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the-toxic-tarot-reader · 2 days ago

Text

Hey Sexies,

Sex Life Pick A Pile Reading 18+

Divider credits - @cafekitsune

So this is sexual life read, I know you can already see so many goddamn paragraphs in front of you, but trust me its just me holding space for you guys, cause I know triggers and I want you all to take your time before grabbing all your eggs in the basket. Be patient and remain calm as this reading is not meant for everyone.

To all my queer babies, I am straight person, please hold some space for me, this read is open to imagination, add fingering, anal, toys wherever you like. Consider this as your own personal space.

Also just a little request and heads up, this reading came into fruition because of not just me but your energy as well. Thank you for coming here, and bringing your energy, just want to say that do not direct your sexual energies in my direction. Its your energy, you can use this reading to spruce up your imagination, but be mindful of directing it towards me. I have heard and experienced many cases of evil eye, toxic tarot readers and energy harvesters already. I just need you to be mindful of where you direct your sexual energy to.

Minors Do Not Interact, and seriously I am very serious about this, your impressionable minds really shouldn't be reading this.

If you are in an abusive relationship currently, please do not engage with my reading today.

The series of pile reading can contain a lot of talk about rough play and bdsm. This can be triggering for some and also highly manipulative for others especially if you are someone obsessed with Divine Feminine or Divine Masculine, I don't want you to tolerate some sort of sexual advances that can be highly abusive to you, yet you make-believe yourself through this read that abuse masked as love is what a divine partner would do to you. Also this is no double standard against all such people who believe in those things, but this is a reading about sex life not your typical future spouse reading, so do not come here with a rope of expectation of one person only, its a sex life read so there can be many people.

Also for people who know and understand their sexual style, but had only one person as their past relationship who ended up being abusive to you, the people channeled here aren't them, they can be your future partners or you yourself, but if it does feels like them, I would like you to take a break and hold some space for yourself, and understand what state of mind you are in right now, if you still feel like your sexual preference is something that's actively controlled by this abusive person in your mind's reality, then please pause and take a break from this read.

And for others who didn't have any past abusive partners yes specific people did came through, but they can be referred to more than one person. Also this read is meant to be an appreciation of your sexual nature than what people expect of you, be very mindful of the difference between labelling and resonating. This reading is not meant to justify abuse done by degenerates, so be very mindful of that.

How does your eating style affect people?

Pile 1 -----> Pile 2

Pile 3------> Pile 4

Pile 1

You make them question, who they are, what their type actually is, cause whatever you and your type is, it is something they didn't know they wanted it until you came into their life. Their dick/pussy wants to tell them how much they like it, but their heart and minds, can't seem to agree. But the greed, the instant heat once they see you, they go feral, they hate you but that's what they like about it, you make them go crazy and wanna fuck you like bonkers, hooters if anything else. They wanna fuck you so hard that they make themselves surge or trick you in their dungeon through kindness just to fuck you rough. I heard "fallen grace". they wanna make you fall from grace, you can be an angel to everyone on the outside, but they want to taint, make addicted to their cock/pussy sex. They could be gossipers, would crave to taste your mouth and every word you say, they would tattle tales on you, confide in you in silence. Would never accept the pull and their lust for you, but want to fuck you so hard right now. If they could keep fucking till the night ends, they will. They fall for you so abruptly.

"You make me wanna do you more"

Your eating style is the one they do when you fight, rough, evasive, sending pleasures and thrills down the throat kind. They want to rough fuck your face every single time you get angry at them. Their dick/ pussy wants you growling at them. Don't get me wrong, if you need any help or don't have a place to stay, they are more than likely to take you in their humble abode but with their own agenda in mind and you know what that is. They want you to shower in front of them, N-A-K-E-D. All clothes lying on floor. Sitting on their dining table, with you and all of you in front of them, they wanna savor it, eat it cause its so divine. "Ah ha! So Divine". They are swimming in pleasure.

Your tongues is a gateway to Divine, the power source, that's what they feel for you. You re-energise them, give them back this energy they never felt in all those years of their life. You are their light. Ever since you left them, they are wondering where is all my energy gone, not realizing it was you re-energizing their energy.

My heart's on the line

We've got an audience

I'm running, I'm running

You're the moon and I'm the tide"

Liam Miller's Love and Devotion

Seems you ran back to them after some break up or chaos and immediately the friction is sensed, you both are embroiled in an argument, the heat takes over, nothing can stop this anymore..... this breakup sex is all you need. I see them sitting on one legged rotating chair, a sofa or couch or even a seat in theatre, you block their view, sit on or in front of their face while they are watching something important, block their view, now they are pissed and blast, fucking starts, it doesn't matter if everyone in the theatre is looking, you are pounding or getting pounded on by them, and they won't stop till you cum or make them cum......

Some of you embody that slender eyed Jennifer Wingett beauty, so seductive, so sexy, yet so graceful, men want to make you fall from that grace, to see that inner baddie within you. They love you in your sarees if you own any. A lot of songs came through from this person, you or they could be pianist, singer, musician. Dang there are weird stepsister concept roleplay you or they could be into. You will always be their muse, no matter what you say. It gives me a lot of cat energy, Ashlesha, Dhanishtha, Purva Bhadrapada and Punarvasu could be significant. This could traced back if you knew your birth time. Cow yoni, Uttara Phalguni and Uttara Bhadrapada could be significant. I am getting all the Uttara nakshatra, including Uttara Ashadha, I feel like you guys are result oriented people.

And maybe they like that about you, that you start what you finish no matter how much they try to hold back ecspecially when they are holding back their cum.

"I have heard, I have heard this too many times, you are just so beautiful and whimsical, you bring me the daylight, I'm afraid of your love and devotion, I'm afraid for your love, Take heaven and back to hell"

This is Liam Miller's song but I kind of changed it to express their feelings. This is what's happening with them, they push and pull with your energy. You are someone so out of their league that they can't even define it. Its something else, they are not the type to feel this way about anyone, but you are such a charming suave, they are vehement over you, in a competitive way. They have never seen someone sway or completely outshine them the way you do. So they are charmed and alarmed by you at the same time. Now someone's name could be Bai Lu and also Bai Lu is a stunning actress from China. Just like her, your work ethic is incomparable and you stand out not only as a beauty but your work as well. They could be so jealous, obsessive yet smitten by you all at the same time. "You did something to them", they are so tragically in love with you . They described you as HOT, whimsical, studious and re-energizing at the same time. You have this young Maiden's energy, always curious, like a butterfly, flying from one poppy flower to another. Now poppy flower has opium in it, so I feel like your taste or addictions change rapidly. They desire to be one of them. All your ex's might want you so bad, yet cannot openly say it, its cause you choose them, they want to be chosen by you. And that's why there's this vehemency being directed at you. People can try to be forceful with you at times only satisfy their ego and themselves only to realize, you won't even choose them. Your skills outshine their talents so you power play your way up the top to keep egoistic fools from dimming your light by outsmarting them.

You are really playful and casual with your energy as well and people either hate it or love it, but something about someone like you who feels so much pressure from people around you for seeming so intimidating 🙄to them, not that you actually are, this energy of casualness adds its charm to you. You make it look so simple and easy when its a lot of work. People see this and underestimate your power and then get played by their ego, hurt themselves and then take their anger out on you which isn't fair to you. And sometimes it reflects on your sexual life as well where the ones who treat you right (not the abusive ones) find you so elusive and playful to the point that they may replace or try to find someone like you to blow them down there, cause insecurity gets them, their fear of you leaving them, makes them want to find the same joy you used to give through someone else so they can pretend to their hearts that they never lost you. Your seduction is something else, people would literally want to be seduced by you

I think your mere presence in people's life fills them up with energy, after you decide to walk away, they feel and understand the loss of you in your absence. Also I saw a disturbing presence when I came back to end the rest of your reading. It was a zombie like figure, trying to stop my work. Be careful of sucking dead people with no emotions or understanding of orgasm or intimacy who may try to belittle your human experiences. Plus I couldn't pull my cards in this energy, literally feels like your tricks to do the sexual things you do are being hidden away, to protect your energy or to restrict you, idk.

Its like all the cards came face down. I guess they don't want you to know how your eating style affects them..... they feel ashamed of being left by you and honestly that's their insecurity, all we can do is hold space for such people, that's it.

Literally your energy is so flighty, that people might try to stop your work, eat your brain, use your impatience against you to keep you looping or make you repeat the same task one hundred times just to keep you circling around them. Be careful of making risky or bad deals with people who don't like you and want to see you grow old running around a cubicle. Your energy is super movement and growth oriented and people might feel ashamed and bullied to get distracted by you and your energy, unable to let you go, while you are already moving on. For one they deeply crave you despite trying to hide their shame cause some of them despise your move-on energy as well.

Songs : SZA - BIG BOY

Pile 2

I am immediately channeled "Be humble, sit down be humble". You make them weak on their knees, they cannot sit, walk, stand or get up after getting fucked or oral by you. You weaken them. They need every single part of you, eyes, thighs, body or mind, everything sitting on them or inside them (if its a women). They want you, just now, then, 2 days ago, yesterday in between conversations with their friends. If I say they want you every single day within them, or them in you, I won't be lying. Though they have matured from that phase, they still want you. New Woman by Lisa coming through. They wanted to hug you while sneakily sliding your cock or pussy in them so bad, I'm sure they would do it to you. I am hearing a disappointed "That's a phase, I'm sure", but I think and feel that this is short sighted view on your or their part (maybe they are trying to convince themselves) but they are not sure how convincing you, your essence, heart, body and mind is to their mind. Cause I'm getting that if they had a basement, they would very likely kidnap you and keep you there, they would do it. Its giving wind you down concept to me. The ending scene of "Hidden Face" the Korean version comes to mind, where a women is trapped in what seems like a bdsm dungeon to pleasure the other women's needs. They would do witchcraft on your internal organs if necessary just to lock you in (extremely weird now) . They are so so obsessed with you. They would like their soul to be drawn within you and your sacred space.

The heart that you hold for them though is everything they have ever cherished, as you let them do whatever they like, love them regardless of who they are, they will want to come back and rekindle this love relationship with you, if its an ex . If its an already existing relationship, they are someone who can't wait to lay their eyes on you, head rest on you, or simply fuck you every single morning while looking in the eye before going back to work. I'm getting bareback fucks while you are sleeping to wake you up cause they love you so much, and they want to keep fucking you day and night, early morning to night. I am hearing "they insist, its a request so please comply with/within me", before you say yes or no to their sweet request they are already within you, talk about sex starved but I think they are starved for you. I think they are constantly trying to request you to let them fuck you, but maybe you try to evade their request or fail to complete your tasks to materialize this request especially when they are craving you all day and all night long. They are trying so hard to evade your questions just to jump in right next to you and....... you girl, you are avoiding, maybe you fear you will pass out, after having taken all of their requests.

It just feels like sex triggers some self love and self hate in you and your intution often gets kicked in a back burner , oh wait I just realized, you were the one coming with this be humble energy, this other energy that often gets humbled so often in the relationship and is fleeing is also you. So maybe you lose a lot chunk of confidence in playing submissive roles in sex plays. So maybe there's some identity crisis going here, maybe its you who is not able to see or understand your own highly divine energy, you kinda fumble it, and make a mess cause you are so rooted to believing that you are the fumbled one, that (you.... strangely enough you don't see, how badly you fumbled with this one right here. ) Ok let me explain what happened right there, you mistake your partners as people who are messing with you or fumbling you, when its you who hasn't accepted the sexual side that comes out of you, and then you blame your partners for bringing that side out of you. Now I am getting the message that while fumbling with your own energy, you mistook them as some sort of perpetuator for bringing this side within you.

Cause they are strong, smart, sought after by many people out there and everything that you ever looked for. I also think you are kind of trapped in your head and aren't able to feel your own confident and dominant side despite having it all within you, I think you are trapped in this submissive receiving connoisseur energy, which isn't bad in it of itself, but it kinda makes you feel emasculated or no fun, did you get what I mean. Its because you aren't participating in the sexual act itself but just getting accepted too get used by somebody. I just feel like you aren't actually receiving anything because you aren't asking for it, you are just taking what is being given to you and then this person comes, gives you what you asked for and you are left speechless..... cause they brought out YOU. I think its the fact that this person is so much like you in their confident side in so many ways that you not being able to resist or say no to them and the familiarity plus love they bring into the relationship feels like binding to you which you feel is directed towards you by them, which in turn makes you feel like they are manipulating you when its all you in your head. You know how some tarot readers and weird Christians say that "The enemy doesn't want me to succeed" type shit when its them who didn't prepare, plan or show up when its time for them to do so. They just want to shift the blame to others, that is exactly what has happened to you, you love them, but are dead scared of the commitment or the idea of following through the next steps of "falling in love". You shift the blame onto them, for loving you, overthinking that they were manipulating, scheming or plotting something behind your back. Babe, you just can't handle the sweetness, (only applicable for healthy relationships of course)

You may end up confusing your own submissiveness with you being unsafe, rather than understanding that your willingness to submit is not you being manipulated but you feeling safe. Feeling safe could feel alarming to you guys. This seems like a trigger mechanism, but they like and love it whenever you deep throat and choke on their dick, and then start crying, I think they won't like to force you, but your vulnerability, your emotions is something they wanted to see for long.

I think they love it when you kiss their lips after choking on their cock like that. They love the taste of your lips covered in their juices. I think given how you give into their demands like that, they would like to choke you every single day, but since this is towing to your energy, and if you haven't recovered from your past traumas, they might remind you of some brutality in your past, (for some people they could have suffered childhood abuse in a church or temple or mosque, or some holy place by some priest, that specifically came through in here.) but I think something about their energy, make you rewrite this traumatic sexual history as a loving memory of being consensually choked by your partner. They replace shit memories with love.

Also this is what I mean when I said you fumble your divine energy yourself, and mistake it for this person fumbling you for this divine energy which might be true, but this person isn't betraying you or liking your sexual energy over you, but they like and love you for you, its just you really didn't even know who you really are, and this energy of yours is so good at receiving and knows of her worth to ask for what she deserves rather than being used by everyone, they truly see you for who you are, a beautiful serpent is how they would define you. Too humble, finishes last, always loves them despite anything or everything, they have started loving themselves through you. But I think you still keep telling yourself that this gentle not so warrior like soul isn't you, cause you don't trust that instinct. You are so honed into your warrior like energy due to your survival mechanism, you kinda think that gentle soft person inside is the fake bitch you often pretend to be to appear promising individual in front of others, but in reality your inner self is just as kind, forgiving, humble and loving as that, you just don't seem to realize it, cause you never got to live like yourself, since you were constantly kept in survival mode environments. That's why this pile is getting too long, cause you are too wrapped up in your self doubt

And they think you also know less about yourself, sometimes lesser than they do. I am also getting that you choke them while kissing, they are screaming and gasping for breath in my channeling. "Girl you left me breathless". Maybe for some of you lilith or sun or, mars in leo or scorpio placement or venus or atmakarka in 12th or 8th house They don't know you much but you don't know yourself either, but you don't even see, maybe even despise seeing your own divine energy, which makes you someone who plays hide and seek with themselves and run away at the sight whatever you think your inner divine energy is like, which I think seems like someone very unproductive, lazy, fake bitch to many of you, due to the nuanced layer of other people's opinion. I think more people who have loved you wish you were gentler to yourself, you aren't seeing yourself rightly my love, that's why while starting this read, their energy clashed and came similar to yours, because you tend to take shape and copy people's energy bully yourself into letting their thoughts shape your inner value and worth. You are a very gentle person, rahu in 12th or 4th house, rahu in chitra nakshatra, gemini in 12th house. Gemini, Libra, Pisces and Rahu are energies that try to copy others and emulate them to transmute that energy for themselves. So you really lose a sense of yourself, while picking up their energy which continues to love you for you and start conflicting with that energy of love, thinking they love you for another alter ego or personality which you think isn't even the real you but its the gentleness they fall for, the one which you dismiss, disregard, and throw away ruthlessly. This is a necessary change they would like to see within you, and they personally would like you to see and cherish this part within yourself

Gosh what changes would you like to see within yourself now that you see the world within yourself collapse? How would you love you, not them, you, not them but you? Read that again. What is it that you want to do for yourself? Read that again to enjoy yourself, as many times as you like. You are not bad for having desires, if reading my post is getting you off, just do it. But make sure to direct that energy to yourself while appreciating how dang true this is to your energy and how much you love it for its experience. I'm just a writer, not a sexual energy harvester, so let me let you know that I'm so thankful and honored for this energy, thank you so much. But if this is getting you off, just say I love me to yourself. Don't direct all that energy towards me(your tarot reader). All right then, Blessings be. Goodbye

Channeled Song : Lauren Aquilina - King

My humble advice give an ear to this song

Pile 3

First of all you all are so good holding conversations. Next you are sensitive and can sense people's needs and take care of them, ( especially at night 😈), your person wants to come through so bad, their laugh or jokes could remind you of youtuber Tanmay Bhatt. Dolly Bindra coming through as well. I feel you guys are so fun and eclectic to be around. You guys are definitely people on the chubbier side. First things first, you guys are sooooooo good, like the way your energy was so straight forward and good to me for no reason. You are soo organized and well prepared, you help people stay organized and give them solid advice if anything else. You guys could be very intuitive, Thank you for interacting with my energy🙏, happy to help the way you do (intuitively)!

I'm already getting a miss perfectionist tendency from you, argumentative when things aren't written in succinct manner, Very mindful, Very demure, Very Virgo, Very Libra energy coming through. Like I do by cover by Jay Park coming through...

First of all they are happy with you, if that's one of your complaints and bigger doubts in this relationship (cause seems like some of you are currently in one, ) yes it is arguably one of the happiest relationships to them no matter how much you guys argue or go home without each other sometimes (not tryna gaslight you, but if someone abusive is leaving you all alone to fend for yourself this is not your reading, I am talking about two people giving each other space not ghost treatments,) , its always love in this relationship, however someone in this relationship maybe be busy and failing to return calls. {Okay that specifically wanted to come through for someone here}

Dang, chubby or not, you all are my big butt ladies and gentlemen, (the name Peter could be significant) they love it when you wear those pink color corsets or blouse, take it how it resonates, and let them grab you by your hair and let them keep their dicks down your throat choking you while you cry from it, while your sweet angel face makeup and mascara washes down your face. They love clicking your pictures in front of mirror while your butt and back faces the mirror and they are deep down your face. They love flashing you off. Biggest marry me signs are ("your tongue" is what I heard them say) your after care rituals, like you love your partners and give them this beautiful clean job, maybe you use very different yet useful techniques to get them off, and ("AAAAAAAAH", the sigh of relief) its so refreshing and amazing at the same time. Armpit jobs could be a thing. I'm getting a very youthful or lolita face but an energy of bold, mature and confident women. I'm also getting a lot of Magenta and different shades of pink. I'm getting Sigrid, a European singer who sang the song Mirror. Also give me someone with appearance of with Nana Osaki's with Nana Komatsu's vibe profile from anime NANA. You are so full of life!!. New Orleans could be significant.

Dreamy, dreamlike, your ways of eating them out and sucking them dirty makes them so horny even if its in their dreams, it makes them so hornyyyyyy. Like girl what are you doing to them? Its invasion of dreams, if there was a dream police, they could have got you handcuffed on their couch for this crime, and you know to do what to you again and again. COWGIRLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Oh man girl you invade their thoughts keeeping them stuck in their workplace, not able to move from their chair cause they go blank or your thoughts distracts them maybe mid-meeting people catch them daydreaming about you, the day passes, work doesn't finishes cause they were still casually daydreaming about you. Girl you could have been or are there workplace employee and I heard that you keep their work hanging. They def want to take you backstairs and fuck your guts in the back room. "I think they call this love" is coming through, all they dream about is your eyes, all they long for is your touch.......

Sheesh girl and you are a keeper. You are worth it, you are their luck, their charm. I feel like people feel dominated by you without you even trying to dominate them, they want you to be their mommy, if you are a daddy they would want you to breed them just by the lick of that tongue. Its soooooo good. I'm also kind of getting that you are such a daddy material, people will want to marry just after having rounds with you, not realising you were just dating around. I feel like people are far more serious about marrying you than you would even give thought to.

Okay this specific pile has different message for both men and women, For men, your partners want you to dominate them, not only do you dominate them well, they think you are a golden opportunity to have sex with. They adore you, and value this cas(ex)ual friendship with love. You are such a giver to them. Maybe you guys have stack of sugar babies to choose from. Not objectifying your partners here, you just like to spend luxuries on them. "You are fetch" - mean girls

Man you are such a catch! They feel like you are onto marrying them just because you spend cash on them. Damn! you have such an affect on them, you treat them like no one has ever treated them before, Your lovers may have a tendency to dogpile over you, lets just say part of it is also because of the way you eat, its not just your money. You make your partners go crazy over you. Damn!!!!! And they don't even realize that that's just your dating style not you being serious enough to get married to them

For women, your partners melt over you, they feel like they are melting on your tongue, every bloody damn single time, you are so soft, so gentle, yet so motherly, people wanna give up their everything and melt in your softness. They love getting that mommy domination by you. You are worth everything their money, their favours, your partners want you to shower so much love on them, like they love it when you invest your time, energy and love on them. "Can you please keep giving them more?" Girl everybody is mental over you!

Now take that man energy as your masculine side and women energy as your feminine side cause I'm getting that you are invading dreams for people who would like to spend their money on you and you make the people who you spend your fortune on a fucking nutcase! like people think you are an invasion regardless. Some might feel so locked in your thoughts, they may feel like hiding from you, cause your thoughts drain their energyy or kinda keep them stuck everywhere in life. Its as if these people could blame you for invading their privacy, when all you did was look at them from an end of the street or a corner of the room. Sheeeshhhhh!!!!!

Listen whoever you guys are, give me some tips if you chose this pile.

Yikes, though you need to be careful, some people might get depressed and feel like they can't have any better in their life, and might get so sad of the rest of the options in front of them. Like you usher a huge change into people's lives, its as if they want to change themselves to be better and worthy of you or sometimes in some cases I feel like they don't see any end to this misery of being rejected by you, so some succumb to suicide? Dang! wtf, sheeesh!!!! That's a lot coming through.....

I had a girl in my hostel who was often plagued by the thoughts of causing someone's suicide just because her boyfriend rejected a girl and chose her, the girl ended up doing suicide, cause the guy rejected her. This could be the case for some of you, be careful out there, never blame yourself for someone deciding to do something wrong over their own incapability to handle the rejection. It was so scary, the situation scared the fuck out of anyone who heard of the start of their love story. I also had a cousin whose lover threatened to kill himself if she ever broke up with him. She was so scared of her own boyfriend. My god! be careful of crazyysss.

I heard, "You are the cure, You are the pain", dang pile 3, that's a scary level of jumpscare of a channeled words coming through from the trail of broken hearts that you have left behind. Honestly its somewhat scary.

Oh now I know why I took such a long break from you and your pile. Your type of pile is scarily beautiful. Idk if there are any other words to describe that. Like I was getting so much headache from the start of this pile. I think you get a headache from the affect you have on other people ! My oh my! I confess, I too once had a huge obsession with a guy, and man the way I was scared to death of being rejected and refused by him. Though I never explicitly told him of this obsession of mine, he got to know about it, and once he saw all that I had been hiding, I had to change to be a better person to give myself all that validation to myself his mere presence would do to me, cause my ego was so hurt, knowing someone as powerful as me could feel like she was on her knees just because of some random dude's stare (how much someone was giving to me without giving much effort to it.) Like all the breadcrumbs were more than enough for me, I secretly wanted more, but I never told him, he gave me more (let's just say he gave me good loving, but I wasn't comfortable with it cause I was in a state of lack myself), I got scared and ran away. Starved myself from him, his kindness and healing energy not realising it was all that minimum he gave me that got me obsessed with his kindness and then realised that it was something I had to give to myself. I was starving myself of my own love, cause I was so normalised to lack.

Dang!!!! Trust me I had to take a whole lot of years of adulting to get over him, and I still kinda struggle with his thoughts cause Iam still so out of touch with myself.

Trust me, people go through a transformation after meeting you. Maybe you guys are 8th house stelliums, I had a 8h synastry with this dude. I am the house person. I think you have had people who secretly want to be you, just because they don't see or value themselves, they end up seeing all their value in you or through emulating you. Also I am seeing that you guys can have a habit of uglifying yourself, cause when you have stalkers this strong, oh god, creepos can't leave unless you make them, but sorry that doesn't works, even if you try to be ugly, it doesn't work. People will always remain obsessed with you regardless. I'm sorry to be the bearer of the creep alert news, but you will have to accept it, I understand its a curse that comes with someone like you, but this is the reality. Some of these unhealed individuals will forever remain your creepy stalkers. Sorry.....

Lots of words like Paparazzi, zombie chasing meme, their rampant memories, Them making rampant and crazy rage run behind YOU , AAAAAAAAAAAH, RUUUUUUUNNNNN,

Another one of your affect is, people know and are aware of the truth you bring, they are aware that they need to heal, and that they lost you in a competition of lovers who were competing for your love. Its as if their minds know the truth yet they are in so much denial, its cause, they haven't started working on themselves yet, so once they start doing inner work to see themselves and provide themselves for what they really want, they will be able to detach their feelings for you, as they will be able to provide that blissful feeling for and to themselves on their own without your help. People who haven't come to this realisation might literally do give up anything for you, their home, parents, betray any rule, system, or government, kill for you type of themes coming through here. Dang!!!!

Also you are hella mysterious, like there can be some manipulative tendencies to you, like you are good at hiding your hands while playing the game, so you know exactly what is it that people are starving for from you in a relationship. So suppose you want something, you will stop giving morning kisses to your lover, till they bring you what you want. You leave them begging for more.....

Whew! Aren't you taking too much space! Sorry the pile below you is pretty shy when it comes to dirty talking, so they are tryna escape, and they are telling me to give you more info. Sorry pile 3, don't wanna bore you with so many paragraphs, gotta confront pile 4. Both of your piles are very mysterious yet deeply private about your sex lives, so some of you might have felt drawn towards pile 4. I'm also hearing that pile 4 don't want to confront themselves and their sexual energy so they fled to this pile to feel better about themselves. Sorry for taking so much space. Thank you for holding space for pile 4 and letting people hide under your dominant aura (Sun exalted, Sun Nakshatras, and Leo coming through) , but I am sorry, its time to confront pile 4, I mean get Pile 4 to FUCK or get FUCKED , so thank you so much pile 3, I'll be signing off your energy.

Thank you for you time Goodbye

Channeled song : Yung Kai - Blue and Mad Tsai - Boys Beware

Pile 4

Ok you guys are soooooo shy, damn! like don't you wanna date somebody. What is this relationship abstinence for? I am just saying don't overdo it, if its something you would like to change in future, otherwise you can stay in your comfort zone. I am also getting some of you have given up on love already cause life has been so disheartening. I think the affect that you have on people for now is your hardness towards them in love as a subjective matter. I am also getting some of you started off relationships as minors and were abused a lot during those years. Sorry if this happened to you. Being closed off to feeling vulnerable with others/ or going into a relationship might seem like a distant dream to you now. I am so sorry for this experience. Hope you are doing well

Megan Trainor's Dear future husband is coming through. People who have been entranced by you and got affected were like "Take me on a date, I deserve it babe, don't forget the flowers, every anniversary, cause if you treat me right, I'll be the perfect wife, buying groceries, buy-buying groceries". For women, I think people feel this pull towards you like you are the perfect wife once they get to know you better and wanna take you out on so many dates.

You know, I couldn't do this read for a while, like the only card I could pull was 7 of cups in reverse and then the energy just changed, like I felt this weird headache for no reason. Idk. But just as the reading says what your energy is like, 7 of cups in reverse is practical vibes. You are very practical when it comes to your sex life and dating. Nevertheless the practicality of dating scares you to the point and extreme you can't describe as you are afraid of letting people get to know the real you, as you have a fear that they will make you beg for them, their love and affection on your knees . I also heard scream, so there can be some masochistic affection patterns that you don't want to repeat. Be careful, take it how it resonates, but I think they could make you desperate and leave you screaming for more affection which is why you try to mask cause you guys are painfully shy and sensitive to people hurting you.

Also the fact that I had to mention which cards I pulled out which I never did in any of the other piles kind of tells me that you guys are fact based. Idk Kama Sutra, book text to bed vibes coming through. Like you guys could be the type to buy books on how to give blowjobs and apply them in real life, and the rest is history. I think you are very experimentative in bed, kinky and stuff, but always trying to do things and learn your partner and their preferences rather than learning your own, I'm also getting that you are fast learner as well. But idk, why but like I got this energy of assumptions, its as if you assume that the people you engage with are using you, rather than deeply entwining themselves into you. The star card and judgement came in reverse, so I can say that this is an energy not feeling deeply understood but more of a energy that assumes everyone around them is here to waste their time/ or just use sex and their body as a coping mechanism from the stresses of life. This type of assumption based thinking could be due to you trying harder to understand others to please than understanding yourself, leading to friction and conflict between you and your partner.

Though there's so much dedication in learning something new about sex/connecting with people even while trying out what you learnt in those books but it feels harder when applied to people in real life as you assume people nowadays don't like to stay to be known, seen or recognized for their vulnerability, and sex has become more of a way to seek validation or attention, so you may feel as if intimacy and depth of connection that is usually experienced by people during sex is lacking, so maybe the expectations of getting the same bookish hot, steamy, sexy romance are lost. Now I am not attempting to call your desires to be bookish , but it kinda feels like you were set up for disappointment, also this issue could also be due to you not wanting to change yourself to suit other people's need, not realizing that you actually feel more comfortable pretending to be someone else than letting people see the real you, so you kinda blame people for expecting you to change yourself when all they want is to change your habit of closing off yourself.

So you kinda assume that people don't really like the real you when you don't allow people to see you for who you really are but instead pretend to be someone else to get to know them better and then assume that they want to change the entirety of you when all they really want is for you to open up once they find out that you were pretending to be someone else in front of them the whole damn time. So when you finally find the one, who calls you out on your pretense and is still good towards you and wants to still fall in love with you, you drive them away for its hurts your ego to be seen, and their interest in you to fall into you feels scary to you despite knowing those feelings might be genuine, cause you are scared that once they get to know the real you, they might leave.

But also I want to call you out on this, with peace and love, Stop checking and fact basing everything about sex (also stop checking your phone so much ) and just enjoy sex the way it is. Its like you often and always question and base your sexual knowledge on hard facts, instead just go and do the act! Someone's age here could be 31 or they were born on the 31st.

Just fuck and go with the flow... why you breaking my flow and so resistant and frigid to change and confrontation (trust me that can be your partner coming through for some of you). Its like feeling your own emotions is such a big deal to yall. It sorta gets me real angry how you all want to refer the book for everything, even want me to refer to tarot card meanings, my god, just do the first thing that comes in your mind. Please stop being so overly rational.

Life doesn't always works that way. And I can already channel you pulling a "Seriously?" in disbelief because you are unaware and spirit literally wants to knock some sense into y'all or "Please don't scold me anymore" despite being aware of this and still choosing to ignore it and acting as if I am being irrational, but sometimes life doesn't makes sense and it doesn't have to make sense. You don't need to get rational, logical answers outta everything, stop being a pesky brat, seriously. I know and understand you are the types who don't want accept life just as it is cause you are scared of losing your passion and drive for life but daddy/mommy look, you can't just rebel without a strategy in your head, and accepting the situation doesn't mean allowing the environment to do whatever it pleases with us, it means understanding that the more you stay like the same person you were yesterday, life will keep feeling hard to you, life will keep hardening you so you ought to stop getting pissed at life being hard and calmly face it and plan a strategy to fix it. Now that's what healing and accepting life looks, it does not mean settle for less. It means making more despite what life not going your way.

You guys might be a Sugar Daddy/Mommy archetype. Some of you could be into fairies or ethereal stuff or dreamt of flying high in sky/ UFO's/ Aliens/ Extraterrestrial Life/future aeronautical/aerospace engineers, or just people trying to build levitating or floating cars using electromagnetic repulsion with built in magnets in cars or roads, or astronauts or engineers and data collectors of NASA, data miners all of these professions coming.

Yes Healing just means something as small as not getting pissed when your co worker messes up and calmly feeling the feeling of disappointment and moving on and making new plan by not giving into anger and frustration as that is a waste of time, and calmly getting work done saves time. I am also getting that you are a very time bound person (even in sex). I am also feeling like I am the one getting triggered despite handing out this advice, so I'm sorry. But this feels like genuine anger like IDK why you guys give me this chill pill slow motion vibes, this reminds me of my soul tribe. Like these are the same issues I go through at times....

Your eating style can feel inexperienced but also a bit forceful, its like sex doesn't flow in your life, it is structured, very air and earth sign energy as opposed to water sign energy coming through. Ok it seems like you or your partners could feel like they will have to force themselves onto you for you experience the pain, they love the noises, moans and sexy faces you make when you sit on them, they want to steal you like that. The moment I adjusted my energy to see you in your light, I was finally able to see how the cards meant to say you are complete within yourself, yet you feel so incomplete because of other people's words and feelings about the way they would like to release or express their feelings. Maybe because your previous partners were a bit of masochists and loved to give you pain, you kinda feel like you deserve it? which by the way includes unjust services ,ambushing someone against their will, abuse, beating and turning you into a coward incapable of being independent on your own. Which is messed up, stop being in this energy and practice safer rough sex with cool people not abusive idiots.

Like there are 2 things that are coming through, first its very symbolic how you all are pile 4, cause you embody this essence to leave people completely satisfied yet you feel so unworthy within yourself in your lower mindset state, you feel this constant need to be more refined in a sexual manner, (its like your perfectionist tendencies are killing the vibe of raw, wild and unrefined sex) that your own mindset of not being good enough is killing your own pleasure. I am also seeing this bullying energy of feeling shame in yourself. Please report these bully of yours, I hope you have already done that before engaging with my reads

You know what I am getting pile 4, you might have meandered around pile 3, but this energy is so different, like I also feel like you guys could have went as far as to exchange destinies or places with pile 1 or pile 3 to feel enough within yourself, cause these 2 piles were the only ones who weren't coaxed by me, pile 2 also had to learn somethings about themselves, but seems like you don't want to be the pile that wants to learn about their own sexual preferences or love options anymore, you have kind of accepted the abuse, this world has given to you, which is so sad. I'm really very sorry that you had to go through this. But there are better things in life, and maybe right now you are in a break, but there's always something better to look for. You just haven't seen it yet.

Its like you were in this energy of "I know I am doing it right" , didn't listen to your partner's suggestions, turned them off, they left you and then met someone abusive who at least didn't reject you but tore you to pieces and shattered you but because this abusive person stays with you, at least this loyalty (that's secretly boosting your ego) is what you now call LOVE. See that's what's blocking my energy right now. I am also getting you guys could be Filipina or from Fiji or Phillipines.

See even if you feel you are doing it right, I feel like you don't even know or understand what you are doing right, there's this lingering energy of getting assaulted as a child, I feel like you don't know or understand what you like or prefer in sex cause instead of trying to be satisfied, you are so full focused on trying to please others and seeking validation and overthinking that your smexual style leaves people unsatisfied because of which you go towards abusive people who groom you more into thinking like baby or a stunted adult so that you can give up the last of your autonomy to access your own sexual pleasure. Only because you don't want to accept the fact that you leave some people unsatisfied, your ego makes you go towards people who stunt your thinking capabilities, wow "Dumb ways to die" coming through. You thinking is a sign of life in humans, once you stop thinking, it means you are dead. So you kinda go to metaphorically go towards groomers and people who can groom and stunt your liberal thinking abilities to that of a 7 year old. See this is one of the bad patterns that people who go through child SA go through. And I am bold enough to state it as it is. Now whether this is your story or not, it is for you to decide. Be aware of your patterns.

I heard sexual pleasure granted by divine. I think you have a lot of problem accepting the kind of body and sexual pleasure the divine has granted you an access to, this might sound really cultish, but be careful on how you interpret my words

" Your sexual pleasure is the pleasure universe has given you indiscriminately so that you can access what it feels like to get high, it isn't bad to feel high at times (in fact its good) but overdoing it, letting other people control your highs and make you submissive by constantly invading your boundaries to control the way you reach that high is disgustingly evil" That's one of the reasons why infantilization of adults and any type of grooming, even if it is grooming of adults, its considered bad.

That's what I'm getting, your ego of seeking a loyal partner who wouldn't leave you makes you stay in abusive relationships, where people try to control your sexual pleasure and the way you feel it, you endure this abuse to keep such people around, cause you love them but you don't realize that they won't love you, they just do it to feel a sense of control over you, because you give them that feeling. Yet you do this and endured this abuse on your body to keep them around as it deeply hurts you to be cheated on or left behind or not being good enough for a certain someone.

So what I want to say is, if you allow people to use you constantly and not take autonomy of your sexual pleasure, you will never get the type of satisfaction you want nor will you ever satisfy the people you want to satisfy, cause all you are doing is just letting other people use your body and never really feel the intimate, sexual romance sex brings with it. You know what's 8th house in astrology? Its the house of transformation, death, sex, taboo, things you do in secret type of energy. You know why those porn videos on internet never suffice, cause they aren't the things one does in secret, its all for show (Rahu energy) just to look like a certain type of way, the real thing is passionate, intimate, sensual and so wholesome at the same time.

To put all these concepts in this house together means you gotta bring a change within yourself (transformation), or simply let your raw self out. Now there are many negative connotations to this house, but in all honesty, honey you gotta feel it. You gotta understand that in real sex, once you get all these dustys off of your life, partners see each other and love each other for who they are, you can't keep hiding forever.

Now I'm seeing these fake weird self help gurus, sexual help gurus, now I am not telling you to do exactly as I say, but if you are a part of cult that tells you that getting fucked/married by men is the greatest feeling ever, and a wife shall not or should not ask for more, even when she is dissatisfied with the foreplay and if the dude isn't even taking an ounce of an initiative to to help your sexual needs with toys, or calls your desires devilish or even names your kinks as shameless and sinister, then sis/bro you need to take autonomy of your sexual pleasures, and get out of this mindset, also this relationship assuming you have since you are engaging with my reads, no matter how much it boils your blood. I can channel you guys crying, please take your time with this read, if this is your pile. You know what is right for you.

I am getting that you are running from this message. But Liam Payne's song is coming through, you are the tide honey, these messages are the moon (intuition).

I also think the people you imagine as your prince charming or you once used to (cause I'm betting on the fact that you are out of this abusive relationship) , they are literally dumbasses who think all you wanna do is get forced upon on a daily basis, and these idiots who don't understand your rough desires are literally calling you a slut, sex hungry person on a daily basis, when they don't even understand your sexy. Its like eating dirt from the face of earth. What the hell sis? Stop fantasizing about them

Also I think you often leave the people who tend to understand you and your rough desires, cause you fear them having this affect and power on you but once you get acquainted with them, you will feel so satisfied, tasted, satiated by them and they will love the energy you bring into the room as well.

I am also getting this Aphrodite (Greek goddesses are coming though a lot, you might have an altar for Greek Gods). I feel like you have this insatiable energy to you, like people are never satisfied with you, either they want none or they want more and more of you. Anahita the Zoroastrian goddess of fertility, also coming through here. The story of Emperor Augustus freeing Vedius Pollio's slave and abolishing slavery coming through here. Wow but you guys could be into studying history or law as well. The story of Augustus gives me this sense of freedom that you haven't felt in a long time as it was bottom necked and gradually closed off after long and long years of abuse and grooming and indoctrination of ideas that weren't truly yours. I am getting a Trident, which reminds me of Hindu God Shiva and Greek God Poseidon which in my opinion refers to breaking off this sheltered state that was suppressing your inner anger and needs. I am also getting so much water energy with Aphrodite, Anahita, Poseidon and Shiva, I feel like this refers to you, finally allowing yourself to flow and breaking of the barriers that were crossing your personal boundaries. Its as if you are finally becoming one with this eternal state of flow which Universe follows and letting your tenderness show and flow....

Currently some of the affects you have on people who don't like you as much is that you kinda encourage them to force themselves on you, and they think them slut-shaming, embarrassing and emasculating you off of your confidence is dimming your shine and turning you into a better "women". Disgusting, literally disgusting if anything else. They would want you to kneel yourself infront of them and everything that they like. For example they like superman, then you too should like superman too and never complain about that red underwear worn outside a full-set of covered clothes as being cringe even if you think that way. These abrasive people just wanna leave you unsatiated wanting for more, knowing damn well they cannot possibly satisfy you while they try to love bomb you and breadcrumb you in pieces to keep you in their shackles.

While the people who understand you can't seem to get enough of you, they love to make you scream and reach you ecstacy with their own hands cause they love you like that. They wanna rough fuck you like there's no tomorrow, they love making love with you. Also eating your ass or getting eaten by you. I heard they haven't had it in a while and they miss you and want you do that. Maybe you guys are good at eating A$$. Like damn, some of you could be LGTQIA+, take it how it resonates.

Girl, something about your energy tells me we are friends, even if I call you a dumb hoe. You do have this girlboss energy to you.

And the affect people have on you can be so diverse, I am specifically picking up Jungkook from BTS and Jinu from Kpop demon hunters. I am literally seeing people divorcing because of you and that affecting you guys as well. This is kind of a scary energy, but I am picking up Jinu allowing demonic forces to feed off of people which is morally very wrong. So something about your life being disrupted by a big person with name, fame and power could be significant. Just one day by BTS coming through significantly, specifically "Just one day I want to hold your hands, just one day I want to be with you"

Like they could feel like its illegal or even wrong to touch you, hold you, they could plead you to please let them go for another round. But it feels wrong for their colleagues or other employees to know about. I just feel like you make them happy. Bruv I ain't gonna lie, this feels like straight up, workplace abuse (ok but I am also getting someone you had a solo with/masturbation session maybe is missing you and is also currently in a office, and maybe they are the one getting abused in office, idk which one of you is getting abused though, I am sorry if you or any one of your partners are going through that.

All of their collaborations are stuck in one place because of you and your sensual affect. Like they are forcing themselves to concentrate on work to forget all about you. Like their only source of joy is their own work now and their individual work only. They are not asking for help or taking one even if they need any. I feel like this person feels more motivated to abuse people since meeting you and forcing themselves over you or getting forced by people (basically rough sex). I don't know if they have acted on this feeling, but I think you are stuck in a company of very closed minded people who don't understand rough or bdsm typa sex and relate their animalistic desires to r wording or getting r worded by people. Ok what the fuck? Get out of here sweetie pie. I am also getting that this is someone who wants voyeurism and public sex, they don't understand the frequency of having private sex with you. OMG, Idk who this Mogambo is, leave him. Something about Equator or Ecuador.

I am seeing that they feel very determined to move in their life, but due to karma hitting this person back, all of of their investments are going in drain.

I think positively (affect you have on people on good people specifically) you have quite the dreamy affect on people, maybe you are really good at wooing them. I am also seeing you have bad habit of misunderstanding your own skills, talents and acknowledgements. People might feel as if you kinda tease people a lot, especially in public. Idk why I am channeling that Kris wu and some dudes from burning sun scandal. I feel like maybe sometimes people feel like you aren't worth it and might compare your behavior to those of uglies, only to realize you were an abundant sugar daddy or sugar mommy archetype, devil in reverse here, people may feel trapped in your fantasies doesn't mean you have done something wrong here. Maybe the previous person we channeled did fake accusations against you. "You reap what you sow" maybe that's how you answer people who accuse you of fake sexual allegations but end up craving for the same rough sex that you once gave them (idiots 🙄) and they don't like it. I am also getting you have a similar affect on people who love you where they become attached to you and hide their true feelings and insecurities in front of you. They believe they need to look their best, or the perfect for you. I think you are idealized as this dreamy person a lot. Like if you decide to take them on a date they will decide to be the perfect partner for you.

I think your sex appeal wins over people's subconscious and dominates their fantasies whether you like it or not, they kind of love portraying you as this cold hearted Vincenzo typa mafia and traitor and would love to win you over regardless of how bad they think you are, and here you are dying and crying in insecurities before all this glow-up. They could imagine you basking in sunshine soaking up all that sun. Like they see all that sun illuminating within you. Cause there is an edge to you and people literally creampie over that. And you silly you are still trying to let people use you up thinking that as good sexual experience, when people want you to dominate them. damn!!! you gotta straighten up pile 4. People will love you the way you are, I am getting jump over you, they will literally be over the moon to have a person like you, I am chanelling Megan Fox, Beyonce and Ariana Grande in your energy, like we literally channeled Jungkook in this pile, what I don't understand is why are you so unsatisfied with yourself?????? You just gotta let loose, stop being so frigid. I am literally getting that women could start ovulating over you (some of you could be girls who could make other girls go crazy). Now god knows what sorta domination fantasy you got onto them with your face. But really stop being slaves of other people's opinions of you. You guys can have scorpio ascendant or pluto in your first house. There's a theme of being a sex icon or eye candy and objectification, since I do not want to channel those unhealthy energies nor make you feel unseen for chanelling your persona not the inner you. Iam sorry if this pile didn't have that many sexual messages, instead a whole damn lecture right there. Don't let other people abuse you and use you to finally feel like everybody loves you, no, your beauty lies in you not allowing people to take unfair advantage of your insecurities and growing tf out of them. This type of dip in self confidence could also be due to some fake allegations against you in the past.

"Show me how it gets better" - its an affirmation, how does it get better by you being you and yourself, show this world how it gets better by the way of you being who you really are. - Sah D' Simone

You are more than enough. You don't need to tolerate all that abuse on a daily basis to feel if you are beautiful enough to be loved and not left behind. Also I feel like you are tired of being jealous of others for getting better treatment than you and being bitter of yourself, but this is isn't a solution right? You got to stop misinterpreting, and create misunderstandings.

Like people literally love getting slutted up by you. They would want you to ask them out on a date. They might want to slut their lives up for you sometimes in public. You can spice up their lives. I am getting Demeter the Greek Goddess of agriculture and harvest. I feel like you guys could have many earth sign placements. Your touch is very sensual it feels like Midas hands to them. I am getting a very hands on vibe from you, even with Engineer coming through before, I am getting like a sexy mechanic vibe through you guys. "Your hand is very sensual" I heard. I heard Kingly star or royalty so Magha nakshatra could be significant. Th disney movie Encanto coming through. Just like Bruno who was wrongfully ostracized, I think its obvious that despite being the right person in the room and getting persecuted, people recognize this rebel streak within you and want to tame this baddie.

Takedown by Twice, a soundtrack of K-pop demon hunters, is a song where the main character Rumi contemplates if the song is ready to be sung, as the demons aren't bad but were turned evil by Gwi-ma. So she knows its not all in their hands. So she wants to create a more empathizing version which everyone enjoys but in secret. Are you hideous on the inside or do you not understand yourself? Cause Twice choosing to sing the original version even in the credits without any modifications seems so symbolic to me, its as if no matter what they do, they will have to surrender to their company's whims and hide their own scars in real life, no matter the happy ending of K-pop demon hunters. I feel like you guys are given a choice by a Gwi ma of your own if its really necessary to hide these scars or embrace them? Is fulfilling these materialistic desires really going to make you happy?.

Channeled song : Burning Bridges by Sigrid, Takedown by Twice

I humbly advice to kindly give it an ear.

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ellaismydog · 3 days ago

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Thinking about the different forms of transportation in Trigun and what they say about the characters. Because the way a character chooses to travel is a metaphor for how they go through life yada yada, there's a sick part of my brain that misses writing uni essays and Trigun just brings it out in me.

Vash is usually depicted as walking. It's pretty consistent across all versions of Trigun, to the point where it's featured pretty heavily in both anime intros. It's a slow approach, but then Vash is a very patient man - he'd have to be after 150 years. He wanders across the planet, and he might do it slowly, but it's inexorable. He'll always get to his destination eventually, whether he likes it or not.

It's also lonely. No one else can wander the way Vash does - no human, anyway. They're mortal. They simply don't have the time or the built-up patience for it. It's another thing that separates Vash from the people around him, and shows just how different his perspective really is.

Then, there's Wolfwood's motorcycle, in both Trigun 98 and Trigun Maximum (and hopefully Trigun Stargaze, please please PLEASE give that man a bike).

If we look beyond Angelina just being cool as fuck, I think this choice of vehicle is very interesting, because it's almost as lonely as Vash's walking. Traditionally, motorcycles are only meant to accommodate one person. There's only one seat, only one person can sit comfortably (two if you want to get romantically coded, but we'll get to that later). Sure, as a method of transportation, it's faster than Vash's walking, but then Wolfwood is only human, so he has to go through life much faster than Vash does. But the fundamental LONELINESS is still there. Wolfwood doesn't have room to travel with anyone else. He expects a lonely existence, and that affects his choice of vehicle.

Then, you take into account the sidecar. Something you can tack onto the motorcycle, almost like an afterthought, to let someone else accompany you. Due to his mission, Wolfwood quite literally has to accommodate Vash, and involve him in his life/journey. So, the vehicle that could only seat one, has now grown to seat two - but that's it. Vash is the one person Wolfwood really 'lets in' in this way. I dunno, I just think that's really sweet.

In Tristamp in particular, there's also Meryl and Roberto's car. For as many times as it breaks down and Meryl runs people over, the car is really a symbol of safety throughout the show. Wolfwood and Vash are shown sleeping in the backseat more times than they're shown sleeping in an actual bed, and the design is just so LIVED IN, what with Roberto's stash of cigarettes and the little knickknacks scattered everywhere. There's something almost domestic about it. It's the first method of transportation I've talked about that seats more than one-two people, and it shows. When Vash travels with his three friends in this way, it's like he's with his family.

I think this is especially important in the Tristamp episode with the sand steamer. Vash and Wolfwood need to leave the car behind to board the steamer, and it's not really under the best circumstances. Roberto kinda urges them out - he's suspicious of Vash after finding the photograph with him and Rollo, and wants to protect both himself and Meryl by getting as far away from him as they can. So, Vash is ejected from the car in the same way he's ejected from the family dynamic they'd been building. Only for Roberto and Meryl to literally follow behind him in said car when they realise their mistake, inviting him back in and giving him their trust once again.

Incidentally, once Vash leaves the car, he goes straight from one form of transportation to another: the sand steamer.

The sand steamer is the biggest, most public form of transportation I've talked about so far. If Meryl's car portrayed a family dynamic, the steamer is more like it's own country, filled with all types of people and strangers from different backgrounds. So, when Vash leaves the car and enters the sand steamer, he's being ejected from life in an insulated place of safety, to life in the wider public - and is attacked almost immediately.

Really, this is representative of his relationship with the rest of the world. It's why he chooses to walk and why he lives alone - because people hurt him. It also serves as a fantastic comparison to Meryl and Roberto's car, showing that while he isn't safe around the general public, he is safe around them. His family.

The last form of transportation I could think of is the Thomases. Originally, I didn't have much to say about them - but the more I think about this series, the more insane I get, so have some half-formed ramblings.

Because I kinda see the Thomases as a symbol of Vash's connection to No Man's Land? Like - they're native beasts (I think? Let me know if I'm wrong), and Vash is shown to have such an affinity with them, especially in Tristamp. He rides them with such ease, after so many years of learning from Brad and his own hundred years' experience, that it's practically second nature. It's a form of transportation specific to No Man's Land, and it's something Vash has perfected, because he's tied to this planet in a fundamental way.

It could also be tied to the fact that Thomases are not human, and neither is Vash. They have that connection. So, while travelling by Thomas is still fundamentally lonely, without anyone else to talk to, there's still a level of understanding there, which shines through in how easily Vash can ride them.

I think it's also interesting that Vash chooses to walk in spite of this. He could make his wandering easier on himself by riding a Thomas instead, but he doesn't. Because that would mean putting the Thomas in danger. Because walking isn't so painful for someone like him - and even if it is, he can take it. Because he feels he doesn't deserve to make it easier on himself. This character makes me upset.

I don't really have a conclusion lol. This series just has me by the throat and I need to scream analysis into the void until it lets go.

#trigun #analysis

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antithetical-bolter · 1 day ago

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Out Of The Woods

Chapter 1

Shoutout to @antisocialfiore for helping me with the title!! This is my first fic I’ve posted to tumblr so any tips on how to keep chapters organized and whatnot would be lovely. Hang in there while I figure it out lmao. Chapter 2 is written and will be posted shortly <3

5.0k words | Seasoned ER nurse Iris McDowell finds herself pregnant after a one night stand with Robby, who is predictably handling things very poorly.

Warnings: unplanned pregnancy, discussion of abortions, excessive use of the word fuck, commas, and em dashes.

Tag list: @antisocialfiore @snowflames-world @eviemonroeer

Page dividers by: @cafekitsune

Iris

Well, shit.

That is most definitely two pink lines.

On three different tests. Iris Elizabeth McDowell, you fucking idiot.

Just my fucking luck, that getting tipsy and fucking the very hot and very emotionally unavailable attending would result in a god damn pregnancy. I’d been blissfully ignorant the last 3 weeks - my periods have never been all that regular but as soon as the nausea and the sore boobs hit I knew it was time to face the music. And sure enough, the music was telling me that I was pregnant. With Michael Robinavitch’s baby.

Robby, who has barely made eye contact with me past what was required for patient care since it happened. Robby, who let it slip at the bar that he had been interested in me for months now. Robby, who I was unfortunately in love with. Had been for an embarrassingly long time now - so him up and leaving the morning after the best sex of my life triggered a full blown crisis. Almost a decade of pining, all for one (admittedly spectacular) night. The whole debacle had me briefly considering finding a new ER to work at, but I decided I wouldn’t let a man dictate my life. Even if it was that man.

Do I want to keep it? I think so? Should I want to keep it? Probably not.

It’s not like I’m some young new grad nurse who doesn’t have a career. I’ve been an ER nurse for more than ten years now, working at the Pitt for all but the first two. I’m damn good at my job, so much so that I occasionally fill in for the charge nurses, and I have a great support system. But the thought of having to tell Robby that I’m carrying his child? Genuinely makes me want to puke. Again.

I have money, a 2 bedroom condo, a regular enough schedule that daycare wouldn’t be an issue. But do I really want to be a single mom? Put my body through the fucking wild ride that is pregnancy? Oh god. Pregnancy scrubs? The absolute worst. Not to mention actually giving birth.

Thankfully, the universe has seen fit to give me a single win in all this, and I have the next 4 days off to figure out how to be normal at work again. First order of business - call my OB. A brief phone call later, I have an appointment for 9:45. Just over two hours from now.

Fuck, I could really use my mom right now. Not like we were ever super close, with her living on the west coast and me getting the fuck out of my tiny ass hometown right after high school, but I’d like the option to call her and freak out. Both her and my dad were killed in a car accident just over three years ago, and somehow this scenario had never crossed my mind. I have an older brother who lives back home in Washington, but we have very different works views and I highly doubt he would be a good source of familial support. Cue the tears - but they feel cathartic. A release I desperately need right now.

My therapist is going to lose her ever-loving mind. A quick look on her patient portal reveals that she has an opening this afternoon, so I guess that makes 2 wins from the universe for me today. I’ll take what I can get.

I am very picky about my medical providers. Working in the field myself means I have seen some shit doctors, and I just flat out refuse to put my care in the hands of someone I don’t trust. My OB is the best of the best, and she’s really earning her copay right now.

The transvaginal ultrasound was quick, confirming that I definitely have something cooking in there. The tech asked if I wanted to hear the heartbeat - but I said no. I’m right at the six week mark so a heartbeat can be heard at this point but I am not ready for that just yet. Not until I decide what I want to do. My OB, bless her, ran me through all of my options. She knows I know them, I’m an ER nurse after all, but it’s like all my schooling and experience fell out of my brain the second the stick(s) turned pink.

She encouraged me to take my time making a decision, since I have a few weeks to make a choice either way. We went through what it would look like to keep, terminate, and adopt. Having all the information laid out in front of me makes me feel both better and far, far worse.

She also tells me that no matter what the father wants, this is my choice. That I should lean on my people, and find someone I trust to tell. That if I do decide to terminate, I need to have someone with me after I take the medications to make sure everything progresses as it should.

I leave the appointment armed with 4 different pamphlets and 3 sonogram images that I have yet to look at.

Therapy is significantly harder. Erica, bless her, has been my therapist since I moved to Pittsburgh for college when I was 18. She knows me far too well - immediately clocks that it must be hard to be dealing with all of this without my mom’s support, which triggers a crying spell. Once I’ve recovered from that we move on to how I’m going to tell Robby.

“I don’t know, Erica. He’s barely looked at me since we slept together, I can count the non-patient related words he’s said to me since then on one hand and none of them were particularly nice.” That man needs therapy more than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s an incredible doctor and great to his friends, but ever since he fucked up his relationship with Collins so badly that she left the state he’s been especially moody.

“How do you think he’s going to react to this?”

“Not particularly well. He’ll freak out, not speak to me for a few days, and then inevitably come back around and say that he’ll help me with whatever I choose. I know that if I decide to keep it that he would help, but that it would be out of obligation and that is not what I want. I would never keep him away from his kid but I can almost guarantee that I would be eternally fucked up over it.” Erica nods thoughtfully, taking a pause to formulate a reply that won’t send me over the edge.

“Maybe you should start by telling someone else, then. Maybe Samira, or Dana? Someone who will support you unconditionally without any emotional baggage taking up space in the back seat. They could help you decide what to say when you tell him, and support you if it goes as poorly as you think it will.” She gives me a very pointed look before continuing. “Also, and really think about this before brushing it off, maybe this conversation between you and Robby will help you both. A push that requires communication where there is a gap right now.”

“I - I, ugh. I just really, really don’t want to have to do this with him. He really hurt me when he just up and fucking ghosted me. Especially because he spent the whole night prior telling me that he’s been wanting to kiss me for months, and a whole bunch of other shit that he clearly didn’t mean.” He doesn’t seem like the type to spout bullshit to get a woman into bed with him, but I really cannot come up with another reason for him to be acting this way.

“It’s fair and reasonable for you to be scared. And if he screws this up, you have my blessing to tell him to fuck off. But no matter what you choose, you will be okay. It might suck for a while, but you will come out the other side.” The unspoken words are loud - that I will be okay but that it’s going to take a while for me to get there.

“I know you’re right but it’s hard to see right now.” Pretty much impossible, actually.

“That’s okay, I’m here to remind you. Your homework this week is to tell someone you trust.” Sad that I don’t consider the father someone I trust, but he definitely is not making that list right now.

“I’m going to call Dana literally as soon as we hang up - Samira’s working right now.” She nods in response, flashes me what I’m sure is supposed to be a reassuring smile but it just doesn’t land. We schedule an appointment for next week and then we hang up. I give myself 10 minutes to spiral before I pick up the phone and call Dana.

Dana picks up her phone on the third ring.

“Hey, kid! Where are ya?” I can hear the sounds of what is likely a bar or restaurant in the background and belatedly realize that there’s ER social plans today - most of day shift is gathered at the sports bar near the hospital to watch the first Penguins game of the regular season. Hockey is one of the few sports I will watch voluntarily, and I definitely told Dana I would try and make it out tonight.

“Shit, Dana. I totally spaced, had a bit of a personal crisis. Can I call you later? When you aren’t surrounded by our coworkers?” I hear a booming laugh in the background and immediately place it as Robby’s. Because of course he’s there. “Can you just, uh - text me when you leave the bar?”

“Hold up, Iris, wait. Are you okay?” Her voice changes, drops lower and sounds muffled. Like she’s covering her mouth while she speaks in an effort to afford me some privacy. She knows something happened between Robby and I, and has had a front row seat to whatever the fuck is going on right now so she’s sensitive to the fact that I might not want him knowing about said personal crisis. Little does she fucking know that he’s going to be quite privy to the details when I’m no longe actively in a state of crisis.

“I mean, okay is not really the word I would use but I’m safe and not currently in any physical danger.” Very much not okay, but I don’t want to make her change her plans for me. It’s so rare that we’re all able to see each other outside the Pitt and I know she values this time with her friends.

“Iris, honey. What’s wrong?” I don’t answer, but I do start to cry. My best efforts at keeping my sobs quiet are unsuccessful. “Oh fuck, you know what, never mind, I’m just gonna come over. Hang tight, okay?” I hear the screech of a chair as she presumably scoots back and stands up. Her voice is quieter as she speaks next, having moved the phone so she can talk to whoever else is at the table. “Change of plans, guys. I have to go. Enjoy the game and I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

The crying has not slowed in the thirty seconds it takes her to get outside.

“Dana, really, I appreciate it but you can stay and finish the game. I can wait.” I must not convince her, because she laughs at me. Fairly so, given that my words are very much broken up by sobs.

“Absolutely not. I’m on my way, I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

She arrives in eight.

I’m waiting by the door, and open it before she has a chance to knock. I’m still crying - no longer sobbing, but a pretty steady stream of tears track their way down my cheeks. I see the question forming on her lips but I beat her to it and hold out my three positive tests for her to see.

“Are we happy? Shopping? Making an appointment at the clinic?” Classic Dana - no big reaction, just thoughtful statements of action. Unfortunately I don’t know what I want.

“I don’t know yet. Took the tests early this morning and was able to get in last minute to see OB to confirm it. I’m just about 6 weeks along and I have no fucking clue what I want to do.” She closes the door behind her and immediately pulls me into a tight hug. Rubs my back with one hand and runs the other through my hair, tells me that it’s okay to not know what I want and that she’s here for me no matter what. Does not ask me who the father is. Unfortunately that is the biggest piece to this puzzle and I know I need to tell her.

We move to my couch and she makes me drink some water before continuing to fill her in. I decide it’s best to just fucking do it - no preamble and no backstory.

“Robby’s the father.” That stops her in her tracks for a second. Her eyes go wide and I can tell she’s working extremely hard to keep her own emotions under wraps.

“Well, shit. So that ‘thing’ that happened between you guys in September was sex?” I nod. “And, let me hazard a guess here, he freaked the fuck out and now he’s unable to act normal around you.” I nod again.

“That about sums it up. He left before I woke up and any effort I made to talk to him about it ended with him getting snippy and walking away from me. My texts went unanswered so I just stopped trying.”

“What an asshole - I’m so sorry, Iris.” She leans over to pull me into another hug. “Are you going to tell him?”

“I mean I kinda have to, don’t I? Would be a real dick move of me to not tell him about this. Even if he doesn’t deserve me speaking to him ever again.”

“I think that depends on what you decide you want to do. If you want to keep it, then yeah you’re gonna have to tell him. But if you don’t, then we go to the clinic this week and he remains none the wiser. Either choice is okay, whatever you decide to do will be the right decision for you.” I take a deep breath, enjoying having her here to support me.

“See that’s the thing, my first instinct is that I want to keep it. I’ve always thought that I could go either way on having kids, but now that it’s staring me in the face I can’t imagine not going through with it.” Saying it out loud all but confirms my decision - this is happening. I’m going to have a baby. And I’m going to have to tell Robby.

“Then that’s what will happen. I’ve got your back through all of it, and if you want me to hide upstairs while you tell Robby I can do that. I’ll even chase him out if he acts a fool.” She’s serious, and I love her for that.

“Might not be a terrible idea. The last thing I want is for him to be involved purely out of obligation.” I debate stopping there, not divulging the depths of my (extremely unadvised) feelings for him, but I’ve already gone this far so what’s the harm in spilling the whole story. “I’m like, stupidly in love with that man. Have been for a long time, and I was happy to have it kinda live in the background of my life up until recently. He approached me at that party we had for Jesse and we hit it off, and he was really sweet. Told me that he’s been wanting to kiss me for months and that he hasn’t been able to get me out of his head. We each had a few drinks, but I wasn’t drunk. A little tipsy for sure, but sober enough to consent and be smart about it. We even used a fucking condom! Then he was gone when I woke up and you’ve seen how he’s been since then.” She grimaces a little before responding.

“Yeah, he’s been in rare Robby form. Very broody. But, Iris, I really think he meant what he told you. Handled it terribly for sure, but he’s so thoroughly fucked up in the past that his ex literally left the state. He’s probably just trying to protect you in his own, very fucked up way.” I laugh and try to wipe away the tears staining my face, but they just keep coming.

“Well he’s doing a terrible job. Is it crazy of me to make him go to therapy before I let him really be involved? Is that, like, blackmailing?” The last thing I want out of all this is for my kid to be hurt in the same way - their dad hot and cold, unable to really make a commitment to be present in their life.

“Maybe a bit, but I fully support you in that. I actually think that’s plenty reasonable, and if he gives you pushback then he’ll hear about it from me.” So quick to jump in and support me, even when the problem is one of her best and longest friends. “If it makes you feel any better, the second I said your name at the bar earlier he looked like he was two seconds away from taking my phone and checking on you himself.” A mirthful laugh escapes me at that - it does not make me feel better.

“Then blackmail it is. Now, how the fuck am I supposed to have this conversation with him when I can’t even get him to say three consecutive words to me that aren’t directly work related?”

We spend the next hour brainstorming, and by the time she leaves I feel better. I have a loose plan, my tear ducts have long since run dry, and I no longer feel like I’m about to majorly fuck my whole life up.

I make myself a list before I go to sleep - things I need to buy for first trimester health, food I should avoid, and symptoms I’ve been experiencing so I can be as informed as possible.

My list exhausts me (that, and the tiny human I’m currently forming) and I fall into a blissful, dreamless sleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

I spend the next few days making more lists. Baby names, furniture, birth plans. If there’s a relevant list to be made - it’s currently up on my fridge.

My first day back at work since The Event (TM) is fine, I guess. Dana greets me with a hug and a quiet check in, and while this isn’t that out of the ordinary it is unusual that she pulls me off the floor to do it. I feel Robby’s eyes track us as we walk back in from the ambulance bay, especially when we get closer and Dana does not smell like she’s just come back from a smoke break.

I treat Robby to his own taste of the silent treatment. No niceties, no attempts at small talk. Strictly patient care and work related conversations, and honestly conversations is a generous word. Terse exchanges is more accurate. Not even a polite smile in his direction. I don’t let it get in the way of my job, and if I do say so myself I really knock it out of the park nursing wise. Even escaping to the bathroom a few times per shift to puke doesn’t get in the way of my determination to keep up my ‘everything is fine’ facade.

Three shifts pass in this manner, three shifts where I can feel him fucking watching me like he knows something is up. Thirty-six hours of me sitting on the biggest fucking secret I’ve ever kept when all I really want to do is yell “Hey, fuckface! You ghosted me and it sucked, and I’m fucking angry about. By the way, I’m pregnant with your child. Get some god damn therapy if you’d like to be involved!” And then walk out, middle fingers up, leaving him to stand with the aftermath of his actions.

But, unfortunately, I am a professional adult so I don’t do that. I do heavily fantasize about it though.

Samira notices that something is up right away, but she is also on a long stretch of shifts so we agree to hang out when our work weeks are both done. We meet for breakfast (at 8pm) at the closest Denny’s and she spits out her coffee when I tell her that not only did I sleep with Robby, but that there’s going to be literal life long consequences for it come early June.

“Oh my god. I would ask if you’re okay, but I think I can answer that myself. When are you going to tell him?” I shrug as I finish my bite of French toast.

“Great question. He’s been fucking frosty with me lately and it doesn’t have me feeling very generous towards him. I know he deserves to know but god the thought of that conversation makes me want to punch a wall.” Another bite of toast. “I know that a few weeks after we slept together was the anniversary of Pitt Fest and Adamson’s death, but the way he’s been treating me does not make me want to tell him. It makes me want to be spiteful and keep it from him until the last possible second, so he can be as blindsided as I feel right now. Very immature of me and I won’t do that but it’s nice to entertain it for a bit.”

“He’s clearly fumbling the bag pretty hard right now, but you and I both know he’s going to do the right thing.”

“I know, and that’s almost worse. If he’s going to be all emotionally constipated while attempting to be present I am going to lose my shit. Dana said she thinks I am well within my rights to threaten him with therapy, so I think that’s my game plan.”

“That’s - that’s actually a great idea. If anything will get that man into therapy it’s the threat of potentially fucking up his child’s life.” She chuckles a bit. “Can I tell Jack? I will obviously swear him to secrecy but it might be nice to have him in your corner.”

“Please do - but if he tells Robby before I do I will kill him.”

“And I will help you hide the body. Also, he’s picking me up from this meal so if you’d like to fill him in yourself you’re about to have your window.” Like she summoned him, Jack Abbot walks in the door. He immediately finds Samira and she waves him over.

I decide that I do not have another long, emotional story in me and just spit it out.

“Hi, Jack.” He looks at me a little weird, we’re friendly at work but I don’t think I’ve ever called him by his first name before. “Welcome to the party, you’re about to hear some very classified information so prepare yourself.” He stares at me, a little stunned, but I just keep on talking. “I’m pregnant and keeping it. Robby’s the father, but I haven’t told him yet.” His jaw drops open, and he has to open and close it a few times before actual words come out.

“Uhhh, wow. Fuck. Are you, uhm, are you going to tell him?”

“I mean, yeah. Not sure when or how, but yeah. What’s your opinion on me using this as an opportunity to threaten him into therapy?” This gets a loud, genuine laugh from him.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. You want my therapists number? I’ve given it to him multiple times but he’s clearly never used it.” Abbot doesn’t wait for me to answer, just pulls a card out of his wallet and hands it to me. “Are you doing okay? Managing symptoms alright?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks. Freaking the fuck out, but okay.” With that, I decide I’ve had enough social interaction for the day. “Now that all that’s out of the way, I’m going to head home. Samira, love you, thanks for the support, and Jack I’m a little sorry to drag you into all this but thankful that you’re here anyway.” I leave them at that, dropping enough cash to cover my meal and all but running to my car so I can have my next meltdown in peace.

I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I let another two full weeks pass before I even consider telling Robby. Erica, Dana, and Samira are all on my case a little bit but ultimately don’t push me too hard. My OB and therapist have both been informed that I’ve decided to continue the pregnancy, and the appropriate follow up appointments have been scheduled.

It takes an extra long session with Erica, complete with roll play and multiple outcomes of the conversation for me to feel even slightly ready to broach the subject with him. We decide that I’ll attempt to talk to him after our next shift together, a rare night where neither of us have to be in the next morning.

Dana knows, and as she leaves out the ambulance bay doors she shoots me a very encouraging thumbs up and a ‘call me!’ While I wait for him to leave. I don’t have to wait much longer. 10 minutes pass before I see him walk out, backpack slung over his shoulders and thick winter jacket thrown on like it’s armor. He doesn’t turn his head to look at me as he passes.

I parked at the very end of the lot today, hoping to use my car as an excuse to follow him for a bit. As we approach my green Honda CRV, I know it’s time to bite the bullet.

“Hey, uh, Robby? Can we talk for a sec?” He pauses, takes an AirPod out, and turns to face me. He looks like shit. Tired, like he hasn’t had a good sleep in weeks. I feel mean for thinking it, but I’m glad he’s getting just as much (little?) rest as I am.

“I’ve got somewhere to be, Iris. Now’s not a good time.” He may be facing me, but he’s not really looking at me. Fucking infuriating.

“It won’t take long, please. It’s kinda important.” Fuck him for making me plead to have a conversation - this is starting to feel a little humiliating. I can feel the tears forming and threatening to spill out, but he isn’t looking at me so he doesn’t see them.

“Not now. There isn’t really anything for us to talk about. I have to go, I’ll see you later.” And with that, he’s got his AirPod back in and is walking away. Fucking dick. The hot sting of rejection sits heavy in my chest, and I have to take a few minutes before I feel steady enough to drive home.

I work myself up pretty well on the way home, moving from shame to anger. I kick my shoes off in the entryway and slam my bag down, feeling like I need to scream. I decide a run will suffice and quickly change into my running gear. As I slip on my shoes and grab my running belt I decide there’s something I need to do first, and pull my phone out to send the riskiest text I’ve ever sent.

Iris (7:58pm)

Hi, asshole. I have been working up the nerve to talk to you for weeks, but since I apparently don’t deserve even five minutes of your time I guess this is how you’re going to find out.

I attach a picture of the tests and hit send, and then immediately send a follow up.

Iris (7:59pm)

Before you have the fucking audacity to ask, yes it’s yours and I’ll be keeping it.

I immediately put my phone on do not disturb and start my watch so I can track my run. I hit the pavement with a vengeance. My feet feel heavy beneath me, and it takes me longer than usual to feel warmed up enough to really run. I blast my angriest playlist, and run until I no longer feel like murdering the father of my unborn child.

I hit my favorite smoothie place on my way home, and call Dana as I walk and warm down.

“So I told him.” She gasps. “But, uh, over text. I tried to talk to him as he left but he blew me off and I was just so fucking angry and maybe jumped the gun a little, but it’s done now. I went for a run as soon as I got home, I’m walking back to my place as we speak.”

“How are you feeling about it, hon?”

“Terrified. Have not checked to see if he’s responded. Maybe a little elated? But like, in a manic way so maybe that’s not a good thing.” Dana laughs and reassures me.

“It’s alright, kid. That’s a big step you just took and you tried to do it in person, so fuck it. You want me to come over?” She asks, just as I turn the corner onto my street. My heart all but stops as I see an unfortunately familiar suburban parked in front of my house, and my breathing stops with it when I see that the man himself is sitting on my front steps.

“Oh fuck.”

“He’s at your house, isn’t he?” She’s far too smart for her own good, or maybe she just knows him too well.

“Yup.” God dammit, past Iris. Did you really have to send those texts?

“I can still come over if you want.” Seriously considering taking her up on that.

“No, I’ll handle him. But, maybe later? If and when I need to cry about this?”

“I’ll be waiting by the phone. You’ve got this, kid. Give him hell.”

#the Pitt fanfic #the Pitt fanfiction #michael robby robinavitch #Robby x ofc #Robby x original female character #Dana Evans #Jack Abbot #Samira Mohan #jack x samira

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mylovewasbulletproof · 2 days ago

Text

Catalyst pt 2

couple of quick updates: I decided I’m not re-writing part 1 (at least right now) and you all seemed to enjoy it so here we go

If you haven’t read pt 1 it offers some back story but I don’t think you’ll be totally lost if you don’t read it

I have more ideas for this pairing as well as ideas for some robby pairings. let me know if you want more!

warnings: Pittfest, anxiety, panic attacks, soft!jack, canon typical injuries, likely some medical inaccuracies, angst, hurt/comfort, implied suicidal thoughts, mention of throwing up, dissociation, angst, death of a patient, still pining but getting closer for sure

Jack Abbot x R4 amputee reader

——————————————————————

You never liked working day shifts. It felt like you were too noticeable. Working the night shift had always felt comfortable. Like the darkness could hide you away if you need it to.

The only reason you were back at the Pitt was because Dana had asked you to cover for Robby. It was the anniversary of Adamson’s passing and he usually took it off.

“Did you know Dr. Robby was working today?” You asked Jack who had been giving you shift change notes

“No. No idea.” He shrugged before telling you that he would see you later for the next shift change

——————————————————————

One thing about the day shift is that you were never bored. With an average wait time of 3 hours in the waiting room, you were doing your best to treat patients and discharge them as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, not everyone in the waiting room appreciated your effort.

You were checking in on Dana, who thankfully hadn’t been seriously injured by an angry patient, when she got the call.

There was a shooter at Pittfest and we needed to prepare the ER for a mass casualty incident.

Your breath hitched and suddenly you couldn’t hear anything over your heart beat echoing in your ears. A loud clap from Dr. Robby seemed to reset your senses. You hadn’t even realized that Jack was already here.

You were told that you were going to assist both the red zone and triage. Dr. Robby trusted you to make quick decisions about where you were needed most given the current patients coming in. Before patients started arriving, he asked you to start stocking all the trauma bays with the supplies coming out of the mass casualty incident bins.

“Do we have any more ket or roc vials I can put in the last few trauma bays?” You asked Jack, knowing he was coordinating the flow of supplies

“Not currently. I’m waiting on one more bin. There should be some more within the next 2 minutes” Jack replied, checking inventory lists

“Ok, I’ll be back then” you were halfway to exiting the bay when he called your name

“Are you okay? I know-“

“I’m fine. I don’t have any other choice. Right?” you cut him off before he could finish his sentence

“If you need anything, come find me. Okay?” he meets your eyes for a split second, softening his just enough to only be noticeable to you

——————————————————————

Patients came pouring in. At this point, you had lost track of how many patients you’d treated. It seemed like one patient would stabilize, just for another one to crash.

You hadn’t spent long in triage. Just enough time to grab your next patient. On your way out of the ambulance bay you tried not to glare at the reporter trying to shove her way inside.

“Ok, ma’am you can let go now” you say gently, trying to pull her son from her arms

“I want to stay with my son” she says

“He will be very close by. This one’s red, I’ll take it” you say before pushing off with the gurney

“How can I help?” Mohan meets you at the double doors

“I need hemostatic dressings, a chest tube, probably O neg, at least a bag. It’s a penetrating chest wound left side” you instruct, looking for a space to stop your patient and begin working

“I don’t have a pulse” Mohan calls

“God damn it” you position yourself on top of the gurney, beginning compressions

“Mohan, I need you to use an IO drill to go into the bone marrow and start the transfusion” you instruct, pausing to get a pulse check

Mohan follows your instructions. Handing off the blood bag to Princess to hold

“I’m gonna have to put in a chest tube and try auto-transfusing. He’s just losing too much”

Jack couldn’t help but let his eyes flick up from his own patient to look up at you. He wasn’t sure what injuries your patient had but regardless it didn’t make sense to try and auto-transfuse without a pulse. It didn’t make sense why you hadn’t called it yet. He passed his patient off to Walsh before crossing over to where you were working.

“Penetrating chest wound. Gone through 2 hemostatic dressings. Transfused 1 bag of O neg, just started auto-transfusing” you call, sensing his presence behind you

“How much are you looking to auto-transfuse?” He asks softly, glancing between you and your patient

“Not sure. 1200 maybe?” you pause again, looking for a pulse, before quickly resuming

“Then what?” He asks, trying to get you to think through the process and realize that you needed to call time of death

“I don’t know Dr. Abbot. Why don’t you tell me?” you huffed, not understanding why he was choosing now to watch you work

Jack looked a little bit closer at the patient. It was then that he realized that this injury mirrored your brothers’. The patient was a similar age. He took a deep breath before offering his advice:

“If he was my patient, I’d have called it. Look at that wound Y/N. In the field he would’ve been pronounced.”

“He had a pulse when he came in. If I can just get his volume back up” You rush out

“You’d need several bags of blood that we just don’t have. If he was our only patient, maybe. But even then chances would be slim” he sighs, a sinking feeling brewing in his chest

You did one more round and one more check for a pulse with the Doppler before pushing back and calling time of death. Jack watched as you definitely jumped down from the patient harder than necessary. Scribbling furiously on the card attached to your patient. He didn’t even have a chance to speak before you were rushing off and he was being pulled for a different patient.

——————————————————————

Eventually, the ambulances and vehicles began to slow. The red and pink zones had been cleared. It was mostly patients in the yellow zone waiting to be scheduled for surgery or moved upstairs. You had been moving on auto pilot since you had called time of death. But as people around you started to slow down, you realized that you needed to go notify the boy’s family.

They teach you in med school that grief can express itself in many different ways. Some people cry, some people scream, others stare at the wall in shock, and some get angry.

You knew all of that and thought you had prepared yourself well enough. This wasn’t the first patient you had lost. You had done this before and watched both Dr. Robby and Dr. Abbot do them as well.

You knocked on the closed door of the family room. You took one big deep breath before entering the room.

“Thank you for your patience. My name is Dr. L/N and I worked on your son when he came in this evening”

“Yes, please, tell us about our son, Henry” his mother trembled, waiting anxiously for your reply

“Henry came in with very serious injuries. The bullet entered the left side of his chest, through his lung, before stopping several inches from his spine. He lost his pulse very quickly after arriving. The blood loss was too severe. I am so sorry for your loss” you finished, before bracing yourself

Immediately his father began throwing insults and casting blame. He had said you didn’t try hard enough and that you should’ve been able to save him, along with several expletives describing you. His mother just repeated no over and over again, covering her ears and rocking back and forth.

You restated how sorry you were for their loss before excusing yourself from their room. The hallway passed by in a blur, you had one place you were headed for. Only stopping long enough to empty your stomach into a trash can nearby.

——————————————————————

Jack had listened as Dr. Robby did his debrief. Subtly scanning the room, he realized you weren’t there. He knew it would look bad if he left in the middle of Michael’s debrief but he was itching to go find you. But he also knew you weren’t okay after calling that time of death. Things had moved so quickly afterwards that he hadn’t had a chance to find you and talk through it.

He waited until Michael was done, making sure to confirm that he was up for a beer in the park before setting off towards the elevators.

As he pushed open the door to the roof, it didn’t take long for his eyes to find your pacing figure. He could tell your eyes were red and puffy and you were limping. There was something bothering you about your prosthetic but you just kept walking back and forth.

You were re-running every second of that code in your head — trying and failing to convince yourself that. The pain in your leg was background noise to the chaos unfolding in your head. The only thing you could feel was the sting of the wind against your soaked cheeks and the suffocating weight on your chest.

Jack couldn’t stand to watch you walk back and forth for much longer. He slowly approached, trying to make some noise to avoid scaring you. But you were clearly somewhere else, not registering your surroundings. It scared Jack, seeing you so dissociated and so close to the edge of that roof. He was starting to understand Michael’s concern when the roles were reversed.

He had made one last attempt to get your attention before deciding that he needed to step in front of you. Hopefully it would disrupt the cycle you were stuck in and begin to ground you. He moved just slightly into your path, hands out to steady you. You bumped into his chest which caused you to look up at him. His relief didn’t last long when he realized it was like you were looking through him. He’d seen that thousand yard stare before , in comrades on the battlefield, in himself after a particularly bad nightmare. He lightly grabbed both sides of your face, just enough pressure to pull you back to the present.

Your breath caught slightly, like it got stuck in your throat. Your eyes seemed to clear, just slightly before your breathing picked up and you began mumbling. It took him several seconds to realize what you were saying

“It’s my fault. I couldn’t save him. I’m so sorry”

“Hey Y/N, I need you to focus on me. Big deep breaths” he urged, he could practically see your carotid pulse moving in your neck

You stopped speaking but continued to shake your head. Your knees buckled soon after, causing him to move one of his hands to your waist to steady you.

“Ok honey. Let’s sit down. Okay?” He tapped his fingers against the side of your waist before guiding the both of you into a seated position. He moved so you were sitting chest to chest, leaving enough space for your legs to stretch out behind him. He took both your hands, pressing one to his chest, directly over his heart and the other he began to squeeze gently.

“Come on. Match my breathing. I don’t want you passing out on me” he pushed, watching as you began to try and slow your breathing

“Good girl. That’s it. Keep going. You’re doing so good” he felt some of the weight lift off his shoulders as your pulse and breathing began to even out

The two of you sat like that for several more minutes. Trying to center yourselves.

“Jack?” your voice cracked, dragging your eyes from their spot on the floor to meet his

“Yes honey. I’m right here. Talk to me” his face had softened in ways you had never seen before — the creases by his eyes smoothed, his mouth didn’t seem permanently stuck in a scowl

“He looked just like him. And I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save either of them” your voice trailed off as you curled into yourself

“I know. But there was no saving that boy tonight and you have no blame in what happened to your brother, you know that” he murmured, reaching up to your cheek to catch a stray tear

“I just don’t understand why I keep being spared as the people around me die. Why did I become a doctor if I can’t save people?” you sniffled

“You worked on 27 different patients today. 26 of them are on their way to recovery because of you. You’ll always remember the ones you couldn’t save but I refuse to let you convince yourself that you’re a bad doctor. That’s basically an insult towards me. I trained you” the corners of his mouth twitched up, hoping that it would help lighten your mood

You yawned before realizing that you were still sitting in Jack’s lap. You scrambled off, opting to sit down next to him. He still hasn’t let go of your hand, as if he’s worried you’ll float away if he does. You hesitate for a moment, before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder

“Michael has two beers with our names on it if you want to go join the crew or I can just take you home” he looked down at you, offering you the options

“I need at least one beer before I go home or I won’t be able to sleep tonight” you groan, slowly pushing yourself back into a standing position

You offer Jack your hand again, helping him stand up

“Will you let me look at your leg while you drink?” He asks, gently tapping his prosthetic against yours

“How did you-“ you pause before deciding against finishing your question “If you want. I guess. I think it’s just inflamed. I didn’t expect to be here this long so I didn’t wear the right sleeve”

He hums in acknowledgment, pulling you towards the door, “I want to check it for cellulitis, just to be safe”

“You act like I’m not a doctor myself” you huff, pulling yourself a bit closer to him, shivering as the wind blew

“It’s actually because I know you’re a doctor that I know you’re not going to pay attention to it unless it gets bad. It’s okay to let people take care of you”

“That’s rich coming from the self care king himself. I’ll let you take care of me as soon as you let me take care of you” you retort, and for once Jack didn’t have some witty reply ready. He would let you take care of him. But neither of you were ready to admit that.

The staff that worked in the Pitt that night would be undeniably changed for the rest of their lives. What happened that night was horrific but it also made you so incredibly grateful for your found family.

————————————————————————

thank you for all the love on the last part!

#the pitt x reader #the pitt #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot

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muttoncon · 2 days ago

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i saw the vampire mel au someone suggested and i raise vampire frank for ur consideration. frank, on the verge of sucking patients dry, stealing blood from the hospital just to survive, seeing mel willingly donate her own blood during the mass casualty event? omg. freaked out vampire frank and unbothered ethical blood donor mel… this has been bouncing around in my head. hope u enjoy

i’m like a sleeper agent when i hear someone talk about vampires so this will be a looooooong ass post. however fair warning my bestie/old roommate is a huge horror fan so they have lowkey made me a lil toooo freaky abt vampires so like... teehee (quick shoutout to my health science bestie for helping me with medical shit)

mel finding out that frank is vampire and he's so fucking nervous about it but she's like "oh! you can just drink mine!" and of course he jumps to conclusion of drinking it straight from the source but really she's suggesting stealing blood donation equipment and just handing him bags. it's the safest option but... man did he wanna drink right from her neck smh

after doing a few quick google searches you can safely donate whole blood about 6 times a year (every 56 days) and they take about a pint (or 2 cups) of blood each time. i am of the freak variety that believes that vampires should also be cannibals. this will be important for later.

anyways! they continue this cycle of mel bagging her own blood for frank, him drinking just the bare minimum to keep himself going, and stealing a bit from the hospital to supplement what mel can't safely give. frank is... getting by. he's not doing great! but he's not starving so it's better than nothing.

mel, however, is constantly worried about him. he's told her before that he's basically only drinking the minimum amount of blood possible so that he doesn't die. she wants him to feel full, to feel good, not just fine. and she's lamenting about how she's so sad that she has a whole week of bleeding blood that isn't actually drinkable blood, because menstrual blood has uterine tissue and just ugh it's such a waste.

now frank has the option of either being a good guy and telling mel not to worry about him or admitting to her that vampires can eat raw human meat as well. he is a selfish, selfish bastard and decides to go with option 2. mel is delighted. the only problem being that period blood doesnt really store the same as actual blood, so frank has to be even more of a fucking weirdo and wait around (or sneak into) the bathroom with mel while she's on her period to take shots from her fucking diva cup. (god he just wants to eat her out but he's tryna be somewhat of a gentleman).

somewhere along the line they start actually dating. and that's really dangerous. because now he has access to her body in ways he didn't before. he can get close enough to her neck to smell the blood pumping through her jugular, can kiss up her arms and trace her cephalic veins, when he spreads her legs to eat her out he mouths over her femoral. just fucking torturing himself.

mel gets a little caught up in it all and starts letting him eat her out during her period. it's a nice way to ease her cramps and he looks really good with blood all over his mouth. she starts to really consider letting him drink from her arm (the neck is a little too scary). he's so considerate that she trusts he'll stop when she tells him to.

frank, once again, is selfish and ignores all the major red flags in this logic. it's like having sex without a condom, there's not a real difference in the feeling, but your mind tells you there is. blood is blood, but god does it taste better when he's sucking it from a live body.

so they decide to try it on a night where they'll both have the day off the next day. mel eats an iron heavy diet for a week in preparation (she'd started taking supplements when this all started but it never hurts to be extra prepared!), they buy new sheets for her bed in case it gets a little messy, and buy new cute band-aids to patch her up when he's done.

it's very romantic. they light some candles, frank made the bed so that mel is perfectly propped up against the pillows, she's dressed in a cute silk nightie so he has full access to her arms, he even gives her a nice massage so she's all relaxed. he's sitting next to her supine body, gently holding her arm up to his mouth, looking to her for one last confirmation that this is okay, and once she nods it's like he blacks out.

his teeth sink in and once mel gets over that quick shock of pain in her arm, she watches frank close his eyes and feast. now she's donated enough times to know that it usually takes about 11 minutes, but frank keeps going even after her little timer goes off. mel starts squirming a little but all that does is make frank bite down harder and fuck it's really starting to hurt. she's feeling faint and she keeps calling out to him but it's like he's in his own little world. small droplets escape the corners of his lips and mel is so fucking scared but she can't help but think that frank looks so beautiful.

all mel wants is for frank to be happy, to be well fed, and if that means she might die then she's okay with that. maybe it's this acceptance of death that wakes frank from his blood-drunk stupor -she didn't even say anything, just went limp and calm - but he extracts his fangs from her forearm in a panic. she's weak but awake enough to answer questions and softly smile at him. frank patches her up, makes her take a few gulps of a protein drink, and tucks her into bed.

frank decides that he'll stick to just drinking from bags. unless it's a special occasion, then maybe he'll bite (ba dum tshhhh)

#vampire au #suggestive #kinda #melfrank #kingdon #i held back a bit im ngl #the fear factor of vampires is what i find the most sexy #but ik that might not be what most ppl love #i want mel to be lowkey scared of that man hehehehe #(the crowd boos)

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hyunjuisfinal · 3 days ago

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Silk Ribbons

dom!Hyunju x sub!fem!Reader (wlw)

TW: Consensual D/s, mild bondage (wrist restraints), possessive behavior, praise kink, mild marking, sensual NSFW themes, implied wlw, soft power dynamics, and affectionate aftercare.

Your phone vibrates once on the bedside table.

One new message from Hyunju.

Be ready. 8 PM. Don’t wear anything under the dress.

Your breath hitches — you’re lying on your stomach, half-reading a book you’ve already forgotten the plot of. It’s always like this with Hyunju: she writes so little, but somehow you feel every word slide under your skin.

You check the time. 7:12 PM. Not enough time, but too much all at once.

You tug open your closet. She likes you in black — you pick the soft slip dress she once tugged down your shoulders without ever unzipping it.

By the time you’ve brushed your hair smooth and dabbed your favorite perfume behind your ears, your hands are trembling just a little. You feel ridiculous standing in your tiny room, wearing this much nothing, but you know that’s exactly how she wants you: soft, waiting, hers.

When the doorbell rings at 7:59, you’re already standing by the door. She likes that, too.

⸻

Hyunju stands in the hallway like she owns it. A simple black coat drapes over her shoulders, hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, red lipstick so perfect it looks painted on just for you.

She doesn’t say hi. She doesn’t have to.

“Turn around.” Her voice is smooth as silk, threaded through with that quiet command that always leaves you pliant.

You do as you’re told. She steps inside, closes the door behind you, and you feel the brush of her coat sleeve as she passes.

Her hands are at your shoulders, fingers grazing your collarbone. She hums — pleased.

“No straps,” she says, and you can hear her smile against your ear. “Good girl.”

The praise blooms in your chest.

⸻

You don’t remember how you got to the bedroom — just her touch at the small of your back, the soft click of her heels on your floorboards, the faint scent of her perfume mixing with yours.

She sits you at the edge of your bed, lifts your chin with a single finger. You look up at her and you can’t help it — your knees press together, your palms clutch the sheets.

Hyunju laughs — a quiet, low sound that makes your stomach twist with anticipation.

“Hands,” she says.

You offer them without question. She pulls silk ribbons from her coat pocket — black, matching your dress. She binds your wrists together, knotting them so gently it almost feels like affection instead of restraint.

“You trust me?” she asks. Her eyes meet yours — dark, warm, patient.

You nod, breathless. “Yes.”

“That’s my good girl.”

⸻

Time dissolves after that — her hands tugging the hem of your dress higher, the ghost of her lips brushing your throat, the delicate drag of her teeth over your pulse. She doesn’t rush — Hyunju never rushes. She wants you to feel every moment, every inch of her claim.

She pushes you back against the pillows, climbs over you with a grace that makes you ache. Her knee nudges your thighs apart, and you shiver at the sudden cool air against your skin.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmurs, fingers trailing the silk binding your wrists. “Soft. Waiting for me.”

You whisper her name — a soft plea, a question.

“I know,” she soothes, thumb brushing your lower lip. “I know exactly what you want.”

⸻

She kisses you — slow at first, savoring. Her tongue sweeps your mouth like she’s tasting something expensive she plans to hoard for herself. You gasp when she pulls back just enough to bite your lower lip.

“Stay still,” she warns. You nod — you’d agree to anything.

Her hands slide down your sides, fingertips brushing the soft dip of your waist, your hips. You can’t help but shift beneath her — she hushes you with a quiet tsk.

“Good girls stay still,” she reminds you.

Your bound hands clench. She notices — of course she does. She always does.

⸻

Her touch is everywhere — trailing heat down your stomach, pressing tiny, possessive marks into your inner thigh. She doesn’t need to say a word — her fingers speak for her.

You arch when she leans in, mouth ghosting over your chest. The way she drags her lips, then teeth, then tongue — each pass a promise that leaves you trembling.

She looks up at you once, eyes dark, lips parted just enough to show a flash of teeth.

“You’re doing so well,” she whispers. “Taking what I give you. Letting me make you mine.”

A soft noise escapes your throat — part whimper, part thank you.

⸻

You lose track of how long she keeps you there — pinned under her mouth and hands, floating in the warmth of her praise and the sharp edge of her control.

When your legs tremble too much, she eases back, trailing kisses up your stomach, your collarbone, your jaw. She presses her forehead to yours, breathing you in like she can’t get enough.

“Such a good girl,” she says again, and your whole body shivers at the warmth in her voice.

She kisses you softer this time — slow, deep, sweet. Like she’s winding you back down from the edge she held you on so long.

⸻

When she unties your wrists, her fingers brush your skin with the same care she uses for silk ribbons and lace lingerie she peels off you only when she’s ready.

She rubs your wrists gently, kisses each one.

“You did so well for me tonight,” she murmurs, thumb stroking the faint marks left by the silk. “Did you like being my good girl?”

You nod, dazed and warm in her arms. “Always.”

Hyunju smiles — the real smile, the one she saves for moments like this, when it’s just you and her and the world outside could disappear for all she cares.

She pulls you close, lets you tuck your head into the crook of her neck. You feel her fingers in your hair, soothing, grounding.

⸻

Later, when she tucks the blanket over your bare shoulders and you drift off against her, you feel the silk ribbon still tied in your hair — a quiet reminder that even when you’re soft, even when you’re sleeping, you’re still hers.

And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

⸻

End.

#dom!hyunju #sub!reader #wlw #smut #fem!reader #aftercare #hyun ju x reader #squid game

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tis-i-dezzi · 3 days ago

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Its washday and while I am doing my hair I had to obsess over the LADS men. They would be so cool over curly hair and would absolutely help out during wash day. I am furious why aren't they real? 😤

Super self indulgent Headcanons for Curly hair/black readers (I mention a lot of black hairstyles. 🤷Don't like don't read) Also me crying about the boys not being real.

Rafayel:

-I need him during wash day. He would absolutely love to condition my hair and comb it. 🥺

-If he helped style it I can see him getting like pearls or beads to add at the end of any braid or twist. 🥺

-He would love it if any of our products smell like the sea. 😭

-Would join in a skincare mask while waiting for the deep conditioner mask to set in.

-I think his favorite is passion twists or micro braids. Again I think it's because he can adorn them with little beads and trinkets, but also he just thinks you look like the ethereal Goddess you are when you rock them.

Caleb:

-Knows your curl type, what products you use and don't use, also has a comprehensive list of ingredients you like in products or don't like.

-Will do EVERYTHING when we are doing our hair!! He has done his research because our baby loves us!!! 😭🥹💖

-Shoot, even if you don't trust him to do your hair he is helpful in other ways! He would cook/feed you while you do your hair, get hot combs ready, make sure you have plenty of clips or freshly cleaned combs...I just need this man in my life. 😭

- If he has a favorite hair style I think he likes space buns, assuming you knew each other when you were younger it would be nostalgic for him, if not it's still cute.

-I could also see him liking short curly hair. 👀 I mean why wouldn't he? It's soft cropped close to your scalp and he can see more of your beautiful face and neck! Of course he loves it. 🥰🥰🥰

Sylus

-He would be confused, but he would put so much effort into helping us.

-Like sure he could spend the money on a really great hairstylist/braider/loctician, but honestly I think he'd enjoy the time spent with you and getting to pamper you as well.

-I will say speaking of money though, I know he can buy some high quality wigs and I respect that about him, but we ain't talking about that.

-God, he'd make a day out of it by putting on a great record getting snacks and making sure you get your meals in while he watches or tries to braid your hair.

-He mostly likes watching because it's really impressive to see the kind of in depth styles you can create.

-I think he likes cornrows esp if there is an intricate pattern to it. I genuinely think he'd find it pretty and Impressive that you can do it because he sure can't.

-OOOOOH!!!! ok this might just be me in my brain doing a brain thing, but if you pull out the tooth brush to lay down the edges I know he is gonna look confused and make a silly comment like "oh you plan on brushing your hair?" Haha. However when the edges are laid! He sees how the baby hairs are laid in an almost similar flow as the cornrows and he just marvels at how it ties everything together. Sylus why aren't you real?! 😭

Zayne

- The softest of all the combers, idc what y'all say. 😭 Call me delulu but I know he can detangle anything from my hair with ease and without it hurting. lmao!

-When you mentioned you were braiding your hair he felt super confident in helping because the kids in the pediatric ward taught him how to braid, but when he saw how fast you moved, he felt his confidence shatter. 😭 It's ok baby it takes practice.

-Loves running his fingers in our hair while it's wet.

-No complaints on how long it takes to do our hair, he is super patient and is willing to wait for us. 😌 That's why he's perfect.

-I firmly believe Zayne's favorite hairstyle is a ponytail or bun, which makes me think he would love the pineapple hairstyle or when we like a twist or braid on each side of our head to pull back into our bun. Sorry I don't actually know the name of the style, but it looks like a crown to him and it makes him want to give you the world.

Xavier

-AHHHH this sweet man!!!! Totally doesn't understand what is going on, but bless him he focuses so hard and probably takes notes because he wants to help and be there for us on wash/style days!!!

-The way he would do extra research too and send us videos or pics of styles or ask about products. 😭😭😭 XAVIER CAN YOU BECOME REAL PLEASE!?

-He is such a slow braider but bless his sweet heart he is trying.

-Loves how all hair products smell, I swear he just lives in the natural hair care aisle. 😂

-Also maybe a dumb Xavier headcanon, but I think he cuts his own hair which is why his bangs are sort of choppy so when you mention needing a trim he kind of offers and you panic a little Inside.

-I think he'd like either it pretty natural or a fro. I just imagine him coming up behind you during claw machine time and just pushing his face into hair because it smells so good. You'd probably be upset because it's messing it up, and he tries to de-smush it for you as an apology. Be nice to him he just loves you. 🥺

If you read this far I love you. 🥺 Thank you for indulging me.

#lads #love and deepspace #no one is going to like this its too niche #lads zayne #lads sylus #lads xavier #lads caleb #lads rafayel

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tinyshyteacup · 3 days ago

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Taglist: @kellynickelsgirl00 @i-doutt-it @beth-isnt-home @darylandbethfanforever9 @brianna-merlim @pumpkinkpieandtomato @smashleywow @imadisneyprincessiswear @clementineslawyer @pandaofsilentdeath @dixonsbridexx @imadisneyprincessiswear @staley83 @death-in-a-tar0t-card @straw--b3rry

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TW: cussing, Merle is well ... Merle, angst, walkers (Zombies), gaslighting, manipulation, boxing match, bleeding, vomit, alcohol consumption, violence, Woodbury, the Governor.

Part 10

Between Brothers - Part 11

The winter had settled over Woodbury like a heavy blanket, thick and unforgiving. The frost crunched under Merle's boots as he made his way to the pits, his breath forming white clouds in the frigid air. The cold bit through his jacket, but it was nothing compared to the bite of survival you'd known before Woodbury.

Damn glad the she's warm inside, he thought, adjusting his grip on the metal pole he used for walker wrangling. Curled up under them blankets in those thick winter pajamas, probably still sleepin' like an angel. Wonder if she's dreamin' about me... bet she is, deep down. Bet she's got her legs all tangled up in them sheets, that thick flannel riding up just enough to show off them pretty thighs.

The thought made him grin despite the cold, his body responding to the mental images. Living in the same apartment, sharing the same space - it was torture and paradise all rolled into one. You trusted him completely, padding around in those winter pajamas like he wasn't a man with needs.

But he was patient. Had to be. You were the kind of girlie who deserved better than a one-handed redneck with more scars than sense. Still didn't stop him from wanting to spread you out on that kitchen table and eat you like his last meal, make you come so hard you'd forget every other man who ever existed.

"Ah, Merle! Right on time," Milton called out from beside the walker pits, his breath visible in the cold air. He was bundled up in layers, looking like a scarecrow wrapped in blankets. "We've got quite the selection today. Three fresh specimens, minimal decay."

"Morning to you too, Milty," Merle drawled, eyeing the walkers shuffling around in the pit below. "You sure are cheerful for a man about to poke at dead folks."

Milton adjusted his glasses, seemingly immune to Merle's sarcasm. "Science waits for no one, not even winter. These cold temperatures are actually quite beneficial - slows decomposition, gives us better data on motor function in sub-zero conditions."

Merle lowered the noose-pole into the pit, expertly snaring the first walker around the neck. The thing snarled and clawed at the air, its movements sluggish from the cold. "You know what your problem is, Milty? You think too damn much. Sometimes a dead bastard is just a dead bastard."

"Perhaps, but understanding their behavioral patterns could be crucial for long-term survival strategies." Milton made notes on his clipboard as Merle hauled the walker up. "Speaking of behavioral patterns, how is your ... roommate?"

Merle's grip tightened on the pole, his jaw clenching. Last time Milton had gotten too friendly was at that community dinner, filling your head with theories about biters retaining consciousness. Merle had found you later, crying your eyes out over the possibility that every walker they'd killed might have been aware, might have been screaming inside their own heads. Took him the better part of two hours to calm you down, and even then you'd been shaky for days.

"Say what now?" Merle's voice carried a warning edge.

"Your friend Merle. I was simply wondering how is cohabitation with someone who isn't actually your romantic partner going for you ?." Milton said it so matter-of-factly, like he was discussing the weather. "It must create certain... moral issues."

The walker Merle was restraining suddenly seemed less important than the skinny scientist standing too close to subjects that weren't his business. "What the hell you getting at, Milty?"

"Nothing untoward, I assure you. It's just that from an anthropological standpoint, the dynamic is fascinating. Two unrelated adults sharing intimate living space, one clearly harboring romantic inclinations while the other remains unaw—"

"You finish that sentence and I'm gonna feed you to these biters piece by piece," Merle snarled, his voice dropping to something dangerous. The walker in his grip thrashed harder, as if sensing the tension. "And let me make something real clear to you, you piece of shit - I take care of that girl. Make sure she's safe, make sure nothing bad happens to her. She trusts me, and I damn well earned that trust."

His eyes blazed with fury at the implication. "You think I'd hurt her? You think I'd take something she didn't want to give? Boy, you don't know shit about me or what kind of man I am when it comes to her."

Milton shrank back further, realizing he'd stepped over a line he didn't even know existed.

"I protect my own," Merle continued, his voice low and deadly. "Don't you dare stand there and act like I'm some kind of animal who can't control himself around the girlie's."

Milton took a step back, his face pale. "I didn't mean to overstep—"

"Remember what happened last time you got a little too friendly with my girl?" Merle's eyes were cold as the winter air. "When you filled her head with all that bullshit about biters being conscious, made her cry thinking about all the people we might've killed? You remember how that ended for you?"

"Yes," Milton whispered, unconsciously touching his jaw where Merle had connected with his fist after finding you sobbing in the apartment.

"Good. 'Cause next time I catch you upsetting her with your sick theories or sniffing around, there won't be enough left of you for your precious experiments." Merle secured the walker to the restraining table with practiced efficiency. "She's got enough nightmares without you adding to 'em."

Milton nodded frantically, scurrying to the truck. The rest of their interaction was purely professional, the scientist having learned his lesson about boundaries.

Little doe don't need some four-eyed freak putting ideas in her head, Merle thought as he worked, his mind drifting back to filthier thoughts. She's confused enough as it is, bless her heart. Always asking me if I'm alright, if I need anything, bending over in those damn pajamas like she don't know what she does to me just by breathing.

The cold air did nothing to cool the heat building in his gut. Months of living with you, months of wanting what he couldn't have.

After delivering three walkers to Milton's makeshift laboratory, Merle was heading back through town when the Governor intercepted him.

"Merle! Just the man I wanted to see." The Governor's smile was warm despite the cold, like he had some secret that pleased him. "Walk with me. I have a proposition that might interest you."

They strolled through the quiet streets, past windows glowing with warm light and the promise of domestic tranquility. Merle found himself thinking about you again, probably awake by now, maybe making that coffee that always smelled better when you made it. Girl's got magic hands, he thought, remembering how you'd fixed his stump so gently, never once looking at him like he was broken.

"You know, Merle," the Governor said, his voice thoughtful, "I've been watching you these past few weeks. Impressive work on the supply runs, excellent instincts on patrol. But I can't help feeling like we're not utilizing your full potential."

Here we go, Merle thought, his radar pinging. Man wants something. Question is what.

"I need you to do something for me," the Governor said, breaking into his thoughts. "Something that requires your particular skill set."

"What kind of something?" Merle kept his voice neutral, but his eyes were already scanning for exits. Old habits.

The Governor led him to a secured building Merle had never been inside. When they entered, the smell hit him first - death and decay, but controlled, contained. There were several walkers chained to the walls, their movements restricted but not entirely eliminated. The setup was too organized, too deliberate to be just storage.

"I need you to remove their teeth and fingernails," the Governor said casually, like he was asking Merle to fix a leaky faucet.

Merle stared at the walkers, then at the Governor. "You want me to what now?"

"Teeth and fingernails. All of them. Make them safe but keep them... functional."

Safe but functional. What the hell does that mean? Merle's survival instincts were pinging like crazy. Nothing about this felt right. "Safe for what?"

The Governor smiled that politician's smile of his, the one that made promises without saying anything concrete. "Entertainment."

"Come again?"

"Picture this, Merle." The Governor gestured grandly, like he was painting a vision in the air. "An arena. Crowds cheering. Skilled fighters facing off against each other surrounded by defanged opponents in controlled combat. Give people something to cheer for, something to take their minds off the harshness of our reality."

An arena. With walkers. Merle's first instinct was to call the man crazy, but something in the Governor's tone made him pause. The man wasn't crazy - he was calculating. This wasn't some random idea, this was a plan.

"You want people fighting walkers for fun?" Merle asked slowly.

"Not just any people. Heroes. Men like you, Merle." The Governor's eyes gleamed with enthusiasm, or maybe something darker. "You've got the skills, the presence, the natural charisma that commands attention. People would see what I see - a warrior, a protector, someone willing to risk everything for their community."

Damn, when he puts it like that... Despite his better judgment, Merle found himself considering it. He'd done worse things for worse people, back when he was breaking legs for money. At least this had a purpose, gave him a chance to show off what he could do. Lord knows I got skills worth showin' off.

"Think about it," the Governor continued, his voice taking on that persuasive quality that had convinced Merle to stay in Woodbury in the first place. "Controlled environment. Declawed opponents. You'd be in complete control, showing off decades of survival experience to an appreciative audience."

The Governor began pacing, his hands animated as he painted the picture. "People are getting soft, Merle. Comfortable. They're forgetting what it takes to survive out there, forgetting to appreciate the men who keep them safe. This would remind them. This would make them remember that they need warriors like you."

Warriors like me. Usually, people called him a lot of things - redneck, asshole, liability - but never warrior. Never hero.

"You'd be the star of Woodbury," the Governor pressed, reading Merle's expression perfectly. "The man everyone looks up to. The champion they cheer for. And your girl..." He paused meaningfully. "She'd see you as the hero you really are. Women love a champion, Merle. Love a man who can provide not just safety, but excitement."

Hell, maybe he's right, Merle thought, his imagination running wild. He could picture it clearly - you in the crowd, watching him take down opponents with skill and showmanship. Your eyes wide with admiration instead of that careful wariness you sometimes got when you thought he wasn't looking. Lil doe's been cooped up all winter, probably bored out of her pretty little mind. Could use some excitement in her life.

"People need this," the Governor continued, his voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial. "They need to remember what it feels like to cheer for something, to feel alive. Winter's been hard on everyone. Morale is low. But give them a spectacle, give them a reason to feel proud of their community, their protectors..."

The Governor moved closer, his voice taking on that intimate quality that made you feel like you were sharing secrets. "You're exactly the kind of man who can give that to them, Merle. You've got that natural swagger, that confidence that makes people pay attention. And after everything you've survived, everything you've overcome..."

"You really think I could do this?" Merle asked, trying to sound casual even as his chest swelled with pride. Christ, when did I start needin' validation like some kind of puppy?

"I don't think, Merle. I know." The Governor's voice was full of conviction. "You're brutal when you need to be, smart when it counts, and you've got that natural charisma that makes people remember you. Plus, you've survived this long with that disability of yours. That's not just impressive - that's inspiring. That's the kind of story people need to hear."

Most people tiptoed around his missing hand like it was something shameful, something to be whispered about behind his back. The Governor made it sound like a badge of honor, proof of his toughness rather than evidence of his failures.

"Think about the message it sends," the Governor continued, warming to his theme. "Here's a man who lost his hand and kept fighting. Who adapted, who overcame, who didn't let anything stop him from protecting what matters. That's heroic, Merle. That's legendary."

The word hit Merle right in his ego. He'd spent his whole life being the redneck, the loose canon, the one who couldn't be trusted with anything important. Daryl was the tracker, the sensitive one, the only one capable of kindness ... Hell, thats why Daddy had spent years beating the breath out of them. Merle was just the muscle, the wild card who caused more problems than he solved.

But here was the Governor, looking at him like he saw something worth respecting. Like he saw potential that went beyond just being good at hurting people.

"Ain't like I got much else goin' for me. Might as well put on a show if people want to see one."

"Don't sell yourself short," the Governor said smoothly. "You've got more going for you than you realize. Your girl certainly seems to think so."

My girl. The possessive warmth that spread through Merle's chest at those words was stronger than whiskey. You weren't his girl, not really, but the way the Governor said it made it sound like a fact rather than wishful thinking.

"She's been through a lot," Merle found himself saying. "Deserves to feel safe, to have something good to look forward to. Maybe even feel proud of the man who's been lookin' out for her."

"Exactly." The Governor's smile was triumphant, like Merle had just proved his point. "She'll get to see you for what you really are - not just a survivor, but a champion. The kind of man who doesn't just endure, but conquers."

The praise settled into Merle's chest like warm whiskey, filling up spaces he hadn't even realized were empty. When was the last time someone had called him a champion? When had anyone ever seen potential in a Dixon beyond there capacity for violence?

"'Course," Merle said, his voice carefully casual, "if I'm gonna do this, I want guarantees about safety protocols. And I want to make sure my girl's taken care of if something goes wrong."

"Of course," the Governor said immediately, like he'd been expecting this concern. "Your girl will have the best seat in the house, right beside me in the where she'll be completely safe."

The image was seductive - you dressed up nice, sitting in a place of honor, watching him perform like the warrior he'd always known he could be.

"She'll get to watch her man become a legend," the Governor continued, his voice full of certainty. "Watch him become the hero this town needs. And trust me, Merle - there's nothing more attractive to a woman than watching her man succeed."

Her man. There it was again, that possessive warmth. The Governor kept saying it like it was true, like you belonged to him in some way.

"Alright," Merle said finally, his decision crystallizing. "I'll do it."

"Wonderful" The Governor extended his hand, and Merle shook it with his good one.

As they walked back through town, Merle found himself standing a little straighter, his chest a little more puffed out. For the first time in longer than he could remember, someone was counting on him for something other than just raw violence. Someone saw him as more than just a useful psychopath.

The first night of the arena fights, the cold seemed less biting somehow, warmed by the excitement of sixty-eight people gathered around a makeshift ring. They'd constructed it out the back of the old warehouse, with bleacher seating and flood lights that made everything seem theatrical, larger than life.

You sat beside the Governor, bundled up in every warm piece of clothing you owned, your breath visible in small puffs despite the heaters they'd brought in. He pressed a warm mug into your hands - mulled wine that smelled of cinnamon and cloves, a luxury you hadn't tasted since before the world ended.

"Drink up," he said with a paternal smile. "It'll help with the cold."

The wine was sweet and warming, spreading heat through your chest as you sipped it. The crowd was buzzing with anticipation, voices raised in excited chatter and bets being placed, but you felt sick to your stomach despite the alcohol's mellowing effect.

"Magnificent turnout," the Governor said, his voice warm with satisfaction. "Look at their faces - they're alive again. This is what community looks like."

You nodded absently, your eyes searching the crowd for familiar faces, trying to gauge how many people were actually excited versus how many were just going along with it. The energy was infectious, you had to admit, but something about it felt wrong.

"I'm not sure about this," you said quietly, your accent making the words sound smaller somehow. The wine was making you feel floaty, less sharp around the edges. "What if someone gets hurt? What if—"

"That's exactly the point," the Governor interrupted gently, refilling your mug before his hand found yours and squeezed reassuringly. "The possibility of danger, the thrill of survival - it reminds us what we're living for. What we're fighting to protect."

You took another sip of the mulled wine, the warmth spreading through your limbs and making the harsh lights seem softer, more forgiving.

The crowd suddenly roared, and you looked up to see Merle strutting into the ring like he owned it, his knife-hand gone leaving only the metal prosthetic glinting under the lights, his grin wide and confident. He was shirtless despite the cold, his chest puffed out with masculine bravado, scars and tattoos telling the story of a life lived hard.

"WOODBURY!" he bellowed, raising his arms to the crowd. "Y'all ready to see some real entertainment?"

The response was deafening. People were on their feet, screaming his name, and you could see him feeding off their energy, puffing up with pride and showmanship like he was born for this moment.

He looks so... happy, you thought, confused by the mixture of pride and terror warring in your chest. You'd never seen him like this - completely in his element, beloved by a crowd, the center of attention in the best possible way.

A younger man entered the ring, lean and wiry with the compact build of someone who'd learned to fight out of necessity rather than choice. He looked nervous but determined, his eyes finding someone in the crowd - a woman with worry etched across her face.

"Oh God," you whispered, realizing this wasn't just entertainment. These were real people with real relationships, real stakes. "His girlfriend's watching."

"Wife, actually," the Governor said conversationally. "Just married last month. Sweet ceremony. She's worried, of course, but Crowley insisted. Pride, you know how it is."

Your stomach dropped. This wasn't just a show - it was two men risking everything for the approval of people they barely knew. You took a larger gulp of wine, trying to steady your nerves, but it only made the lights seem brighter, the crowd's energy more intoxicating.

Then they released the walkers - three of them, stumbling and reaching but somehow less threatening than usual. It took you a moment to realize why, no teeth, no fingernails, just grasping hands and empty mouths that couldn't tear flesh.

"Brilliant, isn't it?" the Governor said, leaning closer so you could hear him over the crowd. "All the excitement, none of the real danger. Though don't tell the audience that - they need to believe there's genuine risk. The fear has to feel real, even if it isn't."

You watched in horrified fascination as both men began to move, circling each other while keeping one eye on the declawed walkers. Merle was in his element, trash-talking and showboating, but Crowley was all business - focused, methodical, treating this like the life-or-death struggle it appeared to be.

"Come on, boy!" Merle called out, his voice carrying that familiar mix of condescension and amusement. "You gonna dance with me or you gonna let them dead bastards do all the work?"

Crowley didn't respond, just kept moving, and you realized he was smart - letting Merle wear himself out with the theatrics while conserving his own energy. But the crowd was eating up Merle's performance, cheering every taunt, every swagger.

The first real exchange came when one of the walkers got too close to Crowley. Merle used the distraction to rush in, throwing a wild haymaker that Crowley barely ducked. The younger man came up with an uppercut that caught Merle in the jaw, drawing a grunt and an approving roar from the crowd.

"Now we're talkin'!" Merle laughed, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. "Got some fight in you after all!"

They circled each other again, both men breathing hard now, sweat gleaming under the harsh lights despite the cold. You found yourself leaning forward, caught up despite yourself in the brutal ballet playing out before you. The wine had loosened something in your chest, made you feel more present and yet somehow detached from the violence.

"Another?" the Governor asked quietly, already refilling your mug. The gesture seemed so normal, so civilized, that it made the brutality in the ring feel almost surreal.

Merle threw a combination - left hook, right cross - but Crowley slipped both punches and countered with a body shot that doubled Merle over. The crowd's roar shifted, some cheering for the underdog now, others yelling for Merle to get up and fight back.

"This is what they need," the Governor said in your ear, his voice almost reverent. "Look at them - they're unified, focused on something other than their fears. This brings them together."

But you were focused on Merle, who was straightening up with that familiar stubborn set to his jaw that meant someone was about to pay dearly for underestimating him. His eyes had gone cold, calculating, and you recognized the shift from showman to predator. The wine made everything seem slightly dreamlike, softening the edges of your worry into something more manageable.

"Alright, college boy," he growled, his prosthetic catching the light as he raised his hands. "Playtime's over."

What followed was a masterclass in brutal efficiency. Merle might be older, might be missing a hand, but he'd been fighting longer than Crowley had been alive. He used every dirty trick in the book - an elbow to the temple, a knee to the solar plexus, even using one of the chained walkers as a shield when Crowley tried to tackle him.

The crowd was going wild, on their feet screaming, but you found yourself gripping the Governor's arm without realizing it, your movements slightly unsteady from the wine. This was too real, too visceral. You could see the fear in Crowley's eyes as he realized he was outmatched, could hear his wife screaming from the stands.

"Stop it," you whispered, but your voice was lost in the roar of the crowd. The alcohol made your tongue feel thick, your protests less sharp than they should have been.

Merle had Crowley backed against the chain-link now, landing punch after punch while the younger man tried desperately to cover up. Blood was streaming from Crowley's nose, his left eye already swelling shut.

"That's enough!" you found yourself on your feet, shouting. "Stop the fight!"

But no one could hear you over the crowd, or if they could, they weren't listening. This was what they'd come to see - raw, primal combat that reminded them they were still alive.

Merle stepped back suddenly, his chest heaving, and for a moment you thought he was going to show mercy. Instead, he turned to the crowd, arms raised, drinking in their adoration.

"Y'all want more?" he bellowed, and the answering roar shook the walls.

That moment of showboating nearly cost him. Crowley, summoning reserves he didn't know he had, launched himself off the fence in a desperate tackle that sent both men crashing to the ground. They rolled, grappling, each trying to gain the dominant position while the walkers strained against their chains just feet away.

Crowley ended up on top, raining down punches, but Merle's experience showed. He bucked his hips, rolled, and suddenly Crowley was on his back with Merle's prosthetic pressed against his throat.

"Give up pretty boy," Merle snarled, not loud enough for the crowd to hear but clear enough for you to read his lips.

Crowley's face was turning red, his hands clawing at the metal cutting off his air supply. His wife was screaming from the stands, and you found yourself half-standing again, torn between horror and fascination.

Finally, desperately, Crowley tapped out.

Merle held the position for just a moment longer - before releasing his hold and standing up. Crowley gasped and rolled onto his side, alive but thoroughly beaten.

Merle basked in it, arms raised, bloody and victorious, looking like some ancient gladiator who'd just conquered Rome. His eyes found yours in the crowd, and the grin he gave you was pure predatory satisfaction.

When it was over, when the crowd had finally dispersed and the fighters had been helped away, you sat in the sudden quiet feeling hollowed out and strangely exhilarated. The wine had left you with more then a pleasant buzz that made everything seem slightly unreal, like you'd watched a particularly vivid dream rather than actual violence.

Through the haze of alcohol, you could see Merle making his way through the dispersing crowd, sweat still gleaming on his chest, blood spattered across his knuckles, the metal cap catching the flickering light like a blade.

"Is Crowley... will he be alright?, " you said, your accent thick with drink and emotion. The brutality you'd witnessed had shaken you more than you cared to admit.

The Governor's smile didn't waver, but something cold flickered in his eyes. "Crowley knew what he was getting into. Sometimes a man has to pay the price for challenging his betters."

Before you could ask what he meant, Merle was there, still breathing hard from the fight, his good hand reaching for you.

"Hey sugar" Merle said, his voice rough with adrenaline. His eyes were still bright with the violence he'd just unleashed, and when he looked at you, there was something predatory in his gaze that you'd never seen before.

"Well, Merle, she's all yours now," the Governor said, his words carrying weight that made your skin crawl even through your intoxicated state. "Been asking for you all evening, haven't you, sweetheart? Couldn't take her eyes off you during the fight."

The dismissal was clear, as you were being guided away from the arena, Merle's hand firm on your back as he steered you through the cooling night air toward your shared apartment.

Everything felt strange, like you were floating slightly outside your own body. "The way you fought... your strong... but Merle, you didn't have to be so rough with Crowley. He's just—"

"Crowley's fine," Merle cut you off, his voice sharp with leftover aggression. "Man wanted to test himself against me, he got what he asked for. That's how it works in the real world, lil-doe. Strong survive, weak learn their place."

His casual dismissal of the other man's pain echoed the Governor's words in a way that made your stomach churn. This wasn't like Merle - or maybe it was exactly like him, and you'd just never seen this side before.

It wasn't until he got you inside your apartment, closing the door behind you both with a finality that seemed to echo in the small space, that Merle really looked at you. His expression shifted from satisfied to concerned as he took in your flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, and the way you swayed slightly even standing still.

"Sugar... how much hooch did you have ?"

"Not much," you protested, though the words came out slightly slurred. "The Governor kept... he said it would help with the cold, and I didn't want to be rude... kept bringing me more..."

Understanding dawned in Merle's eyes, followed quickly by anger. "Aw, hell. That son of a bitch." His jaw clenched as pieces clicked into place. "You ain't used to drinkin', are you, lil' doe?"

Before you could answer, your stomach lurched violently. You clapped a hand over your mouth and rushed toward the bathroom, barely making it before the evening's wine came back up. The retching was violent and embarrassing, your body rejecting the alcohol with prejudice as your system tried to purge itself of the unfamiliar poison.

Merle was there immediately, his good hand holding your hair back, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the rage you could feel radiating from him. "Easy now, darlin'. Get it all out."

When the worst of it passed, you slumped against the bathroom wall. Your head was spinning, and the brutality of the fight kept flashing behind your eyelids - the sound of fists hitting flesh, the crowd's bloodthirsty cheers, the way Merle had looked standing over Crowley's fallen form.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I didn't mean to... I'm not used to... and the fight, it was so violent, I—"

"Ain't nothing to apologize for." There was anger in his voice, but not directed at you. "Governor should've known better than to keep pourin' drinks into a little thing like you. Should've been lookin' out for you, not..." He trailed off, his expression darkening as he processed what had really happened.

He helped you to your feet, sitting you on the edge of the bed and knelt to untie your boots, his movements efficient but charged with an energy that made your skin prickle.

"Arms up, darlin'," he said softly, reaching for the hem of your sweater.

The rational part of his mind - the part that wasn't clouded by adrenaline and months of the Governor's carefully planted suggestions - knew this was dangerous territory. You were vulnerable, trusting, barely conscious, and the way you'd looked at him after the fight... made him feel like he was some kind of hero instead of the violent man he really was.

The devil on his shoulder however was working overtime, fueled by months of the Governor's poison about what women really wanted, what men were entitled to after proving their strength.

She's yours for the taking. All soft and doopey, she won't even remember it clearly ... go on, she'd probably thank you after.

These weren't thoughts he'd ever had before Woodbury, before the Governor's subtle comments about conquest.

Merle might've been a bastard, but he'd never been the kind to take advantage of a helpless girl. That was a line he'd never crossed. Not when she can't really choose. Not when she trusts you this much and you'd be betraying every bit of that trust.

You'd seen what he really was in that ring, seen the violence he was capable of, and it had scared you. The realization hit him like a physical blow.

"There we go, sugar," he said, his voice rougher than he intended as he fought his own demons. "Let's get you tucked in."

He guided you under the covers of your own bed - your bed, not his - and pulled the blanket up to your chin. You stirred slightly, and when he moved to gently sweep the hair from your forehead, you flinched. The reaction was small but unmistakable, and it hit him like a slap.

"Jesus," he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. He caught your chin gently, turning your face so you could see him clearly despite your unfocused gaze. "Look at me, I would never put hands on you. Never. You hear me, lil' doe ?"

Your eyes searched his face, some of the fear fading as you saw the sincerity there. He waited until you nodded, until some of the tension left your shoulders, before he stood.

"Get some rest, sugar. I'll be right next door if you need anything."

Merle made his way to his own bedroom, closing the door behind him with barely controlled restraint. Once alone, he scrubbed his hand down his face, the weight of what had almost happened - what he'd almost let the Governor manipulate him into doing - crashing over him like a wave.

With a frustrated growl, he grabbed the empty whiskey bottle from his nightstand and hurled it against the wall. It shattered with a satisfying crash, but it did nothing to quiet the storm of self-loathing and anger churning in his gut.

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