#now kit being the one who is FINALLY taken care of

[ikuzeminna]

What does a goose have to do with any of it...?

We're all wondering what the heck Tallgeese is supposed to be derived from, so I decided to do some research and the result is either ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ or a Simone Biles level routine of mental gymnastics, which, notably, is not allowed to stick the landing.

But I finally figured out what Epyon is supposed to mean (which is an utter embarrassment that it took me so long, I'm so sorry @tinyozlion), so hooray for small victories, at least.

So first things first, let's get Epyon's etymology out of the way. The mobile suit name Epyon, phonetically /ˈe.pion/, is likely derived from the Ancient Greek word επιόν, phonetically /e.piˈon/, which means "the next one/the future one." Awfully fitting considering the characters treat Epyon and its system as though it can tell the future. I also find it hilarious how the Greek wiki page features a translation, whereas the English version just assumes everyone is fluent in Attic.

As if.

Bonus information for linguists:

Here's the excuse I have for not finding out sooner Epyon is apparently taken from επιόν. Επιόν is the present active participle, neuter nominative/accusative/vocative singular, of the verb ἔπειμι (épeimi), according to Attic inflectional endings, with the verb having various meanings, among them "to exist in the future/to approach/to attack" etc.

This means that επιόν is not a word you can directly look up in a dictionary, like the one I have lying around. You need to know it's derived from ἔπειμι and then know your Attic declension to reach this form. All I wanna know right now is who the Ancient Greek buff at Sunrise was who's to credit for this. Because this was in the era before anyone even thought of uploading translations of Ancient Greek words onto the worldwide web. And how you end up with one suit having a name you need to have studied a dead language for and another named after statuesque waterfowl.

Ikeda, I have questions.

On an additional note, επιών, the masculine singular, sounds the same phonetically, but since Epyon is a mobile suit and thus an object, it makes more sense to go with the neuter. Unlike with humans and animals, things don't usually have a gender in Greek unless it's a loanword.

Okay, so now that Epyon is figured out, let's look at Tallgeese. This one is a wild ride.

For the sake of argument, we'll step away from the goose thing for a second. Tallgeese in Japanese is spelled トールギス (Tōrugisu), which, taking Japanese's limits into account and the translated Amazon.co.jp listings of the mobile suit's various gunpla kits, means we could write Tallgeese as anything ranging from "Tallgis" to "Torgis." I've seen all kinds of spellings for it. (The obscure ones sometimes let you find a kit at a very reasonable price.)

So let's look at what theme OZ suits adhere to. Here's a list of all of them:

OZ-00MS Tallgeese

OZ-02MD Virgo

OZ-06MS Leo

OZ-07AMS Aries

OZ-07MS Tragos (Greek for Capricorn)

OZ-08MMS Cancer

OZ-09MMS Pisces

OZ-12SMS Taurus

OZ-13MS Epyon

OZ-13MSX1 Vayeate

OZ-13MSX2 Mercurius

Bonus: battleship Libra

The grunt suits are all in the 01-12 range, which corresponds to the Zodiac constellations being 12, even if they don't care about the correct order. Tallgeese, Epyon, Vayeate and Mercurius are the only ones outside this Zodiac range, so time to look at what other constellations there are.

Turns out there are 88 of them by now. 48 originally if we go with Ptolemy's version.

Let's look at the suit to find some hints as to what we're looking for.

The red front-to-back plume evokes Roman or Spartan military. The round shield is definitely closer to trademark Spartan than Roman, so coupled with the death wish you need to pilot it, I'd say Spartan is a reasonable pick.

I mean, if it fits, it fits.

The other interesting detail about Tallgeese is the yellow bird emblem on the shield, which it doesn't have in the series because it probably would have been too much of a pain to animate. The gunpla feature it though.

Here's the Tallgeese, and the Tallgeese Flügel version.

The emblem on the shield is tinier, but it's there, and it's added to the giant wings as well. The reasonable assumption is that that's an eagle, which happens to exist as a constellation. Aquila, or rather Aëtos, and more specifically the Aetos Dios, "was a giant, golden eagle which served as Zeus' personal messenger and animal companion."

Tallgeese would be equated to Zeus then, since the suit obviously isn't the golden eagle itself, being all white. If we view Tallgeese as the father of all mobile suits and consider that Zeus fathered... honestly, everyone and his dog in Greek mythology <_<, it fits.

So, do we have a constellation that is something big, white, preferably with wings, that's connected to Zeus? Yup, there is the swan, Cygnus, or Kyknos if you prefer Greek, which has a very interesting story of how it ended up in the night sky.

Turns out it's another one of Zeus' romantic adventures where he transformed into a swan to seduce Leda, the queen of Sparta.

"Leda was a queen of Sparta, the wife of King Tyndareus, who was seduced by Zeus in the guise of the swan. There were several versions of the parentage of her children:- Some say she laid an egg from which were hatched the Dioskouroi (Dioscuri) twins, Kastor and Polydeukes, both sons of Zeus. Others say she laid two eggs each containing a child of Zeus and a child of Tyndareus--Polydeukes and Kastor in one, and Helene and Klytaimnestra (Clytemnestra) in the other. Yet others relate that the second egg, containing just Helene, was delivered to Leda by the goddess Nemesis who had lain it after coupling with Zeus in the guise of a goose."

....We have arrived at the goose.

Fun fact: geese, swans and ducks are grouped into one family (anatidae). This is an important tidbit as things will become very dumb from this point onward.

Because I may have gotten Spartan, golden eagle, giant white bird and predecessor all consolidated under the Cygnus constellation, but etymologically, "Tallgeese" is nowhere near anything I've discussed so far. :(

It doesn't sound like Cygnus, it doesn't sound like Zeus, or any child of his with the Spartan queen. It doesn't even sound Greek, and yes, I checked more carefully this time. The best I can give is στοργής (storgís) which would be the genitive form of the word "affection," which could fit with the swan story if you reach enough to rival Luffy, but doesn't explain where the S went. The other option is οργή (orgí) which means fury, but is missing the T.

So I got the theme of the suit figured out, I think, but the name? Nope.

Is there maybe a star in the Cygnus constellation that sounds like Tallgeese or even just tall or geese?

Nope. I checked the other birds as well, like the eagle or the dove. Nothing. I checked if there was any star at all that sounded anything like tall or geese and the closest I got was Gliese 581, which is a red dwarf in the Libra constellation and not visible to the naked eye.

Fun fact: there is also Vulpecula et Anser, the Fox and Goose, which have been reduced to just the fox in modern constellations, so we did have a goose up there in ancient times.

All these dead ends lead to three options:

I'm either looking at the wrong language and Tallgeese or Torgis or whatever is close to the word for swan in a different language

Ikeda is trolling and it really is a tall goose or

I'm off my rocker and the Tallgeese was never associated with Cygnus to begin with. Which would call the goose into question again.

So, which one is it?

¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

The final season of Sailor Moon never fails to have me in tears because of the absolute hilarity that are the Sailor Starlights' attacks. Sailor Star Fighter's attack is "Star Serious Laser." Sailor Star Healer's is "Star Sensitive Inferno", which already has me go ???? But it's Sailor Star Maker who breaks me with her "Star Gentle Uterus." I have no idea what that lady is throwing, but I know I don't wanna get hit by it.

What I mean to showcase here is that [random adjective] + [random noun] = perfectly fine attack name for a Japanese manga/anime in the 90s.

It's hard to believe that the crew who had ridiculously specific knowledge of Ancient Greek would just derp with English, but what if they did? Let's say they wanted to name the suit after Cygnus, but in a language different from Latin or Greek to cement it is an outlier, while also pointing out that it is bigger than normal suits, so they got "tall" but landed on goose instead of swan because someone mixed them up. And it's "geese" and not "goose" because it's a nod to there being more than one Tallgeese, especially since Japanese doesn't even differentiate between singular and plural.

....

Look, I tried.

[wikitpowers]

please please can kit get hugged and comforted by ty in the same way that he hugged and comforted ty in tda?????? bc i need that like i need air 🥹

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

W.C › 5.6k

Warnings › Chapter 1. Male omegas have a bit of a strange anatomy. Tried to explain it well. In any case, male omegas have pussies.

Plot › You go through a Pseudo heat and learn more about what your parents truly did to your body

Kinks › use of pussy, dirty talk, cumming untouched

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟮:

𝘾𝙞𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨 & 𝘼𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙨

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

❝ お兄ちゃん、どうして私を守ってくれなかったの？ ❞

“Do they hate me?”

“Mhm? Who is they?”

“You know.”

“I don’t, (Name).”

“Yes you do. But mom actually likes you.”

“This again?”

“Yukina is gone. Now I’m her target. Why can’t you see that?”

“It’s nonsense, that’s why. No mother could ever hate her child. No parent would ever hate their children. Familial love is one that can’t be replaced.”

“…Naoki would understand. But you… you…”

“Naoki? Seriously? Have you taken your suppressants?”

“Naoki says I shouldn’t take it! No one else takes it. You don’t even take it. My scent is sweet, it’s not sour like yours. It’s fine—”

“(Name), think for a moment. You being an omega is already enough on the family. Would it hurt you to just try and make our parents proud? Can’t you just do this one thing for them? For us?”

❝ なぜですか？苦しいよ、直樹。❞

“Will he be okay? Has he even gone through a heat before? Is he a late bloomer?”

Miya sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she glanced over at Watanabe. You were barricaded in your bedroom—the smell of heat spilling in from underneath the door. Watanabe was by the kitchen, his hands grasped tightly at the wooden chair Miya usually used when she wanted to cook without standing.

She could already see the chipped wood forming beneath his palms. The sound of the wood breaking slowly.

She’d complain about that another time. It was a shock Watanabe was even lucid enough to not bust the door down and mate you. This sight of Watanabe was interesting. His cool bad boy facade was long gone, replaced by an anxious alpha.

You’d think Watanabe had mated you ages ago.

“Mhm. I don’t know. He’s never had a heat before because of…” Her voice trailed off, her lips pursing together. Did he know? Would it be safe to tell him? Would you even want her to tell him?

“Because of?” Watanabe muttered, finally looking over at Miya. She could see his eyes were blown, unfocused. They looked to be struggling to not narrow in at your bedroom door.

Miya didn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet. The whole journey here she wanted to get you away from him. But she could tell just from his soured scent that he wasn’t focused on fucking you. He was genuinely scared right now.

“He presented late, that’s all.” It wasn’t a total lie.

A strangled moan left your bedroom and Miya could see in seconds Watanabe’s gaze zero in on your door. His grip tightened on the chair and she heard the wood crack. Slowly his palms bleed red as he grit his teeth, closing his eyes as he began to whisper something to himself.

Miya inched over to the door, ready to defend your safety if need be. She didn’t care that she only reached his chest, stomach really. She’d fight to the death for you if she had to.

A knock on the door caught her attention. “Huh? Who…?”

“My mom.” Watanabe suddenly whispered, moving his hand away from the chair. The chair was totally destroyed, coated in his blood. His hands had pricks and splinters as he plucked out the large ones and dropped them by the trash as he stiffly walks to the front door.

“When did you even call your mom?” Miya asked, wondering what his mother could possibly do in a situation like this.

“Texted.” He bluntly said, pulling the front door open.

A chubby woman with greying brown hair pulled into a neat bun was shown, dressed in a nurse garment. Ah, that’s why. Her lips were pursed as she narrowed at Watanabe’s bleeding hands. She pulled out a first aid kit from her bag and stepped inside, handing it over to Watanabe.

Ms. Watanabe glanced around the room before sniffing the air, a frown pulling on her lips as she noticed Miya by the door. “Ah, are you Tanaka’s alpha?” She asked, walking over to Miya.

Miya hummed, needing to get used to the title. “Ah.. Yes. Furukawa Miya.”

“Watanabe Hitomi. I’m a doctor that specializes in omegas healthcare. Ah, ignore the nurse garments, today was my day off, I just put whatever on.” She laughed to herself, smiling brightly.

“Mhm. Then… can you check on (Name)? He’s never had a heat before.”

“Yes, of course. I just wanted to make sure I had permission.”

“Permission?”

“Yes. Alphas are so territorial! Even with betas like me,” she giggled. “Riki, you haven’t mated Tanaka yet, yes?”

Watanabe only grunted, busy bandaging his hands.

“I’ll be back, Furukawa-San.”

Miya bowed her head. “Thank you, Watanabe-San.”

“Ah, call me Hitomi. I have a feeling we’ll be like family soon.” Hitomi grinned, opening the bedroom door and stepping inside.

Hitomi couldn’t help her gasp as she slammed the door behind herself quickly, hoping none of your scent had slipped out. She pulled out a small packet of pills and a water bottle as she stepped over to your bed.

And there you were, nude burying your face into a sweater that was seeped in Miya’s citrus scent. You whined at the sight of Hitomi, too horny to care about your nudity. Hitomi’s beta scent was refreshing. Minty like any other beta. But it was nice. Miya’s scent was doing nothing for you.

But there was something in Hitomi’s scent that caught your attention, no matter how fuzzy it was.

Ume?

Riki? Does she know him? Mhm, Ume…

“Tanaka-San, I’m sorry this is how we meet. I’m Watanabe Hitomi, Riki’s mother. He wanted me to check on you because it’s your first ever heat, yes?”

You only whined at the mention of Riki’s name. Why wasn’t he here with you right now? Did he not want you? Were you not enough?

A cool hand against your neck caused you to flinch, your eyes opening again to look at Hitomi. She smiled softly, sitting down on the bed as she rest the water bottle on the night stand.

“It’s okay, Omega. Breathe. Your Alpha loves you.” She whispered, her voice motherly. “But he can’t be here. It’s your first ever heat, it’s a dangerous time for you, Pup. He could accidentally hurt you.”

You whined, feeling your fist tighten their grip on Miya’s sweater. Hurt you? Riki would never. He could never hurt you. Just what was this lady talking about?

Hitomi chuckled. “Well you can growl so I don’t need to check that.”

Growl? You didn’t even notice you were making any noise beside whimpering.

“I have something to help with the pain, Pup. It’s a heat suppressant. Have you taken any other suppressants? One that wasn’t only for heats?”

Shame creeped up on you as you looked away, biting your lip. Hitomi watched as you slowly nod. She didn’t say anything for a moment—as if waiting for you to elaborate. You slowly reached over and pulled open your night stand’s drawer.

“Is it in here?” She asked, looking over as she reached inside and pulled out the empty packets. You watched as her calm eyes began to widen in horror as she read the name. “…L…Limited X…?! Tanaka-San, are you serious?!”

She calmed down when you responded with a whimper, curling up into yourself further in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Pup. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Hitomi leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. You couldn’t help but purr.

Doctors aren’t supposed to be this loving but you would ignore it in the fact she was your alpha’s mother. Wasn’t she practically your mother now?

“Miya said you were a late bloomer… Was that a lie? Did you present?” She took your whine as a yes. “When did you start taking Limited X?”

A grunt left your throat as you parted your lips, “…nine…”

“Nine…? When.. When did you present?!”

“Nine…”

Hitomi pulled away. You saw from the corner of your eye her panicked expression as she whispered something herself. Was it that bad? Your situation couldn’t have been that rare. She let out a sigh before turning back over to you, a small smile on her lips.

“Your parents are awful, Pup. But it’s okay now. I got you.” She whispered, her voice shaky as she reached over and gently brushed your cheek. Her hand trailed down to your neck as she touched your scent gland. A broken gasp left her lips at the tough skin her fingers grazed.

“Mhm..?” You whined

“Your scent gland isn’t even…” Her look of surprise was soon replaced with fury. Her jaw tightened as she shook her head, patting your back as she stood up. “I’m sorry, Pup. I can’t let you take the suppressants. You need to let the heat run its course. Is there anything you want before I go? I’ll come back to visit you in a day or two.”

“Riki… I want Riki…”

“I’m sorry, but he can’t spend it with you. It’s for your safety, baby.”

“Please… Please… Want him…”

Hitomi pursed her lips as she glanced over at the door. “Okay. For a minute.” She left the room, leaving you alone. Your hand found the fluidity to toss Miya’s sweater across the room, wanting the citrus scent far away from your nose.

Your eyes fluttered open when you felt a cool hand gently touch your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep. A low purr left your throat when your eyes met Riki’s. There he was.

Well, he was a bit far from you.

You hum and raise an eyebrow, reaching over to grab his hand and pull him closer. But he quickly resisted, pulling his hand away. The sound that leaves you is almost like that of a kicked puppy as you look at him in shock.

The words are on the tip of your tongue but you were too far gone in your heat to speak now.

“Sorry… Sorry, I can’t get too close. It’s hard enough being here.” Riki muttered, his eyes looking at everything but you. You noticed his tense posture, back straight entirely with his fists clenched at his sides. The bandages wrapped around his fists catch your attention as you whimper, wondering how he got hurt in such a short amount of time.

Did Miya fight him??? Oh god, you hoped that they would get close not fight.

A strangled grunt leaving Riki’s chest made you look up at him, seeing his jaw set tight. Was your scent affecting him this badly?

“Ah, (Name), I can’t stay in here much longer.” Riki groaned, reaching down and pulling off his shirt. Your eyes widen as your legs clamp together, an eager smirk pulling on your lips. Neither can you, you felt as if you would burst if he just continued to stand there.

But whatever you thought was going to happened was ignored when he tossed the shirt at your face. Any disappointment was drowned out when you sniffed the shirt, sighing in relief at having the Japanese apricots fill your nostrils.

“Why didn’t she tell me you were naked….”

Your eyes peek open to see Riki moving away, the sound of his pants falling onto the ground causing you to purr in appreciation at the sight of his ass. He also tossed his pants at you. It hit your square in the face but you didn’t care, eager to just bury your nose in his scent.

“Riki…” You mewled, slick coating the bedsheets beneath you.

“Shh. If you say my name again I’ll cum.” He said bluntly, his hand gripping at his boxers before pulling them off. You couldn’t help the slight squeal that left you as he tossed the boxers to you. You forgot all about his pants and shirt as you bit at his boxers, purring at the fabric in your hands.

Ah, it was right against his cock.

You thought he was now coming to join you in bed but you whined as you watched him slip on some clothes. What?! What the fuck?! He changed into a plain old t-shirt and sweatpants. Where did he even get that?!

You felt like throwing a tantrum.

Here you were, pliant, soaking wet, practically begging for him. And he was only nice enough to give you his boxers?!

Riki finally turned around, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Don’t give me those eyes. I’m following my mom’s instructions. I’ll visit you again tomorrow.” He walked over to you with his fingers pinching his nose. A slight giggle left your lips at the sight as he leaned down and pressed a kiss on your lips before quickly pulling away and sprinting to the door.

“Bye!” He yelled, closing the door behind him.

He was lucky he’s cute…

You glanced down at the boxers still in your hand and sighed. This will have to do for tonight.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Aren’t they cute?”

You kneel down, peering into the small pond. The koi fish swirl around each other as you poke your finger in the water. They disburse away from your small ripple, finding safety near the other side. A slight giggle leaves your lips.

“They’re funny.”

“Funny? Mhm, I don’t know. I think you’re more funny looking.”

A gasp leaves you as you turn over to face Naoki, pouting at the laugher that begins to escape him. He falls back onto his butt while you cross your arms together and fane a look of disappointment at his teasing.

“Meanie. The girls at my school say I’m cute. And that I smell sweet!”

“Do they? What did you bribe them with?”

“B..Bri…be..? What does that mean?”

Naoki only chuckled, reaching over to pull you close with him on the grass. “Ask your teacher. But you do smell sweet, (Name). My little pudding.”

“Well…! You smell like vanilla!”

“Vanilla? That’s too sweet for an alpha like me.”

“Don’t care. You’re sweet. Sweet alphas are better than smelly alphas like Daichi.”

“Really? Then I hope you get with an alpha with the sweetest scent there is.”

“Ew! I don’t like alphas. Only you and Miya. Yuck!”

Naoki laughed. You couldn’t remember his face. It hurt so much to only remember his heart shaped smile. Why couldn’t you remember his eyes? His nose? The only person to love you and you can’t even remember him properly?

“(Name), c’mon, drink this!”

A groan left your throat as your eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. You looked to your left and saw Miya holding a glass of water. She smiled and reached down, wiping at your face before helping you sit up.

“Did you sleep well? You had a big smile on your face before I woke you up.” She asked, sitting down on the bed. You hummed absentmindedly, eager to quench your thirst.

“How long has it been?”

“A week.”

“Week?! Heats only last three days…”

“Yeah will you haven’t exactly gone through a heat before. Anyway, Hitomi-San came to visit you everyday to make sure you didn’t die.”

“Die?!”

Miya hummed. “You were sometimes so cold during the night or really hot. She would sometimes stay the night to make sure you didn’t stop breathing too.”

“Crap… I don’t remember anything that happened…”

“Well you didn’t do anything embarrassing if you’re worried about that.” Miya said, taking the empty glass from you. Her lip slightly twitched as she smirked. “Ah, wait, no that’s not true… you did embarrass yourself when Watanabe came.”

You froze, looking over at Miya with a look of fear. Miya smirked and began to laugh, enjoying your panicked expression.

“What?! What did I do?”

“It was so funny… Hitomi-San was cleaning the slick off your body when Watanabe came into the room to give you fresh clothes with his scent. You practically shoved Hitomi-San off the bed to launch yourself at Watanabe. I should’ve recorded it!!”

“Is Hitomi-San okay?!”

“Yeah, she’s fine. Watanabe wasn’t, you made him fall and knock his head against your desk! Then you started crying as if you killed him because he was knocked out for a second. Anyway he had to get stitches on the back of his head.”

You stared at Miya with your mouth agape, physically imagining the event in your head. You were so glad you couldn’t remember anything. It was already bringing you shame and embarrassment at the fact you literally attacked Riki just cause of your stupid heat.

Not to mention shoving away the woman who was helping you live… Gosh, you wanted to curl up and die.

Miya had finally stopped laughing and pulled out her phone, showing you a picture she must’ve took of that night. Sure enough, there you are, naked as the day you were born. Luckily enough Miya had cropped it to where it was only the upper half of your body.

You were straddling Riki, holding his face in your hands as you looked to be in a mid cry. There was a small amount of blood on the floor from what you could tell so he really did get hurt. Miya swiped, showing a short video that was Riki waking up, looking absolutely disoriented before narrowing in on you. Immediately a blush appeared on his face and he practically bucked you off of him.

Your cries were heard in the background as you were flung off camera. Video Miya yelled something about being careful while Hitomi had moved over to you. Riki moved to stood up but soon collapsed back onto the ground, earning a shrill scream from what you could only assume was yourself. The video soon ended with Miya accidentally turning the camera on your bare butt as you once again shoved Hitomi away to get to Riki.

That was…

“Oh my god.” You whispered, wanting to end it all right then and there while Miya laughed her ass off.

“I’ve never seen you act so animal like!” Miya laughed, wiping away the stray tears from her face. “It was nice. Felt like the first time you were truly yourself. Even if it was while you were butt naked, dripping slick all over the carpet.”

“Miya!!”

“What? It’s a normal bodily function. Don’t get embarrassed.” She patted you on the back and stood up, stretching. “Anyway, Hitomi-San and Watanabe will be here in a few hours. Take a shower… a long one.”

With that, she left your room, leaving it open as Ume sprinted inside. Ume purred as she jumped onto your bed and immediately got comfortable, curling into herself. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing Ume must’ve been upset to not have access to your room for such a long time.

She hated closed doors. Ume practically owned the place.

You rubbed at your neck, groaning as you stretched your sore body. Your body sputtered for a moment as your fingers gently rubbed against the lower center of your neck. It… was a bit softer?

It was still sold and rough but there was a slight softness that wasn’t there before.

It wasn’t too late for you…?

You could be mated?

You’d have to ask Hitomi. But you couldn’t help the slight giddy smile on your lips. You could be Riki’s if it really was softening… A slight glob of slick soaked the bedsheets beneath you. You groaned, rolling your eyes. This was going to have to take some getting used to.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Miya fiddled with her phone, her eyes flickering around as she closed the apartment door behind her. Her phone began to ring—startling her out of her thoughts as she quickly answered it without looking at the caller ID.

“Hey. How are things there?” She whispered, walking to lean over the railing. Her dyed purple hair was pulled back into a small ponytail as the wind blew her bangs upward.

The voice on the other line as hushed and quiet.

“Terrible. He’s back.”

“Which one?”

“Obviously the eldest. He had a wedding ring on his finger. I think he’s married now.”

“Married…? He didn’t tell (Name)? Does he even have a mating mark?”

“That type of alpha would never let anyone mark him. Anyway, he talked to me as if we’re friends. The nerve.”

“Shit. Did he say anything weird?”

“Besides the fact he was not so subtly making fun of me for still living at mom’s place, no. He did insult me being a mangaka, I don’t remember telling him that. Did (Name) tell him?”

“Really, Yuzuru? (Name) doesn’t even talk to his mom unless she calls. He’s not talking to Daichi.”

“Watch your mouth. I’m still the oldest, little shit. I don’t have to do this spying shit for you.”

“Then say goodbye to your precious beta reader!”

“Wait! Sorry, sorry. Anyway, I still haven’t seen Naoki. I… huh?”

“Mhm? What’s wrong?”

“Uh… Daichi just came back with a woman… an omega I think.”

“Omega? No way in hell… those alpha elitist would never mate with an omega…” Miya waited for her brother to continue speaking but she soon heard the sound of a woman talking before the phone abruptly cut off.

She cursed, ready to call Yuzuru back when she saw Hitomi and Watanabe walk up the stairs to the complex. She’d have to call him back later. With a huff, she put her phone away and grinned, waving at Hitomi.

Hitomi smiled, her eyes closing into crescent moons. “Morning, Miya-Chan! I brought breakfast for you and Tanaka. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I did! (Name)-Kun is doing great thanks to your help. He just woke up a few minutes ago.” Miya reached over and took the plastic bag away from Hitomi, opening the apartment door to let them inside. She rolled her eyes at Watanabe’s lack of greeting.

She could tell he was fidgety. His eyes quickly narrowing in on your bedroom door, practically waiting for you to come out so he could see if you were truly okay.

Hitomi pulled out a MedKit from her bag, going straight to your room. She didn’t knock, just pushed the door open before shutting it behind her.

Just your luck, you were putting on your underwear when she came in. You shrieked, reaching to cover your nude body from her eyes.

“Calm down, Pup. I’ve seen everything by now.” She said honestly, resting the MedKit on your nightstand as she pulled out what looked to be a thermometer and some pills. “Come here once you’re dressed.”

You slipped on a baggy t-shirt and shorts, wondering if you should bring up the whole… shoving incident. “Uhm… If… uh.. there.. was anything weird I did… while… y’know… in heat… I uhm…”

Hitomi glanced over at you. “You mean giving my son a concussion and having him bleed out on the floor?”

Your breathing halted, your eyes widening at her words. Well when she puts it that way…

Her gaze was harsh on you before a gummy smile pulled on her lips. “It’s okay, Pup. You aren’t the craziest patient I’ve had to dealt with. You were tame. Now c’mere.”

You walked over to where she was by your desk and watched as she held up the thermometer, motioning for you to pry your lips apart.

“Besides,” she said, slipping the thermometer into your mouth. “You look cute while crying. You cared so much for my Riki. I think if Miya hadn’t held you back, you would’ve followed us to the hospital.”

“Followed…?” You muttered, taking the thermometer out of your mouth to once it beeped. Hitomi took it from you and hummed. A good temperature you’d assume.

“Yes. You wouldn’t even let me touch Riki at first. Took Riki waking back up and telling you to calm down for you to finally release him.”

“I didn’t know omegas could be… territorial.”

“Everyone is territorial. Especially for someone they love. Omegas can be scary when they want to. You almost bit me.” Hitomi said nonchalantly.

“Bit?!”

“It’s fine. Like I said, you were like a kitten compared to other patients I’ve had.” She opened the bottle of pills and poured out two capsules, handing them over to you. “You seem fine. But you didn’t go through a full heat. It was just a pre-heat. Your full heat will be in two months.”

“Only a pre-heat…? But it was intense.”

“Mhm. It was. Your body was only getting you ready. You are severely underdeveloped,” she said, her tone turning serious. “I advise you to not have any penetrative sex until your hole… has grown.”

“Grown?”

“Yes. I checked it. It’s too small for an omega. Your cock should also become small as well.”

“What? Wait? I thought male omegas could have dicks?”

“Who told you that? Male omegas are born with dicks but they lose them during their first heat. Then a vagina begins to form and your dick will become a clit. Your hole is there, just too small to be called a vagina at the moment.”

“You weren’t talking about my butt hole..?”

“No.” Hitomi frowned. “Did no one teach you about male omegas? I know they’re rare but they should still teach you all about these things. You need to know your body…” Her lips pursed as if she was in thought before looking over at the door.

You glanced over, wondering if she saw something.

“Ah. Have Riki show you where your hole is. I’m sure you don’t want me touching it.” She said, putting away her materials. “You can also have him help you stretch it. It’ll help with the process.”

“S..Stretch it..?”

“Yes. Finger you. You can always finger yourself but at least let him show you where it is.” With that, she grabbed her MedKit and left the room, leaving you standing there with your mouth agape.

Vagina…? Clit...? Fingering?!

You felt lightheaded. All this time, your body was underdeveloped. Your genitalia was a lie this entire time! Your cock was going to turn into a fucking clit!!!

“(Name)? Your scent soured.”

Your body jumped as the door was harshly pushed up, a tense Riki standing in the doorway. His eyes roamed your body—looking for any damage before pausing at your face. He tilted his head, walking over to you as he began to sniff you.

“What? Did my mom tell you bad news?” He asked, his hand reaching up, as if to touch your face but he stopped himself and placed it on your desk. You couldn’t help the slight whimper at that.

“No… No bad news. Just that—well—I’ll be growing a vagina!”

“Huh? You already have one. I saw it when we were in the classroom.”

“Hah?! You saw it?!”

“Mhm. It’s so tiny, I was wondering why it looked like that but I’ve never been with a male omega before.” Riki said nonchalantly, his posture relaxing now that he realized there was nothing wrong. “You’ve never felt it?”

You blushed. “Well, I don’t really masturbate touching myself down there.. just my cock.”

Riki tilted his head as a smirk pulled on his lips. “Mhm? You’ll have to learn the other way soon, your little cock is turning into a clit.” He laughed.

The urge to punch him the face was strong. He felt just like the Riki you met at the sushi restaurant. It was going to take some getting used to with Riki’s personality. It was like he could switch between a sadist and timid puppy.

“Uhm. Your mom.. said that you could help.”

“Help? You want me to touch your pussy?”

Your cheeks flushed as you looked at everything but him. “Don’t call it that!”

“Why can’t I? Is it not a pussy?” Riki grinned as he moved closer, his nose teasing your neck as he leaned down. Your breathing hitched as you subconsciously tilted your head, giving him easy access to your scent gland. “I was sad that I’ll have to wait so long to properly fuck you…”

His hand grasped your crotch, earning a stuttered gasp from you as your body tensed. Your hand gripped the desk behind you for stability as he harshly fondled you. “But fingering you until you get a proper pussy sounds hot. I’ll be making a pussy just for me to touch. For me to fuck. For me to knot whenever I please.”

“Riki…” you gasped. The thought was already intoxicating. Any fear you had about this new body part growing was long gone at the thought of Riki truly molding you into something just for him. You were only disappointed that you’d have to wait so long to get what your body so desperately craves.

Only two month… You can last two months…

“Do you like that? The thought of your body changing itself just from my touch?” He whispered, his hand gripping your cock through your shorts. Your body arched against the desk as you feel your legs part to give Riki easier access.

“Nngh… That’ll… That’ll make me good for Alpha.” You manage to whine, looking up at him with watery eyes. Riki’s eyes widen before he chuckled, pressing a kiss on your neck.

“You’re already a good omega for me, (Name). But I won’t lie and say you getting a pretty pussy won’t make me happy. I can already imagine sinking my fingers inside, stretching you wide before I stuff you with my knot. Would you like that, Omega? My knot stretching you, ruining you for me and only me?”

A strangled cry left your throat as the thought clouded your mind and your hands gripped the desk, your toes curling. Your body felt as if it was spasming until you felt a growing wetness in your shorts.

Riki released your crotch as he glanced down, a laugh leaving his lips. “You came untouched. Did I excite you that much?”

“Shut up.” You weakly whine, wanting to curl up into a ball and die.

“Ahem.”

You and Riki’s body froze as there was a slight knock on the door. There stood Miya, her face unimpressed.

“We are still here, by the way. Maybe close the door if you’re going to start having sex.” She said, “Also there’s breakfast, (Name)… come get it after you take a shower… again.”

This was it. You were going to die of embarrassment.

Riki looked as if he’d seen a ghost. You could tell he must’ve realized his mother heard his dirty talking. Hopefully they didn’t hear everything…

“Uh… We can talk about the whole fingering thing later.” You whispered.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

In front of him, he stood tall, overpowering. His scent was musky—drowning out any other scent in the room. Brown eyes flickered around the living room before settling on a framed picture on the wall near the TV.

You, so young and cute, a wide smile while Miya hugged you tightly against her chest. It was an older picture, around the age of thirteen. Yuzuru was standing behind the both of you, aged eighteen, a small slight smile on his lips. His large circular glasses taking up half of his face.

Daichi looked over Yuzuru now, sitting on the couch across of him. Glasses long gone and smile replaced a tight frown. It was a shame, Daichi thought to himself. Yuzuru was supposedly an omega but looked nothing like it.

He took another look at Yuzuru, wondering how he gained so much weight. Yuzuru wasn’t the stick thin omega he was back in high school. He was fuller, his mother must be over feeding him.

Yuzuru kissed his teeth together, catching Daichi’s attention. “If you’re done scrutinizing me, why are you here?”

Mrs. Furukawa gently patted Yuzuru’s lap, giving him a tight smile. “What Yuzu was saying.. Is what made you want to visit us? It’s been forever.”

Daichi grinned, opening his coat and pulling out an envelope. “It’s nothing special.” He said. “Yuzuru is almost in his late twenties and my colleagues mentioned something about a blind date for omegas to find an alpha. I’m sure… it would be helpful for your case.”

A pin could be dropped as Yuzuru’s eyes widen, his lips parting as his fingers dug into the armchair of the couch. He looked ready to blow, jump across this stupid coffee table and show Daichi what he was made of. But his mother grabbed his arm as she grabbed the envelope from Daichi.

“Is that?” She asked, her voice devoid of any emotion.

“Ah. Yes… You have (Name)’s address, yes? I want to talk to him.”

“Why would I willingly give you his address?” Yuzuru muttered.

“Well… It’s been ages since I’ve seen my little brother.. I wanted to check up on him.”

“You can call him.” Yuzuru whispered.

Daichi hummed. “I guess I could. I suppose I wanted to get a better look at you, Yuzuru. Since you seem to be so interested in me these days.”

Yuzuru froze, looking away. He noticed? What the fuck?

With the tension tight and heavy, Daichi left without another word.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You were gently drying your hair when you grabbed your phone off the night stand. There was texts and emails that you didn’t care too much about responding to except one from a number you didn’t recognize.

It was just a picture that they sent.

You clicked on the picture and felt the color drain from your face.

It wasn’t just one picture. It was two.

One picture of an ultrasound.

And another of a wedding.

Daichi and a woman you’ve seen before.

But she was an omega… Why would someone like Daichi marry her?

But that wasn’t the most important thing you cared about. No, you cared more about who she was. Who she was before supposedly becoming Daichi’s wife, his mate.

Naoki’s ex girlfriend.

Sorry for the wait! I just recently moved to my college dorms, forgot to write lol. Hopefully it won’t take too long for chapter 3, there will be actual smut in that one, trust.. ask to be added to the tag list for riki’s story. Some people don’t show up when I try to tag them tho, sorry about that :/ also there’s a limit smh

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @tehyunnie @lanoslamp @sweetheart4you @chill-guy-but-cooler @ofclyde @remdayz @flurrina @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @kiiyoooo @love-kha1 @star-3214 @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @chososlittlestuttyboy @terapung @gay4letti @lixamplanet @oreoqueen @1account2blogs @hnazwan @blaxvoid @theorye @yanrandom @berrycolaa @darlinqvi @diamondnightsky23 @yourn0tmydad @https-tan-com @kiekole @cinder-angel @yuzuukix @sugar-p0p @anime-meme-sanctuary @caffineandoranges @barbatos-mybeloved @gaynesspersonified @sheepame @snowtiger00 @kgeyamaa @teoluvsyou @chweuphoria @sooobiinn @hope0o0 @yoon-zino @mef0rg0r @gojosdumpydump @me-when-life

Translations:

❝ お兄ちゃん、どうして私を守ってくれなかったの？ ❞ — brother, why didn’t you protect me?

❝ なぜですか？苦しいよ、直樹。❞ — why? It’s painful, Naoki

[sonyaheaneyauthor]

I've almost reached my breaking point with this genocide in Ukraine. I'm older than most Tumblr users, so I was being yelled at in university tutorials in the early 00s for talking about the Holodomor, and being told that "If it happened, Ukrainians deserved it for being Nazis".

I was out there in 2007 when we had the worldwide march for the Holodomor to be recognised as a genocide, only for so many countries (the USA being one of them) to tell us that they won't do it because it might upset russia.

I remember when russia invaded in 2014 and Obama said it wasn't his business, and that russia can decide what happens in Ukraine. And then he sent Ukraine fucking helmets and "hygiene kits" instead of the military aid he was supposed to.

My family in Donetsk walked out of their homes with their lives packed in plastic shopping bags nearly eleven years ago. But people prefer to believe the russian lies that Donbas wants to be part of russia.

I remember sitting at home on the 17th of July 2014, hearing about russia shooting down MH17, and feeling my blood run cold because the initial reports said the aeroplane was full of Americans. Being so sure that the USA might finally live up to the Budapest Memorandum and get involved in the war.

Of course they didn't.

And then the Malaysians went and protested at the Ukrainian embassy, as if they were to blame for being invaded by their genocidal neighbour.

I remember being at a protest at the russian embassy in Canberra just after Crimea was annexed, and the only people who turned up for us were other Ukrainians. Soon after there were massive protests for Palestine and BLM from Melbourne to Dublin and beyond. Ukrainians are too white for leftists and too foreign for right-wingers to care about.

More people dumped buckets of ice on their heads than supported us.

I spent Easter 2016 in a hotel in Ukraine. 8.5 years ago I was the only guest who wasn't a soldier on leave from the war.

Now I go on reddit and see that Americans are discussing how Ukraine "has a neo-fascist problem". Um, you guys just voted for Donald fucking Trump?

Then I see an Australian journalist say that the US election result means that America is "becoming like Eastern Europe". No. Eastern Europeans aren't Nazis. They suffered more under the Nazis than anyone.

We're always on our own. Millions upon millions of Ukrainians have been killed in the last ninety years, millions more sold into slavery in Germany (including my grandparents), hundreds of thousands sent to gulags (including the entire population of my grandmother's village), and hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of thousands dead or missing now, but we're still not seen as worthy of caring about.

I have family members whose dead bodies have been lying on battlefields for over a year. One killed in Bakhmut, a city that no longer exists. Another taken hostage from Mariupol, a city russia bombed to the ground. The mass graves there can be seen from space.

We can't get the bodies back because russia has colonised the area. I have a relative who was moved on from fighting in Vovchansk because there was no point fighting for another city that no longer exists. My relative who was taken hostage in Mariupol was starved and tortured for 2.5 years.

And then last week our city's magazine had a three-page interview with the russian ambassador, explaining why his country "has" to commit genocide in Ukraine. The editor laughed at my aunt when she phoned to register a complaint.

But teenaged tankies on sites like this will mock Ukrainians' deaths, stick a fucking hammer and sickle in their profile, and lecture people like me about things they know nothing about.

The world needs to end its ridiculous love affair with the russian federation.

[thebiggerbear]

when were you going to tell me

Summary: After finding out you concealed something from him on a hunt, Dean is not happy with you and he definitely does not appreciate your attempts at humor on the subject.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Hunter!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting. Just dipping back into the writing pool from time to time, one toe each round. This is what popped into my head when I read the prompt. All unbeta'd.

Prompt Line: "When were you going to tell me that you have a hole in your body?"

Warnings: language; mentioned gun violence/injury; implied sex; implications; Reader (really me) being a perv

Word Count: 1787

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel; @hobby27; @impala67rollingthroughtown; @ladysparkles78

Dean Winchester Taglist: @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @mariahoedt

@solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444; @globetrotter28

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx; @lyarr24; @rebel-paladin; @deans-spinster-witch

@bts24; @roseblue373; @nancymcl; @c1gs-coffee; @peachhiz

@kickingitwithkirk; @fanfic-n-tabulous; @illicithallways; @mentallyillandgae; @ladykitana90

@roseblue373; @radioactivatedspider

Supernaural Taglist: @just-levyy

You can also read on AO3

Dean was super pissed at you. No, not pissed — pissed.

“When were you going to tell me that you have a hole in your body?” He snapped.

You attempted to give him a smile from your seat on the edge of the bed. “Uh, the third date?”

His jaw tightened and his glare immediately transferred from you to his younger brother who had snorted in amusement and was currently attempting to smother a grin. “Don’t encourage her.” Sam threw his hands up in placation but you snickered.

“At least Samsquatch thinks I’m funny.” You winced and sucked in air through your teeth as you tried to peel the right arm of your jacket off. Dean was suddenly there, taking over and gently moving the material away from your wound. “Serves you right,” he muttered. As he studied the bullet you’d taken on the hunt you all just returned from, you studied him — marveling at him in fact. Fury emanated off of him in waves and yet his touch was as gentle as could be. His expression was severe and yet his eyes had a softened edge to them as he tended to you. 

“Sammy, get the med kit out of my bag and bring it over here,” he ordered before briefly turning a fresh glare on you.

You let out a small sigh. “Dean, I get that you’re mad but how was I to know one of them was armed? I mean, what kind of a werewolf carries a gun anyway? Bitch move, if you ask me.”

“The kind that wants to get away at any cost. You’re lucky they only popped you in the shoulder. Now maybe next time you’ll actually listen to me and stay close.” He angrily snatched the proffered gauze from Sam’s hand, refusing to look up at you as he opened the package. “You should have told me.” 

Concern laced his harsh tone and had you wishing you could put both arms around him to pull him close. Instead, you pressed your lips together; you knew he was right. You should have let him and Sam know you had been shot the moment you regrouped where the Impala was parked but considering the alpha had gotten away in the melee, you all were desperate to get out of there and hunt him down. One dead alpha later thanks to Dean’s silver bullets, you still hadn’t told either Winchester and you gritted your teeth at the pain. You were being stupid, you knew you were being stupid, but you just couldn’t push yourself to admit that Dean had been right and you had been wrong. You had butted heads before; you could take care of yourself and Dean wanted you to use the safety of numbers. Needless to say when you were finally forced to admit what happened once you all got back to the motel thanks to Sam accidentally knocking into you forcing you to let out a loud curse, Dean had been harsh and unforgiving, always being a few words away from ‘I told you so’. And while you hated it, you knew you deserved the ass-chewing you were getting. But you would take everything he had to throw at you and more if it meant you wouldn’t have to see the look on his face that you were seeing right now. You’d scared him, terrified him even, and he hadn’t known in the moment that he’d been a heartbeat away from losing you. A fact that was then reiterated by him gruffing out, “If his aim had been a few centimeters to the right…”

You could feel a lump forming in your throat at the pain now clouding his gaze as he pressed the gauze to your wound. You snuck a look over at Sam who gave you an understanding nod, grabbed the ice bucket, and left the room without a word.

You gently covered Dean’s hands with your left one, urging him to look at you. It took him a moment but he reluctantly lifted his eyes to meet yours. Even more pain swirled in those green depths and it broke your heart. “I’m so sorry, Dean,” you whispered. “I should have told you. And I will never go off on my own again or scare you like that. I promise.”

He watched you for a moment and when he determined you meant what you were telling him, he capitulated with a nod and went back to focusing on your wound. You moved your hand to one of his wrists and briefly squeezed before letting him go.

After a minute, you decided to lighten things up a little while you still could. He was going to have to dig the bullet out since it didn’t go through. As much pain as you’d been in for the past two hours, you were bound to be in a hell of a lot more in the next few minutes so you only had a short window. You got a good look at the wound when he pulled the bloody gauze away and gave it an approving nod. “So, whaddya say after you fix this hole, I can show you what other holes I have that might need tending to, hmm?” His gaze snapped to you and you gave him your best seductive smirk, arching an eyebrow in meaning.

As expected, Dean rolled his eyes and he thrust a half-finished bottle of whiskey at you. “I never thought I’d say this to a girl but you are banned from referring to your…other holes like that. For forever. Especially in front of Sam.”

“Oh come on, you know you love it when I do,” you teased, taking a swig of the amber liquid.

“I know I love you,” he suddenly replied, his tone serious yet ever so quiet, and his focus now on the kit in front of him.

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. In all of the time you’d been doing the no pants dance on a semi-regular basis, not once had Dean uttered the L-word. Sure, you knew how much he loved your ass and how his hands seemed to be super-glued to the area whenever Sam wasn’t looking, how much he loved it when when you did that thing with your tongue and throat at the same time that made him bite into the side of his fist to keep quiet, and how much he loved when you fucked him. But never had he ever in all of this time told you that he loved you.   

He hesitantly met your gaze and when he saw your smile, he seemed to relax slightly and clear his throat. “You should drink a little more of that before I start digging the bullet out.”

When he took the bottle from you, you used your free hand to gently tug on his flannel. “Me too, you know.” When he glanced over at you, you whispered, “I love you, too.”

His features softened a little in surprise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He fought to keep a smile off of his handsome face and seemed determined to remember he was still mad at you, but the light in his eyes remained. “Okay.” A simple okay — as if okay, that’s decided and that’s it. Very simple and matter of fact. When your grin grew, he shyly looked away before snapping back into focus, intent on switching into a medic role. “This is going to hurt.” His expression was then completely apologetic.

“I know. It’s okay,” you reassured him. “Not my first gunshot wound.” At the furrowing of his brows and his eyes roaming all over you, you dug your fingers into his jeans to distract him and gave him a nod. You could tell him all about that later; besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen the scar on your leg at some point.

The distraction having succeeded, Dean let it go for now and poured the whiskey on the open wound. You nearly screamed from the pain, tightening your grip on him.

His lips were immediately lingering against the skin of your forehead. “I’m sorry, baby,” you thought you heard him murmur to you but you were in so much agony you couldn’t be sure. When the sting began to fade into the steady throb you had grown used to, you heard him tease, “So, third date, huh?”

You gave a tiny shrug of your one good shoulder, wincing. “Date, hunt, whatever.” Sam and the world didn’t need to know exactly when you and Dean had made the beast with two backs. Third, first — it was all the same to you.

You’d known Sam and Dean back in the day and when you found yourselves accidentally on the same hunt years later, Dean may have given you a second look which you more than eagerly returned (you’d had a crush on him for years when you were younger) and when you used his last-night-on-Earth line on him at a local dive bar later on… You bit your bottom lip to keep at bay the memories of the creaking of the Impala, your moans from his lips trailing everywhere, and his deep groans of “Fuck” in your ear as he tightly held onto you from that night. Damn, if you weren’t shot right now, you might ask him to recreate that particularly explosive night, especially since you both were sharing a room with Sam on this trip. Perhaps once Dean was through and you were all bandaged up, you could convince him to go for a drive so you could show him just what your good arm could still do. Sure, you were a natural righty, but you could get creative. Not to mention you were shot in the shoulder, not your lower half, and it certainly wouldn’t keep your jaw from working.

Dean chuckled, pulling you from your dirty thoughts about said man who tenderly kissed your hairline before searching for the forceps in his kit. “Right.” He poured some alcohol over the tool and gave you one more kiss before focusing on your shoulder. “You ready?”

“One sec.” You grunted as you lifted up slightly to plant a kiss to his stubbled jaw. He turned to look at you and you shot him a smirk. “Hurry the fuck up, Winchester, and get to work getting this bullet out of me so we can go for a drive and I can show you how ambidextrous I can be.”

You watched his throat bob up and down as he swallowed and then a smirk crawled onto his face to mirror yours, his eyes darkening to an all-too familiar shade. “Yes, ma’am.”

And he got straight to work.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

banner by @cafekitsune

[p0orbaby]

Life Was So Simple Then

summary: you and leah embark on a trip through Europe in an effort to save your marriage

warnings: a smidge of angst but you’ll live

a/n: i may or may not be considering making this a series…

word count: 1.4k

-

The train moves at a comfortable hum, soothing in its way, while London shrinks behind you in pieces, in windows, in corners. The world outside your window looks surreal, vaguely greenish, fragmented by flashes of trees and brick houses. There’s something almost too quiet about it, an uneasy softness to the edges of this journey that is meant to patch you both back together.

You’ve been married for—what is it?—six years now. But you were Leah’s shadow long before that. You’ve been her plus-one, her background feature, her silent assistant in uncountable ways that now feel petty to list. The bitter edge surprises you as it rears up unbidden. You take a breath and decide you’ll name these feelings, as if naming things might tame them. Resentment. Grief. Stubborn hope. You and Leah have been through worse. But also… maybe not.

You glance at her. She’s examining her nails, mouth set into that default neutrality she pulls out when she’s feeling strange or anxious or tired. It’s her ready face, the one she’s kept in her kit since she was just a gangly teenager at Arsenal, desperate to be taken seriously, to get noticed for more than her posture and a fast left foot. You remember those early days. You remember being eighteen, in the stands, showing up for her even when you barely knew her. When all she had to offer was coffee in half-cleaned thermoses and lectures about work-life balance that were one part playful, two parts scolding, and strangely magnetic.

When you finally pulled her into that first kiss, it was a Thursday. You remember that because she had a match the next day. She’d stood there with her mouth half-open, one eyebrow raised, until she laughed that strange, short laugh, pulling you in by your wrist, the way she always did when she was uncertain about something but willing to give it a go. Afterward, you’d watched her lace up her shoes, this careful process that she performed like ritual. The order mattered: left, then right, then another knot. The same attention she brings to everything—coffee, calls, stretching, the single glass of wine she never finishes at dinner because it’s “almost too nice to ruin.”

Back then, she’d just been Leah. But then she’d become Leah Williamson, and you, married to her, got folded into the package. You’d get, “oh, that’s Leah’s wife!” from strangers at the shops, from mothers of kids at school fundraisers, from friends of friends who never bothered with your name. You hadn’t known how strange that would feel until it did, like there was this parallel version of yourself, waiting in the wings, and now this strange person had overtaken you. You’re still working on making peace with that, though there’s little peace about it.

Leah raises an eyebrow as if reading your mind, which is a trick she’s only gotten better at. “You’re very quiet. Am I allowed to ask if something’s wrong?”

“You could,” you say, but it sounds a little brittle, so you reach for her hand, entwining your fingers, hoping the gesture makes up for it. She doesn’t flinch, which is a start. You’re not entirely sure where you left off, after the months of silent dinners, of days bookended by her rising before dawn for physio appointments and crashing in bed long after you’d fallen asleep. Now, as her fingers brush your knuckles, you can almost feel that old connection, an unexpected sliver of warmth threading through the silence.

“Fine, be cryptic.” Her mouth quirks in a half-smile, the kind that used to come so naturally but has felt harder and harder to coax out. She lets go of your hand and turns back to her phone, skimming news alerts and whatever else she’s curated into a daily distraction routine. That’s new, too, the constant scrolling. It used to be just the morning Guardian and the Arsenal forums, but now she reads everything as if she’s half-waiting for some seismic news, some validation that she made the right decision. Retirement. The word feels abrupt, like something has been shaved off the ends. The other day she’d admitted to reading the tabloids. Just the sports ones, she’d said, in that overly casual voice she uses when she’s trying not to sound defensive.

“Did you pack the sandwiches?” Leah’s voice drifts up, and it takes you a second to process that she’s talking to you.

“Yes, your honour.” The words slip out like they used to, like you’re just starting out, laughing over drinks after midnight. You see her relax a little, a sign she’s actually been worrying about the sandwiches, and you realise she’s probably equally terrified that she’ll spend the entire trip thinking about where she’d rather be. The knowledge of her own shifting nature used to thrill her; she’d tell you she was “made of kinetic energy,” that she couldn’t ever be truly still. Now, it seems to disturb her.

“Well, just checking.” She doesn’t ask you to get them, and you don’t offer. You suspect there’s a silent mutual agreement that eating will come later, a familiar tactic she’s deployed whenever nerves or a big match made her too jittery to eat. You’ve read about married people developing shared instincts, unconscious patterns. But this knowledge, like all the habits you’ve developed over time, somehow doesn’t offer the comfort you’d expected. It’s like putting on a jacket that’s become a touch too tight, and you find yourself oddly self-conscious.

As you both sit in this semi-awkward silence, you try to remember the last time you truly sat together like this, uninterrupted. The thing is, you can’t. Even on the few weekends she’d been around the last season, it had always been meals with other players, birthday parties with people you barely knew, her agent dropping by with a sheaf of papers and a grin that you’ve come to resent, though you never say so. Leah had been “there” in a vague sense, the way a familiar armchair is there: functional, comfortable, reliable in theory. But Leah herself? The woman you fell in love with—that particular version of her seemed more and more like a house you once lived in but that someone else owns now.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks finally, in that deceptively soft tone that makes you feel like you’re on trial. She’s always done that, approached difficult conversations like they’re penalty shots. Direct, unflinching, too close to your heart.

“You, mostly.” The honesty slips out before you can stop it. “Us, I mean”

She lets out a soft sigh, nodding as if she understands something specific, though you suspect she doesn’t. Her understanding has become like that of someone who’s learned a language only halfway. There’s the ability to navigate, but no intuition, no rhythm.

“Does it feel strange to be doing this?” she asks. “Like, taking this whole trip to—what’s the word?—to reset?”

You nod, though it’s more than strange; it’s surreal. You’re on a mission to resurrect a version of each other that you barely recognise anymore. The stakes are uncomfortably high, like someone’s dared you both to restore something irrevocably broken.

“You know,” she says, “I used to imagine us doing something like this. But I thought we’d be sixty or something, grandkids on the way, planning things for fun, not… whatever this is.” She looks down, expression somewhere between regret and wonder.

“Yeah. Me too.” You allow yourself a small laugh. “I thought we’d be the kind of couple who’d stay on for tea in strange little pubs and get lost in French villages and drink wine in the countryside”

She snorts, “I’m not sure if I’d drink the tea. Have you seen the quality of some of the pubs out there?” The joke feels just shy of funny, but you force a laugh, hoping she doesn’t notice the effort.

“But you’re right,” she says, finally. “I thought the same. That’s the dream, right? And I don’t know…” She trails off, staring out the window, at the blur of countryside, the unremarkable patches of brown and green that scroll by. “I don’t know if I even know what I wanted anymore. Or what I still want”

The words hang heavy, a confession too thick for this tight, narrow train car. It’s too early in the journey to delve into it fully, too fragile a moment for honesty of this weight. You reach for her hand again, a steadying anchor. Her grip is warm, though her fingers feel a little too light, as if she’s not fully committed to the touch, a detail that pierces your heart like a needle.

“Then maybe…” you start, pausing, wondering if the words are too simple for what needs to be said. “Maybe that’s what we’re here to find out”

[changetyre]

Not like this II Charles Leclerc x Reader (Mafia AU)

SUMMARY: After losing everything you seek out your biggest and longest-standing enemy to finish it all.

WARNING: Violence, blood, mentions of death

A/N: I've always wanted to write a Mafia imagine and I've had this idea in the drafts for like 2 years now and finally decided to write it out so here it is ;)

Thud.

Charles's eyes snapped open at the loud noise originating from his living room. His hand immediately clasped the gun that rested under his pillow as he listened out for anything else.

The shuffling that followed was enough to have him getting out of bed silently as he made his way around his bedroom.

He could hear someone grunting. He opened his door, darkness enveloped the living room the only light being from the large windows which surrounded it.

"For fuck's sake." He heard someone whisper and he thought he recognized the voice but it simply couldn't be right?

He walked further into the living room, seeing someone's feet disappear behind the coffee table. He silently took more steps toward whoever was there.

"Before you kill me could you at least get me a drink? Anything with Whiskey will do." Charles heard as you spoke breathless from your spot on the floor.

He finally closed the distance standing by your feet in fact confirming it was you. His gun still pointed right at your head.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Charles asked annoyed.

"Ugh." you sighed. "Long story but your guards are really sh*t you know, killed them both in no time." You laughed, being stopped by a painful grunt.

Charles turned on the lamp on the table by the end of the couch providing enough light for him to see the trail of blood you'd left along with the pool of blood forming on his white carpet.

"You're ruining my carpet." Charles scoffed putting his gun away.

"Least I could do before letting you kill me." You shrugged, your breathing only getting heavier.

"What do you mean letting me kill you?" Charles asked as he moved away and around his apartment. You weren't able to see what he was doing from your spot on the floor where you'd decided to rest.

"We got attacked...idk who they are but- Fuck-" You grunted in pain again after moving slightly. "They are powerful Charles, they killed us ...every single one of us."

"Not you." Charles spoke from afar.

"Basically did." You laughed which you soon regretted with the pain it brought you. The gunshot to your stomach kept spurting blood despite you pressing hard on it.

"So why did you come here apart from dirtying my place?" Charles asked again, you could hear him opening and closing cupboards.

"Well you know...figured this ongoing battle we had going on, to see who would kill who first...Well, I'm gonna die anyway so I might as well let you win." You shuffled so your back rested on the couch and you could sit up slightly not caring one bit about covering the white couch with your blood.

Charles came back into view holding a bottle of whiskey, along with tongs, bandages, and a suture kit.

"Not my fucking couch!" Charles yelled annoyed.

"What's that for?" You asked but Charles didn't bother answering before he ripped your shirt from the side effortlessly allowing him to see your wound.

"Won't even invite me a drink first?" You joked, but your humor was short-lived as Charles pushed your hand away pouring the liquid over it.

"FU-" your voice was muffled as Charles put a rag on your mouth letting you bite down on it.

Charles didn't waste time as he disinfected the tools before sticking them in your wound looking for the bullet.

You writhed around in pain and despite this not being the first bullet you've taken somehow this one felt more painful.

"Stay Still." Charles demanded making you roll your eyes at him.

After what felt like forever he finally took the bullet out showing it to you before throwing it on the already bloodied carpet.

"I hate you." You spit the ragout and panted as you tried to steady your breath.

"Shut up." Charles's focus stayed on your body as he began sowing your wound shut.

"Why are you even doing this?" You asked.

Charles didn't answer you and you wondered what he was thinking about.

"Shit-" You hissed at the pain from the needle and thread going through you.

"Done." he avoided your eyes as he got up gathering everything up with him and moving away again.

"Charles-" you called out.

You still didn't have the strength to get up and go after him but a few seconds later Charles came back with water and a pill.

"Take this." He placed them both on the table in front of you before turning to walk away again.

"Charles answer me." You said more firmly this time.

He stopped in his tracks before turning around to face you. "If I'm gonna kill you...it'll be after a fair fight." He answered.

"Charles I have nothing left." You said, this time not caring how weak your voice sounded or the way your eyes watered in front of him. "Didn't you hear me? They killed all of my people." it pained you, truly did to think of all of the loyal men and women that were gone in a single night. "They think I'm dead too so just finish the job...please" you begged, something you'd never done before.

Charles didn't speak for a few seconds, avoiding your eyes again. "Drink that. I'll get the guest room ready since I can't ask my men to do it."

[thoughtsforsoob]

when you’re sick - txt

A/n: I didn’t get sick during this break and thats not good because I’m gonna end up getting sick at school :p I hate being sick at school because I have to take care of myself and try to avoid getting my roomie sick :((( poor roomie. Anyways, please enjoy this! If you’re sick right now, please drink lots of warm tea, water and make sure to eat enough okay? Requests are always open!

Yeonjun

clingy clingy clingy

he's such a sweetheart

he's also one who will baby you 100%

"aww, my baby is sickie hmmm?" in the sweetest voice ever

he makes sure you stay in bed and scolds you if you try to get up and do anything

omg don't even try doing chores, he's gonna kick your ass

he drags you right back to bed, tucks you in as tight as a burrito and turns on the tv so you won't leave again

he makes sure everything is taken care of before he gets to work! he doesn't want his girl to worry.

Soobin

this big guy

he snuggles up to you and refuses to leave your side

he's your own personal heater and he helps you stay warm

when you try to make him leave so he doesn't get sick, he pouts and does his best aegyo (he want's to die deep inside when he does the aegyo but if it means you'll listen to him, he'll do it 100 times)

you finally give in and he holds you tight

he orders your favorite food for you so neither of you have to worry about cooking and orders you your favorite drink

Beomgyu

clingy part2 + annoying (in the most endearing way possible)

he is so sweet through and he means well

he will make sure you're tucked into bed and he will do his best to entertain you

literally stands in front of you and puts on a show, dancing and singing for you and being silly to make you laugh and forget how much it hurts being sick

he also loves to make fun on you and then snuggle you right after

"ew! you're gonna spread your disease to me! oh baby...no! im just kidding! come here!"

Taehyun

he doesn't want to get sick so he tries to keep his distance from you

when you tell him you're sick, he immediately starts to gather things you might need

this sweetheart will get you some presents to in order to keep you busy and happy

homebody shows up with a new Nintendo switch, AirPods, etc...

all casually he's like, "here baby, have fun. I know I can't keep you much company but I wanted to help at least"

you're crying because he's so kind and he take this chances and hugs you, giving you only 1 kiss...

eventually caves and gives you more kisses

Huening Kai

This boy is an absolute angel

when you swat him away to not get him sick also, he whines and gets even closer to you

he knows you really want him to be around

aka: he asked his sisters what he should do and they help him make you a little get well kit

it has homemade soup, sweets (chocolate), yummy drinks/tea bags, and a cute new mug for your drink!

he brings it to you and serves you soup in a cute bowl and makes you tea for you!

he just wants to be close and take care of you!

ps: he brings you a plushie from his collection to keep you company when he can't be with you

[hypnos333]

More than Anything

Lucifer x Adapted daughter! Reader

Synopsis: You were just a baby with weird shapes on your cheek and having no one Lucifer took you in while depressed until it got really bad so Charlie and Vaggie started taking care of you

You played with your dolls as Charlie was playing with you. It’s been 1 years since the last time you saw your dad and yet you don’t know him. When you were first taken away you couldn’t eat anything at all until Charlie started to actually pay attention to you to the point where she knows every detail.

Charlie was happy to take you in as a sister but was disappointed at her dad for leaving such a young now two year old without a parental guidance. Charlie had her mom but who do you have?

She watched you sucking on you pacifier while characterizing the doll with innocence. It was no surprise that you were a hellborn because your cheeks gave it away. No human has the power that you have.

“Come little baby let go get you a warm bottle of milk and some lunch” Charlie exclaimed before picking you up as you clinged to her.

For a two year old you so small and adorable.

When Charlie reach the kitchen Husk was already in there grabbing an apple sauce before putting it in front of you. “Do you want me to feed her Charlie?” Husk mumbles as he gets a baby spoon to feed you in.

“Oh! Thank you Husk this helps so I can make her mil-“I always made her milk it’s in the microwave” Husk interrupt her that’s when the Microwave made a sound meaning it was done.

Husk airplane feed you the apple sauce as you played with his paws, he didn’t mind because he grown attached to you.

“Husk do you mind watching ___? I have to do business around the hotel” Charlie asked making Husk instantly agree. “Yeah I can definitely watch this kit” Husk said making Charlie tell him your schedule before kissing your forehead on the way out.

“Well it’s just you and me munchkin” He mumbles as you were sucking your bottle with the milk in it. He gently lift you up carrying you to the lobby.

He laid you down the couch, on your back as you continued to drinking the warm milk. As you fell asleep drinking the bottle. As you did Husk brought up a pacifier to your lips and automatically sucked on the pacifier.

Husk chuckles before making a pile of blankets so you don’t roll over and fall on the couch.

Hours later

Lucifer came in when Charlie called him, And when Lucifer saw his sleeping child being carried by Angel dust as rocked side by side so you can stay sleeping.

“C-Can I hold her?” He asked Charlie making her nod as she smiled uncontrollably. Angel dust gently put you in Lucifer’s arms making you squirm and slowly open your eyes.

“Hi Baby Angel, I’m your papa” Lucifer said gently and he rubbed your back. You looked at him tiredly and curiosity.

“Papa?” You mumbled

“Yeah I’m your papa” Lucifer chuckled with tears in his eyes as he put his forehead against yours as you giggle putting your hands on his cheeks as he does this. He can’t believe how much you grown as he cried in Joy finally getting to raise you properly Lucifer pulled charlie into a hug with you and him.

“I love you both more than anything” He whispered to you both.

[xoxo-sarah]

Reckless

↝a/n: reader is indeed a badass in this. A dumb one- but a badass nonetheless.

↝pairing:Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

↝warning: death, murder, weird guys, set after Negan shows up, Alexandria, fear of losing a loved one (Daryl and reader, separately),, reader endangers herself, pigs (men),cursing, slightly proofread, idk it's kinda graphic ngl, reader is kinda crazy but who isn't in twd universe?

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 8.16.24

Note: Kate is reader's friend

“You ain't goin' out there.” Daryl said nonchalantly, bringing the lighter up to light the cigarette hanging between his cracked lips.

Taken aback, you could only stare at him. Watching as he leaned against the porch railing, looking at you with a calm look in his eye.

It's almost like he believed you wouldn't walk outside the gate of Alexandria. Like you would listen to him. You weren't about to argue about what you can and can't do, especially when a man is on the other side.

Huffing, you stomped past him, back into the house.

After Daryl finished the cigarette, he stood to his full height, turning to open the door. He grunted when the door wouldn't open.

“Seriously?”

You heard him on the other side, but didn't care. Kate was out there. Who was Daryl to tell you to stay in the safe zone, to not look for someone who would be out in the woods looking for you the second they heard you were missing? You knew it was dangerous, but that was the chance you were willing to take for a friend.

“Open the door.” Hiding the last bit of supplies, you twisted the lock, letting him open the door. Ignoring the glare he was sending you, you made your way to the bedroom, exiting with a blanket and pillow. “Are ya kiddin'? What, 'm I in the doghouse?”

“No,” you scoffed, throwing the blanket on the couch, and began to make it comfortable. “I'm not sleeping in the same bed as someone who thinks I can't take care of myself.”

“I didn't say that.”

“You implied it.” With that, you finally looked him in the eye, daring him to say another word.

Huffing, he made his way to the bedroom, slamming the door.

You stood in the darkness for a moment, thinking everything through, whilst also listening as he walked around the room, before the mattress springs creaked, letting you know he flopped on the bed. You give it 20-30 minutes before he gets up and tries to apologize, like he always did. You'd turn him down, of course, and he'd finally leave you alone for the night. Then you'd make your run for it.

Sticks and leaves crunched under your feet, the quiet of the night having the hair on your arms stand straight up. Light illuminated ahead of you, the flashlight held tightly in your grip, knife in the other hand. The backpack you were quick to pack only had a few things, but they were important. A pistol you stored with you at all times sat on your belt (only for emergencies), small first aid kit–in the hindsight you do find Kate– but she's hurt, a can of whatever was out on the kitchen counter that you didn't get the time to actually look at-it was probably a can of peaches or something-, water, and the thin blanket you kept sprawled across the back of the couch.

Hearing voices from the distance, you quickly cut your light, catching the smell of a fire, along with the sound of the crackle of wood and drunken laughter. You took your chance with your surroundings, putting your trust in what was blindly in front of you.

You managed to sneak closer, now being able to see the group from between the trees. They sat around the fire, cackling about God knows what, blood and grime coating their skin in a thick layer. They passed a bottle around the circle, taking a big swig to numb their reality. Looking around them, they set up an alarm type thing with empty cans connected to wire and string, something your group has done many times, especially when you were without a stable housing system.

Stained tents were close together, nearly side by side with how small the alarm system was. “She's a beauty.” One man snarled, standing to wobble toward one tent, unzipping it, bending over, and reaching into it.

He struggled for a minute, nearly losing his footing, before he straightened up, dragging the body over to the other guys. They whooped and hollered, passing the bottle around again.

The guy who pulled Kate out of the tent started playing with her matted hair, a nasty grin on his face. Your nails dug into your hand. There were 4 of them, all of which had an advantage for having Kate. Even if you were to attack them, they would probably kill her without a second thought.

She snarled, pulling at the rope that bound her hands behind her back. “Ain't she?” He bent down, closer to her ear. She pulled a disgusted face.

One guy cackled, loving her reactions for a sickly reason.

The handle of the knife nearly left a permanent indention on your palm, the skin beginning to sting.

Maybe if you brought something like a bow you could catch them off guard. But you didn't, alright?

You have a knife and a pistol.

“I think it's time to turn in, fellas.” Another guy stood, stretching his long, skinny limbs. The other guys mumbled an agreement, beginning to retreat.

Kate was dragged toward the fire by the original guy, “can't let you out of my sight, can I, pretty girl?”

Kate uttered a 'fuck you'.

The guy stood back from snuffing the fire pit with dirt, moving to lean over her. His hand caressed her cheek, dirt smearing. “ You have a mouth on ya, doncha?"

The knife slid across his throat in one quick motion, a garbled sound was put to an end as the knife punctured his skull quickly after. You laid his body down gently, glancing at the tents as you moved to Kate.

She silently watched you with wide eyes. To her, you just appeared out of the darkness, leaping over the wire and taking her and the guy by surprise. If anything, she didn't recognize you at first. You looked scary, crazed, even. Your eyes held a fiery she'd only seen a handful of times since the apocalypse started.

Finally untying her hands, where rope was tied in a tight knot, leaving her wrist red and raw, you heard rustling came from one of the tents, followed by, “I gotta take a leak.” Kate quickly scanned the dead body, taking the knife off his person.

You quietly blended in to the woods, running as fast as your limbs would let you. You could hear cursing from the tents. Far enough away, you slowed down, coming out of the woods. Kate heaved, rubbing at her wrist.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Rosita came back from the supply run, and she said you were taken.” The two of them had gone out early that morning, in search of something-anything to satisfy Negan.

“That was dangerous. Those were Negan's men.”

“They're disgusting.”

She couldn't disagree. You didn't see what they did before, or hear what they said. She was thankful for that. If she were to tell you, you'd turn around and go slaughter every one of them.

Coming to an abandoned, dead car, you settled in the driver's seat, helping her wrap her wrist and any small cuts she had on her body.

You offered her the can of peaches, opening it up with your knife for her. She took it, her stomach growling as soon as you uttered the word 'food'. She chugged the water. You watched.

You had known her before the apocalypse. She had it made, never having to starve or wait all day to eat, always having the comfortable bank account to just be able to buy whatever she was feeling at the moment. You had watched first hand as her life flipped upside down. Reckon she thought the same about you. Deep down, you knew she would've gone looking for you if the roles were reversed.

“They took everything we found, which wasn't much but still. I was going to drink that alcohol.” She broke the silence, slightly pouting her busted lip out. Your lip twitched, not quite finding the amusement in your body. “Surprised Daryl didn't come with you.”

“He didn't want me coming.” She nodded, understanding where he was coming from. “They were going to look for you in the morning, but a lot could happen between now and then. I couldn't risk it.”

“You're reckless.”

“You could've died,” you countered. Maybe you were reckless and stubborn, you didn't care at that moment.

The door suddenly swung open, a gun cocking as soon as the cold metal touched your temple. Kate yelped as she got dragged out, falling out on the broken asphalt. “You think you could do that shit and get away with it?” Alcohol wafted in your nostrils, hot breath fanning across your ear and neck. “Get out.” A harsh hand gripped your arm, pulling you out. He grabbed your knife, pocketing it before you had the time to use it. You could only see two out of the three surviving men from before. The other one was probably still at their camp, keeping an eye out.

The grip on your arm tightened.

Daryl stumbled out of the woods, hearing commotion on the old, worn down road. He saw the car, the men, your silhouette.

He saw the man in front of you, getting in your face. The darkness of the night didn't do anything to show your facial expression. But Daryl knew you, knew how you were holding your ground.

He loaded his bow, watching as a punch landed to your left cheek.

You fell to the floor, quickly shuffling closer to the car. You grabbed the jagged metal of the old can of peaches you had mindlessly discarded, swinging around and dragging it across his face, nicking your palm in the process, but you didn't care.

Daryl jogged closer, arrow ready to shoot, now aimed at the man holding Kate.

Before he could release the arrow, you grabbed the gun that was recently pointed at your head, swirling around to shoot the other guy right in the face, despite his scared protest, before aiming it at the man holding his face at your feet, cursing you, belittling you.

Daryl stood, stunned.

In the span of a minute and a half, you had killed two men without flinching.

—

The door to your bedroom creaked, Daryl stumbled out of it. He stood behind the couch, shirtless, his pants hanging low on his hips. His face was set in a scowl, his distaste about having to apologize evident on his face. “Ya know you're a badass. Ain't no secret. Didn't mean it like that, ya know that.” You grunted, giving him a taste of his own medicine. You were turned away from him, laid out across the couch as you glared at the wall through the darkness. The backpack laid under the couch, everything ready.

“Say somethin'.”

You turned on your back, looking up at him. You knew he was leaned across the back of the furniture, searching for your face in the darkness, you did the same. “Fine.” Your words held no truth to them, only evident annoyance.

He sighed, straightening his back. “It's dang-”

“It's dangerous, yeah, I know. Which is exactly why we need to look for her. There's no telling what has already happened to her, especially with Negan's men out there.”

“A group is goin' in the mornin'. First thing.”

You stayed silent. At least they were trying, and being smart about it. But you weren't using your brain, only your heart. She means too much to you to lose her. She's all you have left of the normal life, before all this.

“You gonna come to bed?”

Maybe you were being unreasonable.

“No.”

Daryl shuffled back to the bedroom, letting the door shut harshly behind him.

Three minutes later, you were quietly opening the back door and wiggling out. You blended into the night, walking around Alexandria without anyone noticing. You ran by the people on watch, making your escape. You ventured into the woods, Daryl's words in your head. You were a badass. Maybe not a smart one when it comes down to being rational, but a badass nonetheless.

Daryl shuffled out of bed, his throat feeling dry. His feet patted against the cold floor, hand coming up to rub at his eyes.

He stopped when he caught sight of the couch. You were probably asleep. Anger wore you out easily, he had noted very early on.

“Look, I know you're pissed at me, but I'm just tryin' to keep ya safe. I can't lose ya.”

The vulnerability was evident in his voice. Usually, you would comfort him, knowing he doesn't show his emotional state to just anyone.

It was true, he couldn't lose you. He fears he might actually go insane without you.

Ever since you two moved into the house of Alexandria, a fire burned in Daryl.

A fire that told him he could lose you at any moment, but also told him that he had to make it where he couldn't lose you. To try everything to keep you safe.

Negan was out there, in the shadows, waiting. He was waiting for one little slip up. He wasn't one to be merciful. Yet another threat on your head.

Daryl leaned forward, bringing his hand to find your body warmth, something to soothe him before he spirals. “Honey?”

He was met with cold silence.

—

“Well shit.”

You swirled around, gun aimed to kill. Daryl dropped his arm that held the bow, raising his other in surrender. A grin tugged at his lips, pure pride at seeing you take care of yourself like that.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[impishjesters]

jax with a fem! rabbit reader pregnant of his litter of 6 bunnies (3 boys and 3 girls) and everything went well with y/n and the lil bunnies who are at the moment blind, hairless and deaf...

warning(s): it's honestly just some soft new dad Jax note(s): Since they aren't actual bunnies I didn't really include the blind and deaf part, but they are very much hairless. They are baby-sized though, I blame a fanart I saw once with Jax and his lil mini-copy babies and had to draw inspo from it. Also not mentioned but Jax was just being a lil shit, some of the kits do take after you. A/N: You can't tell me Jax (even as a joke) wouldn't try and name his kids after himself in some horrible manner.

Exhaustion still rang high even after a quick nap, popping out six babies would do that to you you suppose. You’d caught a decent glimpse at all the kits when they were cleaned up but once everything was done and clean and you were taken care of, you conked right out.

You woke to hushed whispers and a few cries, no doubt one of the kits being fussy. If anything you are amazed Jax has kept them so quiet—that or you were in a deep sleep. Probably the latter.

“Who’s being fussy?”

Jax mumbled a silent ‘fuck’, he didn’t mean to wake you, even if it wasn’t directly him who woke you. “I got ‘em, babe, you just rest.” He scooped up the fussy kit in question, giving them a gentle rock to try and soothe them.

“They’re probably hungry..” You moved to sit up and Jax rushed over to shove pillows behind you. “Hand ‘em over…”

He hesitated, so far it was just the one, but if they kept crying it was only a matter of time before the others did too. Jax carefully handed the kit over and simply watched you begin to breastfeed like it was nothing—not that you didn’t have practice with someone on your—

“I can practically hear you staring at my chest.” You gently ran your finger over the kit’s cheek while they fed, finally having a moment to really look over your little munchkins.

They looked like an exact copy of Jax, sans the thicker coat of fur, but you already knew they’d have to grow into it. Lightly tinted lilac skin and cute little ears tucked away, and if their eyes were opened there was little doubt they’d also have his eyes. “I carried these suckers for months, don’t tell me they all look like you.” You teased.

Jax snickered, perching himself on the edge of the bed to watch the two of you. Fuck, he was not prepared for just how beautiful you looked with his offspring. Sure you looked amazing when you were pregnant, that big ol’ belly was something he could see you wearing again in the future, but now? There was something breathtaking about seeing you holding a baby, his baby. And there were six of those little boogers.

“Sorry toots, these handsome genes are just too strong.” He ran a hand over his head, swiping his ears back before they sprung back up.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “that would be my luck. At least I didn’t get rug burn.”

The two of you share a quiet giggle at the joke before the kit pushes away from your chest. You burp the kit and not a moment after Jax takes them from you, laying them back down with their siblings.

“So I know we were struggling for names… and since they all took after me. I thought we could name them all after me.”

Coming up with six names had been a difficult task, but you did have a list—he was just being a little shit for the sake of seeing you smile.

“We are not naming our kids ‘Jax’.” You know he’s kidding but that doesn’t make the image any less scary, or stupid. Imagine Christmas with six little Jax’s and trying to differentiate all those damn presents.

He scoffed playfully. “Nah, there can only be one Jax. I was thinking Jaxson—” you let out a snort, “then there’s Jaxica, Jaxcella—”

“We are not naming them like that, oh my god.” Jax sat beside you with a playful pout and threw his arms carefully around you. “There will be no Jax-themed naming, at least give me one thing since they all look like mini yous.”

“Fiiiiine..” he groaned. “Guess I could be persuaded to let you name them all.” You lay your head on his shoulder, looking up at him curiously. “For a kiss.”

“Really? Our children’s names are on the line for a kiss? Avoiding years of future bullying by having the same Jax-themed names all boils down to one kiss?” What a goober. “You drive a hard bargain. Deal.”

The smile on your face is all he really needs, seeing you exhausted and stressed earlier made him annoyed for you. The nurses were stupid and making you more stressed than you needed to be—being a pain in your ass was his job, not theirs. Hell, he nearly decked someone earlier for upsetting you.

You nudged your face against him, he’d spaced out, and if you knew this man you knew he was no doubt thinking about something unnecessary. “Whatever it is isn’t important.”

“You’re very important, and so are those six little wrinkly nuggets.” he huffed. Leaning down he kissed you, it was gentle and sweet, like he was afraid of hurting you. Cute.

“That’s right I didn’t get to see, was the doctor right?”

“Three boys and three girls.”

You let out a groan, picturing all the future sit-downs and explanations you’d have to give to the girls and boys about heaven knows what. “You potty train the boys, I got the girls.”

“Deal.” He quickly spat out.

The two of you sat there quietly, just watching six little chests rise and fall until Jax cleared his throat catching your attention.

“I know it’s a ways off, but wanna really embarrass the kids by you giving the boys the sex talk and I’ll give the girls the period talk?”

You slapped his chest with your free hand, the other coming up to stifle your laughter. “Oh my god, you are awful.”

“I’m not hearing a no.” he hummed.

“We’ll see, periods can be embarrassing and sensitive I don’t want you—”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not actually gonna be a dick, sheesh… I’m wounded you’d think I’d mess with my own kids—”

“You would.”

Jax pouted, giving you a little playful shake before dropping the topic as a whole. Yeah, he’d definitely prank his own kids—but that wasn’t until later on, he had to soak up all this cute baby shit for now.

[thir10th]

some extra help- Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

summary: this is a drabble kinda based on episode 3x02 but it's not a whole insert TW: suggestive content but no smut, dress up, fluff (very cute if you ask me), it's not smut so not much to say here, very short talk about medical stuff (head injury, concussion), i think that's all A/N: this one is quite short but very cute. It's not smut, just suggestive, i ended it right there because I wasn't really on the mood for it. As always: any feedback is appreciated. english isn't my first language. like and reblog <3

you had spent the last 2 nights in a row waking up every 3 to 4 hours, several alarms a night. After saving not only that poor little boy and woman's lives, but also saving you boss' and girlfriend's jobs, you returned home to a renewed Emily Prentiss. She was relieved that she could finally rest, not having to chose between her job and her team, which included you. You had insisted on her not resigning but she would give anything for you and the people she loved, for her team.

After the number she pulled in Milwaukee (you had also begged her to be careful, and you would've shoot that man when you saw what he had done to her hadn't JJ been there to stop you) she had a concussion. it was basically your job to make sure she was still breathing.

You secretly loved taking care of Emily, you kind of hated having to wake up every once in a while, obviously, but there was something about taking helping her with regular stuff, making sure she was taking things easy, all that intimacy.

"baby, stop it" she complains "I'm fine, I can carry my own bag" you had taken it upon yourself to carry it to her apartment "i know you can, but i don't want you to, you have to rest" you try to convince her

"I'm fine, the meds help a lot, it barely hurts now" She says trying to make you forget all that worry "since Milwaukee you've treated me like I'm so fragile, but I won't break just like that"

You drop her bag and her purse, and turn around to face her, grabbing her waist, pulling her close to you, she surrounds your neck with her hands "What's wrong with it? So, i want to take care of my girlfriend, no big deal, she can still be a badass, specially at work, as far as they're concerned, there's no worried girlfriend, just a worried friend, who drives you to work so you don't have to do it yourself" she caresses your back with her fingers, listening to every word you say.

Your relationship was still a secret for the rest of the team, you had been dating already for several months, but you were taking it slow, so no one in the team actually knew you were the one spending the nights at Emily's apartment taking care of her until she got better.

"well, i love my worried girlfriend but she should take a break and get me a nurse so she can start relaxing with me" she says, giving you a peck on your lips and separating from your embrace to go to the bathroom

little did Emily know she had just given you an idea

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

next day you enter Emily's apartment, ready for a nigh full of interruptions, but very ready to have some fun as well.

Emily had given you an idea, a very good one, the kind of idea you knew your girlfriend would love. So you move around the apartment, being as quiet as you can, Emily is resting on the couch reading a book, and you're in the room trying to get yourself ready.

"I can hear you moving, what are you up to back there?" she asks putting her book down, giving up on concentrating enough to read.

"you know, I think it's time to change that bandage on your forehead don't you think? It's been a couple of days" you say from the back of the room

"oh, yeah, i forgot, if you get me the first aid kit i can do it myself"

"no, i can do it for you, because, if i remember correctly, you said yesterday you could use a nurse, right?" with that you enter the living room, all dressed in the lamest, cheapest nurse costume you could have found, the only thing that mattered anyways was that it was short, white, and revealing.

Emily sits up, sitting upright on the couch, her mouth falls open, speechless, her eyes scanning you, running up and down your figure as if trying to memorize every bit of the image.

"So? what do you think?" you tell her, pinning around to give her a look from every angle

her lips start curving into a smile, her mouth still open, she chuckles in surprise, runs her hand through her hair looking for the words

"I can't believe this, you look awesome baby, come here" she says still in awe, opens her arms in a welcoming position. You walk to her, place your legs on her sides so you're straddling her, she caresses the skin of your legs, holding you in place, and lay down to give her a kiss, holding her head with both your hands, she dugs her fingers in the flesh of your thighs, you kiss her lips softly, giving in the contact, melting into the kiss.

"you're hottest nurse I've ever kissed in my life" you chuckle against her lips, she gives you a peck before you get away

"So, are you gonna let the nurse change that bandage of yours or what?" you ask, and she nods, still smiling, holding on to you but finally letting go to allow you to go take the kit.

You come back from the bathroom with a wet cloth in one hand and the red box in the other one, you gesture her to sit straight, and lay her head back, regaining your last position straddling her waist, and her hands fly back to hold your thighs.

You start by slowly taking the old bandage off to avoid hurting her, you take the wet cloth and start cleaning the wound with it, gently tapping around it. She looks at your focused frown, smiling over how seriously you're taking your job. She runs her fingers through the soft skin of your thighs, every time her hands move she reaches higher until she is no longer touching your legs, but your ass, squeezing it gently, making you jump

"Hey! I'm trying to work here, stop distracting me!" You scold her, but she doesn't retreat, her hands keep wondering around, you try to make it as fast as you can.

Applying the bandage on her forehead delicately, you give her a peck on the lips "you're all set" you announce

"thank you nurse, i was wondering, maybe there's something else you could help me with?" she says to your surprise "sure, what would that be?"

"well you see, my very concerned and beautiful girlfriend used to be the one to take care of me, but ever since you came, I haven't seen her around, so maybe you could take care of me tonight, maybe for a bit longer" she says with the sexiest voice, batting her eyelashes to add up to the act, you just follow her play.

"well this one girlfriend of yours sounds like a very nice lady, but i guess i could help you out" you kiss her again, lustfully, running your hands through her hair, down to her sides, until you reach the hemline of her shirt, and you tug on it "how about if we start by removing this?"

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

[hypnoneghoul]

Symbol on the Surface Chapter 10

WC: 1,3k

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: Transmasc Swiss, Pregnancy, Ghoul Nature, Possessiveness & Protectiveness, Violence, Blood and Injury, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Healing Magic

Swiss doesn’t know who to turn to. Mountain has tears streaming down his face and he rids his mate of having to make a choice as he runs away. He presses his hands to his ears so as not to hear Aeon’s sobbing and babbling.

Notes: Tysm to @jimothybarnes for beta reading :3

Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 10 under the cut or on AO3.

Mountain’s possessiveness and protectiveness is growing just as steadily as Swiss’ baby bump.

Everyone has been warned by Omega not to come too close to the multi ghoul when his mate is around—which is all the time, nowadays—and most definitely not to do it without warning.

Aeon is forgetful, though.

Especially when he’s excited.

That’s why he’s not thinking when he goes to Swiss and Mountain’s room all giggly and excited to show them adorable bat onesies that he’s found and would love to get for their kits as a gift so the babies could match with him.

It’s just a horrible coincidence that the pair is on their way out of said room at the same time, with Mountain’s hand hanging over the doorknob when the young ghoul barges in.

It’s only a flash of claws, a rumble of a snarl, and a pained shriek before Aeon stumbles backwards with a slashed open arm, dripping blood onto the ground.

Aeon, poor little Aeon who has suffered so much in the Pit, hurt again.

His back hits the wall before sliding down it. His eyes are wide and stuck at the wound and all the blood leaking out of it. Swiss can see how Aeon’s spiraling into a panic attack; his head surely filled with the images of his past abuse in the Pit by now.

“You–you all t–told me I was–I was safe here. You s–said I wouldn’t be h–hurt again, you–you promised, and–and I’m…he–he hurt me,” the quintessence ghoul chokes out, lost in the flashbacks.

Swiss doesn’t know what to do, who to turn to. Mountain has tears streaming down his face and he rids his mate of having to make a choice as he runs away to their bathroom and slams the door shut. He curls in a corner and presses his hands to his ears so as not to hear Aeon’s sobbing and near delirious, panicked babbling.

The multi ghoul, being cut out from Mountain, drops to his knees by Aeon, grabbing his face and trying to ground him.

“Bug? Buggy, breathe. It’s okay, breathe, you’re okay. I’m right here, you’re okay,” he tells him. Except…except he’s not okay, and Swiss knows Aeon is not going to be able to calm down until he’s healed and all the blood is gone. He can’t leave him, though, so his only choice is to yell. “AETHER!!! GET ME AETHER, RIGHT NOW!!! AEON’S HURT, WE NEED HELP, GET AETHER!!!”

Swiss screams until the older quintessence ghoul gets there—fortunately he was down in the den, and not in the infirmary or outside.

“What the fuck happened!?” he asks, already by Aeon’s side and taking care of the huge and deep slash across their forearm that’s all but gushing blood.

“Mountain,” the multi ghoul breathes out and Aether turns to him with disbelief painted on his face. Swiss goes to explain, “Aeon surprised us and Mountain didn’t–there wasn’t even time, he just saw a threat and–and this happened.”

“Accidents happen,” the quintessence ghoul sighs, nearly finished with healing the other one. Aeon seems to be completely dissociated now, no longer in pain, but still trapped in his mind. “I’m gonna take him with me, you go to your mate. I’m sure guilt’s eating him alive right now, he needs to be taken care of, too.”

Swiss nods and waits for Aether and Aeon to leave before he goes to get up. He struggles—cursing under his breath as he grabs onto the nearest piece of wall and digs his claws in. His stomach hurts a little, but he ignores it when he finally stands up; running straight to the bathroom door. He finds it locked.

“Mounty? Sweetheart? Are you okay in there? Let me in, please,” he begs. No answer comes, so Swiss puts his ear against the door. He hears shaky breathing and little choked out sobs—Mountain sounds like he’s about to run out of air.

Swiss’ heart aches as he can do nothing but listen, begging once again. “Aeon’s with Aeth, he’s healed him already. He’s a little shaken up, but he’s fine. Please, open the door, my love. You didn't do anything wrong, no one’s angry at you. It was an accident.”

Still no answer.

He rests his forehead on the door and lets his own tears of stress and worry and frustration flow. His breath hitches and he just–doesn’t know what to do. It’s been barely five minutes since Mountain lashed out at Aeon and so much has happened.

Swiss cries against the wood, not hearing his mate move on the other side. Suddenly the lock clicks and he pulls away so he doesn’t fall as—if—Mountain opens it.

The earth ghoul lets out a pained whine when he sees Swiss’ reddened eyes and puffy cheeks. He reaches out with a shaky hand and cups his mate’s face.

“No c–cry,” Mountain mutters. He struggles with it, clearly going into a verbal shutdown from all the stress. It makes Swiss smile—albeit a little sadly.

“I’m okay, my love,” he assures, “and Aeon is, too.”

The earth ghoul nods and dips his head to look at Swiss’ bump before moving to place a hand on it. He flinches back, though, when he notices Aeon’s blood under his claws.

Swiss covers them and pushes the bigger ghoul back and towards the sink. “C’mere. Don’t have to look.”

He grabs the soap and turns on the tap and in no time at all the blood is washed away. The multi ghoul takes Mountain’s hands, then, and brings them to his belly again.

“M–m–mine,” Mountain mumbles.

“Yours,” Swiss agrees before tipping his head back to kiss the earth ghoul. “You were just trying to protect what’s yours, yeah?”

The other nods. The guilt won’t go away for a while, but the comfort of his mate is certainly helping.

“Yeah, I know, sweetheart. It’s alright.” The multi ghoul forces another reassuring smile despite some worry settling in the back of his head. His stomach is hurting.

Still, he decides to ignore it—at least for now—and get Mountain to bed. He leads him to the nest and makes him shuck off his clothes, then his own, leaving both of them in only their underwear. The earth ghoul curls around Swiss and nuzzles his face into his neck, clinging onto him just a little too tight.

They just…are for a while, both trying to breathe normally again; neither speaking.

Mountain jumps when Swiss’ phone buzzes on the bedside table and the multi ghoul coos to him as he reaches for it. A message from Aether—he reads it first before deciding to share it with Mountain.

“Hey, Aeth texted,” he whispers, not to startle the earth ghoul again, “Aeon is alright, they’re watching a movie right now. He says you shouldn’t feel too guilty and asks if you would be up for a walk outside tomorrow.”

Mountain lifts his head and Swiss can see some conflicting feelings flash through his eyes, but then the corner of his lips twitches upwards and he nods. The multi ghoul leans down to kiss him on the tip of his nose before replying to Aether.

S: he’d love to, i think it’ll help him to see that buggy really is okay

A: I agree. Have a good night, you two.

S: you too :)

Swiss’ phone feels heavy as he turns on DND before dropping it back onto the bed. He sighs before curling more into Mountain’s embrace and letting his eyes fall shut.

He’s ready for the day to end.

Taglist: @arkeusruin @skele-bunny @everybodyshusband @ratsummer @jazz-bazz @mac-and-thefox @karmicbias @wine-irytatus

[andreafmn]

Collision | Chapter 30

Word Count: 3.7K Warnings: bodily harm, self inflicted wounds, mentions of blood

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

A/N: so close to the finish line now! Can't wait to have another fic finished so I can focus on the other stories and continuations (and hopefully spend time on my original works 😬😬)

<- Previous | Next ->

“What did you do?” Theo exclaimed as she flung Carlisle to the other side of the cave. The walls around them trembled, roaring at the force of the throw. Esme had arrived with just enough time to catch (Y/N) before the girl crumbled to the ground. “What happened to her?!” 

“She… s-she… I didn’t…” Carlisle couldn’t quite find the words. He had spent months concocting the image of (Y/N) over and over. She had come to him every single time. Sometimes, she was happy; other times, she was angry. The worst was when she was sad. But she always came. He’d become used to the mirage of her, coming as far as to anticipate excitedly her arrival. It didn’t matter what she could spew at him. All he cared about was to see her face.  

 But that last delusion had thrown him for a spin. She had never asked him to come home. Not in the eight months he had been there. She’d told him she loved him, that she hated him, that she hoped the Volturi killed him, she had even gone as far as to say she would stay with him. But she had never asked him to come home. The words had taken him aback when they had fallen from her lips. She had never felt so real before, but he knew the more time he spent without feeding, the more the hallucinations would take over.  

Carlisle had truly believed the (Y/N) before him was another trick of his mind. It wasn’t until the smell of her blood had reached his nostrils that he finally snapped out of his trance. He didn’t even register that his hand was around her throat until he released her. “I thought she wasn’t real,” he mumbled. “I-I-I thought she was in my head.” 

“Well, she’s very much real, Carlisle,” Esme said as she wrapped the girl’s arm with her jacket, doing her best not to breathe. “And she needs help right now. I don’t know how deep she went.” 

“This is my fault,” Carlisle whimpered as he cradled his head. His mind was still riddled with images and voices he couldn’t discern, and it wouldn’t take long before he gave in to his hunger. (Y/N)’s blood was the most delectable one he had smelled in the centuries he had been alive. “She’s gonna die, and it’s my fault.” 

“You need to pull yourself together, Carlisle!” Theo said as she slapped some sense into the mumbling man. “She needs you now more than ever. I need you to focus and tell us what we have to do to help her.” 

His eyes flickered toward (Y/N)’s unconscious form. Even with the bind, the bleeding had not stopped, only slowed—it wasn’t tied correctly. The man slowly scrambled to his feet, dragging himself through the ground until he got to her. Slowly, he undid Esme’s work, ripping the sleeve and tying it higher up on the wound. Then, he inspected the crystal she had used, thanking God she had gone less than half an inch deep. But the cut was long, and it needed to be closed as soon as possible.  

“Did you bring a first aid kit by chance?”  

“Yes,” Theo said. “It’s in the car right now. I’ll get it.” 

Without another word, Theo disappeared, leaving Esme and Carlisle to look after (Y/N).  

She looked peaceful in her state—if you ignored the mess of blood that had accumulated under her arm. But she was hurt, and it had been Carlisle’s fault. He understood Edward’s plight now. He understood why he told them all to go when Bella had gotten hurt. They caused more harm than good to people who did not deserve kit.  

“It’s not your fault, Carlisle,” Esme whispered. She held onto (Y/N)’s arm, helping the wound stay closed while Theo came back. "It may seem like it is, but it’s not your fault.” 

“I had my hands around her neck,” he muttered, still not believing what had happened. “If I had applied just an ounce of my strength, I would have snapped her neck. She would have never woken up. I… I…” 

“You didn’t though,” she calmed him. “She’s stronger than she looks, Carlisle. And she wouldn’t have done this if she didn’t think she could make it out of here. She cares about you, you know. As angry and hurt as she is because of what we did, she came all this way to help us get you home.”  

“She shouldn’t have,” he scoffed defeatedly. “I don’t deserve her mercy. I certainly don’t even deserve her pity.”  

“But you have it,” the woman said. “It’s not a matter of deserving or not. She didn’t need a reason to help you, Carlisle. Though she fought it, I won’t lie. She deemed you worthy of her help, and she gave it freely, even if it meant getting hurt. Deep down, I know she loves you—that’s why she did this. You two are far too entwined for her to have left you to rot here.” 

“I should have just gone to the Volturi. End everyone’s misery of having me around.” 

“Goodness, no wonder you liked Edward so much,” Esme chuckled. “You’re both cut from the same cloth.” The woman adjusted her grip on (Y/N)’s arm. Her resolve was dwindling as time passed, but she stood her ground. If Carlisle, who hadn’t fed well in months, had yet to attack, she knew she’d be able to hold herself. “Death would not have been the right punishment for what you did. Living… that’s the real damnation. That’s why you were here, right? But that wouldn’t have been right either.” 

“There is no right punishment for what you did,” Theo said as she joined them. “But torturing yourself is not right either. I told you when you came to me the first time, living with what you’ve done is punishment enough. Seeing (Y/N) move on from you is your calvary. This? This is easy. You’ve done this before and survived. Living without her is what’s new.” 

“Theo…” Esme tried to assuage.  

“No, Esme,” she interrupted. “Carlisle, you’ve been the closest thing I have to family since I lost my sister centuries ago. You taught me everything I know now, and for that, I am eternally grateful. But you did a horrible thing, and you have to learn to live with that. Because if you don’t, I’m afraid this won’t be the last time (Y/N) puts her life on the line to save you.” 

Esme tried to speak up again, but Carlisle stopped her. “You’re right, Theo,” he sighed. “I have been a coward, and I pretended this was enough for my penance. But this is not the time nor the place to speak in this. (Y/N) needs tending to, and I need to make sure she’s okay.” 

After Theo threw the kit toward him, the doctor set off to work. He cleaned his hands with cleansing wipes, making sure not a spec of grime was left on his skin. In the box, he found gauze and a basic suture kit. It wouldn’t create a pretty closure, but it would be enough to help her heal. Without giving it another thought, Carlisle cleaned the girl’s arm, clearing the way for the needle and thread. He was gentle at first, checking after every stab of the needle that (Y/N) remained unconscious. If she had woken up, the cave would be filled with more than just her blood. Her screams would have bounced off the walls, ricocheting to the wilderness where anyone could witness it. So, he worked cautiously and fast, closing the wound before covering it with gauze and medical tape.  

“She’s going to be okay,” Carlisle found himself muttering. He ran his hand across her hair, caressing her like he had done many times before. “She just needs to rest.” 

For the first time in a long time, the three vampires allowed themselves to breathe. Even if they didn’t need to, they had all felt their lungs aching for air—especially air that did not smell of sweet crimson. It was a shared breath of relief for the girl they had tangled into supernatural business. They had always meant to protect her, but somehow, some way, she always got hurt.  

“We should take her back to the house,” Theo said. “She’ll be more comfortable there, and she’ll need to recover before we fly back to Washington. There, we can talk.” 

“Of course,” the man replied. “I am sure there are many questions you need answers to.” 

“We’re not the only ones.” 

They were careful as they got (Y/N) down on solid ground again, making sure her arms remained unmoving. The less she was jostled around, the faster her recovery would be. In no time, the three vampires reached the car. Esme and Carlisle cleared out the backseat, making room for the girl to lay down. She was still asleep, but her heart was beating strong, and her chest was rising and falling at a steady pace. She was okay. Hurt and tired, but okay.  

“I’ll stay with her,” Carlisle said as he slipped into the backseat. 

“Carlisle…” 

“Please, Theo,” he begged. “I just… let me just hold her. Please.” 

 Begrudgingly, the woman lay her friend across the man’s lap, keeping a careful eye on the starved vampire. Theo and Esme had fed just before the trip in case things went awry, but it didn’t help that the blood was so fresh… and so human. She couldn’t fathom what it would be like to be in Carlisle’s shoes. But he seemed in control. Perfectly and completely in control.  

Carlisle looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms, and he questioned how he’d ever found the strength to let her go. Somehow, Edward had gotten into his head. “Look how much harm you’ve already caused her,” he had said. “Do you want to be the reason she dies too?” The boy had known just the right words to sway his mind of staying in Forks, of staying with her. He had made the older man believe that being in (Y/N)’s life would cause her more harm than food, and with time, he’d come to see it. 

But time had only worked to muddle his mind and darken his thoughts. He had spent months fighting with his mind over his mistake, over hurting the one person who had stolen his heart in the hundreds of years he had walked the earth. Only she had been able to break through the wall he had built around himself—not even the very family he had built for himself had gotten as close as she had.  (Y/N) was everything he had prayed for, and he’d thrown away that blessing for fear he would spoil her, taint her, harm her. And in protecting her, he had bestowed upon her the greatest hurt of all. He had broken her heart and left his with her.  

There weren’t many things Carlisle regretted in his life. After living for so long, he couldn’t. Regret could take over if he let it, sinking its claws into the depths of his mind. But leaving (Y/N) behind was the one thing he could never atone for. Words had spewed from his mouth before he could stop them. Thinking he’d never see her again, he needed to make sure she hated him for the rest of her life. If he was the villain in her story, she wouldn’t have cared what happened to him after.  

Yet he had failed to remember who she was. (Y/N) cared. She didn’t need a reason to; she simply cared about everything and everyone. Whether it was a complete stranger or her childhood friend, she cared so much about them. Caring came naturally to her; it was programmed into the fabric of her being. The minute she didn’t, that’s when you’d know she had given up on you. And it seemed it took more than Carlisle had counted on. 

(Y/N) had put her life on the line to make sure Carlisle came back to his senses. He’d been so lost inside his own mind that he wasn’t able to distinguish between delusion and reality. But she was determined to bring him back, no matter what.  

“That was a very stupid thing you did, darling,” he found himself whispering. “You should have left me there.” 

“She loves you, you know,” Theo muttered in response. “As much as you tried to push her away, deep down, she still loves you. That’s what keeps getting her hurt.” 

“I wanted her to hate me. That’s why I did what I did,” he confessed. There was nothing he could say that would ever make things right, but he had to let it out. “If she hated me, then it wouldn’t be hard for her to move on. She was supposed to have a brilliant life without me. She was meant to forget me and make something of herself.” 

“But that’s not what happened, is it?” Theo pushed. “You forgot to consider the love she had for you. You forgot that just as you had fallen for her, she fell for you. She loved you more than you thought possible, and it wrecked her, Carlisle. And I didn’t know how much until today.” 

“What do you mean?” Esme asked, diverting her sight from the road.  

“(Y/N) was willing to die to make sure you got home,” she said. “She hurt herself because she had faith you would come back to reality and help her. Even if she didn’t know if you would, she put her life in your hands. That’s love.” 

And it was. As much as he wanted to believe that he had done the right thing by leaving her, Carlisle knew that her love was just as deeply carved as his was. He had crawled his way into her heart, and just as she had left a part of herself in him, he had left a part of himself in her—planted deep and ever-growing. It was a part that would remain for the rest of their lives, even if they wanted it gone.  

“Love is often the greatest detriment of all,” he sighed. “It’s the reason we are in this mess in the first place.”  

“I’d say we’re in this mess because you couldn’t say no to little boy wonder,” Theo scoffed. “There were so many other choices you could have decided on before breaking her heart in the way you did. This is all because of a choice you made.”   

“Theo, there’s no need to be so harsh,” Esme said, placing a hand on Theo’s. “I know he’s regretting everything he did already.”   

“It’s quite alright, dear friend. Her words are less than I deserve.”   

“I told you to come back months ago,” Theo continued. “I told you to make things right with her—to right your wrongs. As a matter of fact, you should have never left. At the very least, you should have taken her with you.”  

“I cannot live in all I should have done, Theodora. Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen Forks to reside in. Maybe I should have stayed in Alaska for longer, maybe even London. Maybe I should have waited until (Y/N)’s passing to grace the lands of Washington again,” Carlisle cried. “But that’s not what I did, and I cannot change the past. As much as I would want things to be different, I cannot change what I already did. I can only make sure I don’t keep hurting her anymore.”  

“She’s a special person, Carlisle. You were able to see that but not treasure it. She’ll never be the same after you, and I need you to know that,” the woman continued. “(Y/N) deserves better.”  

“I know,” he said. “She deserves the world, but I wasn't strong enough to give it to her.”  

The rest of the car ride was quiet, with Carlisle's attention solely focused on (Y/N). He wiped away the specs of dirt that stained her face, softly tracing the lines that made up her face. Lovely, he thought. The most beautiful woman he'd ever been blessed to lay his eyes upon. The owner of his heart, the woman of his dreams, the answer to his silent prayers... the girl he had broken until there was nothing left of her.    

(Y/N) ended the day just like she had started it, confused.  Last she remembered, Carlisle had her pressed against the cave wall, his hand tightly around her neck. But she was comfortable now. Maybe she was dead. In hindsight, slicing her arm in a confined space full of vampires was not the best idea.  

Her eyes fluttered open to find the same bedroom she had left hours before. Only this time, the sun had set, and the stars shined brightly in the sky. Her arm was neatly bandaged, and she could feel the tightness of sutures under it. She wasn't dead—that much she knew. She was back at the house, but she had no idea if the plan had worked.  

“Good,” a voice startled her. “You're awake.”  

“Carlisle,” she croaked, her hand flying to the bandaged wound. “You're here. I wasn't... I didn't know if it worked.”  

“Yes, your life-defying stunt did work,” he chuckled softly. “Too well, I might add. Had all of us scared to death. We thought...”  

“But it worked,” she interjected. “That's all that matters.”  

“Right. Of course.”  

“What time are we leaving? I'm guessing tomorrow since it's already late enough now.”  

“Oh, well,” he cleared his throat, “Esme found some tickets for eight in the morning, but if it's too early, we can...”  

“Eight is fine,” she said. “Guess I should use this time to sleep then. And make up a plausible reason for this wound.”  

“We should talk, (Y/N). We...”  

“Not right now, Carlisle. I just... I want…” The words died in her throat. What did she want? Getting back together was surely a grave mistake—even if her heart still beat to the rhythm of his name. She wanted answers, of course. But she couldn't be in the same room as him for too long, or she was afraid she'd burst into tears and never stop. She hadn't even stopped to look at him... 

 “Oh, Carlisle,” (Y/N) whimpered. His face was still gaunt, painted with the evidence of hunger. His eyes were as dark as coal, the circles under trying to match them in color. He looked tired, most of all. And for a creature that required no sleep, that meant something. Without thinking twice, she cradled his face, running her thumb against his sharp cheekbone. “You haven't fed yet.”’ 

“I fed enough,” he answered, closing his eyes as he leaned into her touch. He had missed her warmth, her compassion. He had missed because he had thrown her away. And yet, he still held out hope. “But I wanted to be here when you woke up. It's my fault you're hurt.”  

“I knew what I was getting myself into,” she said. “Only something drastic would work to break you out of madness. So, I did what I had to.”  

“Still... you could've...”  

“I could have died, I know,” the girl sighed. “But I didn't. And everyone is going home. That's what's important.”  

There he was.  

No longer a face that clouded her mind. Carlisle was there; she could feel him. Even in his state, he was still the most beautiful man she had seen. Somehow, just by being in his presence, she could feel her anger for him dissipating. His allure was strong, intoxicating even. She could feel her resolve dwindling. The months of work she had gone through would have been for nothing if she kept his gaze for one more second.  

“(Y/N)...” 

“You should go feed, Carlisle,” she said. (Y/N) straightened herself out on the bed, pulling the covers up to her neck. “And I should go sleep. Long day tomorrow, you know?”  

“Oh, uh, of course,” he stammered. “I guess I'll see you in the morning, then.”  

“Yeah,” (Y/N) smiled. Her eyes followed his figure toward the entrance, trying her best to keep her from yelling his name. “See you in the morning.”  

Without another word, the vampire closed the door behind him, allowing her to let out the breath she had been holding. She had prepared herself mentally to see him again, she had gone over every scenario that could arise in her head. But nothing she had imagined could compare to their reality.  

Tears welled in the back of her eyes, making her chin tremble as she fought against her emotions. (Y/N) believed she had gotten over her feelings for Carlisle. Even if the love lay dormant under the surface, she thought she at least had control over it. But everything bubbled to the surface—love, anger, betrayal, disappointment. He was everything in one and more than she could manage. He had been the reason for so many of her tears, yet he had also been the reason for so much of her joy. Carlisle had taught her love. He taught her passion and enjoyment. He taught her sensuality and possession. He had given, and he had taken. He had been her everything until he had become nothing. And, in a matter of seconds, he became the same infectious being he had been months before. The man who had made a home in her heart and refused to go.  

But one thing was for sure, (Y/N) could not allow him to just waltz back into her life like nothing had happened, like no scars had been made. Although her entire being ached and yearned for him, she could not. The girl had lost herself after Carlisle had gone, transformed into a person she had no desire to remember. That version of her had hurt, had lied, had drowned her sorrows in a bottle of vodka, and made the decision she would always regret. (Y/N) could not go back to being in a position where Carlisle could hurt her in that way again.  

Instead of giving him any more thought, she decided to simply succumb to sleep once more. Thinking alone was exhausting enough, with the events of the day, she was ready to sleep until the next year.  

Still, as she felt the weight of slumber fall upon her, she heard a whisper from the other side of the door.  

“I love you, (Y/N),” Carlisle murmured, possibly thinking she had already fallen asleep. “And I'm sorry.”  

Next ->

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[thetwstwildcard]

"A lioness does not need to roar to keep the crowd in awe."

Full Name: Kiara Furaha Sarabi

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 19

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday: October 26th

Star Sign: Scorpio

Height: 178 cm (roughly 5'10)

Eye Color: Crimson

Hair Color: Dyed blonde (naturally brown)

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Voice Claims: Megumi Toyoguchi (Japanese) Allegra Clark (English)

Inspiration: Zira

Homeland: Sunset Savanna

Dorm: Savanaclaw

Year: 3rd

Club: Magishift

Best Subject: P.E

Worst Subject: Magical Pharmaceuticals

Favorite Food: Meat

Likes: Training, the Kingscholar family, her homeland, magishift, sparring, warm areas, keeping people in line, taking care of Cheka and keeping an eye on her dorm mates

Dislikes: The Furaha family (mainly her mother), being treated differently because "she's a girl", Leona's laziness, remembering her childhood, her burn scars, being unable to control her UM and having to be stuck between her loyalties

Personality: Blunt and hot headed, though loyal to a fault, Kiara was taken into the Kingscholar family after being disowned by her own family. She is most loyal to Leona, though she is still respectful to Farena (originally her family tried to force her on him despite the large age gap). She was taken in my Leona's mother at age 8 and given her maiden name. She may seem harsh and rough around the edges but she does care about those around her. From this she is often in charge of watching Cheka (who is fond of her and calls her "Unti") around him it is one of the few moments her harsh exterior softens.

Unique Magic: Lioness's Rage: Covers her hands and feel with claws of flame, prolonged use will burn her. The angrier she is, the hotter her flames are (blue and white are possible), though that also means her UM is more out of control and will do more damage to her body.

Trivia:

She was disowned at age 8 after a fight with Akili which "unlocked" Kiara's UM. This combined with her anger resulted in Kiara burning half of her sister. Upon seeing what happened their mother clawed Kiara's face and disowned her.

After her disownment, Kiara went to the Kingscholars (having been training to be a royal guard since childhood) where she was taken under the wing of Leona's mother and given a new surname.

Upon Farena's appointment as king, and while with Leona, Kiara burned her hair short, fully cutting ties with her family as she swore her loyalty to Leona as both were "betrayed" by their siblings.

Calls Leona "my king", though when it is just them she will call him "Lea-lea". When they fight however, she calls him by his name.

While childhood friends, Kiara and Leona often fight as Kiara sees his actions as "giving up" and she "expected more" from him.

Leona originally was annoyed with her, though her disownment made them grew closer as he finally had another who understood his feelings (Akili was always the golden child)

Kiara covers the scars on her arms and legs, ashamed that she "couldn't even control" her own UM

She is only in the beginning of the Savanaclaw chapter as after a fight with Leona (another push to OB-ing), she left to return to the Sunset Savanna to cool her head

Akili did not blame her sister for what happened, but she was poisoned against her by their parents and now avoids her, thinking of her as a "beast".

Kiara calls people by the young terms of animals (ex: pup, kit, cub, calf, etc)

Trains so hard with Sarafina as a way to find purpose and "prove her family wrong"

Catrina has used her UM on her before but swore to never again after seeing Kiara have a genuine breakdown at her childhood memories

While she "hates" her mother, she still misses her. She even begged as she was kicked out of the house to "please don't stop being my mother!!", though this did not change her mother's mind. Her father did not stand up against his wife's decision.

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here

Tales the Songs Weave

Bonus: Honeymoon

Notes: Something I wanted to do as my brain wouldn't leave me alone about it. A nice wedding as reader now becomes Mrs. O'Hara~

CW: Wedding day shenanigans and a slightly nervous reader and Miguel.

Bonus One: You Slow Down Time, in Your Golden Hour

Word count: 6.4K

You stared into the full-body mirror, nervousness, happiness, and other raging emotions swirling within. You never felt like this, but here you, trying not to sweat your pits as Ronnie turned you over to look at her.

“Careful, I don't want to stick you.” She muttered, sewing a small tear right on the side of your dress. 

“I'm sorry, Ronnie. I didn't mean to zone out on you.”

She waved her hand, digging through a sewing kit and getting right to work. “Nah, don't be. It's a big day for you. I don't blame you for being all up in the clouds and jittery.”

You reared your head back at the mirror and beamed harder. You couldn't believe this momentous event was happening; you simply couldn't.

You were getting married.

You were getting married to your star, your forever, your everything: Miguel O'Hara.

Twisting the engagement ring, you peered at the shining stone. Ronnie grinned, finishing up the last final touches on it. “And here we are.” 

Staring at yours and Ronnie's reflection, you both dawned the same sparkling smile, eyeing the dress in admiration. The dress was beautiful. The flowing skirt embroidered with tiny stars and daisies, the slight puffy sleeves, the V-neck showing just a bit of cleavage. 

It was wonderful, considering that it is an expensive dress as well. 

Ronnie was given this dress by some model who, in a pretentious manner, gave it away along with other clothing because ‘she didn't want to be caught dead with them.’

When Ronnie did research, the clothes were worth tens of thousands of dollars, having her to hoard them away from the public eye.

“But now, since this is technically a very special occasion, I want you to wear and have this.”

You recalled denying her over and over. You couldn't accept a very extravagant item, especially if it was one of her most prized possessions. Yet Ronnie's persistence refused to give in.

She badgered you and even got Miguel to jump on the bandwagon when he saw how it complimented your figure. Even taking notes on the little designs adorning it. 

You did give in by the third week, when Ronnie was standing in front of your apartment one morning holding the dress up to her chest. You were grateful for Miguel being up that early, or you would've tossed her out of your window. She threatened to sneak in and put the damn thing on in your sleep, and you didn't want to take her up on that offer.

Then you got an actual good look, and the rest was history.

“Doing okay?”

“Hm? Uh, yes. Think the jitters are getting to me.” You raised your arms when Ronnie instructed you to do so.

“You're not planning on trying to pull a runaway bride on us, are you now?” She inspected for any other tears or loose strings. “Because if you are, let me come. I don't want to be there when Miguel inevitably freaks out more than usual... Or maybe I'll have Peter record it.”

You couldn't say you were baffled by your friend's train of thoughts, but it still never managed to have you taken aback because of how thoughts chugs along up there.

“No, Ronnie. Besides, my body wouldn't even take two steps before I'm sprinting right back to the altar. I love that man too much, and cold feet aren't an option.”

“That man does seem to have a magnetic pull.” She pinned a part and placed her hands on her hips. “And there we go. You are all ready to go.”

“I'm getting married, holy shit, I'm getting married, Ronnie. What the fuck, what the fuck? Are they ready? Is he ready? Please tell me I have more time to get my shit in order.”

Your boss pulled out her phone before swatting your hand away from your hair, scolding you for trying to mess it up. “I worked on that.” She punched in several numbers, and you listened to the phone ring.

“Do you think he's nervous? Or is it just me? I think it's only me; it has to be me? Right, right?” You crossed your arms and tapped your foot rapidly. “What if he's calm and I'm the nervous one? It's only me!” You started to pace the room, fanning yourself to not get overly sweaty.

After the fourth ring, someone picked up, and Ronnie heard shuffling, then a frantic voice speaking in Spanish at a hundred words per second in the background.

“Calm- Miguel, calm down; it's—yes, I know... No, she won't have cold—go, go sit down! Just relax. Hi, Ronnie. Is she ready to go?” Peter's held a strain in his tone as Miguel continued panicking in the back. 

“About to ask you the same thing. Is he freaking out as much as she is?” Ronnie looked at your worn state, then back at her phone. 

“I'm trying to get him to calm down. He said he's scared if she gets cold feet or if he gets it. I told him he would turn and run straight back to the altar if he tried to do a runaway groom. And he agreed.”

Ronnie snickered and sighed out. “Sounds about right. But she's ready; they're both wrecks, so that means they're good to go.”

“I don't think that means they are ready, Ronnie.”

“They are. Find a way to get him in the car, and we will see you two in five.” She hung as Peter tried to sputter one more thing, but Ronnie wasn't having you and Miguel drag this day on.

“What did he say? He's not ready? Good, grand, I get to relax here for a bit longer.”

“Nope, he's ready. Let's go.” 

You and Ronnie had a showdown. You were wanting to do this, but there was something gnawing at your skin and bones. You couldn't figure out why you were so anxious. Leading up to this day was all fine and dandy. Everything was in order, and you both agreed on how the day would go with relative ease.

Like how you both originally wanted to do a Catholic ceremony, but you didn't necessarily have the right resources. With your mother and father watching the celebration by phone, due to your father's chronic fear of flying, you two didn't really want to go through all those steps. When Miguel explained the steps, your head was caught in a whirlwind, and even with your own research on how to minimize it, it made your head throb. So you settled on simple vows and allowed the officiant to do their thing. 

And the guest list was a breeze to make, even if you both knew the consequences. It made sense for Peter to be the best man and Ronnie to be your maid of honor. You didn't mind Peter's wife tagging along too; you both needed some balance between the two. Short and simple. The way you two wanted it.

Then the next thing you slightly dreaded: your mom and dad.

When you announced the news to your parents about the engagement, they immediately video called wanting to interrogate Miguel. You tried to prevent any form of physical call, only wanting to stick to messages, but Miguel eased you to the idea that talking to them would've been a better option. You did give in, but it was an immediate regret.

“Why are you so big? Do you do steroids?”

“What the hell, dad?”

“Don't talk to your father that way. Now, what's your income salary?”

“Mom!”

“What? I need to make sure he can provide.”

“Occupation?” Your dad stepped more into frame.

“I'm, uh, I'm retired, sir.”

“Doesn't answer my question.”

“Geneticist, sir.”

“Yeah, I don't like him. No scientist needs to be that built.”

“I just searched how much a geneticist could make, and he's retired at a young age? He's good-looking man, smart, and in shape? Good pick. I like him. When are you having children? Keep him because I want beautiful grandbabies!” 

You wanted to evaporate into the air.

“You like him for all the wrong reasons. What are your intentions with my daughter? Do you want kids? Where did you meet her? What are your political thoughts? How much has she told you about us? Why haven't you called us to tell us you've been seeing this man-?”

You hung up and slumped your body on the table.

“Now I see why you only message them instead of calling.”

You gave it a few more days for them to settle down, and it helped. It didn't take long for your mom to love him, to the point where she preferred to talk to him more than you. Your dad did eventually warm up to him, more so when he learned that Miguel was actively trying to seek out your brother to surprise you at the wedding. Your dad accidentally let it slip a couple days before the wedding, stating Miguel is now his new son and how Barkley was a coward for hiding away.

Miguel confessed that he was struggling to find him; even with his old fancy HQ gizmo, it was as if he never even existed. He did feel undoubtedly terrible, and you hugged him, thanking him a million times for going out of his way for a surprise that would've been amazing. 

To help bring the mood back up, you treated him to his favorite restaurant and then came back to the apartment and proceeded to ride him until you both were seeing stars.

Needless to say, you pushed everything to the back of your brain to solely focus on Miguel, the wedding, and nothing else. 

Everything was running smoothly, minus MJ not being able to show up due to catching a virus, so there wasn't going to be any middleman that you and Miguel craved. And Ronnie wasn't helping by forcibly dragging you out to the car. The glimpses of passersby didn't help as Ronnie gave them all a thumbs-up that this wasn't a kidnapping, and you were safe before gently shoved you in the passenger side. Your leg bounced the vehicle, wishing that the botanical garden was halfway across Nueva York.

“You're going to tilt the car if you keep moving your leg like that.” She slid in and started up the engine and pulled off the curb.

“I'm sorry, Ronnie. I don't know why I'm feeling this way.”

“Marriage is a big thing. Committing your life to someone who is willing to go through the ups and downs with you and vice versa. Well, unless you're my cousin.”

Your face bunched up at that. “Why do you say that?”

“She's been married about seven times in the span of five years. She was more worried about the weddings than the actual guy she was getting with.” Ronnie said. “Always keeping up with her needs, barely inputting what the man may want. Every time you saw the groom, they always seemed so dead, tuned out, or going along with it to prevent her from blowing up over the simplest of issues. Kind of sad, so seeing someone excited to be with the person they truly love is refreshing.” 

Your lips curled upwards. It was joy that was amplifying all those emotions that were raging inside. The one that was outshining the rest. 

Ronnie parked and hopped out of the car and dashed to your side and opened it for you. She moved her head around like a vulture, scoping out for the others. Only a few cars preoccupied the other spaces, but she didn’t see the car Peter was taking. You stepped out with her help and pointed out that the officiant was here.

“Hey, we got fifty percent. I see that as an absolute success so far.” Ronnie took your hand, and you two made your way under the pergolas. “You know this would be a gorgeous shot.”

“I'll make sure to tell Peter. I hope he remembered to bring his camera.” When scouring for a photographer, you learned that Peter was one, and he recommended himself to do all the pictures and photo edits.

You accepted his offer but didn't know how the payment was going to work with him being from another dimension. You questioned if it was like another country where you could exchange your currency for theirs. Or if future money would affect the past. They assured you that it should be okay, and if it doesn't, you and Miguel would pay in babysitting Mayday.

“Where the heck are Peter and Miguel? I swear if he did do a ‘runaway groom,’ I'm going back for my bat!” 

You had to pause and grab her by the shoulders to not freak yourself out. “Ronnie,” you began through a tightened jaw and forced smile. “Let's go in and meet the officiant. Remember, if one of us shows up first, we can quickly make sure things are in order. Two, Ronnie. Please. Don't.”

The woman was a bit shaken by your calm yet frightening demeanor. She nodded her head, taking the time to realize stressing you out wasn't the best idea. You continued on as she watched you pull your phone out and dial for your parents. You were immediately met with bombarding questions and what took you so long to call. Your eye spasms, and you were forced to give them a stern talking and practically told them to behave themselves, or you will have Ronnie keep them silent throughout the entire ceremony. 

 

You greeted the officiant, who was settled on one of the splattered painted benches. She thankfully gave an update that Miguel and Peter were on the way, leading you and Ronnie to the entryway to get checked in. There was an employee there if anything went awry or you simply needed help.

“I need to freshen up, please. Ronnie, stay here if they come. Can you show me where your restrooms are?” Your hands fidgeted with the puffs on your sleeves. The officiant decided to go with you in case you needed more assistance. 

Ronnie mingled with your parents, her and your mom squealing how you were marrying a “hunky hottie,” while your father didn't make a peep. Ronnie's phone vibrated in her back pocket. She grabbed it and cupped the screen. It was Peter. She excused herself from your mom and dad and muted them so they wouldn't start raising questions on why the groom isn't there yet. 

“Where the hell are you two?” Ronnie hissed. 

“We're in the parking lot. Had to help Miguel from sweating up his dress shirt too much.” There were two doors being shut. “Where is she? Is everyone here and ready?”

“Yes, now hurry up—you slow bastards!” Ronnie hung up and hurriedly called the officiant to make her way back. 

When she got there, your boss handed the phone to the officiant and made her way to where you and the employee were. 

“Can I talk to her alone, please?” You smiled at the employee.

“Of course.” They shuffled out of the restrooms and into the outside.

“Letting you know now, I'm not afraid to tackle you down if you try to run.” Ronnie checked behind to make sure the counter was dry and leaned on it.

“Did you manage to get a glimpse of him?” You peered at your reflection, giving yourself a final inspection, inside and out.

“Nope. I think I was making my way here when they came in.” She inched over and rested her hand on your shoulder. “You look lovely, by the way.”

The corner of your lips quivered up. “Thank you, Ronnie.”

“Of course.” She laced her arms around your torso, weary about not wrinkling your dress. “You know I have a sixth sense?” 

You huffed a laugh. “Do you now?”

“I sure do. And it's saying that life with him will be a path that's full of wonder and wander. Full of winding and unwinding roads. You know all that good crap.”

“I wouldn't say it like that.”

“And you're going to march down to that archway, talk about how much you mean to one another, and get married.”

“I was going to do that from the start; it was never going to change, Ronnie.” You scrunch your face. “Was this a motivational pep talk?”

“In a way. I was buying time so they could get into position.”

You sighed out, ready to touch your hair to relax, when Ronnie smacked your hand away from it once more. One more look at the mirror, and you dazed into your own eyes, then smiled. 

“Okay, I'm ready.” You linked arms with Ronnie and headed out to a welcoming sunbeam.

Miguel was steeled to the ground. His palms were sweaty, but he didn't want to wipe them. He eyed Peter, who gave him a thumbs-up, and then the officiant, who simply offered a smile. 

The flowers decorating the arch were the same from the first time he shared a kiss with you. He fiddled with the marigold pinned to his shirt and made sure it was not damaged. Checking in the direction you were supposed to come, his mind drifted to subconscious thoughts, praying that nothing was off or if his breath smelled (he made sure to brush and gargle three times).

Before he could go any deeper, you and Ronnie emerged in full view.

Miguel couldn't breathe. He stared as you made your way to the archway, the sun, and the flowers, always adding on to your already mesmerizing glow. Every step was elegant, and his heart pounded the closer you got to him. There was no one else in the world besides him and you. 

You didn't want to seize up, but Miguel in his suit and the floral around him brought you back to the first time you ever came here. The first time he was open with you, the first time you shared your kiss. The start to where you are now. 

Extending his hand, you happily took it and drifted as close to him as you possibly were able to. You saw Ronnie take back your phone and make her way over to her side with a skip in step. Taking his free hand, you rubbed the back of it to soothe you both. “You got this. Lo conseguimos.”

“Gracias, mi Luna.”

“You two ready?” the officiant asked.

You signaled for her to begin.

“We are gathered here today on this lovely day, surrounded by one of nature's many beauties of the earth, to celebrate the love and the bringing unity of Miguel and Y/n.”

Miguel felt his eye twitch and wiped at it before going to the other.

You tried to stop the tears from leaking, but they did anyway. Time was slowing down, the officiant's words getting lost and fading into the back. It was only him.

“Eres hermosa.” Miguel mouthed.

“Eres hermoso.” You mouthed back.

The shared fondness ran deep. You wanted to stroke his face, so you squeezed his hands tighter. Miguel didn't want to wear his sunglasses because he wanted you to see every emotion. You didn't want him to strain himself, but he was insistent. With that, you checked the weather almost every day for a partly cloudy day to wed on. 

You gazed up to a perfect blend of the sky blue and the white fluff lazily covering the sky from time to time. 

You zoned back in when the officiant began the declaration. 

“I would say take each other's hands, but you both already have that filled.” The officiant cheesed. “Now, do you promise to choose each other every day, to love each other in word and feed?”

“We do.” You and Miguel nod.

“Do you promise to recognize one another as equals and support one another in your goals and wishes for the future?”

“We do.”

“Do you promise to always share your thoughts, feelings, and concerns with the other and be open and honest at all times?”

“That means no ‘thinking’ you're okay or insisting. You have that habit.” Ronnie sputtered out before pressing her lips into a thin line when all eyes were on her. “Uh, sorry. Pretend I didn't say anything.”

You huffed out a strong gust of wind and shook your head at your friend. Miguel chuckled and stole a quick kiss on your temple. “I'm here for you.”

“I know, thank you.” You grinned, and you both proudly said, “We do.”

“Miguel, you may now share your vow.”

“Mi Luna, where do I begin?” He shook your hands. “When you came into my life, it was something I never was expecting; it was a path that I thought I couldn't cross, and yet you proved it otherwise. When you allowed me to open up and gave me that space to be myself, it was all so unfamiliar. But whenever the sun and moon drifted into the horizon and the skies, or were hidden by the weeping clouds, you were there with your compassion and understanding.

You made each day feel simplistic; each minute I am around you is an eternity of peace and love that I never want to end. Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance to want to learn and grow; thank you for showing that there are people who want to be by my side,” he paused to acknowledge Peter, Ronnie, and the direction of the HQ. “That there have always been others who have been there.”

You brushed the corner of your eye, trying not to smear your makeup.

“Mi Luna, mi corazón, mi vida. Thank you for letting the marigolds and lavender pop up. Thank you for showing me these connections and values that lie beneath, waiting to grow. Te amo y nada cambiará eso jamás.”

The officiant gave you the say to recite your vow.

“You big, loveable oaf.” You laughed and sniffled. “That night we crossed paths; I wouldn't have known what was going to happen. I had days of questioning and wondering, asking myself, ‘Is all this real? Is this amazing man before me actually real?’ And yet, the more and more we got to know each other, the more I felt like I've known you for most of my life. I thought of the future with you. I want one with you. You bring in this tenderness and sentiments that always bring these connections whenever you're around. 

“The day you asked me to be your wife was a dream that fell from the light. I had to stop myself from pinching myself because if it were a dream, I wouldn't want to wake from it.”

The night he proposed is something that'll forever have a fond place in your memories.

He brought you to the park after cooking up some cinnamon waffles and playing one of the early albums you got for him. He insisted it was only for nostalgic purposes and that he only wanted to do it on the fly. You held your suspicion, and it didn't ease it when he took you out to the botanical garden and the restaurant you first ate at for dinner. You probed him with question after question until Miguel had you relax. Giving in, you leisurely went along and enjoyed the rest of the evening.

The last stop was the park. The moon was out, and a few stars were stagnant in the sky. You sat on a bench and snuggled up next to one another, loving each other's presence when Miguel made you close your eyes. He stopped you from interrogating and had you comply. You listened out for any sounds when Miguel's voice sounded far away. 

He sat across the other bench and stared right at you with those hypnotic eyes. You laughed and pointed to your own and uttered, “Crimson?”

He smiled and placed his hands in his pockets before making his way to you. He stood there for a few seconds, the orange from the streetlights and the ivory moon competing to be his spotlight. And that's when he got on one knee, and you immediately started to sob. You couldn't recall the speech (he had to retell it when you had to sedate your mind), but you remember saying ‘yes’ repeatedly.

“I love you, mi Estrella. I want to walk on that path with you. Even if it gives us twists and turns, I want to remain by your side through it all.” Your hands were getting wet, but neither of you cared. 

“You have shared your vows, the promises and love that will still flourish and blossom onwards. We witness and bless your vows for the lifetime of your marriage. May I have the rings?” The officiant turned to Peter, who handed them to her. “Thank you.”

She gave you and Miguel the rings and eyed the etched crescent moon on the inside. And on his was a star. The officiant gave the ring exchange speech to be repeated. You noticed his hand trembled when you looked up to see tears rolling down from his cheeks. Even if it was tiny, the smile was radiating, and you couldn't help but return your own beaming one, drops streaming down to your chin. 

“I, Miguel, give you, Y/n, this ring as a symbol of my love, my faith, in our strength together, and my covenant to learn and grow with you.” He placed the ring on your finger, fighting the urge to kiss your hand. 

The officiant looked at you and had you recite.

“I, Y/n, give you, Miguel, this ring as a symbol of my love, my faith, in our strength together, and my covenant to learn and grow with you.” You slipped it on and gave a quick peck to his ring finger. “I'm sorry. I, uh, I couldn't control myself.” You tittered.

“That's okay.” The officiant winked. “Before these witnesses, you both have sealed your pledge with these rings. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife; you may now kiss the- oh.”

Miguel swept you off your feet into a kiss that he put his all into. The sun warmed your skin, and so did Miguel. Your hands grazed his cheekbones, his nose, whatever your thumbs could touch. 

You were officially married, and the butterflies fluttered inside.

Going to sign your name on the certificate, you caught Miguel staring keenly at the paper. 

“Mi Estrella? ¿Estás bien?”

“Yeah, I'm just... in disbelief I get to have someone as you as my wife. That I get to have this chance at a better life.”

“Of course you deserve it, Mi Estrella. And I will never stress that enough.” You scratch his back when Ronnie yells for you to come over.

“You have other people to blab to.” She hoisted the phone to your face, to your mother gleaming in the camera and your father having a fixed glare.

“We are so proud of you!” Your mom clapped before shoving the phone in your dad's face. “Stop looking like that! You'll add more damn ridiculous than what you need. Say something to our daughter.”

“I'm glad that you are my son. Visit. Soon.” You knew that was more of a demand than a request. 

Miguel draped his arm over your shoulders and pulled you in closer. “Thank you. And we will, we promise.”

“Come on, you lovebirds. Let's get some pictures!” Peter waved his camera around, and Ronnie clapped her hands.

Peter had you two posing around the garden. He was really good at it, having you both feel relaxed and natural surrounded by nature's landscape. The officiant even took group photos of you four, and Ronnie had taken many bad selfish or gorgeous off-guard ones; there was never an in-between with her. You were given the opportunity to freely roam the garden and reminisce about the beauty when you first came here.

You didn't think it was possible for your heart to swell more, but it was proven.

“I'm proud of you, you know?” Peter patted Miguel's back. “Still ways to go, but you'll get there. Especially with her on your side.” 

They glanced over at you and Ronnie chattering away with the officiant, and Miguel was in awe at you. You always managed to hold a presence that made others feel warm, even if you weren't trying. 

“Thank you, Peter. Thank you.”

The three flocked to Peter and Miguel, and you immediately shuffled over to Miguel's side and held his hand. 

“So, we're getting food, right?” Ronnie patted her stomach loudly. “Because I can go for something right about now.”

“We did book a small section for the Asian street food restaurant.” You chimed in. “Would you like to join us? It'll be on us.” You asked the officiant.

“I would love to join, but I have another wedding to head to tonight. And I'm going to need all the rest for that one. But thank you for the offer. I wish you two nothing but these best.”

You all said your farewells to her, thanking her one final time, and watched her leave.

“Alrighty. Any more pictures you guys want to take?” Peter held up his camera.

You shook your heads in unison, your own stomach growling, indicating you're ready to chow down. You all made your way to the cars and down to the restaurant. Being greeted and checking in, you four were seated in a private booth area with barely any noise from the rest of the establishment.

Ordering an array of foods to share, Ronnie recommended for everyone to order a drink to make a toast for you and Miguel. You agreed and got a nice fruit cocktail, and Miguel stuck to a simple glass of red wine.

“This is the part where Peter and I give our thoughts and stuff.” Ronnie raised one of her rounds of shots filled with sake. “I'm going first, so Peter, you have to try and find a way to follow mine up.” She downed the drink and wiped her lips.

“I admire you both. The dedication you give to each other is insane. The way you two interact makes it seem like you have already been together for so damn long. I will never forget the day you walked into my little shop; you were so uncomfortable as hell.”

“You ogled at me for almost a minute.” Miguel piped up. 

“She did what?” You almost gave yourself a crick in your neck to look at Ronnie.

“But the moment my great employee, my amazing friend, came up to the front, I could immediately tell how smitten you were for her.” Ronnie grabs another shot. “Even though you were wearing your sunglasses, you didn't need to see to know. Then, as the days went by, the further love between you was wild. You two made each other comfortable and wanted. An absolute.” She downs the drink.

“Basically, what I'm trying to say is, you two are in love, and no matter what you'll face, no matter how big or little, or how the outcomes may come out, you will see the light within each other.” Another glass. 

Your heart fluttered, and Miguel reached for your hand. “Ronnie, thank you; that was beautiful. You're going to make me cry.” You had to get a napkin to dab at the corners of your eyes.

“Thanks. Cause I certainly know there will be lights being seen on your honeymo-”

“And now it's my turn. Certainly don't know how I could top that, Ronnie.” Peter shakenly laughed. “I'll try to make it short and sweet, because I'm starving.” He bought his wine glass close to his face.

“Miguel, I could talk about the first time you let it slip about missy over here or how you were freaking out on what date to take her on.”

You giggled at that and nudged the abashed man.

“But I'm going to say what I haven't said before: you are making your future with a person you love; continue to write your story and look back whenever you need that pick me up.” He tilted the glass toward you. “And I know you're going to let him tell his story, one page at a time. I'm so proud of you, and I will never stress that enough.”

“Gracias, Peter. Gracias Ronnie.” Miguel said. 

“Thank you two for being here for us.” You added in and beamed. 

Clinking your drinks together, the first round of food was brought out, and you guys began to chow down. You and Ronnie watched in astonishment with how much Peter and Miguel tore into the meals; even a couple of staff members were wide-eyed. Peter stayed until desert, heading back home to not keep his sick wife and child abandoned too long. Bringing you both in a bear hug, you said your goodbyes when you had to excuse yourself to answer a phone call from your parents.

Miguel kept his eyes on your figure when something jostled him out of it.

“Heya, business partner.” Ronnie plopped right by Miguel, checking to make sure you were out of earshot. “How is he doing?”

Miguel gave a side glance and leaned back with his arms crossed. “I'm not even going to entertain what you're about to say.”

Ronnie gave a hardy laugh and pretended to wipe some tears away. “Miggy, Miggy, Miggy, always the ones with the great jokes.” She sighed out and patted his back. 

The man creased his brows at your friend. He still doesn't understand how you two get along, but he tries not to question it. He decided to wait and see what she had up her sleeve for her to be acting this way. 

“Yes, Ronnie?”

The woman cleared her throat and sat up straight. “Right, no need to butter you up; you're happy and married to the love of your life, my girl. You know, Y/n.”

Now Miguel was severely lost. He had no idea where she was heading, and frankly, it frightened him some. Anything was possible when it came to Ronnie, but he was going to give that ear.

“Ronnie?”

“Okay, for real, jumping to the chase.” She sipped her cocktail and smacked her lips. “I saw the way your eye twitched when the officiant said her name. Like, sort of, how should I say? Realization?”

Miguel had to keep his composure. He swore he played it off well. “I was trying not to get too teary-eyed from the start.” To Miguel, that sounded like a reasonable explanation; no need to go further into details. And yet, he knew this was Ronnie he was dealing with.

“Okay. Fair.” 

He was shocked; it actually worked for her.

“So why the hell were you looking at the certificate with a thousand-yard stare? And don't tell me it was because you were in awe and got to marry her.”

He blinked.

“Yeah. I overheard that. So tell me… why?”

Miguel was begging you to come back any minute. He was in a frenzy, needing to find some sort of new response. No matter what he pulled out, they all were ridiculous. A voice being cleared jolted him back into reality.

There he was met with a very smug Ronnie.

“You never knew her name.”

Miguel didn't say a word. The silence screamed out, and that's when she slapped the table. 

“I knew it! It made sense why you would never say her name. I thought it was this endearing thing with the nickname, but no! That was never the case.” Ronnie glanced back and went right back to Miguel.

He was embarrassed. His face hidden behind his face in full fledged shame. “Do not tell her. I'll never be able to live it down if she finds it.”

“Oh my God, holy hell. You went through hell and back; you're living with her; you put a ring on it, and you never once bothered to try and learn her fucking name?” 

“Ronnie, por favor! I beg of you, please don't bring it up.” His voice was at the lowest it could go; his cheeks flushed.

“Oh, I won't.” Ronnie said.

Miguel exhaled greatly and leaned back in the booth. “Gracias, Ronnie. I feel like an idiot for never bothering to learn. No puedo creer que realmente hi-”

“Unless you do something for me.” She folded her hands on the table.

“I should've known. I should've known better.” Miguel mumbled and dragged his hands down his face and sighed loudly. “Are you seriously about to blackmail me? You know that's illegal.”

“You call it blackmailing; I call it investing in a long-term business.” She swept her hand in the air, stars in her eyes. 

Miguel wondered if it wouldn't be too bad if you knew he didn't exactly learn your name. He started to weigh the pros and cons when Ronnie tapped the table.

“I will give details on what I would like in return soon enough. I do want you to enjoy your day with your lovely wife.” She gestured to you strolling back in with a giant grin and sparks when you saw Miguel.

“So what were you two chatting about?” You slid next to Miguel and snuggled your body on his.

“How good the meal was and how you two are very much made for each other.”

You were slightly lost, but chalked it up to Ronnie being Ronnie. After leaving the restaurant and Ronnie stealing one more photo of you two on her phone, she drove you two back to your apartment, where you and Miguel slumped on the couch. 

“So, Mr. O'Hara?” You scooted over to him. 

“Yes, Mrs. O'Hara?” He wrapped his arm around you.

“How about we get out of these clothes?”

“Mhm.”

“Take a nice, long, steamy shower.” You rubbed his chest. 

“Mhm?” He took your hands and kissed them. 

“And get some rest?” 

“Yes, please. Having to endure Peter and Ronnie's nonsense was a lot,” he smiled and put his lips to your ring. “But I would do it over and over, knowing I would get to marry my moon and relive this day.”

“Wouldn't you rather do it once so we can make new memories for the future?”

He chuckled. “Is that your way of saying you wouldn't want to be stuck in that loop?”

“... Maybe.” You gave a cheesy smile and leaned in to kiss him. “I love you dearly, mi Estrella.”

“Y te amaré por siempre, mi Luna.”