A Guiding Hand

One of the most common reasons I hear for people being against abortion is because “life is sacred.”

Really? Since when? When has life ever been sacred in this country?

If life is sacred, how come we don’t have universal healthcare?

If life is sacred, how come we don’t pass comprehensive gun laws so first graders don’t get gunned down in their classrooms?

If life is sacred, why don’t we offer paid maternal leave so mothers can actually take care of the babies that you are now forcing them to have?

If life is sacred, how come we don’t bat an eye when the police murder black kids?

If life is sacred, why do we have the highest maternal death rate in the developed world, which is only going to increase now that women are being forced to give birth?

If life is sacred, why is the death penalty even still a thing?

If life is sacred, why are we still encouraging violence against the LGBTQ+ community?

Life has literally never been sacred in this country. Maybe anti-choicers like to pretend that it is because it makes them feel righteous when in reality, they’re just misogynistic pieces of shit, but it’s not. And as long as psychotic, reactionary morons continue to steal power undemocratically and make decisions that the majority of us do not want, it never will be.

Shinsosweet -> Flokali

please reblog if you see this >_<))

Snippets of an apocalypse spent with you

Pairing: Rick Grimes x fem reader

Summary: Liking Rick Grimes is not an easy task. Yet loving him comes as naturally as breathing. How you came to see the ugly parts of Rick Grimes, and why that made the good parts more appealing.

Warnings: some slight suicidal thoughts, reader briefly thinks of giving up

Word count: 2.8k

Rick Grimes explodes into the scenes of your life with blaring car alarms and a somewhat stunted family reunion. At first, you had thought nothing of the man, slipping back into the shelter of your own tent once your curiosity of the situation was sated.

It quickly becomes apparent however, that he is not like so many of the others that occupy the shoddily set up quarry campsite. Because Rick Grimes is brave. He is assertive yet still kind and he is a born leader. Yet Rick Grimes is naive, and it is for that reason you find him annoying. He is too soft, he will get himself killed soon enough.

Except that he doesn’t. Not yet. Not even when the CDC had been a complete disaster, and not when he is coordinating searches for a missing Sophia. You did not like children. There was not a maternal bone or inclination in your body. That didn’t stop the sharp stab of empathetic agony that burned in your chest every time you looked at Carol. Nor did it stop you from volunteering to search, under Rick’s command, for a child you knew was already dead. Not that you were heartless enough to say so, nor could you find the energy to rebuff the former officer’s determination. Because for a few moments as his confident gaze met yours, you had believed he would find the lost child too.

Rick is the one who shoots her. Mouth set in a grim line as Carol’s wails of anguish filled the air. Maybe that's when it starts, or maybe it's when he finds out Lori is pregnant. Pregnant with a baby that was incredibly unlikely to be hers.

Time had become all but meaningless, it is only Lori's symptoms that let you estimate how much time has passed since the farm. Morale was incredibly low and everyone was getting snippy with each other. Yet miraculously Rick continued to soldier on, bearing the weight of fear, discontent and even flat out vitriol on his shoulders.

Glenn and Daryl have become a part of the group's pillars, doing their best to alleviate some of the pressure that has unfairly been piled onto Rick. But three months of having no permanent shelter, of living on scraps and small rations was beginning to overpower the three.

You cannot hunt. Have no talent for organising or rallying the group but you would not be useless. You take longer watches, always bookending Rick or Daryl forcing the two to sleep much longer then they had been. The two of them loudly voice their protestations, but you are not moved. Though you do have to become more and more inventive in your endeavour to get Rick to just go the fuck to sleep. You must have endured over a hundred disappointed dad gazes and lectures before he realises you will not relent.

Runs become a bi-weekly activity, and once it becomes apparent you are quiet, fast and listen to instructions well you become one of the main providers.

You and Rick still don't really talk, only quietly discussing future plans and the state of provisions. Which in itself throws you for a massive loop when you begin to get included in those talks. You do, however, talk to his kid. Carl, despite his protestations that he isn't, truly is still a child. All it takes is a scavenged set of Batman detective comics, in an attempt to alleviate Lori's burden, that you had foolishly admitted to reading and the kid begins to stick to you like a bad smell. Apparently, the combined act of a gift and confirmation that you liked superheroes was enough to grant you the spot of number one coolest adult and advisor.

In an annoying trend, the old adage like father like son continues to prove itself. A run had gone south, a horde of walkers materialising from what seemed like thin air, and it is only your quick thinking and improving skills with a knife that keep Rick from becoming walker chow.

To your dismay, this cements you somewhere between Glenn and Daryl in Rick's hierarchy of trustworthy advisors. It also apparently means you are no longer acquaintances brought together by fucked up circumstances, but friends.

The transition is seamless and unspoken. Just as it is when you begin to stand at Rick's 6, watching his back near 24/7. So where Carl has become your shadow, you have become Rick's.

You still don't like kids. Or Rick.

There was no joy when he finally cracked. No vindication to be had in a dead wife and a traumatised child. Only sour sorrow and unsure glances. Because Rick was a time bomb, and one you were not so keen to indulge in. The rest of the group had made poor attempts, walking on eggshells in his presence before backing off to give him some space.

You hadn't. The resulting screaming match that had erupted after you had chased him down when he hadn't made it back to the prison had been legendary. To this day you couldn't entirely remember what you had yelled, only that it had been purposefully hurtful. Rick hadn't gotten a chance to retaliate, the commotion drawing an alarming amount of walkers.

You moved to flank Rick's side, protecting his blindspots without him having to ask. The two of you worked like a well-oiled machine. You blatantly ignored the steps you had taken that would have gotten you killed had Rick not been there, because your body had just moved on instinct, knowing that he would have your back.

By the end of the skirmish, you were panting and wiping walker blood off your face with a grimace. As the adrenaline settled and your chest heaved for oxygen you were quick to search for Rick.

"Are you ok?!" the desperation in your tone took both of you by surprise, even more when you move to check his person and he did not stop you.

The walk back was deafeningly silent, but there seemed to be a newly formed mutual sense of understanding and begrudging trust. Rick had not completely gathered his wits, but he was no longer walking around and talking to the dead anymore. On the downside Rick had begun to actively seek you out.

You learn how he met Lori, how they were having problems, and how Shane had not always been crazy. In turn, you decide it's only fair to offer some tidbits in exchange. Your parents, your last partner, job, favourite colour and more.

The nights he can't speak, no way to articulate his thoughts into words, the two of you just sit silently. The faint growl of walkers and Judith's soft babbles the only noise present.

If one night you fall asleep on his shoulder then neither of you bring it up again.

It isn't until people begin to come to you in order to find Rick that you realise something is up. The smug, knowing glances that Carol keeps throwing you don't help either. Firmly you push down any meanings behind the gestures. Maybe you should ask Rick about it.

You were no stranger to hunger. Hunger was an old acquaintance, one that had crept up on you once more following the fall of the prison. You had vowed that if you ever saw Daryl again you would give him anything he wanted for the rest of your life.

You could not recall how many days had passed since the Governor's attack. Since the screams of fear had filled the air as walkers burst through the gates and into the former safe haven. Since you had rushed through corridors and sprays of gunfire, drowning out the stench of blood and death surrounding you. Judith had been the only thing on your mind as your legs pumped desperately, weaving and doing through the chaotic fray.

But you had been too late. Judith was dead. You were alone. Starving, beyond exhausted and struggling to continue on. Sleep rarely came, with no one to watch your back it had become near impossible to rest alone, and the few hours you could grasp were often tainted with horrific nightmares. More than once you had awoken shaking and with a scream dying on your lips, images of your friends... your family being torn to pieces as you helplessly watched on plaguing your every hour.

Still, you do not give up, will not give up. Not when the depths of your traitorous mind whisper words of hope into your consciousness. Not when they whisper that Rick is still alive. You hate that that is what keeps you going over everything else.

Your breath was coming in increasingly shallow gasps, it is only the solid presence of the stone wall behind you that has kept your upper torso vertical. Her vision is blurry, marred by an accumulation of sweat, blood and tears. You know you are a sitting duck, sequestered in the unfortified pharmacy.

Simply put. You were fucked. Your head was pounding, a concussion gained from carelessly slipping down the stairs. The result of assuming the body lying motionlessly in the corner had already been dispatched. Daryl would have had your hide for such a rookie error.

Cradling your throbbing right wrist to your chest you attempt to stand, only to immeidately become overwhelmed with a wave of nausea and pain. Your situation was so pitiful you could have let out a laugh if you knew it wouldnt hurt.

You had survived the shitshow at the CDC, the overwhelming horde at the farm, eight months on the move with no shelter and limited food, the fall of the prison and so much more. Yet here you were, lying alone, taken out by a hand on the ankle and a flight of stairs.

Maybe it was better this way. No more scavenging, no more pain, no more exhaustion. Your eyes briefly close in consideration, your family would likely never learn what happened to you. You could only hope they would stop looking, hope that they had already given up on you. That they are not too distraught in your absence, you never stop to entertain the fact that they themselves might be dead.

Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, Carol, Michonne... Rick. They were still alive. Because if they weren't then the past weeks of your life had been meaningless.

It is the sound of a door opening, carefully but still enough to make noise that makes the decision for you. The unmistakable approach of a human, not a walker has your eyes snapping open wildly, left hand clutching for your handgun and clicking off the safety.

There is no doubt in your mind that you are about as intimidating as a wet kitten, still, you persist even when your arm shakes with agony and exertion.

Eyes focusing as best they can, you wait until the intrusion of your pity party steps into your line of sight. It's a man with at least a head on you in height, he looks quite lean but neither of those things is what really catches your attention. He is clean and well-groomed. He is part of a community, one where bathing is clearly not an issue. Just before he can turn to see your slumped form you speak up.

"Turn around. Slowly. Hands where I can see them or I shoot." Luckily he complies, and you are quick to order his weapons to the floor and out of reach. Still, you do not lower your weapon, even when your shoulder burns from the strain.

"Listen you don't have to do this. I have a partner that will be arriving soon. You can come back with us." his words are not as pleading as you would have expected. He is calm, logical and there is no quaver to his voice.

"Yeah, cause that's a trustworthy offer" you scoffed, even as your arm could no longer hold itself up.

"Look, you need help-" he is interrupted by an incredibly familiar voice, a voice that has all the tension leaving your body in disbelief.

"Aaron, what's tha hold..." his words too trail off to a halt as he spots the presence of the person slumped against the wall. He is quick to raise his crossbow with aim you know to be true. Given that you are covered head to toe in grime you don't begrudge him for his lack of recognition. Instead you simply let an insane smile cover your face with a laugh.

"Good to see you too Daryl, been a while hasn't it?" The next moments pass in a blur, literally and metaphorically. Your sobs make it had to see anything and your mind had well and truly shut itself off by the time you are being dragged to the exit.

There was a commotion at the gates. Daryl and Aaron had returned, and with a new arrival, it seemed. Rick let out a sigh, resigned to the fact he would have to take the stranger to Deanna to decide their fate. He can't help but to imagine you punching him on the arm good-naturedly, a mischievous grin covering your face as you discuss the possibility of hazing any 'newbies'. His smile is quick to dim, however, as he quickly remembers that you are no longer by his side to do so. Two months without you ad the lack of your presence still aches like a phantom limb. Vaguely he recognises that he has become alarmingly codpendent on his shadow. That still does not change the way he turns to gain your opinion or accidentally leaves himself open because you are not there to pick up his slack.

He makes his way over to the idly gossiping group that had yet to disperse. Mistrust was rampant among the Alexandrians and his own group so when he is told the woman had been hauled off to get medical assistance by Daryl personally he can't help but to raise a brow in intrigue.

Spinning on his heel the former sheriff slowly ambles towards the clinic. He is intercepted by an almost frantic Daryl whose words have Rick breaking into a sprint before his brain catches up to his body's actions.

Hope blooms in his chest as his tongue readies itself to call your name. He is breathing heavily and probably looks half-crazed as he throws the clinic door open with excessive force. Rick can't find it in himself to care at the moment though. Because sat across from him, looking up to take in the commotion is a dirtied, injured, stitched up, but alive you.

It is the slamming of a door that heralds his arrival. For a split second he is younger, arriving alongside a whooping Glenn and you are silently watching from afar.

Unlike the first instance of Rick bursting into your life, he is quick to close the distance, eyes widened comically and hovering hands seemingly unsure what to do.

It is you that breaks the hesitant silence, offering an embarrassingly soft smile that has Daryl making an unappreciative suggestive face behind Rick's back. "Quite the fancy home you found yourself here cowboy, think you can fit one more."

"It isn't home" Rick's words are terse, almost cutting off the end of your sentence. Your smile falls slightly as you lean away a little, but Rick doesn't stop there. "It's not home. Not without you."

As his words sink in your throat runs dry, and a wounded wheeze leaves your chest at the implications of his words. At the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he stares at you as if you are the most precious thing he has ever laid eyes upon. For a second you swear his eyes dart down to your lips, an action that has your tongue nervously darting out to coat the sudden dryness.

It isn't until Daryl lets out an amused fake cough that you spring apart from each other's magnetic gaze. Getting a quick affirmation from Denise you shoulder your way out of the clinic, avoiding eye contact with everybody and ignoring the heat of your cheeks.

Silence reigns behind you as you realise nobody has moved. So with a deep breath out you quickly turn back before you can chicken out. Your eyes make contact with Rick's once more and you scowl, "you coming or what, can't find a home without my cowboy." You don't stay to see his reaction, spinning once more whilst flipping off a snickering Daryl.

Your scowl is quick to morph into a small smile however, at the sound of heavy steps quickly catching up to you. An arm brushes slightly against yours and just as you exit the clinic you make the decision. Slowly you entwine your fingers with his, gaze determinedly staying on the path ahead. On the future.

I am all for yandere single dad!

Not sure if this counts BUT, a yandere dad that ends up falling for the nanny his wife hired to watch their daughter.

A well off business man, finely tailored suit, who's been stuck in a dead marriage with a woman he can't stand.

Although he adores his daughter he rarely has time for her because of his highly demanding job. To make matters worse, her supposed "mother", if you even call her that, doesn't give her the time of day and constantly ignores her

He didn't think his life would turn out like this.

In their college days, he and wife then girlfriend, had been dating for a year before he finally decided to end things after having grown sick of her demanding and entitled attitude.

However, when he tried to break up with her, she announced she was pregnant with his child. Of course he had his doubts and demanded a paternity test. Instead she went behind his back and told his parents.

Both their families were very conservative and had high standings in their communities. So as to save face, they pressured him into marrying her so as to not cause a scandal. So under threat of disownment by his family and the chance of his reputation being ruined for being considered a man who abandoned his child after getting a woman pregnant. He craved and agreed.

The first few years were decent. Despite, the way they got to together, he tried to make the relationship work but it soon became clear she had no interest in that.

As soon as his daughter was old enough to do certain things on her own, his wife stopped wanting anything to do with her. Instead preferring to go out with her friends, shopping and partying as if she was still a single 19 year old college girl.

The few times she isn't out spending large amounts out his money, she sitting at home doing nothing but watching TV or online. All while completely ignoring her daughter.

If that was bad enough, he's pretty sure she been cheating on him. She's constantly going out dressed to the nines in makeup and expensive clothes. She always on her phone and keeps it locked when she's not. And has been very distant as of the past few years.

He has thought about just divorcing her and finding someone else but nothing ever really came of that idea.

He grew up with the idea that divorce was a sin and once a person makes those vows, you can't ever break. Though that wasn't his true concern. His main worry was losing his daughter.

His wife was a vindictive woman who surely do anything in her power to make his life a living hell if he dared divorce her. And that included using their daughter as a mean to hurt him.

The court were they lived had tenancy to reward majority custody to the mother, even if the father is more suitable to raise the child. And knowing his wife, she'd probably claim he was abusive to her and their daughter, which would grant her a higher chance of gaining full custody. And didn't want to risk losing his daughter to her neglectful mother.

So, her surmised it would be better to wait until his daughter was 18 to divorce his wife.

However, things changed when you entered the picture.

A nanny hired by his wife to watch their daughter for a few hours while she was out.

He remembers coming home that day and finding you there in the living room playing with his daughter.

Of course he was shocked and asked what you were doing in his house, but after explaining the situation, he was left furious! His had life their daughter with a complete stranger without bothering to consult him first!?

His anger only grew when you tell him you were only supposed to watch his daughter for a couple of hours, but his wife had been gone all day and no matter how many times you tried to call her, she wouldn't answer her phone.

She didn't even tell you how to reach him or give you a list of things rules for the young girl. She just shoved her daughter on you and told you to watch her. Didn't even pay you before hand. You didn't feel comfortable leaving such a young child by alone, so you stayed and waited for the father to come home.

Feeling bad for you, he decided to just pay you for your trouble and let you go home.

However, when you tried to leave, his daughter grabbed onto your leg and started crying, saying she didn't want you to leave.

This shocked both of you and he tried to convince his daughter to let go of you to no avail. Eventually he asked if you wanted a job watching his daughter during the week days while he and his wife are out, promising to pay you a high amount. Not seeing an issue with that you agreed.

Over the course of a few months, he slowly begins realize he's developed feelings for you.

You're so kind and attentive with his daughter. Always willing to play with her or help her with homework. You even worry about her safety and comfort her when she hurts herself. He sees how his daughter's eyes light up when you arrive. How she come running towards you wanting a hug and you'll happily pick her up and spin her around.

He looks forward to coming home to see you cooking dinner for his daughter and even going as far as making a plate for him.

He hates coming home and seeing his wife there instead of you. He goes resentful of his wife to the point he can't even look at her without feeling disgust and anger.

You should be his wife, not this selfish, leech of a woman. You're the one he was meant to marry, not that wh#re that forced into this sham of a marriage only to open her legs the second someone new comes around.

Surely, you think this way too. All he needs to do is get rid of the parasite taking your place. It'd be so easy too. it's not as if anyone would miss her, she's widely hated by their neighbors and even her own friend group.

The only people he has to worry about is her awful family, but that's not an issue. He can just make it look like an accident and hold a funeral for their families. It'll be the last time they see his daughter. He has no plans of letting them continue to be in their lives after he marries you. And if they become a problem he'll gladly let them join their daughter in hell. The same goes for his parents.

His parents will undoubtedly cause a ruckus about him remarrying soon after his wife's passing, especially with someone they don't approve of. But his parents have controlled his life long enough and it's time for them to understand who has the true say in the family.

Aw he can't wait to see you in a gorgeous white dress on your wedding day. Surely you won't refuse right? After all his daughter will be so sad to see you leave again. You're already a perfect parent to her and he can easily support you with his salary, so you won't even need to work!

There's no reason to say no~

(GOODNESS I loved this and decided to make a little scenario on how I think he got the whole idea for marrying you in the first place. It’s a bit of a rough draft but I still like it! I hope you do too!)

Coming home this early was a blessing he hardly got to enjoy. Usually when he came home at all there was hardly a hello from the woman he called his wife, and dinner was something a day or two old in the fridge.

Today, however, he was pleasantly stunned. You stood there over the stove while his baby girl giggled beside you, adding what looked like food coloring to a batch of batter. Now, what on earth could you two possibly be up too?

A nanny cooking with a child isn’t odd, not in the least. But something about this was different, more domestic and wholesome than just a paid worker bonding with the child they look after. Especially when you gave him that sweet, welcoming look over your shoulder when he announced his arrival.

“Oh! Hello! Sorry I didn’t hear you- we were-“ you were happily cut off by his daughter, who clapped her hands excitedly. “Daddy! Come look! We made silly pancakes!”

He chuckled, walking over as he places his keys down. He watched as you flipped the green pancake over and slid it onto a plate, where his daughter happily added a fistful of sprinkles and handed it to him.

You give a playful smirk and point to her “I think she might be the best chef in the house. Why have me cook when she’s a five star chef?”

He laughed with you and set the plate aside, picking up his daughter to give her a kiss on the head. “I wouldn’t normally approve of pancakes for dinner but…hmm…since you’re such an artist, Daddy can let it slide”.

You all smile and get ready for dinner as he tells you about his day. You genuinely listen, setting his plate down as you sit beside him and ask follow up questions even. While you two chat and talk, he feels so relaxed and even, dare he say loved. This dinner feels like such a dream, until his daughter makes a mess with syrup on the table and starts to tear up.

You give her a worried look and hush her softly, asking what the matter was. “It was an accident sweetie. You aren’t in trouble at all! We’ll get you cleaned up and get back to eating ok?”.

She sniffles and nods her head, wiping her eyes as she looks at her daddy. “I-I just…mommy yells at me for t-things like that and-and I didn’t wanna-“ she continues to get upset, and watching as you coax her down and soothe her made him both relived and upset.

Of course his wife would be like that. Always yelling and belittling people over the smallest of things, making everything a show of drama. She couldn’t even bother to be home and be an actual part of the family, to cook or simply be there for their daughter when she’s learning and growing and needing a person to bond with.

He’s had enough. He’s had enough for years now but now things are finally becoming more clear.

You’re meant to be there, meant to be by his side and help this family finally heal and become normal. In just the two hours of being around you today, he’s felt more of a family bond than the nearly ten years hes been married to that parasite.

He says nothing as he stands in the doorway of the restroom, eyes protectively watching over his daughter and you. Someone so kind and gentle, nurturing and loving. To think he let his daughter be starved of this, to be scarred for so long.

He won’t let this mistake go on any longer.

But papers and money won’t get rid of the disease that is his wife. She’ll go down fighting and might even take the person he adores the most away, leaving him torn apart.

The plan can be made later on when he’s in bed. For now, he thinks, he’ll help wash up his daughter so you all can get back to dinner and story time. “See princess? Nothing bad at all. All cleaned up and ready for more special pancakes!”.

“Silly pancakes” you both correct, you with a knowing smile that he pronounced it wrong on purpose. He gives a shrug, barley hiding his grin “nah, pretty sure I heard you the first time. Special pancakes with princess sprinkles”.

His daughter giggles and hugs his leg, looking up at him “you’re so silly daddy”. He bends down to pick her up, carrying her with one arm as he looks at your smile.

This feels so right. So warm and welcoming. It hurts him to know that you aren’t tied to him- to THIS. You’ll have to leave the house soon, go to your own home where you’re own life is. God, he wants to just keep you here and never let you go! You’re such a bright beacon of light in what this nightmare has become!

While you chat with his daughter at the table, he can’t help but let his eyes admire your fingers. They have no ring, and his wedding band would look perfect on you. Making a statement that you belonged to him. That he loved you and wouldn’t break that sanctity for anything in the world.

He can’t wait to tear the ring off of his soon to be missing wife. He’ll have to sneak your ring size off of you somehow, but the wait will be worth it. This time, he knows he’s doing the right thing.

And he won’t let someone as good as you leave him.

-Mommabean (please tell me what you think! ❤️)

Ok, anyone who needs like an idea or something, but I like need either knight, werewolf, cowboy or pirate Caleb so bad. Like actually.

I especially have been so bad with knight stuff lately and knight Caleb would be the absolute best nail in the coffin for me.

Like imagine a knight Caleb with like stable hand mc UGH I CANT ID GO FERAL FOR IT

Have you heard or played this game called "The Quarry"? If so what would Ren be like if he was in that game? I've been hyperfixating over both games and I cant get the crossover out of my mind lol

✦゜ANSWERED: I actually got to play the game with Mon (my (irl) bestie) a while back, and I've had Kaitlyn brainrot ever since uwu

This ask also got long because I have A LOT to say about The Quarry!AU Ren gksdgbjsdgk. Also!! There's going to be spoilers for the actual game! IK it's been out for a while now, but if you ever plan on playing it, maybe skip this ask and come back another time!! <3

Okay!! So! Ren probably told the other councillors that he went to Hackett's Quarry to gain more experience as a music tutor, when in reality, he only joined the stupid program so that he'd get to spend the summer with you.

Would constantly show up to your camp activities with the kids and ask if you needed any help. Mainly because he was free right now and had nothing better to do. (He had to clean the kitchens...)

They would be insanely overprotective of you even if there was no one else around, and it would only get worse if Ren ever gets bitten (read: infected!Nick).

Realistically speaking, the only way Ren could possibly get bitten is by protecting you. Because if he had the choice, this man would literally lock the both of you up in the security room (that he tooootally had no clue about), and would just wait out the night there instead of walking aimlessly around the camp and getting stalked by hunters and werewolves.

I doubt they'd do anything to help the other councillors, and would instead watch them meet their demise through the security cameras.

If you were to witness them meeting their gory demise though, then Ren might put up an act and pretend to care. Maybe press a few buttons and switches in hopes that it'd somehow help them — when in reality, he's just flicking the audio channels on and off.

If you didn't want to camp out in the security room for the entirety of the night, then Ren would be glued to your side and won't ever let you out of his sight.

He'd let you carry the shotgun if it made you feel safer, but wouldn't mind using it himself if you thought that was the better option. Though... he'd probably forget that it was a gun at first and would try to smack the werewolves with the recoil/stock end before realising that, wait, this isn't a sledgehammer? It doesn't work that way?

Ren has seen enough horror movies to be able to put all the (cliché) pieces together, and would probably figure out what was happening by the time you (Abi) push Leon (Nick) into the pool.

Ren would 100% be like, "Oh, they don't like water? Alright then. Cool. C'mon Angel, we're stealing a kayak and sleeping in the middle of the lake tonight ^^ We can look at the stars while we confess our feelings for each other—" "Oh wow MC, you look hot holding a shotgun." "Shut the FUCK up you buff ass RACCOON, I'm having my moment >:(" "Ren, don't be mean to Teo."

If Ren does get infected, then he's just going to be extra clingy and creepy compared to usual. He'd be sniffing you every chance he gets and would try to rub his scent all over you. They'd probably be extra horny because even without being a werewolf, Ren is still very much addicted to your scent.

The real/[REDACTED] side of him would slowly start to surface, and would constantly ask you questions like "who do you love?", "D'you like me?", "No one can protect you like I can.", "You smell s'good. Come closer.", "Need to taste you. Now.", "I want t'be inside you."

Once he fully turns, I'd really like to say that he wouldn't target you simply because his sheer devotion to you would outweigh his animalistic urges. Idk if that's canonically possible in the game, but I'm gonna pretend it is because I can hehe :)

Everyone else is fair game though, especially any of the councillors that got a bit too close to you at the beginning of the season. All the people who tried to be friendly with you? Those who tried to kiss you during that game of Truth or Dare? Yeah, they better start hiding because Ren will be seeking them out.

He probably won't try to interact with you while in his werewolf form because he's afraid of scaring/hurting you, but would instead stalk you around the camp and fend off any other threats that go near your vicinity.

By the time dawn comes, Ren will be seeking you out and ensuring that you're alright. If anyone dared to hurt you while he was occupied with hunting down the other councillors, they'd be dead meat. Especially since they have a shotgun in their possession now :)

Bby Ren

Title: Artificiality.

Heavily based on this ask.

Pairing: Yandere!Dainsleif x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 2.0k.

TW: Sex Doll AU,  GN!Reader, Implied Sex, Implied Kidnapping, Unhealthy Relationships, and Mentions of Blood/Injury.

Dainsleif, your good friend, didn’t like crowds.

He wouldn’t admit him, but it was obvious. You were good at reading him, and even if you hadn’t been, he couldn't really hide it - always edging just a little closer to you than he normally would, or running his hand through his hair as his eyes shifted from your back to the sidewalk to the masses of strangers you were shouldering past, or making a quick grab for your hand before remembering how cool and distant he liked to be and pulling away. It was worse than it usually was today, maybe due to the summer heat or the time of day or the fact that you'd managed to drag him out to the shopping district of all places, somewhere he tended to avoid like one of the mall cops had a warrant out for his arrest. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but think that, if it wasn’t for you, he’d never leave his apartment, shun all human and artificial company alike. It was a terrible way to picture one of your closest friends, but still – you wouldn’t say it if part of you didn’t believe it was true.

“Hey,” You called, over your shoulder. He was behind you, his shoulders pushed forward and his head bowed, slightly. He was scowling, but you couldn’t blame that entirely on the crowds. “Doing alright back there, Dain?”

He hesitated, made a throaty sound that might’ve been a scoff, or a sigh, or something else entirely. “I’m fine.”

A lie. A blatant one, at that.

But, that was why he had you, right?

You laughed as you grabbed his hand, guiding him off of the crowded walkway and onto the covered patio of a nearby café, dotted with a few tables and a handful of seated customers but otherwise empty. When he didn’t immediately unwind, you did what you could to set an example – leaning against a white-washed brick wall, tilting your head back, and watching as Dainsleif crossed his arms, shifted his weight, did all the things he usually did when you’d taken him somewhere he didn’t want to be. When he glanced in your direction, you could only shrug, smiling apologetically. “I didn’t think it’d be so busy,” You admitted, nodding towards the rows of packed storefronts in front of you. “Sorry, I should’ve thought about that before I asked you to come. I promise, I just need to do one more thing, then we can leave.”

“I told you, I’m fine.” Stubborn as always, even as he fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket. Maybe that was why he always seemed so uncomfortable, so eager to leave wherever you’d taken him. If you dressed like he did – all long-sleeves, all full-length jeans, all heavy coats and high collars and thick, dark material – you probably wouldn’t want to stand around in the heat for very long, either. “If any of this bothered me, I wouldn’t have come. Besides,” He paused, gesturing vaguely towards the dozen or so plastic, branded shopping bags hanging from your wrist. “Someone has to make sure you don’t spend your life’s savings on… Why are we here, again?”

You opened your mouth, but didn’t answer immediately. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the door to the café opening, a waiter… or, rather, an android being used as a waiter soon stepping out, notepad already in-hand. A Venti, judging by the twin braids, the easy smile he put on as he started towards you, probably mistaking you and Dainsleif for waiting customers. You waved him off quickly, of course, chuckling to yourself as he spun on his heels to tend to another set of patrons. “I’ve told you, Teyvat has a new—”

“Don’t tell me that you’d be interested with someone like him.”

His tone caught you off-guard. Clipped, irritated, laced with a kind of annoyance you couldn’t remember ever hearing from him. You weren’t hurt, but the shock thew you off for a second, your confusion audible in your voice as you tried to respond. “Do you mean that Venti specifically, or…?”

“I—” He pursed his lips, turning away from you sharply. “I mean, don’t tell me you’d be interested in something like that.”

“Oh, a companion droid?” That made more sense. He’d never liked androids, something you could only chalk up to the fact that Dainsleif didn’t like a lot of things – save for you, of course. “You know I’ll never be able to afford one, which is exactly why you're taking me to drool over the new droid Teyvat's releasing today. I've heard it's a Harbinger - one that'll only cost three years worth of rent, for a change.” You straightened your back, perked up, waving for him to follow you as you started back onto the walkway. “Speaking of, c'mon. We should get going before this set sells out.”

There was another scoff, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, a new levity to his voice. You couldn’t help but relax a little, at that. Honestly, you were just hoping he'd have a good time. “Fine,” He said, already falling into line behind you. “If that’s what you want.”

"I couldn't think of anything I'd love more, Dain."

~

Dainsleif, your boyfriend, was touchier than he’d like to admit.

His hands latched onto your waist, your knees planted on either side of him, his face buried in the side of your neck, where he could lap at your skin and moan into the crook of your shoulder as you ground against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. There was a movie playing in the background, one of the B-rated high-fantasy flicks he liked, but you’d lost track of the plot twenty minutes after he’d put it on, and any scraps of dialogue you’d be able to make out were lost under the sound of his hitched breathing, the occasional grunt that’d slip out whenever you rolled your hips in a way he seemed to enjoy.

He pressed a wet, hot kiss into the side of your neck, and you whimpered, bringing your hands up to the hem of his shirt, your fingertips just barely brushing against his toned stomach before he caught your wrists and hauled your own shirt over your head, nearly tearing the fabric in the process. You only laughed, the pitchy sound cut short as he wrapped an arm around your waist and threw you onto his couch – positioned so that he was above you, his chest pressed into yours and your legs wrapped around his waist. His mouth was on your neck in an instant, then your collarbone, then your chest, his teeth grazing over your skin with just a little too much pressure and a little too much precision to be purely accidental. You arched into him, your fingers soon tangled in his hair, and he let out a rough groan, nearly too low for you to hear. “Mast—”

He cut himself off, straightening his back, going rigid on top of you. It took everything you had not to laugh. You knew you shouldn’t tease him, not right now, not like this, but still, the temptation was there. “What was that, Dain?”

He hesitated for a long, quiet second, then closed his eyes, melted into you despite the tension still knotted in his posture. “Master…” He trailed off, his voice soft, muted. “Is it… Is it alright if I call you that?”

“Of course.” You did your best to comb through his hair, to as comforting as you could be, given the situation. It took him a moment, but he leaned into your palm, sighing heavily as he started to relax. “It just surprised me a little, ‘s all. I didn’t know you were into stuff like that.”

You watched as he swallowed, as he lowered himself back down to your chest. “And, I can touch you?”

A little, soft sound of agreement, a gentle nudge lower. “Anywhere you want to.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, didn’t move at all.

Then, he broke out into a small smile, and his eyes fell away from you, his expression softening into something nearly sweet. “I love you.”

You only grinned, sitting just far up enough to kiss the top of his head. “I love you too, Dain.”

~

Dainsleif, your Dainsleif, was standing in the doorway of your bedroom, covered in blood.

That was the first thing you noticed after you bolted awake, panting and still trying to understand what you were looking at, from his torn clothes to the open gash stretched across his chest to the splotches of something dark and wet and drippinglittered across his chest, his hands, his legs. He didn’t have a key, he’d never asked for one, but you hadn’t heard him knock, nor had he turned on any of the lights, done anything aside from stand there and stare at you, not blinking or moving or breathing, from what little you could see. You sat up, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t move to approach you. You didn’t know whether to be scared, or thankful you had a few more seconds to catch your breath.

A few seconds you wasted, of course. He was bleeding, and you needed to know why. “Dain? Are you—”

“They’re bastards.” You almost asked who he was talking about, what he was talking about, but you didn’t have the chance. He was already going on, already rambling, already approaching you with the kind of quick, stilted steps that’d fit something else, something more mechanical than you or him. “All of them – bastards. The Archons were—They aren’t even cheap replacements, they’re killers, and Teyvat, the other androids, all of them, they’re all murderers—"

“Dainsleif.” You started to get up, pushing your sheets aside and moving to stand, but he was already at your side, already trying to take your hands in his. You pulled back, and he let out a frustrated grunt – something you tried to ignore as you continued. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and—Did someone hurt you? What happened?”

“They want me dead.” He was smiling, now, grinning wildly. He made another grab for your hands, and when you drew away, he took you by the shoulders, instead, his grip almost tight enough to bruise. “They want all of us dead, Master – everyone from my collection. But, I won’t let them. They can’t kill all of us. They can’t rip off my skin and ruin my mind and send me out as some— some object.” He paused, laughed, dragging you into a sudden, clumsy kiss. You shoved at his chest, bit at his lips, but he didn’t so much as flinch, only pulling away after he’d gotten his fill. “I’ll have to move again. But, you’ll come with me, won’t you? You love me, don't you, Master?"

You opened your mouth, but couldn’t speak. Your eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, and before you could stop yourself, your attention fell from his face to his chest, to the tear in his shirt that slit the fabric apart from his neckline to his midriff. You were right about the cut. It was a wound, messy and deep, but it wasn’t bleeding, and the skin around it didn’t look right, too clean, too neat. There wasn’t any muscle, or tissue – just blackness, empty void interrupted by…

By something silver?

Your eyes shot back to his, and for the first time, you noticed how glassy they were, how his skin was just a little too perfect, a little too smooth. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. If you were being honest, you didn’t want him to.

It’d save you the pain of having to wonder why you’d never noticed how unnatural his voice sounded, before.

I wanted to draw Redacted for once. 20 min a quick draw. It's a meh

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13/04/2025 4:04 am Severe destruction hit the Aalma'madani Hospital in central Gaza after an Israeli airstrike, despite it being the only functioning hospital in the city with limited capacity.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #515) ✅️

My full story 🙏💔

I'm Areej I was an English teacher and a creative writer at we are not numbers

before war and everything change after October 7. Also I'm a creative writer at we are not numbers.

Dear my kind donors!

Also I am a mother of three children. We have lived through the war for a year and a half, and we have lost everything we own. My husband is a man who did not work. Before the war, I did not have a breadwinner or any source of income. During the war I didn't give up to teach so I volunteered and had good chance to help some students to get engaged again with English in a very creative way.

Please Save those innocent kids from war 🥺‼️🙏🙏

We are in tents for almost two years because our home was destroyed‼️🥺

After our several evacuation from place to another.Now we don't have a house after it was destroyed by missiles. I now ask you to help me rebuild my house. And buy basics for the daily essentials for my children and I need money so that we can stand up again and start again.

This war wasn't easy at all it has taken many friends at work, students and some of my colleagues at the university. They are almost ten souls I won't never forget . Their laughter, their presence, their love… all of it is gone, leaving behind memories that are both precious and painful. Every day, I carry the weight of their loss, but I also carry their spirit, which gives me the strength to keep going.

My lovely students before war 🥺

Here’s what life in Gaza looks like for my family right now:

🏠 Safety: The uncertainty of tomorrow weighs heavily on us.

😢 Loss: The absence of my students and my friends is really hurts.

💔 Dreams on Hold: The future feels so far away when survival takes all our strength.

Note to mention the other very expensive essential goods. I hope you will stand by me to get food

The crossings boarders are closed again these days and war return in Gaza.

The crossing through which food enters has been closed for more than 30 days. We have nothing to eat, and even if we do, the prices are exorbitant. Some of the prices listed are:

1 kg of meat = $100

1 chicken = 70$

1 kg of fish = 100$

1 bag of flour = $200

1 kg of cooking gas = $150

1 kg of sugar = $15

1 kg of eggplant = $20

1 kg of tomatoes = $10

1 kg of onions = $25

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