. Vox caught the bottle as it fell out of her hands and set it on the desk.

“Are you okay Val?” Vox asked softly. “You look like shit.” 

“I’m exhausted, Vox. I went to bed like thirty minutes before this all began,” he replied tiredly. “I need you or Vel to watch her this morning- I’m begging you.”

“Just call me when she wakes up,” Vox replied quickly. “Or you can give her to me now. I can work with her in my arms.” 

“No, I can take her for a few hours…”

“Nonsense. Give me the baby. Take a breath. And get some sleep.” Carefully, Vox lifted the bundle to his own chest and laid her head carefully against his heart. “She won’t wake up now that she’s out. Go get some rest, Val. When you wake up you can take her back.”

Grateful, and with one last kiss on his sleeping daughter's forehead, Valentino made his way back upstairs. In his control room, Vox adjusted the little girl against his body as little as he possibly could. Guilt washed over him as he worked. Valentino had warned him she wasn’t asleep. It was his own fault for scaring her so badly, and for his friend to be pushed beyond the point of exhaustion. 

“I’m so sorry I scared you. It won’t happen again,” he said quietly to the sleeping toddler. He kissed her on the forehead. “And I promise we will always keep you safe.”

Against him, she snuggled closer and he leaned back in his chair as he held the sleeping toddler. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out an exhale. To his surprise, she did the same. He felt something stir deep in his chest. Love. Protectiveness. The desire to never let this sweet little girl feel afraid again. 

“You’re safe, babygirl,” he whispered as he held her carefully. “I promise.”

[befemininenow]

Very late Mother's Day post, but it's better late than never. This is more or less relating to the events that trans girls/women go through depending on the circumstance. No matter what they go through, they all have at least a supportive maternal figure they can rely to. On one of them, they are even a maternal figure themselves. I wrote a small story based on using these illustrations, each with their different scenario. All of them include a supporting mother. To those mothers who support their trans children, old or young, you are all amazing! To all of you, I hope your Mother’s Day was amazing. Hugs to all of you!

Captions are made by me. Pictures belong to Themirrorsotherside of DeviantArt. AI art created through DreamAI.

Based on the order of the pics:

Pic 1 shows a young Japanese trans girl trying out her grandmother’s old sailor fuku after she comes out to her. Being the only mother figure for the girl, grandma supports her journey and will do anything to see her now granddaughter smile.

Pic 2 shows a South Asian (probably Indian) trans girl wearing her mother’s old wedding dress and admiring their reflection. The mother may not understand at first, but she will do anything to make her child happy. Pic 3 shows the same girl (now an adult) years after her transition, ready to marry her groom. The mother is very proud of her trans daughter for becoming the woman she was meant to be.

Pic 4 is about a trans woman wanting to see her kids after her ex-wife divorced her and prohibited her from seeing her kids, despite being legally allowed to see them and paying support. On the other hand, her ex mother-in-law, who has been supportive of her transition and is against her daughter‘s bigoted views, hatches an idea. Pic 5 shows the ex mother-in-law on the right being excited of her daughter-in-law’s successful makeover. The plan is to disguise as her ex-wife’s lost “cousin” who is paying a visit to see her “aunt”. She does this as a way to challenge her daughter’s views and for her grandchildren, who have been eager to see their other parent for years, to reunite with them.

Pic 6 shows a young teen seeing a girl in their mirror after months of dealing with gender dysphoria. They’re afraid that their mother won’t accept them for being transgender. Pic 7 is the young teen, who has come out to her mother, admiring her reflection after her mother gives them a makeover. The young trans girl tears up after seeing their reflection match her inner identity, as well as receiving the maternal love and support she desired.

Pic 8 is about a trans mother and daughter being happy together. Despite them having troubled times due to a rocky transition, her daughter loves her parent and accepts her as her new mom due to her only mother figure abandoning them after she cheats on her then-husband.

Extra pic 9: Some grow up wishing to be like their role models while others may wish to be like their mother. Princess Ariel knows what it’s like to not be born human, so it’s no surprise she’s your role model. However, how would things turn out if she was your mother?

Extra pic 10: Turns out, both of you are similar. Ariel knows what it’s like to be born in the wrong body and has made it possible for you to live in the right one as well. Nothing is as beautiful as seeing you smile the brightest since forever.

[redroomreflections]

Gentle Hands Chapter 4

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha suspects Reader is in an abusive relationship and tries to convince her to leave

4/10

W/c: 4.1k

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Warning: Domestic violence

Note: i see yall like this

“The Avengers are aiding in the kidnapping of my baby,” He yells into the street.

Dread fills your body seeing Keith on the surveillance camera of Avenger’s Tower. He’s ranting and yelling out into the street to whoever would listen. Passersby don’t pay him any mind for the most part. A few people stop to look at all of the commotions but in the end, they go on with their day too. He’s making a complete and utter fool of himself.

“I’m calling the police now,” He shouts. “They have my little girl in there.” Through the screen, you can see him pull out his phone and call what you assume is the police. That is until two large, burly men in suits exit the tower to grab him. They pick him up as if he weighs nothing to escort him into the tower.

“Where are they taking him?” You ask. You tear your eyes away from the phone screen to look over at Natasha. She turns off the phone screen.

“Inside until he shuts up probably,” She answers.

“And will they hurt him?”

“Not unless he misbehaves,” Somehow this is the wrong answer and it fills you with dread. You didn’t want problems. You didn’t want anyone getting into trouble because of you. Natasha can tell by the look on your face what you’re thinking. “Look, y/n, whatever happens to him is his own fault.”

“Can we go to the Tower?” You interrupt. You know it’s an incredibly stupid ask but you’d like to make things right.

“What?”

“Can we go? We need to settle all of this and if he wants to see Kaia maybe I should let him see her,” You begin to ramble. “She’s his child too and I took her and he’s probably so worried.”

“Y/n, no, absolutely not I can’t let you do that,”

You frown. “You can’t let me? I thought here I had my own autonomy. I could make my own choices.”

“And you do.” Natasha lies her hand atop yours. “I don’t think you should go and see him. He’s unpredictable.”

“He won’t hurt me in front of anyone if that’s what you’re saying,” You shift uncomfortably. “Please, Nat, I promise I won’t go anywhere alone with him. I just…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence. You don’t know how to rationalize any of this. You don’t want to do this. Yet something tells you that you should. For closure.

Natasha sighs. She can’t do this. She doesn’t want to allow this. Yet she knows she has no say. She’s supposed to be supportive. Not that this particular incident should have her support. She wants to be there for you. So she will.

“If he tries anything I kill him,” She stands to go and grab her keys.

You nod wordlessly. Here’s to goodbyes.

You get Kaia ready with her new coat and shoes. You strap her into the car seat Natasha bought. As you click the straps into the base, you look at your daughter as she gives you a smile. She only has a couple of teeth right now. Which she shows proudly. She rubs her hands along the fabric of the chair, kicking her legs out, as she prepares herself for your new adventure. You don’t take cars often so this should be fun for her. You linger for a few seconds, cherishing this moment of peace with her before you climb into the passenger seat.

Natasha puts the car into drive and sets off towards the tower. There’s a random pop song playing lowly on the radio. Natasha is stoic and a bit cold as you leave the unfamiliar neighborhood.

“I know you think I’m stupid.” You break the silence and she cuts her eyes to you. “You wouldn’t be the first.” You look out of the window and then back to her. “I love him. In some silly naive way, I think he loves me too. I just…I can’t keep letting him hit me you’re right.” Your hand travels to your belly, where your unborn child is housed safely. “If he hadn’t stopped. If Kaia hadn’t woken up I think I would have lost them. Kaia. The baby. My choice would have been taken from me and I don’t know if I would have been able to live after that.”

Natasha doesn’t speak for a long time. This makes you uneasy. You’d like to know what she’s thinking. You’re unsure of everything and you want to know how she feels. At a stop Natasha speaks. She flicks on the left turn indicator, the noise a bit distracting, as she looks over at you.

“I don’t think you’re stupid at all,” She starts. “I think it doesn’t matter what I think. You have to decide for yourself what you want. I am here. Every step of the way. Once Upon a Time, I couldn't leave either. I was under a very powerful man's wing and thought I had it good at one point. Until I was shown better.” She glances into the backseat at Kaia who’s surprisingly still awake. “Will you let me show you better?” She turns back to the front.

“I would like that,” You nod. The rest of the drive is ridden in silence.

The tower is not too far away from Natasha’s hideaway. Though it takes a bit longer to get there. She takes a lot of turns and detours and you’re sure this is to keep potential followers off your trail. She is still an Avenger. When she comes to the tower she takes the back entrance. It’s only for authorized individuals and even you weren’t allowed down here. The parking garage houses many cars and trucks. Natasha’s black Corvette is parked on one side of the garage. It’s sideways and taking up more than its fair share of space. You know no one dares to confront her about it. Either that or she just didn’t care.

You’re taking Kaia out of her seat when the nerves hit you. What exactly are you doing? How can you justify any of this? What if Keith does blow up? What if he does try something? What if he didn’t? You don’t have much time to think as you step into the elevator with Kaia in your arms and Natasha’s comforting hand on your lower back. You keep your eyes focused on the numbers on the wall. They rise steadily until you reach the fifty-fourth floor. These floors are usually used for Avenger’s business meetings. No one is usually allowed up here. This also means no one would be coming up if they had a problem.

You follow Natasha into the lobby where a few members of the team are waiting. Suddenly you become self-conscious. You didn’t think to put on makeup or any type of concealer. You look around the room, hoisting Kaia a bit higher in your arms.

“Where is he?” Natasha asks first. Wanda is seated next to Vision and she answers first.

“He’s with Tony and Steve in the conference room,” She points to the room a few feet away. Through the glass, you can spot Tony, Steve, and Sam all standing around the room, glaring him down, not even entertaining Keith’s outbursts. You can’t tell what’s being said from here. Your heart races at the idea of going in there and talking to him. Natasha glances to you before excusing herself. She walks over to the room, not even bothering to knock before she enters. All eyes are on her as she stands with her arms folded. You wonder how this will go.

“Would you like to sit?” Wanda inquires.

“No, I’m, I’m good.” You tuck your face into Kaia’s hair. She’s becoming fussier as she wants to get down and explore.

“I can take her,” Wanda offers. “We have fruit in the kitchen.” She tilts her head towards the doorway. You’re about to decline when you see out of the corner of your eye, that Keith stands from his chair in a fit of rage, only to be forcefully sat down with a hand on his shoulder by Steve.

“Yes, please,” You follow Wanda into the kitchen. She doesn’t treat you any differently. She doesn’t seem horrified by the bruising on your face. She works around you, cutting up a banana into thin slices. Kaia watches in interest, twisting her body around so that she can watch Wanda’s every move. You help her out of her coat, hanging it over a nearby chair before you come back to the counter. “You must have questions.”

“Only if you want to answer,” Wanda shrugs. “I do not wish to pry.”

She holds out a banana slice for Kaia to take. The toddler reaches her hand out before stuffing the fruit into her mouth. She chews loudly, drools leaving her mouth, as she delights in the tasty snack. “I do recognize that he has managed to piss off the entire team. Natasha especially.”

“I don’t have the best track record with relationships,” You begin. “Keith is…”

“The one who did that to your face?” She finishes for you. “I’m no stranger to physical violence from someone who pretends to care for you.” As a product of HYDRA, Wanda has seen her fair share of bruises and bumps. She doesn’t want to preach to you about anything at all.

“I’m sorry I brought this to the tower,” You find yourself apologizing. Even with the distance, you can hear Keith has gotten louder. The commotion has spilled out into the common area. How had he managed to leave?

“Y/n!, Y/n!, where is she?” He yells out. “Where’s my daughter?” He yells. Kaia lifts her head at the sound of her father’s voice. Before she could whine, you pass her to Wanda.

“Keep her safe? Please,” You beg. Wanda nods curtly, bouncing the little one in her arms, as she watches you walk out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

You step a bit further to find Keith fighting his restraints, becoming more erratic by the second, as he yells your name. You try to shake your nerves as you stop in front of him. He calms down considerably at the sight of you. Natasha rushes to your side, whispering into your ear, as the room becomes silent again.

“Y/n, I’m not sure its a good idea,”

“He just wants to talk to me right?” You respond loud enough to hear.

“That’s right,” Keith breathes harshly. “I just want to speak with you and take you home.”

“That won’t be happening,” Steve speaks up.

“I’ll talk with you,” You agree despite Steve’s denial. Before anyone could protest you say “five minutes. Nothing more. Nothing else Keith. If you try anything I will let them hurt you.” You warn him. He nods vehemently. “Let him go.” You request. Steve looks to Natasha for confirmation and she nods her head. This annoys you but it’s on the bottom of your list of things to be addressed. You walk past Kieth and the rest of the team and enter the conference room. You know he’ll follow.

When he does, he closes the door behind him, and for just a second you panic. Though you don’t show him. You can’t show him your weakness. That’s how he gets to you.

“There you are,” He says. He sidles up to your side, his hands cradling your face, as he looks into your eyes. You know the team is watching. “I was going crazy looking for you.” His hand falls to your chin, his eyes scanning your face, and you’re getting no reaction from him.

“Well, you found me,” You turn your head to tear your face from his grasp. You take a few steps backward to further the distance between you. Your stomach is in knots and you can feel nausea making a reappearance. “What do you want, Keith?”

“For you to come home,” He answers. “You and Kaia. Where is she?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” You speak carefully. You know what to say to not tick him off. You know how to play it safe. It’s shame that you do.

“Look, I know,” He clenches his fist. “I know I hurt you and I know what I did is wrong. We’ve talked about this before. I was just afraid to lose you and I get angry and…”

“You make my face look like this,” You say quietly. “Do you know how many times Kaia has seen you hit me, Keith?” You fold your arms under your chest. He doesn’t speak. “How many times we’ve woken her up because you decided to slam me against a wall? How much money I’ve spent on makeup just to hide what you’ve done to me?”

“I’m sorry,” He says. “I’m trying to be better. I’ll go to therapy. Just like you asked. I’ll go to AA and whatever else. I’ll stop seeing that girl. She doesn’t matter to me. You’re the one I want to marry. The one I want.” For a second you believe him. He falls to his knees, placing his hands on your hips, his head buried into your stomach as he cries. Under different circumstances, you might believe him. You do love him. He is trying, right? “Just come home with me. Come home and I’ll make it better. I promise.” He kisses your belly, practically soaking the hem of your shirt before he moves your hands to his head. “Just go get Kaia and we can go home. I need you.” He pleads.

You look up at the ceiling, blinking away tears, as you curse yourself for what you’re about to do. Maybe you are too weak. Maybe this isn’t what you want. He’s all you’ve ever known. You pull yourself from Keith’s arms, leaving them hanging in the air, as you exit the room. You walk past all of the Avengers, avoiding eye contact with them to head for the kitchen. They’ve all been listening. They can see everything. Which is why your next move leaves them perplexed.

Kaia is sitting in Wanda’s lap, tugging at her dark brown curls, as she sings to her.

“Y/n? Are you done talking?” She asks and you don’t even answer. You take Kaia in your arms, kissing the top of her head before you walk with her towards the conference room.

“What are you doing?” Sam questions.

“Hey, y/n, I don’t think you should do that,” Steve warns. Tony makes a noise. As for Natasha. She stays quiet. She knows what you’re about to do. She can’t stand by and watch. You can hear the ding of the elevator just before you walk into the conference room. You swallow down the pain to go and stand in front of Keith again.

“There she is,” Keith grins. He stands tall, clearly feeling victorious, as he pokes at Kaia’s belly. She seems disinterested, though happy to see him. “There’s my girl. Oh, you’re so big.” He smiles. You don’t speak as you watch him interact with her. Tears prick your eyes as Kaia matches his smile. She looks so much like him. Keith gives her another kiss. “I knew you would come home with me.”

Something about that statement startles you into action. Your decision has already been made. Before you have the chance to give up, you speak.

“Say goodbye to Daddy, Kaia.” You whisper brokenly. Keith’s eyes flash to yours. Had he heard you correctly?

“Bye-bye,” Kaia repeats. She’s unaware of the tension between the two of you.

“What do you mean goodbye?” Keith questions. You step back a few inches.

“I can’t go with you, Keith.” You inform him. “I can’t keep doing this.” You shake your head. “She deserves all of me. She deserves to have me forever.” You turn, rushing out of the conference room, spotting Steve and Sam as they step around you. You imagine it's to stop Keith from following after you. You meet Wanda at the end of the hallway where she leads you to the elevators. You can hear Keith yelling again. Screaming this time and you can tell its pain. Whatever they’re doing to him is none of your business anymore. You have yourself and your baby to worry about.

You stand next to Wanda until you reach the first floor of the Avenger’s quarters. Natasha is over by the bar, her head down, her eyes focused on some random object. You’re unsure if she wants to talk with you right now.

“I'll show you where to clean up,” Wanda directs you to a suite a little further down the hall. You recognize this area as Natasha’s. There’s a closed bedroom door, one you know as Natasha’s when she’s here, and another bedroom. This is where Wanda puts you. She closes the door behind the two of you.

“She’s angry with me, isn’t she?” You dare to ask.

“Natasha doesn’t like it when we put ourselves in danger,” Wanda explains. “Though usually its followed by yelling at us. I think with you its special.”

“How so?” You sit Kaia onto the bed. She immediately crawls over to the headboard. She begins to pull the pillows to toss them onto the floor.

“I don’t know if it's my place to say,” Wanda wrings her hands. “For now, don’t worry about it.”

“My life is a mess,” You shake your head. “ I don’t know up from down right now and I definitely don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Lucky for you there’s a billionaire downstairs and a whole team behind you to help you figure it out,” Wanda looks around the room. “I can bring you clothes down. We’re almost the same size. Though you’re a bit curvier than me.” She points out. You look down to yourself and then to Wanda.

“Genetics,” You joke and she laughs quietly.

“You have a beautiful child,”

“Thank you,”

“I’ll be back,” Wanda leaves you to your own devices. When you hear the click of the door shut, you finally sit. You take deep long breaths, feeling the weight of the past few days hit you.

Everything’s changing. For the better.

******************************

Upstairs, in the conference room, Tony stands at the head of the table, eyeing Keith as the younger man rants about how he would be suing. Steve is seething in the corner while Sam stands completely still. Either this guy is dumb or he’s intentionally trying to goad them.

“You can’t do this to me,” Keith seethes. “You can’t keep me from my child. Once I go to the press you guys are done.”

“Is that so?” Tony tilts his head. “See I don’t think anyone in here takes too kindly to threats. Especially from men that put their hands on women.”

“You like knocking her around like that?” Steve questions. “What about that gets you off? Huh? You like seeing her hurt?”

“You don’t know shit,” Keith says snidely.

“We know enough,” Steve frowns.

“She’s not going to fuck you,” Keith grins. Steve raises a brow. He’s trying a different angle. Wanting to come off cocky. As if he has the upper hand. “She’s a prude. Took years to pop her cherry and you think you can get her to drop her pants because you’re some washed-up superhero?”

“Are you really that deluded?” Steve’s jaw ticks. He can’t believe he’s even listening to this guy.

“No, I know her,” Keith shrugs. “Once she realizes that she needs me she’ll come crawling back. She always does. Maybe this time I’ll finally get her to suck my-” Before he can finish his sentence it’s Sam that punches him square in the jaw. He flies back in his chair, spitting out the blood pooling into his mouth mere inches away from Sam’s shoes.

“Watch your mouth,” Sam warns him.

“Or what you’re going to kill me? You don’t have it in you. You’re an Avenger.” Keith smiles.

“He may not but have you heard of The Black Widow?” Tony gestures outside of the room. “She wouldn't hesitate and you know what? I would let her.” Tony hates that he’s referring to Natasha as some sort of killing machine but he needs to get his point across.

“Then I guess that doesn't make any of you better than me,” Keith argues despite his rising nervousness.

“Okay, I’m tired of you talking,” Tony rounds the table. “Here’s what is going to happen. I’m going to have Pepper speak with a lawyer to draw up papers signing away your rights. Then you’re going to take a plane ticket. You’re going to go far far away from here. You’re never going to speak to Y/n or Kaia again.”

“What’s in it for me? You can’t keep me away from my kid.”

“You get to keep all your limbs,” Tony pats his cheek. “She’s better off without you. You don’t have much of a choice.”

“Take the deal,” Steve says.

“I don’t get money or anything?” Keith presses. “How do you know I won’t go to the press anyway?”

“Oh, you won’t,” Tony says. “Unless you wish to find out how ruthless we can be. Avenger or no Avenger. What you did to that girl? You don’t even deserve to be walking right now.”

Tony takes one last look at him. “Get him out of my tower.” He says to the security waiting nearby. “Sign the papers, Keith.” He bids him one last goodbye.

***********************

You don’t venture out of the bedroom until Kaia has fallen asleep. You take a shower first, throwing on a larger hoodie, sans bra, with sweats to match your ensemble. You scrub the parts of your face that don’t hurt to touch. You want to deny the fact that you’re looking for Natasha but it’s true. She must be disappointed in what she thought you were going to do.

Instead, you find Steve. He's eating some kind of sandwich thing you’re not sure about.

“Hey,” You speak softly.

“Hello,” He drops his sandwich onto the saucer. “How are you holding up?”

“I’ve had better days,” You shrug. Your eyes scan the room again.

“She went out,” He supplies and you look at him questioningly. “Natasha. She said she had to go out for something.”

You nod in understanding. She can’t wait for you forever.

“I’m sorry you had to see that today,” You pull at the sleeves of the hoodie.

“I’ve seen worse,” Steve shrugs. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel that you could come to us.”

“For what it’s worth I did,” You furrow your brows. “It’s embarrassing. I didn't want to bother you with my minuscule problems when you battle aliens for a living.”

“Even so,” Steve beckons you over to his side. It’s where he brings you into his arms. He’s safe. Just like Natasha. He’s your friend too. “Your problems are not small. If they are hurting you or they matter to you they’re not small.”

You nod into his neck. As you pull apart the elevator doors open, revealing Natasha, as she steps onto the floor. You wipe away your tears to look over at her.

“Hi,” You wave to her. You spot the bags in her hand. Had she been shopping again?

“Hi,” She waves back. There’s an awkward silence that Steve interrupts.

“I’m just going to go,” He says. “Let me know if you need anything.” He says to you before walking past Natasha.

“I brought the ice cream,” Natasha shakes the bag. “I got one I’ve seen you eat before. Rocky Road. That’s your favorite?” You can see she’s nervous and unsure. That’s a big deal considering just who you are talking to.

“Thank you,” You nod as she begins to put everything away. “Though I don’t think I’ll be eating anything for a while. My stomach is all messed up.” You reveal and her eyes immediately drop down to said body part. “No, everything’s fine. It’s just morning sickness.”

“Happens all day?” She questions.

“All day,” You say exasperatedly. “I’m sorry.” You feel the need to say.

“For what?”

“I don’t know,” You look down at your bare toes. “For bringing you all into this. For making you think I chose him.”

“I wouldn’t be angry if you did,” Natasha admits.

“Because you don’t think you’re anybody’s first choice,”

“This isn’t about me,” Natasha shakes her head.

You understand that. You know it’s too early to be jumping from one relationship to another. You know your feelings are all mixed up and your head is even more jumbled. This shouldn’t be so complicated and yet it is. Yet you can’t help but step closer to her. Her eyes drop to your lips and you want to. God, you want to. You don’t want to be rejected again. So you tuck that thought away.

You throw yourself into Natasha’s arms and she catches you. The hug is long and fulfilling as her strong arms wrap around you. You let out a shuddering breath.

Would it all be okay?

---> next part

[ddarker-dreams]

Nexus V.

Yandere Blade x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, codependency o'clock, implied/mentioned not SFW, coercion and mommy issues. Word count: 10.1k.

Nexus index.

Time is a way to measure reality. 

It allows the woefully inadequate mind of a sentient being to process a sliver of something greater. The senses are a sieve that retains what little they can of the universe’s riptide. Considering this, it’s no wonder the Aeons tend to keep to themselves. How long would you entertain the whims of a speck of dust? You’d gain nothing from it. The dust cannot understand, it lacks the means to properly perceive you. It simply wishes to find a nice, comfortable spot to occupy its days. It can loathe, revere, or fear you, it matters not; for in the end, it’s nothing but a speck of dust. 

So why do the Aeons occasionally make themselves known? What do they stand to gain? Further power, enlightenment, entertainment? 

They should’ve just kept wading through the stellar sea. 

Specks of dust shouldn’t be allowed to wield even an ounce of their power. 

All it does is let them destroy themselves and others in new, horrific ways. 

The white rings around your mother’s pupils shine. 

She subjects Kafka and Blade to concurrent curses. Cutting, snipping, trimming; their psyches are flayed one layer at a time. How she does so rivals a butcher preparing a tender cut more than a doctor performing a delicate surgery. Inky blots propagate along Blade’s vision. From this limited perspective, you can’t determine Kafka’s condition. Not that it would matter, you can barely comprehend what Blade’s going through. 

Mother has to be forming a link, right?

Ideally, both parties consent to a link’s formation. This grants stability and lowers the chances of complications. An unwelcome link is treated with the same hostility as an immune system that’s noticed a germ. It’s sought out, identified, then exterminated. The host may suffer malaise for a time, but if their body is in working order, the problem will sort itself out. 

There has to be more to this, you surmise. Mom, please, don’t let this be the end. You can’t. Not you. 

The disease inflicted on Blade metastasizes; Kafka is likely facing a similar predicament. Memories swarm around him like locusts, buzzing and biting. 

The Zhuming is the womb from which divine weapons are born. It is the warden to the subdued Flint Emperor, whose flames once burned hot enough to rival the stars. These flames will one day exterminate the rampant borisin, the young boy is certain. Whether it be in his lifetime or not doesn’t matter. No child deserves to be made an orphan. He can’t undo what’s been done to him, but he can help prevent it from happening to others. 

“If you believe you are up to the task, I will take you on as my apprentice. What you do with the knowledge I impart is your decision.” 

This Foxian lady sent to retrieve support for the fight against the borisin loves to chat. There’s rarely an instance where a grin can’t be found on her face, wide enough that her eyes must squish to accommodate her exuberance. 

“Just focus on what you want to do, and let fate take its course."

Those who belong to the short-life species cannot grasp a nebulous concept such as ‘fate.’ This sentiment is commonly found among his fellow Artisanship Commission members. It doesn’t deter him — if anything, his resolve is strengthened. His life won’t be as long as theirs, but it will burn hot and bright before it extinguishes. 

“The borisins must pay the price for their evil.” 

One day, a lady with long, silver hair, who has conquered the moon and brought it to heel, approaches him. The air around here is crisp, contrasting the sweltering air of the Zhuming. She reminds him of the winters he experienced on his home planet. He had forgotten how frost stings. 

“A talent such as yours shouldn’t be left to drown amidst a mediocre sea. After this visit, I’m bound for the Loufu. A seat will be made available for you. Come and reach your full potential, or, languish here where your accolades will fade from history’s recollection.” 

The Shard Sword, Starfall Reverie, Cloud-Piercer, and Baiheng’s recurve bow were no longer what he treasured most. Those monumental accomplishments don’t enrich lives, it ends them. Standing here, where the ocean’s blue is more brilliant than the artificial sky, is where he’s found something akin to peace. The Scalegorge Waterscape has become a gathering place for friends. Laughter, sparring, and the burning of liquor are shared beneath the moon’s watchful eye. 

He raises a cup to his lips and silently wishes this joy could last forever. 

“Do you remember?”

This voice interrogated him unceasingly for answers they both knew he couldn’t give. Again and again, he’d undergo a punishment disguised as a lesson. Frost didn’t just sting, it imparted necrosis, yet what is decomposition to an immortal but a joke? Again and again, his flesh would be pierced, organs punctured with expert execution. His body wasn’t allowed the privilege to rot. 

Again and again, he’d be swallowed by death, only to be spat back up, as it’s unable to digest him. 

"Listen, I can always kill you again, otherwise I can't bring you back."

What he thought to be prey standing in his way turned out to be apex predators. A woman who could render him useless with her words alone and a suit of armor that reflected the sun in his weary eyes. He had to get his fill of death before considering her offer. It sounded too good to be true, but he was reminded that the universe has enough instruments to perform the threnody he so desperately wishes to hear. 

“Having trouble settling on a gift? Hm… I suppose that’s to be expected. Any off-world flora you leave behind will shrivel beneath the planet’s atmosphere, unless it possesses special qualities. It’d be a bad omen to give her a lotus that can wilt. Why not try a different approach?”

He stands solitary on the cragged terrain around the LOTUS-EATER. Though she’ll soon emerge to gaze up at the starless sky, his wait won’t end there. It’ll bleed into the next day, then the day after that, on and on the cycle will spin. Destiny’s Slave promised this vortex would end so long as he remained patient. Once he fully bows down before her, damnation will be her crown. The weight of his burden is to be shared by two. 

He considers the iridescent crystals in his bandaged hands. 

He thought the joy he found in creation died the same day ▇▇▇▇▇ did. 

This emotion’s resurrection, however…

… If it’s a sin, then what’s another addition to his list? 

“Listen, Blade, snap out of it.”

The swarm falls silent. 

Bright screens, the thrum of the oxygen generator, sterile colors. Kafka towers over him, implying that he’s fallen to the ground. Her complexion lacks its usual glow. While Blade stands, she reaches inside her jacket and pulls out a portable blush. She dusts the rosy powder over her cheeks. 

“That was unpleasant,” Kafka sighs. She snaps the container shut. “I guess that’s to be expected from one of Noct’s Emanators. It seems you bore the brunt of it, though.” 

Mom, an Emanator? You think. Maybe… maybe that means she had a chance to get away. This was a diversion that she used to go into hiding. Faking a corpse is within their skillset, Silver Wolf can hack reality itself. I only looked at it long enough to confirm her identity. 

Blade places a hand on his throbbing head and grimaces. His vision alternates between different degrees of blurriness. Kafka’s positioned in front of him, which prevents you from seeing the area your mother occupied. You pray to anything that might listen for her to fucking move already.

“That trip down memory lane was a red herring,” Kafka says. “She bought herself enough time to complete her real objective.” 

Even Kafka thinks so! 

Instead of explaining further, she leisurely reaches for her lipstick. Your frustration boils over. You aren’t the only one feeling impatient. Blade hasn’t uttered a word, but his typical apathy ebbs and flows irregularly. Kafka hums a tune as she smears the rouge pigment along her puckered lips. This whimsical attitude shows no signs of tapering off. 

Blade exhales sharply, belying his annoyance. He’s near his limit as well.

Kafka clicks her tongue. “Don’t be so impatient, you two. I’m dolling myself up.” 

…‘You two?’

“Yes. Now, let me assess the damage,” Kafka switches from looking at Blade to inspecting his psyche. She gasps, playing the role of a melodramatic damsel perfectly. “Oh my. Ania did a number on you.” 

This woman is insufferable, always playing coy. I swear, the next time I see her—

“Your memories of [First] Phaeales, the visceral emotions she stirs up in you; they’re growing fuzzier by the second, I presume? In an hour or so, they’ll be gone altogether. Hmm… ‘gone’ might not be the best word to describe it. Sealed away might be more appropriate.” 

A premonition too cruel to put into words coils around you. 

No, no, no. 

“Can you fix it?” Blade strains. The hypothetical Kafka suggested encourages his mara to writhe and hiss in dissatisfaction. It crawls around his head, murmurs near his cochlea in a scratchy voice, demanding a quick fix. To be deprived of you is unacceptable, it insists. This sentencing must be overturned. It wants you, needs you and will destroy anything to have you. Himself included. 

Pandemonium wreaks havoc inside his head, it’s like he barely exists. The warring influences rip away as if drawing and quartering him. 

“I can’t, no. It’s beyond my abilities,” Kafka’s smile is all teeth. “Fortunately, I do know of someone who can undo it.” 

His mara hushes so it may hear her out. 

“Contact them,” he snaps. 

“You’d get all bashful if I did. Besides, I don’t think she’d do a very thorough job if she knew the context.” 

Kafka stares Blade in the eye and tilts her head like she’s posing for the camera. “Isn’t that right, Miss Phaeales?” 

You think you might be living in a nightmare. 

Please, no…

Blade’s heart lurches inside his chest at your mention. 

“Listen, Bladie. Until [First] Phaeales undoes her mother’s seal, you’ll be unable to remember the past twenty-four hours. The second the seal is undone, this memory, on June 8th, 2153 AE, starting from Eris’ local time of 0223 and concluding at 0214, will resurface in your consciousness. It will play for her so she’s fully caught up.” 

How could something this awful… ever happen…? 

The edges of the memory fade and curl inward like burning paper. 

“I’ll throw in some advice, just for you, sweetie. He’s bound to get tongue-tied around you, so remember to be patient,” Kafka’s suggestion is muffled. “Oh, and another thing. You might want to get a headstart while you can.” 

… 

You can’t breathe. 

The room performs for you, rippling side to side, hypnotizing as a pocket watch. A white blur whirrs by. Clink, clink, clink, it crashes, spurting its innards in a splatter of red and glimmering gold. The sound itself seems delayed, echoing a moment too late. It isn’t in time with the opal shards that scatter like teeth along the polished floor. The deluge is offbeat, dissonant, yet the song continues.

You can’t breathe. 

The percussion is ousted, making way for the woodwind section. The flutes raise and raise in pitch. This tocsin sounds shrill and consistent, stabbing your eardrums, and vibrating your bones. Dizziness makes for a distracting audience member, its dry, unblinking eyes landing on you. It opens its maw impossibly wide, tearing the tendons around its cracked lips, and swallows your head. For some reason, it cannot go past your neck, so it contents itself with gorging on your cranium like it’s sucking candy. 

You can’t breathe. 

There’s something living inside your throat. A parasite, leech, or slug, maybe. It wriggles back up whenever you try swallowing, like jello on a wobbling plate. The tiny hairs along its gelatinous body tickle your esophagus. You’re always on the precipice of choking, but not quite. It delights in the warm and moist cavern you’ve provided. 

You can’t die because it wants more from you. 

You can’t be reduced to a husk because your vitality sustains it. 

You can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe—

Something awful touches your skin and you want to burn the residue it leaves behind. 

“[First].” 

You scramble back until your spine hits a cold, solid surface. A hand retracts. 

What is this thing before you? It’s tall and has eyes like vats of blood. You see your reflection held captive inside the crimson miasma. The woman it shows resembles you in some ways and doesn’t in others. She looks afraid. Sickly. Lost somewhere between the junction of life and death. Traipsing, testing the fraying line’s integrity. One wrong step guarantees a plummet to inconceivable depths. 

“[First].” 

“Don’t,” you rasp, your voice wobbling like a transmission with a poor signal, “Don’t you fucking dare come near me!” 

He listens. For now, at least. You’d be a fool to mistake stalling for surrender. You press your back into the wall hard enough to ache. The enclosed space seemingly shrinks around you. You press a trembling hand over your heart, feeling how it hammers against your chest cavity. The room’s air is stifling. Your sympathetic nervous system can’t decide its course of action. Should the little oxygen you’re inhaling go to your brain or your heart? Delegation is a tricky endeavor. 

Blade’s gaze eats you alive.

He’s starving and you’re the only thing that can fill him.

The manifestation of his mara frightened you less. 

 Mom, what have I done? What can I do? 

“You should sit,” he says. You want to rip his vocal cords to shreds. “There’s nowhere to run and you know better than to fight.”

As if he had to remind you. 

The Shard Sword. So that’s the name of the terror he wields? You’ve read about it in history books, there are entire chapters dedicated to the High-Cloud Quintet’s exploits. Even if he were unarmed, you wouldn’t stand a chance. Any flesh wound will heal, any organ will stitch itself back together, and any death will be a temporary visit he’ll saunter back from.

Blade takes a step closer.

How do you get out of this? How do you get him to stop? What would get him to stop? 

What could he possibly want more than you? 

Oh.

The answer unfurls like a body bag. 

… There is one more thing, isn’t there? 

You thread your psyches together with a thin string. It’s too weak in its present state, the weight of your goal will make it snap instantly. You need to fortify it as best as you can. Otherwise, there is no place you can go where he won’t find you. The prismatic shards that record his history are no longer indecipherable, each moment is visible to you, forming a macabre mosaic. 

The second you finalize this link, he’ll know. Your touch isn’t a stranger to his mind anymore. Nothing about you is. 

You recall the shattered opal goblet a few feet away. 

You let your knees buckle like they’ve desired all along. You fall toward the jagged shards and you brace yourself. It happens as swiftly as you expected — his inhuman speed allows him to catch you easily. He steadies you against him, holding you up since the strength leaving your body wasn’t an act. 

Your hand brushes over a sliver of his skin. 

You wanted me to show you what it’s like to die, you think. It isn’t beyond my means at all, Yingxing!

The Synalink is a success. 

He might want you, but his longing for a permanent death eclipses that. 

This is a scenario unlike any you’ve ever built before. The dimensions are simple, you’re creating one static scene. It isn’t a vast galaxy with trade, economies, and conflicting ideals, teeming with planets that house millions of individuals who each have their own role in the story to play. Grass doesn’t have to blow just right, there aren’t bystanders whose conversations you need to generate and perform maintenance on. 

The stage you’ve built is, at its core, nothing. A vacuum you’ve molded into a cube and placed him in the middle of. 

You’ve cut off stimuli to each of his senses. He can’t perceive anything, because there’s nothing to perceive. 

His psyche shows no signs of resistance. This is what he wants, isn’t it? Total absolution. The loss of self, to be undone and woven into the universe’s indifferent tapestry. Every factor has aligned in your favor like a once-in-a-millennium syzygy. Your newfound knowledge of his past, his most innate desire being death, then the amplification physical touch brings. 

This isn’t an unknown pathogen, it’s a welcome salvation. 

You just have to maintain it. 

Your main hurdle is finding a way to do so while navigating the physical world. The slightest deviation could have catastrophic consequences, his acumen is that competent. How long can you sustain this Synalink if you don’t dedicate your entire attention to it? There’s no point of reference. For all you know, it could be impossible. 

Regardless, you have to try. 

Reopening your corporeal eyes, you find yourself in the private room. 

The Stellaron Hunter, who uses the alias ‘Blade,’ stands behind you like a cocked gun. 

He isn’t moving. The white rings in his eyes match yours. His vitals are consistent with what you see in clients immersed in Synalinks. Low respiration and heartbeat, and the paralysis of limbs so as to deter unwanted motor functions.

You hold your breath, shimmy out of his loosened grasp, and then cautiously take a step back.

Your heels crunch down on a stray fragment from the broken goblet. You cringe.

You expect the worst when you gather the courage to look at him again. 

Still nothing. 

Keeping your back against the wall, you awkwardly slide toward the door leading to The Lounge. 

The burning question of what to do next sears your mind. You have no faith or trust in Chrysus. There’s Caicias, but he’s in Mele. The fastest nectar guide would still take two hours, factoring in the repairs being done to the one in Thelx. Even if he did make it here, what could he do? Help you negotiate? Would Blade even give him the chance? You’d be condemning the elder quadrant leader to certain death. 

Who is in your star system? You’ve heard that the Astral Express has had run-ins with the Stellaron Hunters, but they could be millions of light-years away. Then there’s Kafka. If she goes too long without hearing from Blade, she won’t just sit around and let you scheme. Silver Wolf could hack into the LOTUS-EATER’s surveillance system or use thermal imaging to gauge the situation. 

The price of hope is too steep. 

Your fingers grope blindly for the door’s switch. You refuse to take your attention off Blade for a split second. You feel a protrusion, start to flick it up—

Sparks fly from the wall like frantic fireflies, joined by chunks of dark debris. Strands of your hair blow aside as if subject to a wicked gale. Sediment scratches at your skin. Out of instinct, your eyes squeeze shut, shielding you from what they can. A figure towers above you. You can’t see him, but you can feel him. The torment, bloodlust, and yearning are so prevalent that they may as well be in the room alongside you. 

Through a looking glass, you saw the reflections of a wretched life.

How he fell victim to a friend unwilling to accept a comrade’s untimely demise. That for this incursion, death would never grant him permanent residency. Over a thousand times, a swordmaster gripped by madness tested this ordinance, her strikes colder than winter’s wrath.

He’d lose a piece of himself each time, leaving a mangled afterimage of what he once was.

A sinner rendered mara-struck and immortal — a shade that will dye you his accursed color. 

Blade pins your wrists above your head. It hurts, but you’ve learned there’s pain worse than this. 

“Open your eyes.” 

It isn’t a request. 

You hesitate for as long as he allows. Ultimately, you have no choice but to give him what he wants. Scarlet eyes reward your reluctant obedience. Leering, glowing. Your chest heaves beneath the burden of each breath. Something wet and warm trickles down your cheek. It titillates the flames of his mara as if it’d been lathered in oil. He shackles your wrists with his gloved hand and drags the other downward. Over your temple, cheekbone, then finally, your chin. 

He tilts your head up. 

Neither of you speak. 

How? How did he break free? 

You didn’t sense any fluctuations, nothing that’d warn of your incoming fate. Your control didn’t slip, it was pulled out right from underneath you. 

Isn’t death what every segment of his psyche seeks? His rationality, morality, and base instincts were all in agreement, a unanimous jury that didn’t require deliberation. 

What unforeseen note upset this triad? 

Your reflection in his eyes is drenched in red.  

“Haha… seriously?” You laugh a humorless laugh. “Me?” 

Blade doesn’t respond. You don’t know if he heard you. Either way, it doesn’t matter. He is the author of whatever happens next. 

A butterfly with injured wings loses none of its original beauty. If anything, it’s made easier to admire, now that it can no longer fly away. You have nowhere to go, nothing to do, and not a word to say that’d make a difference. This futility reassures his mara. That which was held above its head has been made to crawl along the ground. Blade seizes total control of himself as his mara slinks away. Cognizant of his bruising grip, he releases you. Without his crushing support, you collapse like a house of cards. Your knees hit the ground. 

You sink down further and squeeze your head in between your hands. 

It hurts, mom, it hurts. Why couldn’t you give me up one more time? ‘My’ life never belonged to me in the first place, anyway. You should’ve granted the shift in ownership when it was still a choice. 

… I’m scared. 

There is no getting out of this, is there?

Metal clinks by your side. Dazedly, you inspect the sound’s source. A silver dagger rests beside you. It’s small in build, yet pointed as a weapon should be. Your attention flitters between him and the blade. What is this? A pitiful attempt to level the playing field? Has he not humiliated you enough? Taken everything that wasn’t yours to give? 

Sensing your confusion, he explains, “Sins should be punished.” 

You grasp the hilt. 

It’s heavy. 

“What… are you even saying…?” You murmur. Is he referring to your mother? “It’s ‘permissible’ to take life, according to you.” 

You recount his creed with the venom it merits. 

He falls silent. 

“Not yours… not for free,” he drawls. “I’ll pay any price.” 

Transactions benefit both parties. What’s there for him to gain? 

You stand on unsteady legs.

Blade’s countenance is an impenetrable fortress. The violent waves have settled, leaving still, murky waters. Is it twisted affection swirling in his gaze? Guilt? The celebration of a long-fought battle? You don’t know. You don’t know what to think, feel, or do. You’re just numb. What will you be after this? Your mother likened their designs for you to a ‘retractable leash.’ Close, but not quite. 

You’ll be more of a portable oxygen tank. 

Kafka can’t always be there to soothe Blade’s mara, but you can. You will. You have to. It’s a duty that binds more than marriage. 

If transactions benefit both parties, then… 

What he’s offering to pay for here is you. 

Your eyes drop down to the dagger. 

The currency will be blood and flesh. He’ll let you kill him, however you want, for as long as you want. Ten, one hundred, one thousand times or beyond, until you feel the scales have balanced. The blank canvas has given you the tools to create your final masterpiece. Once the paint dries, the roles will reverse. The subjugated will become the subjugator. It isn’t a matter of if, it’s a matter of when. 

You raise the dagger, his cold heart your target. It’s yours. A gift, a burden, an unbreakable vow. 

You plunge it down, and—

—He doesn’t even flinch. 

The tip of the blade rips his shirt, but not his flesh. 

You toss it aside and shake your head. 

“Has anything worthwhile… ever come from killing you…?” 

Blade doesn’t respond, but you know he heard you. 

He furrows his eyebrows, your question hanging over his head. Whatever he expected, this must not have been a possibility he accounted for. Had he been anyone else, he might conflate mercy for forgiveness. He isn’t, though. He knows the crippling weight of guilt. How it secretly imbues you with a craving for more, so you can finally be crushed to death, instead of being forced to roll the boulder onward. 

Each slice would be for him as much as it is for you. 

If that’s penance to him, you will never grant it. 

“My mom…” you trail off, not because you don’t know how to complete the sentence, but because finishing it will finish something inside you. “Is she…?” 

Blade’s memories have made their way back to him using you as their bridge. You could parse through them, but you don’t want to. You don’t think he’ll lie. He hasn’t lied to you as far as he knew. The truth is worse and the truth is what you’ll get. The emotions you pick up from him hint at what you already know. They nibble at you as piranhas would. Notably missing from the onslaught is any iteration of guilt or its distant cousin, regret. 

He’d die a thousand deaths to pay the fee of having you. What’s a little more bloodshed to someone who views death as enviable? 

“Never mind,” you murmur. “Forget I asked.” 

He won’t. 

He refuses to forget anything about you ever again. 

For now, he’ll pretend otherwise. 

You’ve decided that from this distance, Eris looks like a marble. 

It’s just a little black sphere, infused with the occasional stream of gold. You center the image in between your thumb and pointer finger, making minuscule adjustments until it fits just right. Once you’re content, you hold it there, squinting your left eye so this speck’s the main focus. 

As of the latest census in 2155 AE, the planet Eris is thought to have a population of 2,912,840. 560,432 in Ade, 1,510,781 in Mele, an estimated 200,400 in Arc, and 641,227 in your home quadrant of Thelx. Each of those numbers can be attributed to a living, breathing being. Someone with their own family, history, ethics, dreams, and struggles. Your fellow Nymphalians, descendants of prisoners dumped on a dark and frigid planet to die.

You thought you’d given them your life before. In a pretty, metaphorical sense, that could be made into poems for generations. 

Your conversation with Destiny’s Slave reassured you that no, there’s nothing pretty or metaphorical about what awaits you. No one will be penning sentimental poems detailing an ascetic’s life led in solitude so that the people may prosper. You’ll be a cold case. For a week, your name will be a hot topic on primetime television. A headline sprawled in large font across news media companies. ‘Tragedy Strikes: Eris’ [First] Phaeales Kidnapped, IPC Implicates Stellaron Hunters,’ or something to that effect. 

Then another calamity will occur and you’ll be pushed from the public’s consciousness. 

You might get a special mention on anniversaries. The first, fifth, tenth, fiftieth, then the hundredth. Podcasts will do deep dives. Books will be written. Forum boards will swap theories. Who knows? An anonymous user might guess the truth and be labeled a conspiracy theorist for their troubles.

You pinch your thumb and pointer finger together, smushing the faraway planet from your perspective. 

“Boom!” You exclaim in a whisper yell. “Is that how easy it is to you?” 

He doesn’t respond. 

You turn away from the sheet of glass separating you from the limitless depths of outer space. 

“The silent treatment, huh?” You muse, drumming your fingers against the window pane. “You saw this future and worked oh so hard to procure it. What? Having second thoughts, now that it’s here? That’d be a shame.” 

There’s something ugly living inside your heart. It’s been there since you were born and will remain until you die. Maybe it lives inside everyone, you can’t say, you can only speak for yourself. Kindness isn’t inherent, it’s learned. Practiced so that it may be honed. Otherwise, the steel grows dull and rusts. Sharpening means losing layers of yourself against a whetstone. Those layers are worth losing, you’re told. Spite, vengeance, hatred; they’re all so, so ugly. Little imps that should be sandpapered away. 

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, that sort of platitude. It’s nice bumper sticker material. Something to slap on a graphic tee or coffee cup, maybe. To be fair, practicing the antithesis isn’t so simple either. 

You don’t want his eye, it’ll grow back.

You don’t want his life, he’ll just be born anew. 

You don’t want him, but from now on, he’s all you’ll get. 

“Are you curious about the deal I made with Elio?” You probe. 

Blade sighs, likely preparing himself for the vitriol you’ll slew his way. 

“I don’t need to know.” 

“You want to know, though,” you smile thinly. “I could feel you brooding from rooms away. What? Does the thought of me speaking to another man displease you that—” 

He rushes forward and lifts you by the collar of your blouse. You don’t waver, if anything, you could get drunk off this emotional outburst. His nostrils flare and you can feel his warm breath fan against your face. Your heart whirrs strong against its bony restraints, adrenaline blasting throughout your system. 

“That mouth of yours is testing me,” he chuckles, although he’s far from amused. “Have you forgotten the position you’re in?” 

“Have you?” You scoff. His grip tightens. “Go ahead. Choke me, ravish me. You can’t bring yourself to though, can you? Want to know why? Hm? You’re holding out for the slim, impossible chance that I might return your fucked up feelings, even if just a little bit.” 

Scornfully, you whisper, “Elio was generous enough to answer some of my questions. The extent of the Stellaron’s influence, the true perpetrators behind the nectar guide bombing, why you’d get so pissy whenever Lear swung by… in retrospect, it’s painfully obvious, really. Messing with the LOTUS-EATER’s noise-canceling software is child’s play for Silver Wolf. Did you enjoy eavesdropping on us? Probably not, huh?” 

He growls your name, low and menacingly. It’s a warning.

You ignore him. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you do. 

“I never told him,” your lower lip trembles. “Because of you, I’ll never get to, either. You want to pay a price? Have your sins punished? Start by listening to this!” 

His mara bubbles up as if it were magma. For someone unraveling from the inside out, he doesn’t look the part. Emotion and vitality have drained from his face. His complexion is that of the dead man he wishes himself to be. Pale, vapid. He wants you to stop, yet the only way you would is if he tore out your tongue. To do so would guarantee he’d never get to hear those three words directed at him. He must consider that fate harrowing indeed if he allows the means for you to utter your next sentence. 

The finger you pricked all those years ago tingles. 

“Lear is the only one I’ve loved. The only one I’ll ever love. He gave me a life; you’ve destroyed mine. How could you ever compare, Yingxing? How can you even come close?” 

You wrench yourself free from Blade’s grasp. He lets you. 

His hands remain where you once were. Gradually, they fall, as do his shoulders and head. It’s peculiar. You’ve come to be so in tune with his emotions, picking up on frequencies only you can hear. This pitch falls silent. His mara is too. The infighting over where he should begin and end calls for a temporary cease-fire. Neither madness nor sanity care for victory, their attention has been cast elsewhere, to a more prominent problem. 

“It is.” 

You narrow your eyes. “What?”

“Earlier, you asked if it’s that easy for me,” he says, plainly. “It is.”

Your system absorbs the implication as well as it would cyanide. 

“Eris and all of its inhabitants are strictly off-limits. I figured you'd already heard this.” 

“I have.” 

“Then—” 

“It’s not loyalty that ties the Stellaron Hunters together,” he interrupts. “It’s the pursuit of individual goals which just happen to align.” 

Blade saunters forward. You bristle, awaiting unwanted physical contact, yet he brushes by your shoulder. His footsteps echo throughout the ship’s hollow corridors. You pivot, intent on following his every movement. He gazes out the window, your home planet his point of interest. The little black and gold marble orbited by four moons, far away from any star. 

“Goals change, lotus.” 

His eyes find yours in the window’s reflection. 

He’s bluffing. He has to be. 

“You’ve sought death for over 700 years,” is your uneasy reply. “Surely, you wouldn’t risk the one avenue you have to reach it.” 

“Didn’t I already betray that expectation of yours?”

Death is no longer what every segment of his psyche seeks, as it’s the one place he can’t have you.  

“... You’ve stopped running your mouth. Clever girl,” Blade flexes his fists by his side. The leather glove on his hand creaks as he does so. “If you think this an empty threat, I have a suggestion.”

Blade grins from ear to ear. 

“Repeat any of what you just said to me and I’ll prove it isn’t.” 

It’s as if his mara forms tendrils that slowly slither up your body. It caresses your thighs, your midriff, and your chest. Breathes against your nape and coils around your neck. You can’t find the strength to move. It wishes you would so that it’d have an excuse to hold you tighter. Squeeze harder. Sink into you deeper. 

You glower at him. His mara keens, finding the expression delightful. 

“Look at me like that any longer and I’ll take you up on your suggestion.”

You pinch your eyebrows together, belying your confusion. 

He wets his lips with his tongue.

“‘Choke me, ravish me,’ was it?” he muses, chuckling breathlessly. “Who am I to deny such a tempting offer?” 

Finally, you muster the effort necessary to break free from his hypnotic stare. You’re overcome with the need to scrub off every part of your skin he’s touched. You want the residue gone, purged from your flesh. Nausea floods you like a broken dam. 

You let him touch you, you let him kiss you, you let him fuck you.

He can’t have anything else. 

You don’t know what more there is to take. 

His eyes are heavy on your back as you leave the room. This spaceship’s decently big, but it’s not enough. A universe could separate you, but it still wouldn’t suffice. You’ll create any gap you can, illusionary or otherwise. You speed through the ship’s main corridor until you near what’s to be your room. Before you can open it, your hand stills.

Elio said we’re to leave on a job the second Silver Wolf starts distracting the IPC’s blockade, you think. That should be any minute now. 

Your blood freezes over.

After this ship makes the jump, you’ll never see Eris again. 

Or Nona. 

Or Lear. 

Will Nona continue to pursue her studies without you there to teach her? Is there a reason for her to? She’s come so far since you first met. That harsh, untrusting girl with a permanent scowl blossomed into something truly special. 

“Seriously? You’re supposed to be my mentor?”

“Alright, lemme set one thing straight. I’m here to save up enough to leave this shithole. If that hurts your feelings, go and cry to mommy about it, I couldn’t care less. It’ll be bad press to ship your latest Arc rescue back over, after all.” 

“Why do you care about this planet, anyway? Beyond whatever sense of purpose you get from playing the hero, I mean. All anyone here ever does is complain and half-ass things. ‘Let’s give anarchy a shot guys, but like, a nice version of anarchy, where we all hold hands around a campfire and sing songs.’ It’s hilarious.” 

“The first time I made it to Thelx’s border as a kid, I thought I was hallucinating. I asked my older travel buddy, ‘What’s with these tiny, floating yellow spheres?’ She didn’t even spare me a glance, she was so enchanted. ‘That’s light,’ she said. ‘Take a good, long look. You won’t be seeing much of it.’ I remember how angry hearing that made me. Not just what she was saying, but how she said it. Like she’d given up. Like that was acceptable.” 

“A cargo ship bound for Rosiz is heading out in three cycles. You and Lear could come with me, y’know. Elope, or whatever. My contact would allow it. Probably. Hey, don’t give me an answer right away. Geez. At least think about it.” 

“Yep, I’m still here. Surprise! My other plans fell through, what can I say? Apparently, Rosiz is run by a weird blood cult. I don’t want anything to do with that. Guess you’re stuck with me a while longer. What’s with that look? Yeah, I still think this planet’s a shithole. But, you’re here, so… it’s 5% less shitty, give or take. Lear brings that up to a whopping 15%. Yes, he gets a value of ten. Have you tasted his cooking?” 

Will Lear ever know how much it meant when he comforted the haughty and naive girl you once were? How without him, all you ever would’ve known was loneliness? You were a handful, there’s no doubting that. It’s a miracle he put up with you. 

He had the softest voice when you were kids. 

“I’m supposed to play the princess? But… but… I’m a boy, and you’re a girl… so shouldn’t you…? Ow, ow, stop pinching! Okay, okay! I’ll be the princess! Eh? Whaddya mean ‘you’ll kiss it better?’ Miss Phaeales? Miss Phaeales…?!?!?!”

“I’m back from work, my wife. Huh? Husbands don’t say that? No no no no, you can’t play the husband, I have to play the husband! Lemme try again! Ahem. From work, I have returned… woman… I’ve married. That’s no good either? This is so complicated!”

“I dunno why you like Connect Four so much. I mean, we could play Monopoly, but you always steal credits when I look away. No, that's not allowed! … You’re just ‘being a capitalist?’ What’s that mean? Cheater, or something?” 

He didn’t lose this soft quality when he became an adult — his tenderness was the air you breathed. 

“‘What do I want,’ huh? Where do I begin? To be a part of you, I guess? Ah, if I’d known you were going to grin like that, I wouldn’t have said anything. W-Well, of course I want you. I just don’t think the phrasing’s right. You’ve always viewed yourself as a commodity. I don’t want to reinforce such a terrible thought.”

“It’s… so good, so warm, so… fuck, please, don’t look at me like that. I can’t believe… that I get to do this with you. You’re beautiful, you’re everything…! I’ve always loved you so much. So, so much. Is this okay? Is it really okay? If it is, then please, let me pleasure you.” 

“Quit messing around with me already. There’s no way that was your first time. Because, I mean, you’re so sought after, y’know? You must’ve had tons of opportunities to— ow ow ow, again with the pinching?! Alright, I get it, I get it! Pfft, stop, don’t make it weird. Okay, fine, hearing that does make me a little happy. Aaand there you go, making it weird. No, I’m not possessive. You said you don’t like possessive men, so… what? Of course I remembered that. I remember everything you say. Wait… are you embarrassed? I didn’t… didn’t think that was possible… one sec, lemme get my camera…” 

You swore an oath not to cry.

You didn’t when packing the few items Blade approved of, or when you negotiated with Elio. 

It’s not that you don’t want to. Should your resolve slip for a second, you grow dangerously close to drowning in a puddle of your own tears. There’s plenty to cry about, plenty to mourn. Once you start, though, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to stop. You’ll waste away as your body’s wrung for all its worth. Should that happen, you won’t be able to uphold your end of the bargain with Elio. 

There’ll be a lot more to cry about then. 

For this reason, you don’t turn back. 

Your deal with Destiny’s Slave consists of two elements. 

First, you are to serve as Blade’s ‘field partner,’ offering him your unremitted support however he sees fit. And second, you pledge the full extent of your psionic abilities to further the Stellaron Hunters’ mission. This second condition perplexed you, but it wasn’t like you had many bargaining chips. For so long as you cooperate, Eris will remain unharmed and the nascent Stellaron neutralized. 

Kafka had called to ‘celebrate your inauguration.’ You braced yourself for the worst, but she was surprisingly amicable. 

“Have you really never considered your utility outside of parlor tricks?” She wondered. “The power to create fantasias and read memories certainly has its uses, no?” 

“I just don’t see how it’d contribute much,” you replied. 

“If it stopped there, maybe. Should you be able to replicate Ania Phaeales’ seals, though… that’d come in handy.” 

You gritted your teeth and read between the lines. They want that too, huh? 

You’ve since worked tirelessly to understand how such an anomaly is possible, much less replicable. Silver Wolf provided an updated version of the Arbiter training software to aid your endeavors. You’ve tried and failed hundreds of times. Deleting fragments of a person’s psyche has disastrous results, as you once hypothesized. If the Stellaron Hunters wanted a foe lobotomized, they wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble of obtaining you. 

The holographic screen floating before you presents an error message. 

‘Generated psyche #643, Garçia Chamora, has been rendered comatose from suffering damage to his cerebral hemispheres. Press here or say next to generate a new psyche.’ 

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. 

This job on Rosiz requires a nobleman’s lifelong fealty to be sealed, you think. If I can’t figure this out before then… 

Your stomach jumps to your throat like you’re in a free fall. 

Leaning back in your chair, you swipe the screen away. You look at the digital clock in the ship’s common room. It reads 2:05 a.m. This shift to a twenty-four-hour time has been a pain, but you think this number means it’s late. While glancing around the uninspired decor, your eyes land on a solitary figure. 

Blade sits on a beige couch with his arms and legs crossed, his eyelids shut. You assume he’s asleep. There are plenty of comfortable beds he could veg out on, but wherever you are, he isn’t far behind. You don’t get why he’s playing prison warden. He can’t think you’re stupid enough to try escaping with almost three million lives dangling over your head, can he? Perhaps he’s getting off on your suffering. 

Whatever the case, you loathe having to breathe the same air as him. You wish he’d fuck off already. 

You’ve barely spoken to one another since he made his threat. If it has to do with the upcoming job, you’ll give a few curt words and nothing more. He’s never been outgoing, so without you initiating conversation, hours trudge by in tense silence. You’ve recently made the unfortunate realization his input on your mother’s seal would be useful. He was under it for two years, there must be some information you can glean from him. You need anything you can get.

The thought of asking him for assistance, though… it makes you sick. 

“What?” he asks, his voice gravelly from unuse. 

You tense. He could tell you were looking at him without opening his eyes? 

“Nothing,” you reply. 

He grunts and that’s the end of it. You pull the holographic screen back up, eager to distract yourself. Except, all you can focus on is the #643 in the bottom left corner. You’ve already made that many attempts without any progress? One of Kafka’s contacts is going to help sneak this ship onto Rosiz in two days. You’re running out of time. 

You spare Blade a quick glance. Unsurprisingly, he hasn’t moved. 

Every muscle in your face scrunches up as if you’d bitten a lemon. 

Just get it over with, you tell yourself. 

“Blade?” 

He makes a noise to prove he heard you. 

“Can I… ask you a few questions?” 

“That depends on what they are.” 

You exhale shakily. “When your memories of me were sealed away, what did it feel like?” 

His mara murmurs, discontent at this reminder. He appears outwardly unaffected. 

“Why do you want to know?” 

You play with your skirt’s hem, picking at a loose thread. This is what you were afraid of. 

“Knowing will help me understand and replicate the seal better,” you explain. Then, you hastily add, “For the job.” 

All is silent. You shift in your seat. 

“That isn’t my concern,” is his eventual answer. 

Your jaw drops. “Wh— are you serious? You wouldn’t want to botch a job, would you?” 

“It wouldn’t be me ‘botching’ it,” Blade says, coolly, evenly. “It would be you.” 

You gnash your teeth together but bite your tongue. As callous as he’s acting, he isn’t wrong. He doesn’t owe you anything. Especially after you said what may have been the worst combination of words to him. You refuse to regret it, but you can follow the cause and effect. 

“You really don’t care about what’d happen?” You press, breathless. “Eris is my home. You lived there for months yourself, experienced the culture… does that mean nothing?” 

“Why do you ask questions you know you won’t like the answers to?”

Blade hasn’t so much as opened his eyes. You just don’t get it — you’ve peered inside his mind multiple times and still struggle to understand him. To what extent does he care about you, if that word even applies here? Does it stop at your physical well-being? Can his current nonchalance be attributed to your diatribe, or would he have acted this way regardless? He doesn’t make sense. He’s an enigma.

You decide to try another approach. 

“What about Nona? You’d still feel nothing then?” 

Finally, he opens his eyes. The warm hues feel cold. 

“I hold no ill will toward your student. I’d consider it a shame,” he says. Despite his impersonal word choice, he isn’t being sarcastic. That must mean something. Before you can expand on this, he smiles. It’s far from kind. “I see you’ve omitted your boyfriend from this thought exercise. A wise choice.” 

Your heart skips a beat.

Ah, fuck. 

“A word of advice, girl. Manipulation isn’t your forte.” 

It feels like a struggle between life and death to maintain eye contact. 

“Negotiation, though, you’re half-decent at,” Blade muses. He inclines his head to the side. “Well? Make me an offer.” 

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. What do you have to offer? In a business setting, you can lowball some figures, that’s how everyone starts. You doubt he’s interested in money or stocks. There’s your Synalink ability, but there’s no way he’ll put himself in a vulnerable position like that again. Everything’s been taken from you. Your business, assets, connections, leverage; all you have are the clothes on your back. Still, if he’s entertaining this conversation, there must be something. 

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin. “Are you… propositioning me?” 

“Oh? That’s how you’ve chosen to interpret it?” he raises an eyebrow. “If that’s your offer, I accept.” 

“No, I’m not—!”

“I know. Calm down,” he interrupts your panicked exclamation. “You’re easily rattled when exhausted.” 

Your heart’s pounding so loud in your ears that it’s difficult to hear him. 

“Relax. The next time I take you, I want you willing.” 

The next time? Is he delusional? Has he suffered long-term memory loss? You’d sooner saw off your hand than sleep with him ever again. You come dangerously close to voicing this, but ultimately decide against it. You need him in an agreeable mood. This seal — have you been set up for failure? You can’t imagine why they’d bother. Still, there’s no singular script, as per Elio’s own admission. It’s a string of possibilities loosely connected by little choices. If one script isn’t followed, that means another has taken center stage. 

Should you be unable to deliver, that future has been accounted for as well. 

It’s a future that can’t come to pass.

Blade speaks your name. 

“Come over here,” he says. 

Your eyes widen and lips part, horror painting itself across your countenance. 

He clicks his tongue. “Trust your own intuition. You said it yourself, didn’t you? That I’m ‘holding out.’”

You fight the urge to wince at the quotation. He’s the one who mentioned it, not you. This can’t count as an infraction on your behalf. Taking a deep breath, you start trekking over, counting each step. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen… ah, it didn’t take anywhere near long enough. 

He pats the spot beside him. Once you’re situated, an arm coils around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. Your heart thumps away. This is reminiscent of the evenings you spent together in your office and on the balcony. The high you received from sex would fade away, replaced by this nice, soft haze. Talkative as you were then, there was something about those moments that kept you quiet. You’re not sure why. 

Maybe it’s because you realized you’d finally met someone lonelier than yourself. 

“You’ve hardly eaten or slept. That I can understand,” Blade says. “What I don’t get, however, is why you haven’t cried.” 

“I can’t.” 

“You’re often on the verge of tears. Like now, for instance,” he points out. You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat. “Why not let it go?” 

Something already broken in you shatters beyond recognition.

“What good would that do?!” 

Your fingernails dig into your palms hard enough to bruise the sensitive flesh. 

“I’m nothing, I-I have nothing, I’m—” you laugh and laugh, making your throat feel scratchier than it already is. “I wanted to do so much…! I was stupid. So stupid! I actually thought that I could— could find a way to fix things, if only I kept working, kept trying! There isn’t a way. There never was a way. We’re greedy, we’re awful, we’re ignorant. A planet like that… a universe like this… so long as we’re in it, it’s fucked, it’s all fucked.” 

You shake your head. “I may have hated her, but I still wanted to be her. To outdo her. Prove that I could’ve done it better, that change was possible, so she’d have no excuse. I couldn’t do either. Even if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered. I’d just be delaying Eris’ inevitable fate like she did.”

Your shoulders heave with each painful breath you take. 

“Did she feel vindicated in the end? Think that by saving me once, it’d make up for all the times she didn’t?”

Whether you’re talking to him or yourself, you can’t tell anymore. It doesn’t make a difference. Speaking the truth aloud doesn’t make it any more or less real. It just leaves a bitter taste that’ll never go away. 

“If she cared so much, why did she never tell me?” You whisper, your voice cracking. “What was she so afraid of…?”

What was I so afraid of?

Tears trickle down your face in a free flow. The drizzle shifts to a torrential downpour, no matter how hard you try shaking or shutting it off. There’s no point in telling him this. You’ll probably regret it, somewhere down the line. 

You faintly register how your body moves without your input. Blinking the wetness in your eyelashes away as best as you can, you see gold patterns. There’s weight around your shoulders too. Weight and warmth. The scent of blood and anise. 

He’s pulled you into an embrace against his chest. 

You twist and jerk your limbs around, attempting to purchase freedom you can’t afford. You yell at him, curse him, beg him to let you go, and still, his grip never relents. He just holds you there, your struggles amounting to nothing, your pleas falling on deaf ears. His grip doesn’t feel tight until you try wriggling yourself out of it. Then, and only then, are you hit with the realization he could crush you so easily. It must take a great deal of self-restraint to avoid doing so. 

The fight leaves your body and you tremble like a leaf in the wind.

His large hand runs over your back, slow and steady, as if his touch were destined to soothe rather than destroy. 

Your well of tears runs dry eventually. 

“When you live for others, you’ll die for them too.”

Blade’s statement doesn’t make you feel better or worse. It washes over you without soaking in. Whether it’s a warning for you or condemnation for yourself, you don’t know. Perhaps the two overlap in an unsightly hybrid. 

Some time passes before he speaks again. 

“The day that man drew his weapon on you, I felt something stir, as rousing from a long slumber,” Blade reveals. “I assumed it should remain undisturbed.” 

This is your chance. You detach yourself from him enough to look him in the eyes. He loosens his grip just enough to allow this, but no more. The vice would tighten should you try extracting yourself further. You wipe away the moisture clinging to your lower eyelashes with your wrists. Since he’s sitting, he isn’t towering over you. This small detail aids your waning resolve. 

“What made you assume that?” 

His bandaged hand cups your tear-stained cheeks. You wince, but allow him his indulgence. 

“Instinct,” he murmurs. 

Your eyebrows pinch together as you think. That wasn’t what you were expecting. You guessed that’d it feel like something significant was missing — a gaping hole. That the individual would want to fill it. Curiosity is the sentient being’s natural state, after all. Especially since this should’ve been an element of itself the mind wishes to reinstitute. Yearning, affection, and care; even if it’s a vestige of the full experience, these positive emotions shouldn’t set off alarm bells. 

Unless the mind decided it was worth suppressing. 

Maybe your mother wasn’t using the influx of memories inflected on Blade as a ‘red herring.’ Kafka adores messing with you, she could’ve floated the idea because she knew you’d hear it in the future. What was your mother doing then? Pulling up key instances throughout Blade’s life, specifically those with heightened emotions and long-lasting influences… 

What if it’s not so much altering memories, but altering the mind’s perception of them? 

The Arbiter training software is bound to your movements, which allows it to manifest with a few hand gestures. The screen displays itself close to your right. You’d prefer to figure this out elsewhere, but Blade doesn’t appear interested in letting you go anytime soon. He silently observes as you pore over the generated psyche. You’re too focused to comment on how creepy he’s being. 

Liliana Kokot. 34. Short-life species. Citizen of the planet Punklorde. Witnessed the murder of her parents at a young age. Came to despise gang activity. Joined police academy. Assigned to the Homicide Unit by age 25. Discovered possible connections between the police chief and organized crime. 

You pull out the prismatic shard containing her parent’s murder. 

The mind has mechanisms to inhibit trauma that’d otherwise obliterate it. Repression, denial, projection, displacement, rationalization, and regression to name a few. In the same way, prisms have multiple sides. The one which refracts the most light will change depending on how it’s angled. 

You adjust the shard without changing its shape. Eventually, you find a side that deems this memory too much, beyond what Liliana can handle. It’s easily absorbed back alongside the other fragments. Except that now, the mind chooses to repress the memory, deep down in the subconscious where it cannot do irreparable harm. 

A ‘seal.’

“I get it now,” you wave the screen off. “It’s similar to a heart transplant. Mechanical valves aren’t integrated as smoothly as tissue valves. The body’s more willing to accept what’s similar to it in composition, as is the mind.” 

“You don’t look less troubled,” Blade notes. 

You scrunch up your nose. 

“I mean… this is— I don’t even know. It undermines what makes a person, well… who they are to the very core.” 

“When you accepted Elio’s deal, you knew you’d be an accessory to criminal activity. How is that any worse than homicide?” 

Blade’s refusal to sugarcoat the truth slashes through you like a phantasmal sword. Perhaps not a thousand times, but close enough. 

“This is your price, lotus.” 

You want to avert your gaze, but you don’t. It’d feel wrong, somehow. Cowardly. Hypocritical. 

No longer can you dwell on the currency itself. What matters now is ensuring you pay your dues on time. 

Your debt extends beyond Destiny’s Slave. There’s another proprietor you must settle with, for even the slightest peace of mind. 

“Blade— no, Yingxing,” you correct yourself. His muscles stiffen, his true name having gone unspoken for so long devoid of contempt. “I may have made a deal with Elio, but… I haven’t personally made one with you. I’d like to change that.” 

You can tell you’ve piqued his interest. 

“I swear on everything that is sacred to me that I’ll remain by your side until my final breath. In return, regardless of if I’m alive or dead, you’ll never harm my home or the people who inhabit it. Intentionally or otherwise.” 

His long, dark eyelashes flutter shut as he mulls over your proposal. He doesn’t take long. Soon enough, vermillion bores into you again. Candle wicks flicker inside them, alight with an emotion you refuse to name. 

“How do you finalize deals, Miss Phaeales?” Blade asks, moving aside a stray strand of hair from your face. 

It’s like the air’s been knocked from your lungs. He couldn’t have known, right? The ripples born when those two words are stitched together? Your chest feels tight and hollow all at once. It’s like your internal organs have liquified, leaving nothing but shapeless viscera. This isn’t the right voice. It should be softer, a tenor’s pitch, not a sonorous bass. 

“M-Miss Phaeales?”

You blink away a fresh set of tears. 

“A promise? Miss Phaeales, I don’t know if I can.”

“Hand me the dagger from before.” 

“I don’t really get you, Miss Phaeales, but… I wanna.”

He does, after a moment’s consideration. 

“It’s my fault, I should’ve killed that man, and now she’s in that criminal’s debt, because of me…!” 

You prick your pointer finger with the dagger’s tip, just enough to create trickling blood.

“Everything you just said — I can tell you believe it.”

He mirrors your actions. His skin quickly mends itself back together. 

“So why… why do you look so sad?”

I had so much to say, you think, bitterly. So, so much.

Blade’s bandaged hand falls to your lower back, where it softly pushes you forward. His gloved hand envelops your face, the leather refreshing against your feverish skin. His lips descend upon yours. You may have called the kiss tender had you known nothing about him. You do know him, however, as fate has decreed he’d get a better future at the cost of yours. It���s as if everyone was in on the joke, leaving you the odd one out. 

He murmurs words in between kisses that you fight desperately to unhear. 

When you pull back for air, you notice how madness surges and retreats in his eyes, as if it were ocean waves washing against the shore. 

The likeness helps. 

Pretending the red shade’s a brilliant blue instead comes easier. 

The next time he kisses you, you cautiously kiss back.  

A/N: i thought i'd feel satisfied when i finished nexus' last chapter, but i actually feel rather sad JTFSIKL i cannot overstate how much i enjoyed working on this story. it scratched a sci-fi itch i've had for over a decade now. when writing longer works, it's rare for me to not get caught on snags that sap my inspiration away. that never happened with this story though. from start to finish, i was contentedly tip tapping away on my keyboard.

i became enamored with this idea of a yandere story that didn't just revolve around the MC and yan, it just wasn't until i started outlining nexus that i had an excuse to explore this concept further.

the main cast of n darling, nona, and lear (an anon affectionately dubbed them the lotus trio, which is a term i loved enough to hijack) has become close to my heart. for that reason, writing this chapter physically hurt at times 😭 i wanted to swat blade away like a fly and have everything end nicely. from the very first sentence though, i knew this would be a tragedy, so it'd go against the Themes to pull a power of friendship ending.

at first, i worried about the reader's ability to empathize/connect with n darling, since her status and abilities aren't universal. like at all. the solution presented itself rather naturally. n darling, at least to me, stresses that simmering anger women feel the need to hide for professionality's sake. her experiences as a child where she's given responsibilities beyond her age's capacity, then in adulthood, where she isn't taken seriously (chrysus) or unintentionally infantilized (caicias). i'm sure many afab individuals can relate to some extent.

my primary interest was in having these two deeply frustrated individuals crash together and spill debris everywhere. i was given a little more liberty with blade's actions and dialogue, due to miss phaeales' id inducing presence, which drew out more than he'd normally give. as for blade's characterization, if he isn't in the throes of mara madness, i really can't see him being a hellion 24/7. he feels more somber to me when lucid.

of course, that changes if the right buttons are pressed... but that isn't exclusive to him.

since the final chapter is divided into three main scenes, i wanted to fully explore the three predominant ways i picture a yandere version of blade acting. the first is his guilt and shame, the second, his mara-induced sadism, and the third, a more neutral self where reason prevails.

i hope that you enjoyed reading nexus as much as i enjoyed writing it!! although the main storyline is finished, i'm by no means done with the universe as a whole. i'm planning a little epilogue for starters. then maybe some side stories from blade's perspective ?? who knows, the motivation's still there, so anything is possible.

thank you again 💖

-sincerely, lock.

Tag list: @99-nct @pixiestixes (idk why the tag thingy won't work but an effort was made) ...

[miyamiwu]

Last updated: Aug. 8, 09:30pm GMT+8

I first posted about this 2 days ago, but only now did I have the time to sort out how much I exactly need and… it’s a lot

Dorm rent: 1,624 PHP (~29 USD)

Laptop credit bill: 4,000 PHP (~70 USD)

Consultation fee on different psychiatrist: P1,500 (26 USD) 3,000 PHP (~52 USD)

College tuition: 5,000-7,500 PHP (86-130 USD)

Passport: 1,200 PHP (~21 USD)

Total: 13,000-16,000 PHP (225-280 USD) 14,824 - 17,324 PHP (258 - 300 USD)

But the college tuition one is just a rough estimate! Enrollment is still ongoing, so I don’t know yet exactly how much I have to pay for.

If you have any spare cash, please consider helping me out by donating to my Ko-fi:

Or, you can also avail of my alpha reading service on my Ko-fi commissions page. It’s only $5 right now!

Breakdown and explanation of the amounts under the cut

In the post linked above, I mentioned struggling on the June-July dorm payment, but that’s okay now. My mom was able to find a way, but now I have another problem and that’s the August payment and the December deposit. It will be the start of a new semester, and as always, I have to pay for the first month and the last month of the semester upfront. That would be P1,624 (~$29).

I really don’t want to also ask my mom for this, as my youngest sibling just told us in the sibling group chat that she’s been having suicidal thoughts (everyone in this family has mental health issues 😔). And apparently, she also just had an argument with her boyfriend (I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend…)

With that, I will also need P4,000 (~$70), to pay for my laptop’s monthly dues. My mom bought it on credit and she has to pay for it monthly… but seeing as how she’s already depressed over her multitude of debts, I really couldn’t bring myself to burden her with this as well.

Then yesterday, I started my sessions with a new therapist, and she’s telling me to get a second opinion on ADHD.

Remember how a few months back I went to see a psychiatrist? Well, that doctor turned out to be a traumatic experience. She gaslighted me, then denied me having ADHD on the basis of my mom saying that I was a “quiet child who kept to herself.”

Current therapist asked me if I have been considered for ADHD/OCD before, and when I brought up the previous diagnosis, she was unconvinced coz she thinks I may have the inattentive type of ADHD. Now, she’s referring me to a psychiatrist she knows that specializes in my case, but the consultation won’t be free.

Update: I initially thought she’d refer me to someone from the Philippine Mental Health Association (PMHA), where the consultation fee is only P1,500 ($26) since that’s what she mentioned during our session and the PMHA is also on our uni’s list of recommended mental health services. But earlier, she emailed me the three doctors she recommends, and all of them turned out to be from private hospitals/clinics with fees of around P3,000 (~$52) per session… which is twice the amount charged by the PMHA

Next, my college tuition.

I go to a state university, and in my country, tuition should be free for up to 5 years in my course. But due to mental health issues, I’ve had to retake several classes because I could never complete them on time. I also took a leave twice so uhh… I’ve used up my free tuition rights and now have to pay.

I don’t know the exact amount yet, as we are charged by the number of units we are enrolled for… and well, enrollment is still ongoing, and I’m not guaranteed any units as slots are extremely limited. But going from previous receipts, it should be around P25,000 (~S434).

I’m not gonna ask for help on that full amount, though! Because, god, it really is too much. I plan to apply for tuition loan in my uni, and apparently I can get up to 70-80% discount once approved, so after deduction, I’ll only have to pay P5,000-7,500 ($86-130)

Lastly, the passport. I really need to apply for a passport already. I posted about my valid ID woes a while back, but I really can’t find the post again, but long story short, I don’t have a single, valid government ID at the moment, and it’s hindering my access to a lot of services.

I used to have a postal ID, but it expired last year and I can’t renew it because postal ID issuance has been suspended throughout the country for maintenance.

I also applied for a national ID last year, but until now I still haven’t received it. That’s just how fucking inefficient my country is.

The one ID left that’s easy to apply for without a pre-existing valid ID is the passport, so yeah, I really have no choice but to apply for it now. The regular passport fee is 950 PHP, but I listed the price for the expedited one because I need it urgently. That would be P1,200 (~$21).

I need a valid ID to open an account at this one bank that my uni requires for all those aspiring to be student assistants. And in the case my uni scholarship application gets approved, I will also need the account to receive any stipend I may get as they only do it via that bank.

I will also be needing the account to encash stipend cheques I get from a government-funded scholarship (they still haven’t given me my stipend for the previous semester, though). The bank teller has already been lenient with me three times in the past by allowing me to use an expired ID along with my student ID, the latter which they don’t even accept. I really can’t bear to do it again.

Aside these, I will definitely be needing a valid ID and a bank account should I get accepted in any of the jobs I’m applying for… so yeah, I really need the ID 😭

No pressure at all, but if you have a little extra cash, I would be eternally grateful if you donate

USD to PHP conversion is high, so a little goes a long way for me

[thackerybinx01]

Monsterfucker Rom-Com story where you’ve birthed the Anti-Christ or whatever and the demon assigned to them or their demon daddy dukes it out with you on the regular bc they need to make sure this kid is raised to their standards/certain markers need to be hit for the kid to ascend/Demon Daddy to be released to start the apocalypse and

1. You have absolutely no fucks to give why are you in my house running around like you pay bills? Oh? This is your kid? I THINK THE FUCK NOT BITCH this is MY kid GTFO.

2. You/They chose me as their mother for a reason and it’s not bc I’m stupid, how’re y’all gonna take over the world if I can’t get my kid to survive past infancy bc y’all don’t know the meaning of subtlety? you train them on how to use their powers, I’ll teach them basic common sense and some manners bc clearly, you demons have neither and the school will teach them math.

So just enemies to lovers with a demon who’s forced to coparent w/someone who’s gonna fight the devil and god before they let anyone take their kid and v much not intimidated by the demon haunting the kid/house.

“bedtime is bedtime and if you keep my baby up late again whispering creepy shit from the closet the Holy Water I squirt gunned in your face the first time we met won’t be the worst thing I do to you.”

“I will find a way to put you on child support motherfucker, when we slept together you had a human body and a name don’t make me track that identity down, how you gonna be a deadbeat dad to the Antichrist? Gimme your card.”

“They can summon the dead? What do you mean they can summon the dead and you didn’t know they could do that, I’m going to kill you - FIX THIS”

“Is that Karen? Why is she- omg she’s one of yours isn’t she that nosy bitch I fucking knew it!”

Inspired by: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNMWYscj/

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

trauma is an explanation, not an excuse.

this is something i find myself thinking frequently whenever i look through what people have to say about fiona gallagher, or even what the writers of shameless have to say about fiona gallagher.

i think that a lot of the behaviors fiona exhibits throughout her run on the show make a lot of sense when you consider what she endured growing up.

growing up for her, it was about survival. it was about keeping her baby brothers (and eventually, debbie, carl, and liam, too) from freezing to death and about making sure her parents hadn’t overdosed. she was never worried about some of the things her younger siblings (such as debbie) worried about, which caused a strain in her relationships with them.

fiona grew up never putting herself first. she was a victim, but was never treated as one. her parents left all responsibility in her hands, and she was still just viewed as a help rather than a mother.

speaking of this ^ frank’s first line regarding fiona was calling her a huge help, and his last was telling her that she just helped. frank’s monologue from the pilot ended up being one of the most important scenes in the entire show (which i will discuss later).

after years of going without recognition, she starts to change. she starts to crave it. does this happen before the show starts or during it, i don’t know. in season two, debbie points out how fiona always makes everything about herself (which of course, debbie was criticized for). i think that debbie was right. in this case, i’d say that fiona making everything about herself is more her taking the responsibility over everything, because that’s all she knows. she thinks that she can handle everything because she’s been doing it since she was in kindergarten.

in season three, she actually gets guardianship of her five siblings, which is pretty big. she had even tried to adopt them all. so basically, she was seriously taking all of the responsibility. she even told jimmy-steve that these kids were her life. and they were.

then, she got caught up in work and life happened, liam ended up overdosing (because of her) and everything fell apart. this is where we were truly introduced to the fiona we know.

she had already been refusing to take responsibility in the first episode of season four (with ian), but by the time that lip starts to act cold towards her because of liam’s accident she begins to refuse to take any accountability at all. she claims to not be guilty, but she was. she was in charge of him, she left an open bag of coke out and liam got into it. she was guilty.

as the seasons go by, she falls deeper into this victim complex, and then in season seven, she straight up starts telling debbie and carl that she will not support them and that they need to pay rent. she tells them to put her on the bottom of their emergency contact lists. why is this an issue, you may be asking? because she was legal guardian. the only other person taking care of them was frank and if you want to know why frank couldn’t be it, think back to season seven frank (he had a whole new family, for starters).

that is child neglect. you can phrase it however you want to try to make it better, but in the end, that was child neglect, nothing more, nothing less.

in season seven, fiona is twenty-six. debbie is sixteen (with a baby) and carl is fifteen at that point, it doesn’t matter what they did, get pregnant, start dealing, whatever, they’re her kids. she signed up for it so she doesn’t get to act like she didn’t.

in season seven, debbie’s child is almost taken away from her and she asks fiona to help her get a marriage license so that she won’t lose franny. fiona says yes, but when debbie asks her to do it (and mind you, it was urgent, franny ended up being taken- just not by dcfs), fiona screams and says not everything is about debbie. she’s right! it was about franny. yes, debbie approached the situation wrongly but if you were sixteen and you were about to lose your kid you’d be that way too.

later in that season, when fiona finds out debbie’s child is home and safe, she gets irritated that she wasn’t the one to save franny.

is this because of her victim complex or her hero complex? is it maybe envy, envy of monica, who has never acted like a mother towards debbie, yet won her over that easily? i don’t know.

my issue with a lot of fiona fans is that whenever fiona is criticized, on screen or off screen, they use her raising five kids as the ultimate excuse. no matter what. even if she’s in the wrong, it’s all, she raised five kids!

i hate to be the one to say this, but being the oldest, it’s weird how people excuse her actions more than anybody else’s. out of all of the siblings, she’s the only one who we only ever saw as an adult. fiona was twenty-one in season one, and twenty-eight in season nine. she’s been a grown ass adult, she should be held accountable and should take accountability. lip, ian, debbie, carl, and liam all deserve the benefit of the doubt in some situations when they were younger, she doesn’t. she was still young, yes, when you’re in your twenties you can’t be expected to act fourty, i get it, but it’s still odd how babied she can be.

i’m not saying i don’t think that fiona should get any passes, or that i don’t think that fiona did it all, because she did. i excuse a lot of her actions, but not everything. it kind of diminishes her entire character if you excuse and twist every little thing about her.

the reality of it is, she is not a good person. neither are lip, ian, debbie, carl, and maybe even liam, eventually. one of the many points of the show is that they all just kinda… suck. they aren’t necessarily bad people, but good people? angels? no. and that’s why i hate it so much when frank, fiona, lip, and even ian (who’s one of my favorites) get defended for everything. it kind of defeats the purpose, they are shitty, they can do shitty things and still be good characters (not frank though lol); and the same thing applies but reversed, when characters like debbie, who was a kid in almost every season, get held accountable and shit on for every little thing, it ruins the character. you can’t see the good in her or see the impact her decisions actually make because you’re busy viewing her as this monster (when the monster in question is just a teenage girl).

even then, frank’s actions can’t all be excused by being abused as a child, fiona’s actions can’t all be excused by raising five kids, lip’s actions can’t all be excused by his childhood/addiction, ian’s actions can’t all be excused by his illness and debbie, carl, and liam’s. actions can’t all be excused by their age. the actions can somewhat be excused in some scenarios, but it isn’t like enduring trauma is a get-out-of-jail-free card for everything.

[blackcat419]

Alicent being compared to a trad wide or a woman for trump shows how little the writers understand Alicent.

Tradwives as an ideology boils down to pleasing a man and having him support you. To a tradwife, a man can do no wrong and if he does it’s because a woman isn’t pleasing him. It’s an ideology that focuses on the self and assumes that anyone who isn’t living up to their standards is failing no mater what.

But Alicent is the antithesis to the tradwife ideology. She’s the ideal wife in Westeros but she is not treated as such. She shows that you can do everything a man asks of you, give him your physical autonomy, your youth, pay attention to his interest while he never does the same, give him multiple sons, yet he can still decide “this isn’t and will never be enough so I won’t take care of you.”

Alicent sees that the world that was promised to her as a child is false and that no one will sacrifice anything for you even if you’ve given them everything. So she seizes what was promised to her.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 24

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. This chapter is a lot heavier, so please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: heavy violence, mentions of rape

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Just as I’m about to drift off, a loud banging makes me shoot upright. In my half-asleep state I run to the door hoping that Jensen changed his mind and came up for a final goodbye. But instead of his warm embrace and a passionate kiss, when I open the door I feel a cold hard sting on my cheek as my ears ring with the sound of a slap. Tears burn as I blink and try to make sense of what happened. I take a step back but the unfamiliar man follows and snatches my wrist and pulls me to his chest harshly.

“Where is she?” he spits out. I recoil at the feeling of specks of his saliva hitting my cheek. I keep my lips sealed and fight back tears. I know I need to stay strong. I gather up all my courage and elbow him as hard as I can in the ribs and try to pull away but he digs his nails into my wrist as he yanks my other arm around my back before gripping my hair and pulling me into a tight headlock. I scream at the pain but also in an attempt to wake someone. He pushes me further inside and slams the door behind him. “Where is she?” he spits again harshly near my ear. 

I try to pull away again but his grip on my hair is tight and I wince at the pain. Despite the pain I manage to spit out just as harshly, “Like I’d tell you, you abusive son of a bitch!” He yanks my hair again and twists one of my arms back to the point where I’m terrified it’s either going to pop out of its socket or the bone’s going to snap completely. I refuse to give in. “This what you did to her? Pin her in place and force her to have sex with you?”

His grip tightens and I brace myself for the snap and unimaginable pain, but it doesn’t come. Instead he leans down, takes my earlobe between his teeth roughly and pulls back ever so slightly and growls, “I bet you’d like that. Nice and rough.” He trails his lips down my neck where Jensen’s had been not an hour earlier. “You won’t tell me where she is, I’ll take you instead. All I need’s a nice wet hole anyway.”

He manhandles me until I’m laying face-down on the couch, both hands pinning tightly at the small of my back with one of his hands. I try to kick out but he sits on my legs. I lose the fight to my tears as I feel one of his hands reach around to undo the button and zip on my jeans. I feel helpless and scared in a way I never have before. But instead of worrying about myself, I wonder how many times Anna had to endure this treatment and for how long. He slips his hand into the waistband and tries to pull them down but struggles with one hand. Obviously only thinking with rage and his dick he lets go of my hands briefly to pull my jeans and underwear past my hips. As he does, I quickly scramble around reaching for my phone which I know is amongst the cushions somewhere. My fingers briefly stab and glide across the cracked glass but I don’t get a hold of it before he’s roughly yanking my arms back. I feel the vibrations under me, sparking some hope that I managed to do something. Luckily it’s silenced by the sound of him undoing his belt and jeans. I have no way of knowing who called, whether I got the emergency function or just a random person from my contacts, and no way of answering anyway. He grips my hair and yanks me upright so my bare ass is touching his front. I scream out again and he slaps me. 

“Last chance bitch, tell me where she is or you’re becoming my new plaything.”

“At least use a condom, you pig. I’m not on birth control. So unless you wanna pay me child support.” Feeling his erect dick against my ass I fully start to panic. Seeing as it’s been ages since I last slept with anyone I let my script lapse. And as much as I don’t want to be raped by this abusive psycho, I also don’t want to be forced to carry his child. I pull against him with all my strength and scream at the top of my lungs. He slaps me across the face again and covers my mouth with one hand effectively muffling my sounds. This gives me better access to lick and bite at his disgusting skin. He recoils as my teeth sink into his palm. With his weight on my legs I can’t move, but I use the opportunity to free my hands and reach for my phone again. I manage to swipe across and return the missed call, but I don’t see who it is. He snatches my phone from my hands and pegs it at the tiles causing the screen to shatter completely before switching to black. I continue to scream myself hoarse as he crushes me into the couch. I can feel against my back that the pain had an impact but he’s now even more irate. With all of his weight holding my front against the cushions, he takes his free hand and slaps — not sexual spanks, hard, bruising slaps — my bare ass countless times.

My head is spinning, overrun with fear and pain. I can’t move my body. I can’t roll over, pull my pants up, reach for my broken phone, I’m completely petrified. I block out everything as I accept my fate. I can’t even tell if I’m crying or screaming anymore. I can’t hear myself. I barely even feel the lasting sting of the pain he’s inflicted. I just feel numb.

When he speaks again he sounds like I’m underwater. It’s muffled and slurred and I can’t focus on the words. I just lay there completely numb letting it happen. I have no fight left. He’s got me completely pinned and I have no mode of contact. I tell myself it’s over.

I don’t feel him pull away or stand up. I don’t hear the door breaking down. I don’t notice when a group of people enter the apartment. I’m too far removed. I can’t even pull away when I’m wrapped in a blanket and pulled into someone else’s arms. My limbs are too stiff, my mind is too numb. When my chin is tilted up to meet the person’s eyes I can’t focus, everything is blurred. But as numb as I am, I know it’s someone else. I feel warmer, safe. And my body shuts down.

When I can finally open my eyes all I see is white. There’s a dull, steady beeping from somewhere behind me. As my senses slowly return I feel a weight on my right hand. I instinctively squeeze, but am shocked when the feeling is reciprocated. I furiously blink my eyes and try to sit up.

“Hey, Hey, Darlin’. It’s okay now. You’re safe. Take a breath for me.”

I look towards the voice and can’t believe my eyes or ears. I must still be asleep or hallucinating. My mind starts to race. Am I still on that couch? Is that rapist still here?

The beeping speeds up and I feel a squeeze again as the deep voice continues. “You’re safe now. I’m right here. You’re safe. Deep breaths.”

I try to hold onto his words. Real or not, they’re grounding and comforting. I’m just shocked that the voice of my subconscious is not Stella or my parents. It’s a man that I’ve known for two and a bit months. But when the weight in my hand disappears it all starts to feel real. My eyes fly open and I finally manage to survey my surroundings. There’s an IV in my arm, a clip on my finger and monitors to my sides. I sit up quickly and look around for my things. There’s no way I can afford this treatment. As I swing my legs off the side of the bed I hear footsteps behind me. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, it’s good to see you’re awake and doing better but we need you to stay in bed while we run a few more tests.” I reluctantly turn around to face the voice. “I’m Doctor Matt, the paramedics brought you in after you passed out from what at this stage seems like a panic attack, but we want to be sure…Especially considering the circumstances under which they were called.” He takes a few steps closer to the bed with a tablet in his hands. “There’s a few questions I need to ask you, but let me know if at any stage it becomes too much.”

I nod but then my eyes drift past the doctor to the man standing in the doorway. His arms are crossed over his chest, a look of worry etched on his face and his emerald eyes look bloodshot. He nods at me, “I’ll be in the waiting room.” I nod back as he turns and disappears behind the curtain.

“We’ve checked your physical injuries and they appear superficial and will heal in time, but you can take anti inflammatories for the pain. However, given the circumstances I wanted to offer for one of our psych counsellors to speak with you before we discharge you and let the police do their questioning.”

I look at the doctor and hesitantly ask, “Did you do a rape kit already?”

He shakes his head. “We wanted to wait for your consent. But also, as the man responsible is already in custody there may be no reason to put you through that. But if you want to be sure, I can ask someone to come down and run one.”

I nod. “I need to know. What if-What if I’m pregnant?”

“Unfortunately there would be no way of knowing this soon. If you take the test we’ll know if there’s any signs of ejaculate, but regardless we can also provide emergency contraception.”

I nod. “I want both. I need to know. I’ve been through too much to not know.”

“Okay. I’ll ask someone our sexual assault unit to come down.”

I nod again, but then ask, “How much extra will all this cost? You should already know I don’t have health insurance. I can’t afford-”

“We can see if we can register you for NYC Care to try and bring the bill down. In the meantime, did you want me to send your boyfriend back in to wait with you?”

“My boyfriend?” I shake my head in confusion and then it clicks. “Uh, sure.”

He notices my hesitation. “I can tell him you’re resting?”

“No it’s okay. I should talk to him.”

“You coud wait until after you speak with psych. I know this must be a difficult situation.”

“Thanks, but no. I should talk to him.”

Doctor Matt nods and walks out of the thin, paper curtain. A few long minutes later, the curtain rustles again and Jensen walks in. I want to fight with him and tell him to go to Vancouver, that he shouldn’t have skipped his flight for me, but instead I burst into tears. He rushes to my side and sits on the edge of the bed. He hesitantly takes my hand and pulls me into his arms.

“You’re safe. I’ve got you now.” He rubs his hands up my back as he hushes and soothes me. 

“Y-You shouldn’t-”

“Hey, hey. I’m exactly where I should be. I’m just glad I was here. I can’t imagine…I’m so sorry.”

I continue to cry into his shoulder while he holds me close. “Y-you t-told … boyfriend…”

“I’m sorry. I know, they wouldn’t let me in otherwise…it doesn’t have to mean anything. I don’t expect anything from you right now. You just need to heal, but I also wanted to be here for you.” I can tell there’s so much more he wants to say but is holding back for me. 

“Jens…H-How d-d-“

“You were typing for ages. Those bubbles were there for ages and it seemed off and then when I called you didn’t answer. And the second and third time it went directly to massagebank. And then I realized…” He hugs me closer. “I’m so sorry. I should have told Clif to take you to your friend’s.”

Hearing him blame himself breaks me further. I try to hug him back. “Thank you for saving me,” I manage to get out between sobs. 

“I wish I could’ve gotten there sooner or got the emergency services. I’m sorry you went through so much.”

The curtain shuffles again and a female doctor steps inside. I pull slightly away from Jensen to look at her. “Hi Ms. Y/L/N. I’m Dr. Julie, I’m a sexual assault examiner, Dr. Matt said you wanted to get a rape test.” I nod and Jensen stands up but I grab his hand. 

“Please stay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please…”

Dr. Julie looks at both of us. “He’s welcome to stay if that’s what you want as the patient, but if he does, I need to warn you both that if it comes up positive and you decide to report this crime to the police he could be asked to be a witness.”

Jensen nods. “That’s fine by me.” He looks at me, “I called the emergency services in the first place, I’m already a witness. I’ll do whatever you need me to. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

I nod. “Stay.”

He helps me lay back down on the pillows before sitting on the edge of the bed and facing me. He keeps holding my hand while the doctor gathers all the supplies. She then helps pull the blanket down and checks over my whole body while taking some swabs and samples.

Jensen squeezes my hand comfortingly as he keeps his eyes on my face, not straying once.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

@speakinvain, @deans-baby-momma, @1967winchesterimpala

@lmg14, @superrey