(wip?) ~

I need your kindess to support me in Gaza ❤️🙏‼️

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #538)

Hi everyone,

I’m Inge Kassab 22, dental student in Alazhar university Gaza, I have finished three years of my studies at the university and unfortunately my university has completely destroyed due to the war in Gaza and I can’t go abroad the city to continue my studies because all boarders around us were closed and I forced to live her under bombing.

For almost a whole year and half I have been living in Gaza, where wardestruction and chaos spread everywhere in Gaza.

My home and my university were completely destroyed .

I am currently in Deir El Balah after I have displaced from my city Gaza , trying to save money to rebuild home to live in a safe place with my family. My father is an old man who lost his work and my mom also lost her work. I need you to support me and my family to build our life again.

Because of the war, it has become impossible to provide money to live, buy food, clean and drinkable water, and education here. This money will be used to provide what the war has destroyed for us, and also to provide a place to stay, especially since we are now approaching the winter season, where we need winter clothes, repair the damage to the house, and provide what protects us from the cold and hunger of winter.

Gaza has become a place full of destruction and is no longer suitable for any opportunity here. Diseases have spread in the Gaza Strip, especially those skin diseases for which there is no treatment due to the war. The water here has also become polluted water and has spread, and there is not enough food for everyone here.

I created this campaign to ask for help and support from you. As a human being who lived an entire year and half under the flames of war, destruction, and tragedies, I am addressing you and asking you for help, to help me get a chance to survive war, death, and hunger with my family, and to start from scratch. A new journey of living and recovering from those traumas and painful memories that we experienced in the war. So we stayed in the Gaza Strip under the genocide to live in difficult conditions and complete our studies with the least available means. Before the war began, I was at the beginning of the clinical stage and the beginning of my work on patients, but the war came and destroyed all my dreams, as I lost my university and my dental tools, which cost my father more than $1,000, and I lost my future. But now I am trying to return again in order to complete the number of study hours and graduate. Therefore, I need your help to complete what remains, as there is only very little left to graduate and go out to work and help patients.

This money will also help me to cover our living expenses and buy food in Gaza. Buying food and groceries in Gaza is something we cannot afford every day because of the high prices, and there is no opportunity to work here. The money will also be used to buy available cooking gas, wood and firewood which will also be used to provide fires for cooking and also to keep warm from the cold at night in the coming days.  Also I want to build my own clinic after graduation.

I hope you will hear my voice and help me get a chance to evacuate from here, and a chance to evacuate from Gaza if we can . 🥺❤️

I am a person whose dreams, life, and ambitions were stolen during the war. All I have left is the hope of escaping from here. Help me revive this hope ❤️🙏🙏

Chuffed

Save a Palestinian dental student and her family in Gaza

Hi, I'm Tristan from the Netherlands, running this campaign on behalf of Inge, who tells her story below:

Or here directly

So Please Help Me to Put (Dr.) before my name please make this post viral 🥺❤️‼️

Inge Kassab.

Yandere Wasp Izuku

((Contains: Somnophilia, or something akin to it, while no sex ensues, the reader is marked while in the middle of sleeping. Anyway enjoy!))

“Izuku! Seriously, it isn't a big deal!” you try and calm the wasp breed down, hands up in defense for the person behind you who was almost sobbing in fear. The green haired hybrid was almost snarling, his wings batting angrily in a show of intimidation as he tried to lunge at the poor soul. 

“IZUKU! CALM DOWN!” you shout, shoving him back to give the person time to run, listening to the scurrying footsteps being drowned out by the fervent beating of his wings. Once you believed the coast was clear, you stepped back, hand placed on the still heated hybrid's chest. 

“What has gotten into you?! I would expect this kind of behavior from the others, but you?”

Izuku chuffs, turning his head away in shame at your scolding. His wings fold back down, and his eyes return to their softer, more welcoming presence. “I’m…I’m sorry. I honestly don’t know what came over me. When I saw them touch your hand- and how they got their scent on you, I just…My feet moved before I could think”. 

His voice was sincere, his eyes having a look similar to a scolded puppy as he gently took your hand from his chest, letting it drop reluctantly. 

You take a breath, eyes focused on the ground for a moment as you gather your thoughts. “Ok. Ok I can see you thinking of me as a hive like sibling possibly, maybe that’s what caused you to lash out. But it’s no excuse for threatening them!”

Izuku wanted to correct you, that no- you weren’t seen as a hive relative. You were seen as a MATE. One only he was allowed to be around. But, seeing as you were still distraught over the incident, he decided to work on how he would drop that information on you. Perhaps back home, maybe in your room?

No, no your room is nice, but izuku’s is better. You’ll be more protected there, covered in his scent so other insect breeds don’t get any funny ideas and have to face the evil side of his species. 

He shakes his head, eyes widening slightly as he soaks in what just crossed his mind. What was he thinking?! Keeping you nested in his room- that’s never come to light before. Sure, he’s always been protective of you, but this was becoming more worrisome by the second. 

You give a sigh, and decide to finish this little walk so you don’t possibly give a heart attack to an innocent citizen. “It’s something we can look into later. I know your species is still new to this side of earth and all, so maybe we should brush up on some customs and such to avoid any more death threats”. 

-----------

Izuku sat down as he read through some files, humming in thought every now and again as the screen scrolled on his phone. “No…That’s outdated…that one's true but…no, no. none of these are helping!” he groaned in frustration, wanting to toss the device as he slammed his head back in annoyance. 

He clicked out of the page and tried looking through the other categories and sub folders, eyebrows pinching in confusion as he searched. Finally, after about an hour, he decided to check the mating behaviors folder, taking in a short breath. 

“Possessive, mates for life, territorial and…” he continues reading on, seeing that his age range is about the time where he starts to need a mate to bond with if he hasn’t already chosen one. Tilting his head in thought, he supposed it made sense that he was so protective of you these past few months. Maybe he just subconsciously chose you, delegating you as his forever mate without a second thought. 

He continues reading, not wanting to get too lost in thought about you- despite loving every image of you he had popping into his head. He came across a few paragraphs explaining how mates are bonded, and frowns as he scrolls through. 

“Mates have to be bonded through a claiming bite while-” he blushes, swallowing slowly as he reads the process it takes to make someone yours completely in his species lifestyle. Could he really do that to you? Sink his teeth into you and breed you so full you’ll never leave his home again? Make you his and his alone?

“Hey! You find anything?” you ask while flopping next to him, turning your phone off as you turn to face him. “I could only find some sibling bonds and what not.Maybe you’re just having a bad day? Or, maybe that scorpion Bakugo finally rubbed off on you” you joke. 

Izuku nods, hiding his phone in his lap nervously as his wings slowly unfurl from his back. You smell so sweet. It makes his muscles relax, and for a moment he gets so lost in the warmth he forgets to answer you. “Oh! I uh, I'm still scrolling! You know me, I have to get every detail” he lied. 

He can’t tell you what he found. There’s no way you’d let him, love and bonding for your kind is so much more different, so much less brutal and intense. No, he plans to mark you, make you give in and take him as yours forever, but he has to hide that beast within. 

For now, anyway. 

“Hey, how about we take a break and I cook you something? Consider it an apology dinner for earlier” he half jokes, beginning to stand. His eyes turn angry when you begin to deny him, about to insist that you aren’t hungry. Before you can turn him down, he cages you in, his face mere centimeters from yours. 

“I won’t let you go hungry…Heh, what kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t provide for you and feed you? “ he bit out, barely hiding it behind a smile. You just nod slowly, not sure what to say about the odd display, clutching your phone tightly until he backs away. 

“Good! Just stay right there, ok? If you need something let me get it for you! Got it?”. 

You just nod again, watching as he walked towards the kitchen to begin cooking. Izuku just growls lowly at himself for letting his instincts take over so quickly, making a fool of himself. It seems hiding this beastly side of him will be a tougher fight than he thought. 

----------------

It’s hot. Too unbearably hot. He still feels as if he’s asleep as he gets up to walk, maybe cool off outside for a bit before heading back to bed. 

His eyes are closed as he rolls over, but they snap open when he feels a body next to him. He peers over to see who on earth could be sharing a bed with him, and he becomes overly ecstatic to see that it’s you. 

Wait. This doesn’t seem right, these sheets don’t feel like his own and the painting if the room doesn’t match the interior of his. Izuku slowly starts piecing together what had occurred, and undoubtedly he sleptwalked into your abode. 

It seems his instincts have a stronger hold on him when he isn’t awake. He should feel upset, frightened that he has no control over himself, but he’s not. He’s simply content laying next to you, inhaling that intoxicating scent, his wings wanting to unfurl and shudder from the bliss it brings. 

That heat comes back, and he sees that the unbearable warmth was because his inner primal mind was begging to come out. To take what was rightfully his. 

He should leave, he shouldn’t be here while you’re at your most vulnerable, he needs to try and quietly leave and forget this ever occurred. But…what if he just had a little taste? Something to tide him over and to get his shit together. 

His species marks and claims when mating, they’re intense and some might even say brutal. So, if he just eased his way into this, stole a simple taste, perhaps he could train himself to be more in control, less instinct controlled. 

He creeps closer to your sleeping form, mouth watering as he sees the exposed skin of your shoulder, teasing and taunting him. His tongue comes to lap at your warm flesh, and once he gets a taste, his mind goes blank.

He doesn’t remember anything, he wakes up feeling a deep satisfaction as he curls tighter around whatever it is between his arms, possessively squeezing. A hiccup causes him to wake up fully, and his stomach sinks when he sees what had happened. 

You’re covered in marks, bites and red splotches where he incessantly sucked on your skin. “Oh no” he gasped, seeing the tears in your terrified eyes as you roll away and shove him to the floor. 

“You-Izuku…Are you back to me?”

“I'm me! I'm me, I'm so sorry oh God-What happened?” he asked hastily, praying he didn’t do the unthinkable and hurt you beyond repair. You sniffle and wipe your eyes as you sit up more, taking a moment to breathe. 

“You just…Kept biting and clawing at me, and you looked like you were angry when I tried to get away. I think you wanted me dead or maybe...Maybe you slept-walked and saw me as a predator to fight? I’m not too torn up it was just…You kept biting and hissing about odd things”

Izuku swallows down the actual reason his lips were on you, knowing it’ll only make you hate him even more. He can’t have that, he won’t lose you just because he can’t control himself. He’ll play along with this story, he’ll do whatever it is you think he needs to do. 

But he won’t let you leave him. 

“Fuck. I'm sorry, I wasn’t even awake! I need to get to the bottom of why I’m like this. The last Thing I want to do is hurt my ma-” he paused, swallowing nervously. “My most important friend”. 

You just nod, looking away as you cover up a bit more. “I’ll ask some of the other wasp species what they know…Maybe even a scorpion, seeing as they love to be in everyone's business” you half joked, wanting to lighten the mood. 

Izuku slowly stands back up, feeling guilty he scared you so bad. A good mate wouldn’t let you be scared of anything, most importantly themselves. He needs to fix this, find a way to get himself together and keep you beside him. 

“Let me make this up to you ok?” he starts, suddenly becoming jealous of imagining all the other species and possible mates alike that you’d have to talk to today. No. No he’ll take care of this. You should just stay here, rest, and cover yourself in more of his scent. 

“You should just rest up here, I’ll do the searching and deep diving ok? I think they’d be more accepting to talk to me anyway. You know, since they see humans as either mate material to constantly flirt with or a meal to devour”. 

You smile a bit, seeing how upset and worried your friend had become “Humans flirt back just as bad, and if I remember correctly, some of us humans eat bugs encased in candy…so I suppose we’re more alike than given credit for”. 

Fair point. But his decision still stands. “True, but this is the least I can do for you. Just let me do the research today, and you rest up, eat good, and maybe beat me with a stick when I get back” he joked, his chest warming when you smiled at him and laughed. 

“Alright, I guess. Just be careful and text me every bit of information you get ok? I want to help you out, you’re my best friend Izuku”. 

“Yeah, same here. I think I’d go crazy if anything happened to you” he said softly, beginning to itch from not being able to just wrap around you and smother himself in your scent. He needed to get up and go, before things get worse. 

Who knows what will happen if he gives in once again? 

(Hi! I hope you beans enjoy this! It was fun! -Mommabean) 

HSR fan art

♢ Favorite | Childe

Alternative Title: Yours

Includes: Yandere, Slightly suggestive, Cult, D//rugging, K//idnapping, S/A, N-C kissing SAGAU

Warnings: Slight perv Childe, Yandere, talks of bruises/scares, allusions to past mistreatment (verbal and physical), Childe climbs on top of you and kisses you while ur dr/ugged… so yeah idk what to tag that?

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: closeted pervs, pervs… pervs who’re obsessed with you? mhm… yes, i like that. yes. anyway, i’m working of D.V pt 2 and other stuff but yeah take this for now </3 hopefully this isn’t too messy </3

Intended for mature audiences (17+)

You wondered why you thought you had a chance in the first place – not once since you’d arrived had things gone your way, from the cruel words thrown at you in Mondstatd to the harsh blades that sliced you in Inazuma, ever since you’d arrived at Teyvat things had gone horribly wrong for you.

Now here you were, being chased by the 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia, for sins unknown to you.

You’d stumbled upon the rough edges of Dragonspine and naively ran straight into the harsh temperament of never-ending winter, hoping the ginger would simply let you be but alas, fate had different plans, and he followed you into the freezing temperatures, bow and arrow in hand.

It had been almost an hour of being lost in the hellish winter lands, but considering he’d been chasing you for days – his patience shouldn’t be surprising.

“Stop making this harder than it needs to be, pal,” Childe mocked, his voice was rough as if he was scolding a child, “you got caught, now give up… this is starting to get really annoying.”

“I normally enjoy this sort of stuff,” he sighs, his voice muffled by the softened snow and fair amount of distance you’d managed to gain, “chasing and hunting, but you… God, you… you really messed up. Showing up looking like that, acting as if you had no idea what you were doing was… disrespectful, matter of fact, that’s what you are; disrespectful and ungrateful, acting like a little kid, and that’s coming from me.”

You wanted to ask what he was talking about, scream and beg him for answers – he spoke as if he understood why you were being targeted, almost as if he wasn’t the one with a finger on a trigger waiting for your next wrong move.

Your body felt weak, you hadn’t eaten in so long — you’d been rejected food and water — your body was fatigued, you were hurting and the freezing temperatures nibbling at your exposed flesh didn’t help. For reasons unknown, as most things were around here to you, you didn’t have to sleep nor eat as often as others — being able to spend the equivalent of days without basic needs, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t growing starved and tired.

The Fatui doesn’t stop talking, he had nothing to worry about — his clothes were warm and his basic human rights had been served, not only was he ridiculously strong but he had every and all advantages over you, from a fed stomach to a good night’s rest and a weapon, you were mere child’s pray to an experienced hunter.

His words were insulting, criticizing your character – which he’d never taken the time to know, you note – to your appearance, the way you moved and acted, nothing was off the table as he tore you apart with words as he waited to rip you apart later.

Is this how you die? — you muse, you decide to tune out his sing-song voice, his words hurt and why focus on more pain when death was basically inviting you over for a cup of tea?

The thought brings tears to your eyes, tears that had been piling up since the day you’d arrive to this hell-hole, you had been home one day – playing games and enjoying life, your life, as pathetic and miserable as it may seem to some, and now you were here; being prosecuted and sentenced for a crime you didn’t even know about.

The people you’d helped, stupid, brainless string of code and characters in your stupid, time-consuming game that didn’t offer any real life consequences (that shouldn’t offer real life consequences) turned their backs on you and left you to die a slow and painful death. How pathetic.

This is how you die — you think, certain of your impending doom.

You were crying, all of your strength now concentrated in your shaking form, tears now streamed down your face – you didn’t notice too busy in your worn self pity to realize, but the harsh temperatures further dropped with the evidence of your sorrows running down your face, with every tear the mountains seemed to weep alongside you; snow now fell at a more frequent pace echoing the water dripping down your face.

“What did I do wrong…” You ask the skies, no longer caring to hide — it was inevitable that he’d find you. Your sobs grow louder the closer he gets and the quieter he becomes, soon – you couldn’t make out whatever cruel remarks he was spouting, probably busy focusing on the meek sounds escaping your weakened body trying to get this over with, he was enjoying your suffering, wasn’t he?

He stops walking (something you vaguely note, too tired to try and escape now), in mere seconds he’s standing behind the rock he’s certain you’re hiding against – all he needs to do is ambush you, strike your chest with an arrow and things would be over with, he’d be back on track to Liyue and off to his next destination. And yet, his hands trembled slightly as he gripped the wooden handle of his bow – he couldn’t bring himself to aim.

But isn’t this what he wanted? He’d asked The Tsaritsa for a longer stay in Liyue for this exact moment, he’d even followed you through Liyue and up until this damned mountain. He would have finally gotten rid of the fake God, the pest that had been making its way around Teyvat making a fool of themselves and everyone around them. He wouldn’t have been so bothered if it hadn’t been someone impersonating you, but that wasn’t the case — the idiot, the absolute bastard, had the balls to make a divine comedy of you and it made Childe sick.

And yet, as he stood above you, only a few steps away, a lift of a finger from ending your life, he couldn’t.

Something deep inside him made him stall, he didn’t understand why until you finally spoke to him for the first time in the almost three days he’d been hunting you like sport.

“At least tell me what I did to deserve this, Ajax.”

Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, Ajax ,Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, Ajax… you called him by his name.

Ajax.

No one knew his name – more like, no one should know his name, so why did you – some outlander, some weird, demented freak making a mockery of his God know his name?

He let the thoughts simmer in his head; an outlander that knew his name, that knew where they were without even looking at a map, one that navigated the hills and their surroundings like an expert, that had the soil and skies of Teyvat answer their cries, who managed to affect Dragonspine’s weather… you weren’t a freak, he realizes as horror sinks in, and he was the bastard.

He was the bastard that was about to kill God.

The realization comes to him and he almost drops to his knees, as if someone had punched the air out of his lungs, things suddenly made more sense – the reason he was so compelled to follow you, how you seemed to never run out of energy, how things always turned out in your favor even if they shouldn’t, you were God. His God. Of course he’d be moved the way he was, even if his mind didn’t know it, his spirit, his soul did, his body did.

He was about to kill God.

The only thing that had kept him going during his time inside the Abyss, the very thing that gave him hope for a better future, he had chased away and threatened.

You hear the odd sound he lets out – something between a scream and cry, a muddled laugh of pain and confusion – and you’re tempted to look around to see what had happened, you knew Childe was close, so why didn’t he just go and get it over with? Was he… was he mocking you? This had to be an attempt to make this more fun, have you crawl out of your hiding spot so he could pounce on you and kill you in the open so he’d have more space to be creative.

You still want to turn around, after all no matter what you did your fate was sealed — you obviously weren’t leaving the mountains alive, so would it really matter if he killed you against a stiff rock or soft snow? But he beats you to it and bright blue eyes meet yours much to your shock. You feel heart stop.

He doesn’t say anything, whatever episode that had previously consumed him gone, as his hand reaches out and you flinch, instinctively throwing your body back in fear, in hopes he’d leave you alone — his eyes widen and soon fill with sadness but he doesn’t take his hand back, rather, he reaches forward to pull you closer to him, his weapons are nowhere in his person as shaky hands explore you, almost as if looking for something.

He’s hugging you, and unbeknownst to you, while trying to get a feel for your body to see if the familiar warmth he’d feel whenever he acted as your vessel was there; it was, overflowing from your shaking body, further confirming that you were indeed who he thought, who he feared, you were.

“What are you…?” You want to question, your voice comes out barely a whisper above the sounds of wind pounding against the trees.

“Say it again,” he whispers, pulling you impossibly close to his body – effectively shutting you up, “say my name again, please.”

“…” You can’t move, afraid you’d upset him and cause him to shove a knife down your throat or whatever he planned to do.

“Please,” he squeezed you tighter, you choke at the sudden roughness, “I need to know if I heard you well.”

It was a lie, of course, he knew you’d said his name loud and clear, – Ajax, Ajax, Ajax… he could repeat the memory in his head forever and not get tired – with the most adorable pronunciation he’d heard, it was making him feel dirty for the thoughts that flooded his mind in regards to you. You had called him by his name in such a familiar way, a way he’d only heard in his dreams.

“Ajax?” You let out, your body was cold and you just wanted to get everything over with, “I… I called you Ajax.”

“So it is you,” he lets out, a dry laugh coming from his lips, gloved hands grip at your clothed body like a starved man, “hah… you should’ve said something sooner, it would’ve saved us so much time… your highness.”

Completely confused you try to push him off, what was he saying? Your highness? One second he was trying to kill you, then he was asking you to say his name, and now here he was – addressing you as some sort of divine figure? If this was part of his plan to torture you, it must be very effective because you’re soon growing exhausted at the way he’s acting, your time here had been pure and utter misery, and dealing with a two faced man who didnt know if he wanted you dead or close only aggravated you more.

No matter how much you tried to push him off and get him to answer your questions – mote like demands for answers, the Harbinger wouldn’t budge, instead opting to lift you off the ground and carry you. He lifted you without a warning, leaving you speechless for a good while as you try and reason what’s going on, still so caught off guard you don’t even realize you’ve asked him where you’re going until he’s giggling like a high schooler.

Your face might have been hidden under the fur jacket he was wearing, your vision being rendered useless, but you could still hear the smile, the fondness in his voice as he stated what to him must have been the most obvious matter in the world; “I’m taking you home.”

He says it like it’s some sort of joke you’re supposed to get, but you’re left to wonder what it meant as he provided no further context.

He doesn’t let you down, literally, for even a second – making the treacherous journey from your hiding spot to where he’d set up camp with little to no complaints, seemingly deep in thought at what had just transpired in the last hour, you don’t try to make conversations either as your own thoughts consume you.

“I just can’t believe it,” he mumbles, carrying you to what you presume to be his tent, “they had it all so, so wrong… hurting and attacking you, poor little thing. It’s okay, my love, I’ll make it up to you,” he doesn’t seem to expect any answers as he drones on, “so I’m going to heal you and keep you to myself while I figure out what to do with you. Doesn’t that sound nice? Your Ajax will make it all better.”

Oh how lucky he was, meeting and recognizing you before any other man or woman in Teyvat. So what if his original intentions hadn’t been as savory as he wished they had been, the past is the past and you’re safe with him now.

You’re carried inside the tent and immediately handed a bottle of warm liquid you don’t hesitate to down — you hadn’t had a drink or food in days, and even if Childe intended to dispose of you afterwards, who were you to deny yourself of being taken care of, even if it was for one last time.

There was no one around other than you two, you realize – no Treasure Hunters nor Fatui, nor guild members seemed to be nearby. But you didn’t mind, too preoccupied trying to figure out what the blue eyed man could want to do next — you’d accepted your fate but it didn’t mean it didn’t scare you.

It’s not even a few minutes later that you realize you can’t bring yourself to ask anything, your body slowly succumbing to a paralyzed state where you could only feel warmth – while there had been no previous attempts from either of you to talk, Tartaglia too busy buried in his own thoughts to speak to you now and you too scared of setting him off, you realize too late there’s a lot you want to say.

Realizing your now relaxed state (due to the concoction he had you drink earlier on - he knew you didn’t trust him enough to willingly realz around him), Ajax begins to look at your otherwise frozen body, you’re not able to resist as he slowly strips you off your clothes in favor of his spares; ones that left you exposed as he looked over and tended to your wounds, by the time he’s got to use the alcohol to disinfect the cuts on your body you’re inches away from being knocked out.

He was uncharacteristically quiet while assessing your figure, only letting out huffs and grunts when he caught sight of a particularly deep scar or bruised patch of skin he wished he didn’t have to see. He took the moment of silence to think, you must have suffered greatly in the last few months you’d been stranded here – alone, hated, feared, it must have been hellish. The severity of his actions slowly dawned on him, he’d been brash – he hadn’t taken the chance to properly asses you, out of everyone, he should have been the one to quickly notice who you were; he’d been surrounded by imagery and depictions of you for so long, he’d dedicated so much of himself to you and yet, when he stood in front of you for the first time, he acted harshly and like a savage.

His heart aches and he hoped you were as benevolent as he remembered you being, he would work himself to his bones if it meant earning your forgiveness and favor once more.

“I can’t believe they would’ve done this to you, my love,” he finally breaks the silence, caressing your exposed collarbone, a fire now burned in the tent granting his face a gentle orange glow as the sun began to set, “I’ll take you to Liyue where I can heal you better, maybe find a doctor who can do a better job than me, but we’ll be leaving for Snezhnaya soon after you’re better so you can meet… my boss, I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic to finally meet you.”

His voice holds no strong emotion, he can’t bring himself to forgive his actions — he’d been so childish, you probably hated him.

The thought struck his heart cold, you hated him. How was he supposed to live if you hated him?

“I am sorry,” he whispers, finally making eye contact with you, his fingers caressed your skin as if you were made of fine glass, afraid you’d break further if he applied too much pressure, “I acted out, I was stupid, and I hurt you.”

Your eyes were glazed, your head felt like it was floating – but you could still register his words, and maybe it was because he was the first person who’d treated you well, like you were a human, or maybe it was because you were too high off whatever substances was now flowing through your body but you spoke (even though it was too much effort for you to try and say anything too long).

“I… forgive you.” You let out a broken smile, muscles too tired to try anything that looked, well, good but your words were enough for him.

“You’re too kind to me,” he mumbles, slowly intertwining his fingers with your own – ecstasy slowly pumping through his veins as your words settle in, “I’m so lucky to have such a kind God,” he whispers into the crook of your neck, “so let me make it up to you, my providence.”

“Before that though, I…” He pauses, if he took you to Snezhnaya you’d be able to be protected by the Fatui and Her Excellency, you’d help bring their plan to life faster than ever — you’d be able to enact your just revenge with the Fatui by your side, with him as your second in command, however he could always… “I need to make sure I’m your favorite, don’t you think? I still need to make up for what I’ve done.”

God, was he a selfish bastard — but you’d forgive him, wouldn’t you? You’d already forgiven him for being so cruel to you, you’d forgive him for being selfish too, right?

His cheeks earn a sudden pink tint, your favorite; you’d love him, you’d adore him – you’d rule over the land with him by your side, he’d be everything you’d ever need in a partner, in a man.

Once you’d regained your strength, you’d shower him in love, you’d ravage him with gifts, you’d dedicate yourself to him, you might even allow him a chance to worship your body — give him the privilege to explore and devote himself to you like no other had done before. He’d become your most loyal follower, your most treasured creations, he’d become yours. Sure, he would still have The Tsaritsa to serve but when even she worshiped you, she’d understand. He could become a bargaining chip, he’d become yours – your knight in shining armor, in exchange for your help.

There were so many ways he could become yours, he felt a perverted shiver run down his spine.

Hah… he really wanted to be your favorite, to be yours.

They’d all treated you so badly up until he came, he was the first to realize who you were and your worth so surely that allowed him some leeway to cement himself as yours, only yours and only for you.

He slowly climbed above your dizzied body, leaning down to press a soft trail of kisses down your cheeks, his hands still entangled with yours. A soft moan leaves your mouth, earning you a groan from the man, if only you knew how much he had waited for this moment.

“Mmh, ah,” a trail of saliva connects the flushed skin of your neck to his tongue as he speaks, “let me be yours, I’ll…,” a lick is planted near your ear and Childe can’t help but groan at the taste – you were so addicting, “I’ll make it up to you… I’ll become your favorite.”

him.

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.

practice making reference sheets with a design i made for dnd! dm had us make npcs that turned out to be disguises for our characters… the campaign is set in the 60s so i made a concertgoer bard minotaur

(wip?) ~<3

Evacuating families with young children 1

Vetted Palestinian Campaigns. Please donate if you can and share!

Sep 5-12. Updated Sep 7.

My other promotion lists | Campaigns close to goal

See post: Give the Al-Habil (@/abdelmutei) family a better life.

PayPal, credit/debit: € 12,239 12,391 / 25,000

Urgent: Yosef El-habil: @khadiga22 (current?), @saveyouseffamily, @girlquee (Butterfly Effect Project #406). Baby suffers from severe respiratory illness untreatable in Gaza.

Paypal, credit/debit: € 11,080 13,257 / 20,000

Muhammad Shehab: @mohammed--shehab (vet).

Paypal, credit/debit: € 8,870 9,204 / 25,000

URGENT: Amal Ashour: @amalashuor (Vetted Evacuation spreadsheet #175). Short term goal to care for dangerously malnourished baby.

Paypal, credit/debit: € 33,520 34,483 / 40,000 (short term goal / €50,000)

Far from goal: Mohammed Matar: @mohammedmatar90, @matarmoh (vet, Vetted Evacuation spreadsheet #254).

Paypal, credit/debit: € 2,631 3,381 / 20,000

Pinned Campaigns

URGENT: See post: Let's evacuate the Haboub family's most vulnerable members in September. One member's condition is declining and needs to be evacuated within the week. Awaiting more details.

Credit/debit: SEK 143,805 152,791 / 163,478 (short term goal / 234,000 SEK) $10 USD = 105 SEK

Tagging random ppl. I'd really appreciate a share and donate if possible. Want off my 'mailing list'? Please message me!

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