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#anyways in things that happened to me today:
weird-is-life · 1 day
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Shouldn't I want you?
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Summary: Spencer lets you break up with him, thinking he is not enough for you
Words: 2.1k
Warnings: angst, happy ending, arguments, mentions of ice-cream, lots of tears, swear words, use of y/n and pet names, mentions of Spencer being in prison
----------------------------------------------------
Spencer has been acting weird lately. And you don't know why. He's been so distant. Making different excuses on why he couldn't make it to the dates.
He's also started texting you less and less. And the calls just seem forced from your side, like he doesn't even want to speak with you while away on cases.
It's honestly breaking your heart, and maybe that's Spencer's plan. To just break your heart so you would break up with him.
It's making you so anxious that you wait everyday for the text from him that will say 'It's over. I'm breaking up with you.' But it doesn't come, and you don't know what to think of it. You don't even know why would he want to break up. You don't think that you've done anything wrong, and you are very certain that Spencer hasn't done anything wrong either. This whole thing is just so unusual.
On the one hand, Spencer is almost ghosting you, but on the other hand he doesn't want to break up? You are so confused about the whole situation.
You are crying over the break-up that hasn't even happened yet, watching your tv with a big bowl of ice cream in your lap. Spencer's supposed to come home today from a case, but you know he's not going to come to your apartment. He hasn't done that in the last few weeks, not since he's started being so distant.
So you sit in a pit of your tears, cheesy rom-coms and a bucket of ice cream. Suddenly, there's a knock on your door, and looking at the clock you know exactly who it is.
You panic, you didn't expect him to come. You quickly wipe your tears away, and hide the ice cream in the freezer. You know that you look puffy anyways as you open the door with a big sigh and a fake smile.
Spencer, of course, sees right through it.
"Hi- what's wrong?" Spencer immediately asks with a frown. He pushes you gently out of the doorway, and steps inside too as he closes the door.
"N-nothing," you lie, trying to force a smile on your face, "what...what are you doing here?"
A quick flash of hurt and confusion passes over Spencer's face, "I wanted to see you."
You suck in a shaky breath,"oh."
"Oh?" Spencer asks, baffled. "Seriously sweetheart, what's wrong?"
"Don't-Don't call me that," you whisper, eyes on the ground.
"What?" Spencer's eyes go wide, "I shouldn't call you sweetheart?"
You sigh, and look up at Spencer. He looks so lost by what you mean, and for a split of a second you think good, let him be confused. You've been confused for the last few weeks because of him. But then you remember that it's Spencer, still very much the Spencer you love.
"Yes, you shouldn't," you sniffle a little, "because it's only hurting me more."
"I-" Spencer starts.
"Spencer, just let me finish. I think that we both know that you don't want to be in a relationship with me anymore. So please Spencer, let's just not do this anymore. I can't keep going on like this, it's-it's just too much. It hurts too much," you say, your cheeks wet with tears yet again.
Spencer stays quiet, it's actually one of the rare times that he doesn't know what to say, and it just breaks your heart even more.
"Y-you won't even say anything? No reason why?" your voice breaks in the middle of the sentence. But looking at Spencer's teary eyes and completely shut mouth, you know, you two are done.
"I-It's over, Spencer. Please just go, you can come take your things some other day," you don't even wait for him to say anything. You go open the door and look anywhere, but him while he slowly leaves.
You don't have the courage to look at him. You hear him sniffle, but don't look. You can't see his broken face, it would be even worse than it already is.
Spencer leaves, and you slam the door shut behind him. It feels like your heart is being cut open by millions of tiny glass pieces as soon as the door closes.
You barely manage to walk towards the couch before you break down. Sobs violently shaking with your body.
-
A few days go by, and it's only when you don't pick up your phone on like the 20th try does Penelope march into your apartment.
You reluctantly open the door after she knocks, and knocks, insisting she's not leaving until you open the door.
"Hi," you greet her, and you immediately notice her slightly shocked face at the sight of you. And you get it. You haven't slept properly for the last few days, and the almost constant tears can't help either.
"Oh my gosh, honey, come here," Penelope instantly pulls you into an embrace, and you melt into it like a puddle.
She squeezes you tightly until you're ready to let go. "Pen, what...what are you doing here? Did Spencer send you?"
"Don't even say his name. He's in big, big trouble," she says in her own angry way. A small smile appears on your face when she says it.
"I can't believe he's done this. He can be such an idiot sometimes even if he really is a genius," you don't argue with that, but you don't want to talk about Spencer either. He's been on your mind enough as it is right now.
"Can we...can we not talk about it? I just want to get over it, and move on as soon as possible, "you sigh. You let Penelope in, and you want to make her go sit down to the living room while you make the tea, but she insists on staying in the kitchen with you.
"Believe me, honey, I wouldn't want to talk about Spencer if it wasn't important," she starts, and your mind immediately goes to the worst possible scenario.
Seeing your wide, worried eyes she adds, "he's okay. He's just stupid, that's all."
"Yeah," you agree quietly, even if you know that it's not true. Spencer maybe used to be clueless about things like relationships, but that has changed. He was never clueless in your relationship.
"Oh sweetheart, " Penelope rubs your shoulder in comfort, "I could beat him up for making you so sad."
Her very serious tone makes you let out a small chuckle. You and her both know that she wouldn't even hurt a fly let alone Spencer, her dear friend.
"Thanks, Penny, but it's okay, I'm okay. Spencer didn't want to be with me anymore, and i-i made my peace with that or-or at least i will eventually."
"But that's just it. That's what I came here to tell you. Spencer loves you, and he just let dumb people with dumb opinions get to his head," you almost burn yourself with the warm water for the tea when you hear her words.
"What do you mean?" you quizz. You forget about the tea, and turn to her.
"He'd heard some people talk about you and him. Some colleagues saw you two together somewhere, and started gossiping. He heard them say that you're too good for him with him being in prison and all-"
"What? That's just ridiculous," you exclaim, you've never heard such a bullshit before.
Of course, you know that Spencer was in prison, but you also know he was innocent. You knew Spencer even before he went to prison, and maybe he did change a bit, but he was still the same Spencer. The Spencer you've always been in love with.
"Exactly, I told him the same, but he wouldn't listen, " she looks sympathetically at you, "I think that Spencer just loves you so much that he's willing to let you go for better or worse."
You are stunned. You stand there absolutely baffled, and Penelope just looks at you with understanding. It takes you good few minutes to finally say something.
"You knew about this?" you question as you head towards the door with Penelope on your heels.
"No, I found out yesterday otherwise I would have told you sooner," you quickly put on your shoes as you listen to her.
"I know you would. Thank you for telling me this, Pen. You're the best," you give her a tight hug.
"He's at home right now," she tells you, you appreciatively smile at her, and basically run to your car with Spencer on your mind.
-
When Spencer opens his door, you instantly push yourself inside. You don't give him even a second to react, protest or say anything.
"Spencer Reid!" you start angrily. "I can't fucking believe you. You let us break up over some stupid gossip? And you didn't even tell me?" You say, hurt.
"It's not stupid, it's true-" Spencer starts calmly, a complete contrast to you. But on the inside he feels like he's going to pass out. It was already hard for him without seeing you, but now it feels like hundred times worse.
"Like hell it is!" you argue. "Spencer of course you're enough for me. I don't care what anyone says. It's not even true anyways. I don't care that you've been in prison, i don't care about any of it."
"But it is true. I'm no good for you. You can do so much better, sweetheart. Like look at me," he gestures towards himself, " I'm such a mess, my life is always messy. You don't deserve this kind of life, you deserve so so much better. You don't deserve to be waiting late at night for me to come home, wondering if i even come home. I can't let you have that kind of life. I'm not worth it."
Finally, Spencer lets the tears go down his cheeks freely. He knows what he is giving up by breaking up with you. He'd planned his whole life with you by his side. But it's better this way. Well that's at least what he is telling himself anyway.
"Don't you get it, Spencer?" you laugh dryly from the frustration, "I don't want better. I don't want anyone else. I just want you. I want you, Spence."
You sniffle slightly, and look at Spencer with hopeless eyes begging him to understand.
"You shouldn't, sweetheart, you shouldn't want me," Spencer tells you helplessly, running his hands through his hair.
You take a brave step towards him.
"Why shouldn't I?" you start. "Shouldn't I want the sweetest, the kindest person I know in my life? Shouldn't I want to be with the person that makes me smile, and makes my heart go fast? Shouldn't I want to be with somebody I completely trust? Shouldn't I want my best friend in my life forever? Shouldn't I want somebody who I feel safe with? Shouldn't I be with somebody I love the most?"
"So Spencer you tell me? Shouldn't i? Shouldn't i want you?" your cheeks are wet from the flowing tears, too.
Spencer shakes his head. You're impossible. How could he ever think that you'd just get over him without questioning why. He should have known better than that.
Spencer takes the final step that's between you two, and softly wipes away the tears from your puffy cheeks.
"I just want what's best for you," he whispers with a broken voice. Looking right into your watery eyes.
"Then let me have you!" You point at his chest with a sniffle. You see Spencer's face soften, like he finally understands.
Spencer's hands move from your cheeks to your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. "A-are you sure?"
"Spencer, you're unbelievable, " you say, vexed, "there's no one else for me Spence. No one."
Your words are the final thing for Spencer to breakdown, to allow himself to be with you. He pulls you towards him, hugging you oh so tightly. He hides his face into the space between your neck and shoulder. You feel the wetness of his tears run down your skin.
"There's no one else for me, too," he whispers into your shoulder. You hum in agreement, not ready to say anything yet.
After a few minutes you pull away, caressing Spencer's cheek you smile at him. "I love you," you mumble, "Please don't ever let people get to your head like this. At least not without telling me, yeah?"
"Yeah," Spencer says in hushed voice, leaning into your gentle touch. "I love you, thank you for not letting me be an idiot."
You both chuckle, sniffling, and it finally feels like it's all going to be okay. Like your worlds won't be ending after all.
You and Spencer go snuggle on his couch, content to be near each other again after the few days apart, and even if you know that there's still a conversation to be held tomorrow, you feel happy.
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adventuringblind · 1 day
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Entitled To You (3.6K words)
Norstaptri x Reader
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Summary: An incident with Lance sends the boys into a frenzy. She just wants to do what she loves.
Warnings: Explicit depictions of r@pe, injury descriptions, panic attacks, Oscar plots a murder, Lando throws hands, Car crashes, Author doesn't know legal stuff, Head trauma and blood.
Notes: This one is a request from @Lily234566 I know this wasn't the original pairing but I was struggling to fit the Ferrari boys in there so I had to scale it back... I'm sorry and I hope you still like it! T_T
Side Note: Sorry to the Lance girlies reading this. AND obligatory message of I don't know these people and this is purely FICTION! HEAD THE TAGS! DONT LIKE THEN DONT READ!
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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“Max!” She peeks her head into his driver's room. The bright beaming smile she receives in return after their 1-2 nearly kills her. “They want me for a media thing, apparently.” HIs smile drops into a pout. The sad puppy eyes might convince her to stay. 
“Again? Don’t they know we have plans!
“No, and why would they care anyway?” She looks him up and down and whines because he’s standing in front of her with no shirt on. “Just - I’ll meet you guys back at the room. It’s something to do with being a female in F1… again.”
“I’m starting to think they have nothing else to talk about.” 
She shrugs as she walks out of the hospitality, waving to Christian on her way by. The goal is to get past the Mclaren garage without seeing Lando because otherwise she is not going to the interview. His pout is worse (better?) than Max’s. 
To her pleasant surprise, Laura is the one conducting the interview. “I’m sorry about this being last minute! They said they wanted you to do it with someone else next week and I offered to do it now.” 
The interview passes with ease and thankfully doesn’t take long at all. The banter in-between is also entertaining. 
She’s exhausted when they finish. Ready to go back to the hotel and fall into bed with her boys. Hopefully They’ve ordered food - and dessert. 
The paddock is nearly empty as she makes her way through. Maybe, had she been paying more attention and not focussed on her aching body, she would’ve caught on to the footsteps behind her. 
They are heavy, she assumes possibly a mechanic still packing up to continue on their way to the next circuit. That’s what she still thinks when the hand on her bicep yanks her around the corner. 
If she weren’t as exhausted, then fighting would’ve been a possibility. However, that seems out of the cards as he pins her against the nearest wall. Her forehead hitting the surface hard enough to make her dizzy. 
“Not so confident now, huh?” 
The fuck- “Lance? What are you?-” He slams her head again and cages her body against his own. She flails, only to be slammed again. “Would you stop doing that please?” 
“Not after that stupid stunt you pulled today on track.”
“You mean the one where you showed you don’t know what brakes are?-” Again, her head is sent into the hard surface. She can feel her nose starting to bleed. “Must you?!” She decided to shut up when he does it again and everything starts to go fuzzy. 
His fingers dip beneath the waistband of her fireproofs. The cold evening air hits her bare skin and she panics more than before. Her head is too cloudy to fully comprehend what’s happening. 
“I feel like I'm entitled to a bit of compensation after that stunt.” 
“You’re entitled to nothing. You took yourself out!” She hisses through gritted teeth. Still, Lance continues to get her clothes lower. And slams her head again harder - you know - because she wasn’t disoriented enough already.
“Would you shut up?” She doesn’t say anything this time. Her mouth feels numb and her ears are ringing. Her exposed lower half is met with the bare hands of someone she doesn't want touching her. 
It's - well - it hurts. He's groping at her thighs, ass, even her tits which she isn't sure how he's managing. His hands are everywhere they shouldn't be. 
And then nothing. 
A vague awareness of what's happening seeps through her veins and invades her senses. She tries to scream. Attempts despite the sheer pain of the snap of hips she didn't ask for. 
His finger beat her to it. A hand encloses around her throat and cuts off her oxygen. The black spots dance around her vision. She wants them to stop moving; they are making her dizzy. Or was she already dizzy? 
“See, it's not so bad. Don't you feel less guilty for ruining my race now?” No, she doesn't. She wasn't guilty before. 
She blacks out. 
~~~♡~~~
Waking up with sore limbs and a killer headache is not how she pictured this night going. She tries to yell for help, but a mere creaky rasp escapes. 
When did she lose her voice? The thought makes her panic more. The sob she lets out hurts more than there is sound. 
Her face and hair is sticky. At least Lance had done her the courtesy of not finishing inside of her. 
Still - what the fuck even happened? The fragmented memory is trying to come back to her slowly. Each small piece remembered is another broken cry. 
She can't move. 
It's dark again. 
~~~♡~~~
The anxiety between the three boys is certainly not something they are used to. Oscar can pinpoint the exact moment Lando started overthinking and Max had to bear hug him so he didn't pace a hole into the cement of the parking lot. 
The fourth seat in their car remains empty and their messages have gone unanswered. It's getting more concerning with each passing minute. 
“Max, she always responds.” 
“I know Lando.” 
“She always calls if she's going to be longer.” 
“Lando?”
“Yes?”
“Would you feel better if we went and looked around for her?” 
The Brit nods his head in a fashion that might give him whiplash. It's better seeing him feel helpful then sit helplessly. Though Oscar can't help but agree with Max's original point. that they should wait there at the car just in case since that's where they were supposed to meet. 
Granted, it's only been twenty minutes. It's still long enough to be murdered. 
They Methodically peer around corners and wave at the mechanics who give them skeptical looks. They were supposed to be out for post race celebrations by now. 
Oscar freezes when he sees it. The human shaped lump lying on the ground. He rushes over with long strides. The closer he gets, the more familiar the person on the ground becomes. 
“Max! Lando! I found her!” The other two boys come sprinting in his direction. He's on the ground trying to clear her hair from her face only for it to get stuck in the sticky substance coating her features. 
“What the fuck?” 
Her fireproofs are still on, but it's obvious what happened. The handprints on her neck, the blood trickling down the sides of her face. “We need to bring her to a hospital.” 
Max hoists her up in his arms. Mainly because Lando is on the brink of tears and struggling to breathe through his panic. He loves deeply and with his heart on his sleeve. Oscar just hopes he can keep the Brit calm until they find more help. 
“Can we at least clean her up?” Lando pleads with him. Big Hazel eyes brimming with tears. 
It's always a struggle to tell him no. “We can't, not if it can help us figure out who did it.” The tears start right after that. 
“So that’s what happened then? Someone really-” Oscar has to maneuver the puddle of tears that is his boyfriend into the passenger seat of their rental car. Max tosses him the keys, opting to be with her in the back and keep her comfortable. 
The tricky drive to emergency is more because Oscar is too far in his own thoughts to pay attention to the traffic lights. He can hear Max moving her around, attempting to put pressure where blood still flows freely. 
Oscar doesn’t bother with parking. He pulls off into some empty area and helps Max shoulder her weight inside the doors while Lando runs ahead to find help. 
It’s fast after that. They take her away and start patching her up while the three of them are forced to sit in the waiting room. Oscar and Lando are left to their own devices while Max paces about on the phone with Christian. 
He feels like a knife is being driven through his chest each time his mind tries to come up with what could’ve happened. Who would do something like this? Unfortunately, a lot of people. The question is more of who could’ve done it and gotten away. Someone with access to the paddock this late. Security, perhaps? Maybe even a sleazy mechanic? A driver wouldn’t make any sense… right?
“When will they let us see her?”
“When she wakes up, most likely.”
He’s not sure when he falls asleep. The exhaustion finally hit him like a truck despite his persistence. He’s awoken by Max’s constant shaking and aggressive whispering of his name. 
“-She’s asking for us.” 
He’s up faster than Lando when Jon threatens an ice bath. They follow the nurse down the halls with an uneasy anticipation. They creep inside the sterile room and find her staring at the wall. 
Lando doesn’t hesitate to move further into the room. Always having been more in touch with his emotions then the other two boys. “Hey love, can I come closer?” 
She looks at him. The bandages plastered over the sides of her head and around her face now visible to them. She returns Lando’s gaze with glassy eyes. It’s damn near shocking when she tries to pull things off her body in a desperate attempt to reach for Lando. 
Lando gets to her before she can get everything off, specifically the IV, and catch her arms. Oscar and Max finally pull themselves together and manage to get her to lay back down with some coaxing. 
She’s shaking violently. Her grip on Lando’s arm is sure to leave bruises. “Who - who f-found me?”  
“We did, schat. We got worried when you didn’t respond.” Max drags the two chairs in the room closer and pulls Oscar down into one.  Lando, against all odds, manages to wriggle his way into bed with her. 
“I know who it was. I - well - does anyone else know?” 
“Just Christian and us.” Oscar can feel the fight Max is putting up to not ask her more questions. The way he’s grounding himself with a hand on Oscars knee instead. 
“You don’t have to tell us.” He attempts to reassure. Maybe calm her mind by giving her an option. “Just know we’re here, alright?” 
“I don’t want it to be a big story. It’s already going to be since I can’t be in the car for the next four weeks. Oh fuck - everyone is gonna know-” Lando hushes her; gets her to somehow hold him tighter.
“Christian said it’s up to you, whatever happens.” Max nods at her encouragingly. “We go at your pace.” 
“They did a rape kit. They’ll know who it is. It was all over so it couldn’t have been hard to get DNA - oh fuck” 
Her heart rate picks up. The nurses rush in. They send her back to sleep. 
~~~♡~~~
Max wants to know who it was who touched her. The rage simmering underneath her skin is almost too much to keep contained. 
On the more fortunate side, they were allowed to stay since she wouldn’t let go of Lando. Then when he did have to get up, they rotated. 
The doctors and nurses learned to approach her like she’s a scared animal. The heavy footsteps seem to set her off and there is now a sticky note on the door saying to tiptoe when entering. It’s endearing to see her doctors and nurses trying so hard not to startle her. But seeing as they’ve now had several incidents where she’s panicked, they are taking more caution. 
Oscar and Lando have meandered away in search of food. Max opted to stay put and made the promise to bring him back cheat foods. He’s too stressed to not eat something of comfort. 
Her physio is supposed to come by today with the stuff she left at the track and get an update from the doctors themselves instead of Max’s botched attempts at repeating back. It will also be nice to see her comfortable, as the one blanket that travels with her everywhere will also be dropped off. 
“Max?” He tightens his hold to show he’s listening. “It’s not fair… You, Lando, and Oscar make a mistake on track and nobody does that to you. I - It wasn’t my fault.” 
The thing is, Max is smarter than people give him credit for. The only incident on track was with Lance. An incident that was his own fault. “He’s at fault, not you. None of this is your fault.”
“They are going to say I was asking for it or something.” 
“In those fireproofs? The only ones asking for it are me and Oscar… for obvious reasons.” He chuckles proudly at his little self compliment. 
It also manages to get her to crack something of a half smile. “Are you complimenting your own ass?” 
“And what if I am?” 
She doesn’t eat anything despite it being sat in front of her. Soft foods are the only thing she’ll be eating. Her throat, albeit not as bad as it could've been (thank you F1), is still damaged and needs to rest as much as possible. 
They had to keep her for observation due to where the head wounds had been. It’s been a rough thirty-six hours, but they are managing.
Despite the hectic situation, Max has come to learn that the female lying in the hospital bed is a better person then the rest of them. Oscar was detailing a full proof murder plan while she was telling him not to make it a bigger deal then it is. To which Oscar politely put his ten step plan with four contingencies down and told her that it’s ‘what he had coming to him’. 
Max has not had to stop someone from assassinating a rival before, but Oscar seems like a reasonable guy. “Death is too good for him.” 
“Mm, you’re right, I’ll just make sure he doesn’t die then and can’t see my face.” 
“Or, we make his life a series of inconveniences! I feel like daddy’s money could get him good therapy. It can’t solve every minor problem.” Lando has a gleam in his eyes. 
Him and Oscar start pouring over ideas once more. The girl simply shakes her head and goes back to eyeing her pudding like it’s assaulted her. “I don’t want to leave here, Max.”
“Why not? I’d assume you want to go home? Sleep in a comfortable bed?”
“Out there, they can get to us. Here is safe.” 
He considers how to reassure her. Only, there is nothing he can think of. The truth is that outside of this hospital room, there is no guarantee they won’t run into trouble. 
“I can’t promise that we'll never have something bad happen again. But-” He looks to the McLaren duo brainstorming ways to make the Aston Martin garage regret existing. “We’ll be there for each other. We’re here for you. When you want us and when you need us, yes?” 
“Pinky swear?” She extends her pink to him. 
Max accepts and curls his pinks around hers. “Pinky swear.” 
~~~♡~~~
It’s not fair really, that they had to leave to go do things. Lando would prefer he at least stayed with her so she isn’t alone. Alas, they are preparing for her discharge and he had to run around getting things together for their trip back to Monaco.
He comes back to a partially opened door and smiles at the other two boys being able to get back before him. Then again, as he gets closer he can hear the angry tone. One that Max uses when he’s pissed off about something. 
Lando panics and rushes inside. Only to be met with the sight of the last person he wants around right now. 
Now - he wouldn’t say he’s prone to violence. Lando prefers to keep the peace when it comes to conflict unless he’s trying to piss someone off on purpose to get a reaction. This is not one of those times. 
Lando’s knuckles collide with the Canadian’s jaw faster than he can fully become aware of what he’s doing. Lance stumbles backward and holds his jaw, glaring at Lando like he’s the one in the wrong here. 
“Get out!” 
“We were just talking-” 
“I said. Get. Out.” He’s seething. The thudding in his chest becoming louder with each second Lance remains in this room. 
He’s not prone to violence. 
Really, he’s not. 
Yet the second crack of knuckles into Lance's chin gives him some sick satisfaction. Isn’t there something about equilibrium? Can he pin this on restoring the balance or something? Regardless, he isn’t going to dent the fact that it feels good. 
The nurses come running and start asking questions. Max and Oscar have to drag Lando away kicking and screaming. 
Worse is when they try to tell him that there are pictures out on social media. Christian has been calling Max non-stop. Oscar has been dealing with Zak. Their relationship isn’t a secret and neither is their current location.  
“They're sending us a different car to see if we can’t get out discreetly.” 
“What happened with Lance, Lan? Are you alright?”
Everyone is panting. Their eyes trained on the door. “I punched him. I restored the equal-brey-um… thing.” 
“Equilibrium.” 
“Yeah that!” 
He’s not sure how they get on the plane. He’s still amped up about the whole punching thing and running purely off adrenaline. 
They’ve been sitting in silence, mulling over their options. Creating statements they can put out. It’s hectic and they keep trashing them because nothing fits. 
The female has been apathetic. The last thing she wanted was for this to get out and now it has. Seemingly everything is flashing before her eyes. Her career will be gone soon enough, so what’s even the point? 
“Don’t post anything. We don’t have an obligation to confirm or deny the rumors. If anything, we can say that you were just driving me to the hospital and being good friends or whatever.” She won’t look at them. Still - Lando can hear how upset she is, the waiver in her voice. “I’m going to be kicked out anyway.” 
“Christian said-”
“Damn what Christian said! He knows this isn’t going to get any better and if I say who it was then Daddy’s Money is just going to pay his way through.” She's hyperventilating now. Her body collapses against her seat and Oscar makes an effort to get her to lean against him. “It’s not fair!”
lando Can’t help but share her feelings.
~~~♡~~~
She stays holed up in the Redbull garage the next weekend. The appearance is hard, people want to ask her questions. Her boys had been caught in the middle of the riptide and haven’t come back to shore yet. 
At least she’s here. She’s trying her hardest to look stronger than she is. On the inside things are falling apart. 
The team knows to give her space and not ask about the ordeal. She takes refuge in Max’s room when things are too much and the other drivers keep their distance. 
They know it was one of them. She’d been adamant on not saying who it was, but it’s obvious there are sixteen who it could have been, given her partners insistence that none of them go near her garage for the time being.  
She just wants this whole thing to blow over. She wants to lay in bed with her lovers and not flinch when they go to touch her. 
She knows, however, that until she deals with things that healing can’t happen like it should. Or at least, that’s what her therapist says. The one she is now required to see. 
Things get worse when she’s back in the car. Her media duties are limited so she can focus on driving and ‘listening to her body’ as her physio likes to say. 
She can’t hear her body over the sound of her mind going staticy as Lance closes in on her. The catalyst for everything. She panics and ends up in the wall. Not the worst crash ever, but certainly hurts her pride more than it has already.
The thing is, it keeps happening. Even as she’s able to let her boys back in. As her podium finishes start to come back. Her fireproofs (which they’d gotten her all new ones) start to feel comfortable again and she doesn’t feel the need to be out of them the second the race is done. Still, Lance is using this to his advantage. 
Finally, after he almost killed her on track (again), she’s had enough.
The trial goes better than she thought it would. Despite the money differences, Lance won’t be able to race anymore. It’s not some grand spectacle either, just an announcement like usual. It’s more the closure she needed versus the publicized drama it could have been. 
She wins the next race. 
“If I ever see him again, it will be too soon.” 
“It’s been over a year now, Lan. I’m getting better.” There is a genuine smile on her face. The car awaits to take them back to the hotel. It was here that it happened. She almost considered not racing because of it.
“Lando got a taste of blood and now he’s feinding for it.” Max has a comforting hand around her waist. A grounding presence. 
“I mean, I never threw away my murder plot…” 
“You’re a genius Oscar!”
She shakes her head. It’s not like any of this has been easy. It never is. Still - her boys are here and they’ve been so patient. 
“There’s her smile.” They all beam at her. 
She smiles back.
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weneeya · 3 days
Note
comforting nanami after a long day ??
Angst to fluff ofc, he starts being dry over text and accidentally ignores u at home but then realizes and apologizes and we comfort him <3
Some peaceful time
hurt to comfort with Nanami
YES omg I love this idea as much as I love nanami himself, thank you for this!! feel free to request :)
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Nanami Kento wasn’t the type to do anything that could hurt you. In fact, he was always really careful about it because he loved you so much ; doing anything bad to you was probably the worst thing for him. But today was complicated. 
He had a difficult day, a way too long one which seemed to never come to an end. You tried to text him, because you started to worry as he was usually never this late. Except that you didn’t think he would be this harsh to you. His messages were dry, more than they have ever been to you. It was almost like you were annoying him. 
You decided to wait until he came home, so you could understand what was happening. But when he finally came back, he didn’t even glance in your direction. You stood up to welcome him, but your husband simply made his way to the kitchen without caring about your presence. It hurt, you had to admit it. He never treated you this way and you thought that you did something wrong. 
You decided to leave him alone, not wanting to be more of a burden than you already seemed to be to him. You joined the living room again, sitting on the couch and taking back the book you were previously reading. Maybe it would help you think about something else. 
As Kento was drinking the coffee he just made, as it would be a good idea, a long sigh left his lips. He turned around to say something, before he noticed that you were gone. This is when he realized what he had done since he came home. He closed his eyes, another sigh leaving his lips. He massaged his temple for a moment, before he came back to the living room. 
He simply walked towards you, before kneeling in front of you. You put your book on the side, a slight frown over your face. What was he doing exactly? Nanami took the book from your hands, putting it on the table behind him. Then, he took your hand between his and left a kiss on top of it. You finally met his gaze, and you could see how tired he seemed to be. 
“I’m sorry my love, I shouldn’t have acted this way with you. Forgive me, please,” he said, and you didn’t give him the time to say anything more. You made him stand up, and guided him to sit next to you on the couch. Kento let you do it, as he didn’t have the strength to disagree anyway. 
In no time, he was now laying down on the couch, with his head on your thighs. Your fingers were slowly running through his hair, and he had his eyes closed. He could almost be falling asleep right now. Nobody was able to ease his heart and his mind as much as you could do it. 
“How about you take a few days off? You need it, Kento,” you started, and he simply hummed as an answer. You were probably right, he really needed those days to take some time. Not only for himself, but also for you. You deserved to be treated better, and he was ready to spend his days off only by taking care of you. You were the best thing that ever happened in his life.
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as I always say, here's the best husband anyone could dream of <3 thank you for reading!!
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pukanavis · 1 day
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Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 1
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ーThe Yumenosaki Academy library, two years since the establishment of ES.
Fuyume: Excuse me?
Are there any fairy tales here…?
Oh, the shelf over there is the section for picture books and stuff?
Thank you for your help.
~...♪
(Ah, she was right. Yume recognises a bunch of the books over here.)
(They’ve got a good selection to choose from but the categorising is a mess. They’re just randomly thrown onto the shelf without any care for alphabetical order or release date.)
(Oh well…apparently no one has any love for fairy tales…)
(‘The Little Mermaid, ‘Momotaro’, ‘Tale of The Bamboo-Cutter’, ‘Snow White’, ‘Urashima Taro’, ‘Cinderella’—)
(Oh! It might not be the one Yume was looking for but he’s in the mood to read Cinderella today.)
(This story is another one that Yume adores.)
(It’s a tale about love being rewarded.)
…♪
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Fuyume: …? Hm? Oh, uhm, you’re that nice person from earlier—did you need something?
You were so kind to Yume earlier, so he’d be happy to give you some company.
Huh? The Yumenosaki Academy library is off-limits to anyone that doesn’t work for or attend the school?
How could you tell that Yume isn’t a student here?
Ooh, cause Yume isn’t wearing the uniform…?
That makes sense…no biggie, Yume will be sure to wear the school uniform next time.
Yume is really good at sewing, so it won’t be a problem…fufu ♪
Huh? That’s not the issue?
Yume doesn't like anything you’re saying right now.
Here he was thinking you were a nice person.
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Fuyume: Huh? Yume’s name is Fuyume Hanamura.
And you are? …Anzu-san? You’re a graduate of Yumenosaki?
You’re here at your old school to do some producer work, huh? It made you feel nostalgic so you’ve been walking around the grounds…? 
Oh, is that the case? Hmm…♪
Then, aren’t you and Yume in the same boat? Yume goes to a middle school separate from Yumenosaki and you’ve already graduated…right?
It sounds like neither of us are allowed to be here.
Let's work together then, okay? If you pretend you never saw Yume, he won’t go around yelling, ‘There’s a trespasser in here!’ …♪
What do they call it? A contract, business, bargaining? Let’s do something like that…♪
If you’re willing to comply, Yume will leave you be. He isn't particularly interested in you anyway.
Yume is just here to read some fairy tales.
…♪
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Fuyume: Huh? Did you need something else? You want to know what Yume is reading?
Ehehe, you’re interested in fairy tales? Sounds like we can get along.
Ehehehehehe. Yume is just reading a picture book about the massively popular princess, Cinderella. Though, he actually wanted to read something else. 
Maybe you’ve heard of it? For some reason, no one in Japan knows about it—it’s a fairy tale about an amethyst. 
Even if you don’t know the story, maybe you’ve heard this quote before?
—”The amethyst broke into pieces.”
Fufu. I guess you haven’t heard of it. Oh well.
Basically, it’s a story about an ordinary girl that comes across an amethyst that can grant any wish that she desires.
In fact, she actually fuses with the amethyst and becomes a crystalised-human of sorts.
It’s a curse put on her by an evil witch…ehehehehe ♪
The plot is kinda similar to ‘The Happy Prince’. Actually, something like ‘Arabian Nights’ or ‘The Monkey’s Paw’ might be a better match.
After transforming into the wish-granting amethyst, the girl wishes for her crush to pay attention to her, or to become better friends with people—
With each little wish she makes, the amethyst uses its power and gradually begins to crack—
Aah…♪ Eventually, her body becomes so fractured that it crumbles away and she loses all of the love and friends that she had been granted.
Her loved ones view her like a monster and chase her away in fear.
After everything, the final wish she makes is—
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Fuyume: —Ah, wait, Yume thinks you should read it for yourself to find out what happens next. Spoilers are a crime!
Ehehe. If there’s one thing Yume can say, it’s that he empathises with the amethyst girl and even admires her.
At the end of it all, the final remaining piece of her—
Becomes a ring that showers the wedding between her best friend and the one she loved in joy.
After everything, her final wish is—wait, oops, Yume just realised how much he’s spoiling. He’s really really sorry.
You don’t mind? Really? You’re super kind, you know?
Ehehe. You see, Yume shares the same wish as the girl who became a ring.
—-“I wish for your life to be full of joy.”
During her final moments, the girl whose selfish asks led her to break apart used her last wish to bring someone else happiness. 
Ehehe. Yume doesn’t have the power to grant wishes but he’ll do everything he can to achieve that too.
For example, Esu goes to Yumenosaki so Yume snuck in to watch over him in secret.
Huh? Does Yume love Esu?
It depends how you define ‘love’ but yep, Yume loves Esu.
But it's sad, isn't it? The reality we live in isn’t a fairytale.
—The amethyst already shattered long ago.
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lucienarcheron · 10 hours
Text
That Single Thread of Gold [ Elucien ]
Prompt: Inspired by @eospaint lovely elucien piece here. I went a little nuts in the tags of it but then couldn't contain it and had to write this little fic! I love writing elucien being caught up in their awkward feelings stage. I hope you enjoy! | AO3
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He told himself it was for the best if he didn't see her this time. It was almost always awkward. Tense. Lucien could do without the stress of their uncomfortable interactions this visit; he was here to see Feyre, after all. He had given Feyre enough notice that she would inform Elain and there would be no need for them to cross paths. They had no need to see each other, especially when she had clearly never expressed the desire to see him anyway. 
So Lucien sat and waited in Feyre’s living room, let in by one of the twins. He sat and waited and tried not to let the crumpled pieces of his stupid heart hope. Tried not to set himself up for disappointment. His fingers drummed on his knees as he glanced towards the half open door, waiting for his friend to arrive. 
Instead, her scent flooded his senses. 
And then she appeared in the doorway. 
Lucien didn’t know what to do with himself as she blinked at him in surprise, almost as shocked as he was that she was standing there. 
Elain hadn’t even meant to stumble into the room. She knew he was coming today – Feyre had given her the heads up but – but something about her had been different today. Today felt different and she wasn’t sure why. Normally, Elain had no desire to meet him and allow herself to feel all the things she did whenever he was close. Normally, she was very good at being a coward and avoiding him. 
But today…that tug of the bond had pulled her into the room before she could stop it or realize what was happening.
She stood by the door and blinked, then blinked again. Elain hadn’t even realized he was already here.
Lucien stood immediately and as anticipated, the expected awkwardness unfurled between them, quickly followed by that strained tension.
Touch. Taste. Claim.
Lucien fisted his hands by his side and instead bowed graciously, murmuring, “My lady.” 
He said nothing more as his mate watched him, a muscle flexing in his jaw at her gaze, because here she was staring at him like she had no idea what to do with him and Lucien felt heat rise in his body. He swallowed, then cleared his throat and casually said, “I’m here to see Feyre. It seems she’s running a little late.”
“Oh.” is all Elain could think to reply and a flicker of emotion passed his expression quicker than she could read it. She licked her lips, her hands fisting in the folds of her dress and Elain couldn’t help but catalog every inch of him; she normally didn’t allow herself to look at him for too long and Elain wasn’t sure what it was this time around compelling her to take him in. 
Was it because it had been a while since she’d seen him? Was it the lack of sleep? Was it the thread of gold that chafed at her whenever he was in the general vicinity? He always seemed to handle himself so well around her despite what Elain had heard about the mating bond doing to males; he always handled himself so well.
She wished he’d yell at her, if only once. So she had a reason to actually avoid him. So she had a reason to resist him, to be justified in cowering. 
But no. He was always so polite.
Realizing a few moments had passed and she hadn’t said anything, Elain cleared her throat and said, “I’m not sure when Feyre will be back.”
Lucien tried not to fidget beneath her gaze despite the urge to shift on his feet. She’d never looked at him so directly before. It was unnerving him but Lucien didn’t let himself hope. He squashed down any possible emotions he could feel and instead nodded. “I understand. I’ll take my leave then.” he said and gave her a thin smile. “She knows where to find me.” 
He didn’t allow himself another word and instead, took a step aiming to leave but – but then Elain took a step towards him and he froze. 
All her senses went on high alert as Elain realized that she too had paused in that half step. A half step she had taken towards him before – long ago. Her eyes widened slightly and she watched as Lucien’s brows furrowed, his body strained as her pulse quickened beneath her skin, her heart pounding.
Lucien tilted his head, straightening, her reaction confusing him. “Is there something else I can help you with?” he asked tightly. 
And it was Elain’s turn to swallow because she didn’t know. Was there something else he could help her with? She hadn’t been alone with him in – in a long while. She had made sure of it.
She went out of her way not to actively think about him, not to have him in her mind so he wouldn’t follow her in her dreams the way he did anyway on so many nights. But now he was here standing in front of her and she wasn't sure what to do with him.
Her pulse was fluttering and Elain wanted to be angry with him even though none of this was really his fault. She wanted to be mean to him even though he didn’t deserve it. She just wanted someone who sees how wretched she feels about it all. She wanted someone to see behind her stupid fake smiles and her distance from him. She wanted someone to understand why.
And the longer she stood staring at him, the more Lucien seemed to read her mind. That single thread of gold between them…he seemed to understand the whirlwind of feelings she was battling and his expression softened for a moment. Like he really did see.
Elain almost hated that even more but she wasn’t even sure why and the thought threatened to release tears she had no business showing in front of him. Her bottom lip trembled for a breath before she straightened and shook her head.
Lucien stood still for a moment then forced himself to take a step then another until he stood in front of her and slowly, held out his hand. Then waited.
Because he could feel her. He could hear her heart and Lucien couldn’t stop himself from trying to bring her comfort in some way. The instincts beneath his skin wouldn't let him walk away when he knew his mate was on the verge of tears, even when Lucien had no idea if he was the reason for them.
This fae life – this mating bond had been thrust on her and the way she had been pretending to adjust since then was one of the main reasons he never pushed. He felt her confusion, her inner turmoil. He knew what it was like to swallow it all and play pretend. The least he could do was allow himself to be the guiding light through the dark for her. Even if he wasn’t sure she’d want that from him. Lucien couldn’t help but offer. 
Elain glanced down at his hand and she felt her throat tighten. They didn’t touch. They rarely even stood so close. Did she want to touch him? She didn’t know what his skin felt like but in her dreams – in her sleep she wondered – she felt like she knew – 
Before she could let herself doubt any further and even as the battle of emotions threatened to swallow her whole, Elain couldn’t help but slowly, carefully slide her hand in his. 
And it felt – it felt –
Elain felt herself take a breath. She waited for the discomfort. For the prickling anxiety that usually haunted her. For the wretchedness to snap at her heels.  
But his hand was softer than she imagined. Strong, calloused – a warrior’s hand but – it didn’t feel bad at all. It felt…better than expected. It was gentle. Warm.
She glanced at him then away, suddenly embarrassed and truly not sure what to do with herself. He was so patient and it only made her feel so much worse about herself. She owed him nothing and he owed her nothing and yet…
Lucien only held out his other hand and Elain met his gaze as he gave her a small knowing smile.
Elain’s throat bobbed and even as she slid her other hand into his, she whispered, “Why?”
The simple question seemed to make Lucien’s shoulders sag because even to Elain, her one question asked about a hundred more. Why was he still here? Why did he still try with her? Why did she hesitate to even speak with him? Why did she hide? 
Why? Why? Why?
“Because you looked like you needed some comfort.” he said quietly and shrugged. “And I know what it’s like to need a steady hand.” 
And it was like he’d snatched the breath from her throat. 
Had her sisters been right about what a mating bond could do for those blessed with one? About what her mate could do for her? Was it indeed a blessing then? Had she really only been hurting herself with her distance? She had only slid her hand in his, touching him so very lightly and yet…with this simple touch, Elain had found herself willing to stand in this room with him a little longer.
“A steady hand?” she repeated softly and the brush of his thumb against the back of her hand seemed involuntary.
“A steady hand and a good friend make all the difference.” he said and hoped his yearning wasn’t too obvious as she met his gaze again. 
“A good friend?” she repeated once more and the corner of his mouth lifted, the movement highlighting his scar as he nodded.
“Indeed.”
A friend. 
The thought seemed to hit Elain so suddenly and the sheer longing of it almost overwhelmed her. 
A friend. 
She needed one more than she could put into words and Elain could only stare at her mate. The rapid beating of her heart seemed so loud in the silence between them but for once, it was a comfortable silence. 
Comfortable enough that Elain found herself asking so very quietly as roses bloomed on her cheeks, “Do you happen to know any good friends available?”
His lips twitched and Lucien was sure the rapid beating of his own heart now matched hers as he answered in that same quiet tone, “I daresay, I have the perfect person in mind.” 
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pomefioredove · 1 day
Note
Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…
So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse
Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good
Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!
ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3
summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it
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Jamil Viper
Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.
That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.
Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.
It's a bit strange, isn't it?
Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.
He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.
But that sense of unease doesn't go away.
He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.
And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.
"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."
You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.
"Thank you," you mumble.
You can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.
"I'm fine,"
Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.
"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.
"I've... had a rough day,"
Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"
He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.
"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"
It.
What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.
"Did something happen?"
You hesitate.
"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"
Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.
He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.
But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.
"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"
"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."
He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.
He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.
"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"
Unlike me, he thinks.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"
Like me.
You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.
A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank you, Jamil,"
He hugs back. "Of course,"
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Ruggie Bucchi
It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.
You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.
Ruggie included.
He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.
He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.
And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.
Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?
He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.
Sigh.
"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"
"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."
The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.
"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.
"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"
You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.
You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"
"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."
The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"
"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"
Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.
"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"
"Did you find it?"
"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"
You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.
After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"
"What?"
"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"
You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.
Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"
"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"
"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"
He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"
"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"
You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.
And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He struggles to respond for a moment.
"That's rough,"
Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.
"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."
"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."
He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"
The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.
"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.
Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...
But that didn't bother him. Not at all.
As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.
That plan lasts about five hours.
"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"
That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.
And it's getting closer.
"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."
Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.
"I'm trying,"
This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.
"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"
Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.
He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.
"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."
"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"
This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.
You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"
"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"
"This is-"
"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.
"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"
Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"
"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?
"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.
"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"
"Your... offer...?"
Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"
"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"
He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."
Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.
"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."
Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"
"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."
"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.
As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"
"Are you alright?" he asks.
Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"
"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"
"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"
Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.
"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"
You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"
He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"
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Floyd Leech
Of course, he can tell something's up right away.
Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.
His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?
Now this catches his attention.
"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.
"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."
"But you're not,"
"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"
Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"
"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"
Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.
"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"
"Why?"
There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.
"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"
He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"
"FLOYD!"
He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.
When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.
"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."
You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"
"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.
Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"
"Are they ill?"
You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"
"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"
Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"
"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.
Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.
"Now will you tell me?"
"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"
Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"
"Tell me about it,"
"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"
You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"
"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."
"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.
His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"
His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"
"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"
"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"
His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"
"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"
You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"
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Rollo Flamme
Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.
The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.
The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?
They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.
He loathed being talked down to.
Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.
And now you're just quiet.
"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug.
"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"
No response at all.
Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.
"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"
"No,"
A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.
"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"
That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"
He struggles for the right words.
How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.
Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.
Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?
He couldn't quite come up with an answer.
"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."
"It's not your fault,"
"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.
"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.
Another pause.
"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"
144 notes · View notes
discordantwritings · 7 hours
Text
Creative Cures (Mihawk x Reader)
Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, sex pollen trope (but it’s a devil fruit power), the inherent dubcon of sex pollen but the con is as con as it can get under the circumstances, intercrural sex, PiV sex, creampie, mild cumplay, semi public sex
WC: 3.3k
Summary: As a relatively high ranking Marine doctor you were in charge of Dracule Mihawk’s post mission check ups. Normally you don’t have to do anything- until he shows up sick.
The only solution both you and him can agree on is a little… unconventional
Notes: I (lovingly) blame @fanaticsnail for this. All of her lovely sex pollen fics pushed me over the edge to write this one so go check hers out. Go.
Tagging: @keiva1000
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Most Marines didn’t like it when Mihawk had to come check in and give his after mission report in person. But you barely considered yourself a Marine anyways, always thinking of yourself as a doctor first before anything. A doctor who just so happened to be in charge of doing all of Mihawk’s post mission check ups.
Of course it took him a while to actually agree to do any sort of post mission work, but despite his generally sour attitude inside the Marines base he was never mean to you. Dismissive? Sure. Non-compliant with any medical advice you’d give? Yes. But that’s what you dealt with on a day to day basis. He was one of the few people you could have intelligent conversation with- he would listen to you and you would cherish the snippets of traveling stories you would get out of him.
Your check ups were never more than a handful of minutes, you had never seen him get more than a scratch, but he always let you run down your required checklist. Despite this you always cleared out half your day, just in case. So today, a day he was set to check in at your base, you sat patiently in your office until he was done talking with your superiors.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Until, finally, there was a frantic knock on your door before a frazzled looking cadet burst in. You immediately stand up and get serious- mass injuries were unfortunately commonplace for you to deal with and he had the scared look of someone who just saw a ship roll in half destroyed.
“Doctor-“
“How bad.”
“It’s Mihawk.”
That caught you entirely off guard and your stomach drops. “How bad?”
“We don’t know. He was giving his report and then he looked flushed and that’s when he ran out. Apparently he’s locked himself in some spare office and won’t come out.” He explains and you slowly get more and more concerned.
You quickly grab your bag and sling in over your shoulder, practically pushing the cadet out the door with you as you order him to show you where Mihawk is. It’s a quick jog down hallways and stairs but eventually you get to a door with two cadets on either side. One of your captains is leaning on the wall across from the door looking exasperated.
“The only thing he’s telling us is to leave him alone.” The captain explains, gesturing to the door.
You sigh and walk up to the door, rapping on it with your knuckles. “Mihawk, you’ve got everyone worried out here.”
A few seconds pass before you hear Mihawk’s voice, muffled from behind the steel door. “Doctor?”
“Everyone said you looked sick.” You explain.
There’s a long pause and you’re about to speak again before you hear his voice. “You all need to get out of here.”
You see the captain throw up his hands in your peripheral and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Turning your attention back to your fellow Marines you gesture down the hallway.
“Give me a few minutes alone with him.” You don’t need to tell them twice, and they eagerly take the relief.
You wait a few beats for them to clear out and then turn your attention back to the door. “Alright, it’s just us.”
“I thought I made it clear that all of you needed to leave me alone.” You can tell he’s close to the door, which you take as somewhat of a good sign.
“Look, if it’s something contagious I just need to know. If it’s something embarrassing I’m a doctor and I take confidentiality incredibly seriously.” There’s silence and you lean on the door. “Just let me help you.”
You hear him moving behind the door and then the heavy sound of the lock turning. You give him a few seconds before you enter, closing the door after yourself immediately.
All the lights are off, only the small amount of light through the high circular windows illuminating the space. It takes you a second to locate Mihawk but eventually you find him, shoulders hunched as he leans on an abandoned desk. It’s jarring to see his normally perfect posture gone and even in the low light you can see the intense flush over his face and exposed chest. You don’t need a thermometer to see that his temperature is dangerously high.
“What happened?” You don’t approach him, hoping the space gives him some comfort.
“It was-“ He breaks off as he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Some Devil Fruit user. Don’t know what the power was but I inhaled some smoke and then-“
He trails off and you know you’re probably in a bit over your head. Devil Fruit powers could be quite literally anything. You shove all that down though and hope your nervousness doesn’t show. “What are your symptoms?”
Mihawk shakes his head. “This was a mistake I shouldn’t have let you in you need to-“
“Mihawk I need you to tell me.” You’re unsure where this confidence is coming from, there’s not a world in which you would ever be in a position to tell a warlord what to do. But to your surprise, it works.
“I’ll kill you if you tell anyone.” He practically growls.
“You have my word.”
“Fine.” You see him shift and it looks like he’s uncomfortable in his own skin. “I have a fever, I am experiencing some mental fog, and my senses seem to be heightened.”
It’s your years as a doctor that let you immediately know he’s holding something back. “And?”
His gaze darts up and he glares at you making your blood run ice cold. If looks could kill you would be a pile of viscera on the floor. Despite this, he does give you and answer.
“I am in an… unnatural state of arousal.”
Oh.
That would certainly explain a few things.
You let your doctor brain take over as you set your bag on the ground, opening it and looking through what you have. Medication wouldn’t help since the cause was a Devil Fruit power but…
“Okay. I have a few ideas.” You reach into your bag and pull out an ice pack, throwing it over to Mihawk who easily catches it and presses it to his forehead. “The first is what you are doing, which is isolate until the effect stops. I’m not sure this is the best idea since you seem to be incredibly uncomfortable.”
“What else.”
“I could sedate you and hopefully have it flushed out of your system by the time you wake up.” You offer, showing him the vial of clear liquid.
“Absolutely not. I refuse to be further incapacitated around you Marines.” He spits out the last word and you would be offended if you actually considered yourself a Marine.
“Alright. Those are my… sensible ideas.”
“Which implies there are insensible ones. Spit it out.”
You can’t blame him for being short but it didn’t make your next concepts any easier to say. “I could find you someone to… ride it out with.”
That idea hangs in the air and you watch Mihawk screw his eyes shut, clearly struggling. “I don’t- it’s insufferable enough to be vulnerable on a Marine base but you want to bring in some stranger-“
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
A thought pops into your head as you scramble for more ideas as Mihawk’s composure slowly keeps slipping. It’s a stupid thought, one a doctor like you shouldn’t have even had. But in the moment, pressed for ideas, it tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think properly about it.
“I would help you.”
You realize what you’ve said a moment too late and wish that somehow the floor would swallow you whole. It’s not like you don’t want to- it’s clear that your stupid monkey brain has always held on an attraction to the incredibly handsome warlord- but offering yourself up like this?
Beyond wildly inappropriate.
“Don’t say things like that.” Mihawk says as he backs up a few steps and shame hits you like a brick wall.
“I’m so sorry- it was- you shouldn’t be with anyone when you’re compromised like this I’ll just-“ You fumble over your words and quickly turn to unlock the door and get out of there.
Before your hand can even reach the handle an arm comes out from behind you and slams on the door. Suddenly you feel the intense heat of Mihawk’s body behind you, heavy breath fanning over the back of your neck. He doesn’t press into your body but instead hovers and your mind can’t quite keep up with the sudden change in events.
“Don’t say things like that if you don’t mean it.” His voice is low and dripping with lust.
Your gaze is locked forward as you try to control your breathing. “I meant it.”
“Last chance.”
The professional part of your brain gets smashed to smithereens as he presses his body against yours. “If you’re sure you want this then-“
The air is knocked out of your lungs as he steps forward, pushing you harshly into the door. One hand knots in your hair while the other snakes around your waist and pulls you in impossibly closer. The grip on your hair forces your head to the side, giving Mihawk the space to attack your neck, teeth digging into your skin immediately. As he does so he grinds his hips up and you can feel just how painfully hard he is against your ass.
The hand on your waist pulls at your uniform pants and you quickly get the idea, using your free hands to shove them down. You’re only able to get them just over your ass with how your legs are pressed apart by Mihawk’s but that seems to be enough for him. His hands leave you for a second and you hear the clatter of his belt before both hands tightly grip your hips.
You feel his cock slide between your folds, not entering you but instead sliding between your lips. His shaft is almost scorching hot as it slides against your clit, slick dripping from you and easing his shallow and fast thrusts.
“I just- fuck I just have to take the edge of your so-“ The grip on your hips is bruising as he holds you still to use you.
“It’s alright just-“ You can practically feel every vein against your sensitive clit and you bring one of your hands up and back to dig into his hair.
The scratch of your nails in his scalp is all Mihawk needs to tip over the edge, grunting as he spills onto the door and your thighs. You feel his heavy breath on your neck as he collects himself but the hardness against you doesn’t fade. You hear frustration in a low growl against your back but despite this he places kisses over the deep bite marks he created on your neck.
Slowly Mihawk pries his body away from yours and you take the opportunity to quickly toe off your shoes and slip your pants all the way off. When you turn around you see Mihawk watching you from a large chair, slowly pumping his cock, soaking from you slick.
“Get the rest of that god awful uniform off doctor.” You quickly discard your jacket and pull your shirt over your head, earning an appreciative hum from Mihawk. “What a pity you have to hide all that.”
You flush under his compliment and piercing gold gaze. With his free hand he beckons you over and you obey without hesitation. The second you’re close enough he pulls you into his lap, your thighs pushed apart by his spread ones. Your hands grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself as his hands find your hips once more.
“Normally I would work you open darling but-“ He nuzzles into your neck, breathing in your scent. “You can take it, can’t you?”
He doesn’t wait for a reply before one incredibly strong hand pushes you down while the other lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him as his tip presses into you, stretching you out. You curse as he pushes into you a bit faster than you can adjust, but probably significantly slower than he wants to fuck into you. The sting feels good mixed with the way Mihawk curses and praises you under his breath, words barely understandable as his fingers bruise your waist.
“Just like that- so fucking tight-“ He mouths at your collarbone as you sink down and your head falls back as he splits you open.
Soon enough your hips meet his and you moan and dig your nails into Mihawk’s shoulders. He can’t help but shallowly thrust up into you, hot breath fanning over your skin as his instincts seem to overwhelm him. Once you feel ready you work to move your hips in time with his, pulling yourself up and down further on his length.
“That’s it- you’ve been waiting for an excuse to fuck yourself on my cock huh? Proper little doctor- I’ve seen how you- fuck- how you look at me.” You flush with embarrassment and look down to see his golden eyes blown out by darkness.
Maybe you should have some shame, knowing you were seen through so easily, but when he looks up at you like that you can’t think of anything else. You quickly press your lips to his and he seems caught off guard for a second- only to quickly overtake the kiss. One strong hand grips the back of your neck and holds you in place as his tongue slips between your lips. You stay like this until your lungs scream at you and you push yourself back and gasp for air.
You’re about to lean in for another kiss when you notice Mihawk’s gaze quickly dart to the door. You’re confused for a second but soon a loud knocking bounces off the steel door.
“Doctor- status report?” One of the cadets yells through the door and you swear under your breath.
You stop your movements, hoping to catch your breath and sound somewhat put together but Mihawk has other ideas. The second you falter he grabs your hips and starts moving you up and down effortlessly and when you glare at him he only grins up at you.
Seems he still has the mental capacity to be an ass.
“We are-“ You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to stop a moan after a skillfully directed thrust. “We are quarantining until some of my tests are- are done processing.”
There’s a pause before the cadet responds. “Okay… are you alright? You’re not sick are you?”
When one of Mihawk’s hands leave your hips you know something is up and you’re able to bite down on your hand in time to stifle the moan that leaves your body when his skilled fingers find your clit. You’re so close to an orgasm but you fight it back just long enough to get this stupid cadet out of here.
“Quarantine this hallway until my further say- that’s an order!” You yell out and you hope and pray the cadet doesn’t hear the pleasure in your voice.
“Y-Yes!” The voice shouts back and you hope he’s running down the hall because you can’t take this anymore.
“What would your fellow Marines think?” Mihawk’s voice, cruel and playful, rings in your ears. “They’re precious doctor getting fucked stupid by a pirate- fuck you like that don’t you?”
You can only nod, overwhelmed by hick cock and fingers skillfully taking you apart.
“You’re squeezing me so tight- just- need you to cum all over my cock- you can do that can’t you? Cum for me-“ There’s a hint of desperation in his voice and his command breaks any last tethers you were using to hold off your orgasm snap.
Mihawk swears loudly as your walls convulse around him and it’s only seconds later he’s holding your hips down hard against his and spilling inside you. You lay your forehead on Mihawk’s shoulder as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Even after you catch your breath he’s still hard inside you and you know you’re not done yet.
“I just want to see- hold on.” Is the only warning you get before Mihawk is standing up.
Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips but his strong hands on your ass are more than enough to keep you up. He moves a few feet to the desk, setting you down on it and tapping your thigh once you’re settled. You get the idea and unlatch your legs, letting him slip out and away from you.
“Let me see.” Mihawk says as he pushes your knees apart, eyes transfixed between them. “Fuck.”
He watches as his cum leaks out of you, his fingers quickly scooping it up and shoving it back inside of you. In any other headspace you might think that was disgusting but the way he watches you and is claiming you makes it incredibly arousing. Once he’s satisfied he brings his fingers up to your mouth and you automatically take them between your lips, tasting the mix of your fluids.
“I’m- fuck- you’re perfect.” He seems reluctant to take his fingers from your mouth but the second both his hands are free he’s easily flipping you around and pushing your chest into the desk.
There’s no warning before he’s plunging into you again, your hips roughly meeting the edge of the wooden desk. You don’t really feel the pain amongst the pleasure, oversensitive from your previous orgasm. You feel open mouth kisses pepper your spine as he thrusts into you from behind. While one of his hands stays on your hips- your skin practically indented in the shape of his fingers there now- one reaches down to your thigh, giving it a squeeze before he pushes your leg upwards. The new angle is heavenly as you just let yourself be used- sliding forwards and backwards on the desk with each powerful thrust.
“Need you to- fuck darling I just need you to cum on me again- please I need to feel it-“ Mihawk sounds so desperate, a whine to his voice that he no longer can hide. “Just a little bit more for me-“
Your body seems to crave following his commands and another orgasm is ripped from your sensitive body. Only a few moments later you feel him cum inside you again, and you’re confident at this point he’s dripping out of you onto the floor.
“So good for me- taking all my cum-“ He’s breathless as he pulls out of you again and you don’t need to turn around to know he’s staring at your fucked out hole.
When he actually give you space for a minute you turn your head, still using the table to support your weight. “You feel better?”
“Hm…” His hand skates up your back, soothing you. “Feeling just sated enough to get you back to the room I’m staying in.”
The prospect of going more rounds was overwhelming but you can’t deny that you wanted it more than anything. One problem.
“If anyone sees me I think they’ll figure out some of what happened.” From your messed up hair, the bruises forming on your neck, and the fact that there’s no way you’ll be able to walk normally- yeah it’ll be obvious you were just fucked within an inch of your life.
“Oh doctor.” He pulls you up off the desk and places a surprisingly tender kiss on your forehead. “If anyone else sees you like this I’ll kill them.”
67 notes · View notes
jaeminri · 2 days
Text
15:07 ✿ lee heeseung ⁝ 1.2k words
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Heeseung stands at the gate of the school. his hands are tucked into his pockets as he shivers, his chin pushed into the deep warmth of his branded scarf and smoke comes out of his lips. It's freezing. Though the sun is out and it's shining painfully bright, casting shadows on everything, the weather is reaching below the positive range of temperature. But Heeseung waits.
Then when he hears the slightest bristle of sound coming from his right, he turns. And like a kid getting to enjoy his candy after dinner, Heeseung smiles the prettiest smile upon seeing you. He pulls his hands out of his expensive coat pocket and reaches one of it out to you.
In the gentlest way possible, Heeseung speaks, “You're here. Shall we go?”
His voice is void of annoyance or anger even though he waited for you for almost half an hour in this dying cold. He remains the sweet, patient him. When you don't walk towards him, he does it instead, then with no hesitation, pulls the scarf wrapped around his neck out and tugs it around you instead. “It's cold, you should be keeping warm,” he utters quietly, as if you don't aren't already. You don't fight him on it, and instead nod, grinning back grateful with tight lips.
Heeseung pinches your cheek gently, then slips his hands into yours, “Let's go.” He says, pulling you along with him. You find yourself doing so, as if it's natural to be there beside him and have your hands wrapped around his in the warmest way. Everything about Heeseung entrances you. You can't help going with the flow when it comes to him and you feel like you'd do anything he says.
You know you shouldn't, you know you can't, but you do it anyway.
“You're awfully quiet today,” he says.
“Am I?” You know you are, but you'll just play pretend for now.
“Mhm, everything okay?”
You nod, tightening your grip on his, forcing the best smile you can, “Of course. Just tired, y'know?” He nods. “But how was your day today? What'd you do?”
Heeseung ponders with a hum, then swiftly, he tugs you towards his side and lets go of your hand, then naturally, he swings an arm around your shoulder pulling you closer. “Not much, just the usual. But hey, my mom called me earlier at lunch.”
“Yeah? What'd she say?”
“She asked me to call you up for dinner tomorrow.”
That surprises you as you pull back in shock, “Me? Tomorrow? Your dad's okay with that?” Your reaction doesn't phase him at all, as he smoothly closes the gap and rests his head against yours. “Yeah, you. Tomorrow. And don't worry about my dad, I know he's mean and harsh, but we can simply ignore his presence.” He jokes with a laugh. You fake one in return.
You know you can't ignore him, especially with the way things had happened before, you know Heeseung's father absolutely despises you and your presence, but to Heeseung, what his father thinks doesn't and will never matter. And if this was some fairytale bullshit you'd agree but you can't — you can't be the reason Heeseung and his father are on bad terms.
“I'll tell my mom you'll be there. She'll be so happy, she loves you more than she loves me, I swear.” Heeseung says with a grin, “Come on, the bus is here.” You give a vague smile.
As usual, it's a pretty quiet ride, with the occasional pecks Heeseung gives against your hand in his. It feels warm now, and he is the reason for it. You fear the cold will get in between any time soon.
“Heeseung? Hey, man! It's been awhile, hasn't it?” An unfamiliar voice calls out. When you look up, it's a man with a wide smile, excited over bumping into your boyfriend on the bus. You glance over at the latter, and his eyes shine. "Jake! It's been awhile, yeah! How've you been?” Heeseung is giving off the same excitement, and it seems this Jake guy is an old friend of his.
Jake pats Heeseung's shoulder, “I've been good, bro. What about you?” He questions back, then with a gruff laugh, he continues, “Weird to see you on a bus, you used to have a driver to send you home everyday.” It's a harmless comment, something nostalgic for them to look back on, but when you look at your boyfriend, he's flushed red.
You wonder if he feels the same as you do.
“Nah man,” Heeseung brushes off the latter comment, “Just, you know, I've been good.”
“Oh that's nice. Well I would chat more, but this is my stop, so I gotta go. But let's catch up soon yeah?” Jake rushes off with a goodbye, and your eyes follow so until the bus continues its' journey then you look back at the man beside you. He's smiling to himself so you nudge him, “What's up?”
He shakes his head, like giddy, “Nothing. Just happy.”
You're not sure what he's talking about, but you chuckle, then you lean your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes. Whatever you want to say, you'll do it later.
It's as if time passes by in a blink, because the next thing you know, Heeseung taps you awake and tells you it's his stop and he needs to get off. He used to send you off to your house then route back to his place but after some time, you told him to just go back first, and he reluctantly agreed.
His stop comes in a few more seconds, but as he stands with his hand still linked with yours, you find yourself unable to let go. You don't know if you're ready, honestly. Heeseung giggles with tinted cheeks, “You're pretty clingy today. I think I like it a lot.” You wonder if he'll still like it when you tell him why later.
You follow him to the exit of the bus door, and he alights too quickly for your liking. He turns to face you on the outside, the door still open, and you know.
This. Is. It.
“Heeseung,” you begin softly. He hums, unknowing.
“I...”
There's not much time. It's now or never.
“Let's end this.” And then it's out. The door is beeping, it's going to close. Heeseung registers it a second slower as his smile drops and he goes, “What?”
The beep increases louder and faster and you push the words out of your mouth as the doors begin to come to a close.
“I'm breaking up with you.”
And then. Silence.
The door closes, and you're left on the bus in the chilly emptiness and Heeseung stands on the other side, still. He's looking at you, even as the bus drives off.
Your eyes burn as you drop into the nearest seat and then everything rushes out like a waterfall. You sob into your hands, glancing up for a moment to look behind, and you see Heeseung running. It's no use, he can't outrun a bus, but the look of desperation on his face completely shatters your heart into pieces you don't think can be pieced together ever again.
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© JAEMINRI, 2024
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lynzishell · 10 hours
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OC Deep Dive Questionnaire 💛Atlas & Asher🩵
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✨TYSM for the tag @raiiny-bay, @zosa95, @dandylion240, @sirianasims, and @hannahssimblr 🤗💖
Of course, I went overboard with this, so grab your favorite beverage and let's dive right in, shall we? ☕💕
-what common/uncommon fear do they have?
💛Atlas: [Pointing to Asher] Water. 🩵Asher: You can’t just leave it at that. It’s not like if you set a glass of water on the table, I’ll run screaming. I have a fear of drowning, so I don’t like to be submerged in water. You’re never going to catch me out swimming. Probably not on a boat either, while we’re at it. Not taking any chances. 💛Atlas: Fair enough. But you won’t even put your face under the water in the shower. 🩵Asher: That’s because it reminds me of being submerged in water. Anyway, this conversation is making me sweaty, and there just happens to be water on the other side of this fence, so let's change the subject. Next question.
-do they have any pet peeves?
🩵Asher: Oh, Atlas fuckin’ hates mindless small talk, like the kind you use just to fill the silence, or because you awkwardly feel like you need to talk to the person next to you. Seriously, he’ll like you a lot more if you just sit next to him in silence for an hour. 💛Atlas:  Very true. And yet, your record for silence is, what, twenty minutes?  🩵Asher: Maybe. But I don’t make mindless small talk. 💛Atlas: Yeah, I do like listening to you ramble on about your latest obsessions. You get all animated and excited, it’s really cute. 🩵Asher: You’re really cute.
-what are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?
💛Atlas: Uh, I don’t know, what’s in our room besides the obvious? Probably too many electronics. 🩵Asher: Right, between the computer and the switch and my drawing tablet and our phones... 💛Atlas: And your sketchbooks and pencils. How many pencils does someone need? 🩵Asher: I don’t have enough; I’ll tell you that much. Count yourself lucky that most of my art supplies are scattered between Lex’s place and my parents’ house. One day I’ll get it all organized in one place, but that day is not today.
-what do they notice first in a person?
🩵Asher: Hm. That's a good question. What did you notice about me first? 💛Atlas: Your hair, obviously. 🩵Asher: [laughs] 💛Atlas: But no, I would say your eyes. I’d never met anyone with such pure gray eyes before, they’re striking. Your eyes are very expressive too. And you make eye contact with people more than anyone else I know. Like, whenever I talk to you, I always feel like you’re really listening. 🩵Asher: [smiles] I am.
-on a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?
🩵Asher: Oh god, mine is probably like a 5, and Atlas’s is probably a fuckin’ 8 or 9. 💛Atlas: I would’ve said 7, but we can go with 8.
-do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?
💛Atlas: I think my first instinct is freeze, but then probably flight. Depending on the situation, I’ll walk away or hide away. 🩵Asher: Mostly. But with James, you definitely went to fight. 💛Atlas: That was different. I don’t care if people hurt me, but I’m not going to let them hurt the people I love. Ash is definitely more of a fighter than I am.  
-do they come from a big family/are they a family person?
🩵Asher: I don’t come from a big family, it’s just my parents, me, my sister, and my niece, but we are very close. But honestly, family isn’t just about relatives. Chosen family is just as important. When I say my family is the most important thing to me, I don’t just mean them, I also mean Atlas and Lex and Dawn and Phoenix and Aspen too. And Jasper, obviously. 💛Atlas: Exactly. If we’re talking about relatives, I come from a very large family, but I will never see or speak to any of them again, except for Dawn, of course. A few years ago, I never would’ve considered myself a family person, but Ash’s family taking me in changed all that. I’d definitely say I am now. 🩵Asher: I love that.
-what animal represents them best?
💛Atlas: Oh, that’s easy. Ash is just like Jasper, his border collie. Playful and energetic, friendly, intelligent, hardworking, and he loves to snuggle. 🩵Asher: Hm. I think for Atlas, I’d say a deer. 💛Atlas: A deer? 🩵Asher: Yeah, like, you’re quiet and cautious, a bit anxious with a tendency to hide, but you’re also beautiful and sweet. 💛Atlas: You make me sound more like a bunny. 🩵Asher: No, definitely not a bunny. Have you ever come upon a big buck deer? They’re majestic and intimidating, and they’ll kick your ass if they have to. They’re… survivors.
-what is a smell that they dislike?
💛Atlas: Ammonia. 🩵Asher: No one likes the smell of ammonia. 💛Atlas: I know, but when I was a kid, at the end of every school year, we’d have to clean our desks with this ammonia spray. Twenty kids spraying ammonia in an enclosed room. It was awful. I’m sure they had the windows open, but even still, that smell is seared into my brain, makes me want to gag just thinking of it.
-have they broken any bones? if so, how?
🩵Asher: Okay, story time! So, when I was ten? Eleven? Something like that. Anyway, I was dancing around in my room, as one does, and I tripped on a book, one of many scattered around my disaster of a room, and tried to catch myself as I went down. Bad decision. I’ll spare you the details, but the pain I felt in my wrist was horrible. I literally saw stars. And then I almost puked when I looked at it. So, of course, I started screaming for my mom. She came running in, and I told her that I’d broken my wrist. And what did she do? She yanked on it and snapped it back into place! Because apparently, I’d just dislocated it. But, fuck, it hurt. If a broken bone is worse than that, then I hope I never break one. 💛Atlas: I broke a toe once. Stubbed it on the corner of my bed when I was in college. I wasn’t good about taping it up or anything either, so it healed a little crooked.
-how would a stranger likely describe them?
🩵Asher: For Atlas? One word: quiet. How they interpret that quietness varies though. Some people think he’s really shy, others think he’s just aloof. But he’s actually neither. He’s introverted and pensive, sure, but he’s also very warm and enjoys chatting with people if it’s a more meaningful conversation, y’know. Like, when we first met, we would talk for hours and hours. 💛Atlas: That’s true, but you’re such an easy person to talk to. I think that’s what people would say about Ash. He’s just very relaxed and friendly and has a way of putting people at ease. He’s good at connecting with people and getting them talking and making them laugh.  
-are they a night owl or a morning bird?
🩵Asher: Probably night owls, I’d say. Atlas prefers starting his day later and working late, if he has the option. 💛Atlas: Yeah, but these days, it feels like I’m working all the time. But even still, Ash starts his day earlier. I don’t know. I think he’s somehow both. He has no issues with mornings, but he also gets a burst of energy in the evening and sometimes it’s hard to get him to come to bed. 🩵Asher: To sleep, anyway. 💛Atlas: [laughs] Right.
-what is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?
💛Atlas: Ah, Ash hates vinegar and anything pickled. And he loves warm spices like cinnamon and cardamom. 🩵Asher: Oh my god, and Atlas is fuckin’ backwards when it comes to this. He likes bitter flavors to a strange degree, like super bitter beer and strong coffee and he’ll only eat chocolate if it’s the super dark stuff, otherwise he hates it. He doesn’t like sweets. No sugary drinks or candy or even pastries.
-do they have any hobbies?
🩵Asher: We both love gaming and dancing. Otherwise, I like to draw and spend time with my dog. My favorite is taking him down to the beach to play fetch, he loves it there. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and I don’t know, I like to stay active because I feel like I’m constantly at a desk otherwise. I used to rock climb a lot, but since we climbed Mt. Komorebi, we took a break and never really got back to it, so I pretty much just run and work out at the gym occasionally. And I like to sing. 🩵Asher: Seriously, I wish you could hear him. He has the most incredible voice. 💛Atlas: Aw, thank you.
-boom, surprise birthday party! how do they react to surprises?
💛Atlas: Ash would love it! He’d be so stoked that everyone showed up for him like that. 🩵Asher: And Atlas would probably dump me on the spot if I ever did that to him. 💛Atlas: I don’t know if I’d dump you, but… okay, yeah, I probably would.
-do they like to wear jewelry? if so, what is their favorite piece?
🩵Asher: I don’t think I’ve ever seen Atlas wear any jewelry. 💛Atlas: No, I’ve tried, but I could never get used to it. I’d always end up taking it off by midday. 🩵Asher: I can see that. I wear earrings, but that’s it. I used to wear a necklace that an ex gave me, but I threw it out when we broke up. I wanted to throw it into the ocean, but I didn’t dare to walk out on the dock [laughs] so I tossed it in a dumpster instead. 💛Atlas: I didn’t know that. Which ex? 🩵Asher: Elias. 💛Atlas: Ahh. Yikes. 🩵Asher: Yeah. Anyway. Next question.
-do they have neat or messy handwriting?
💛Atlas: I think we both write fairly neat. 🩵Asher: I think so too. Yours is all sharp angles, but it’s not sloppy. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and you have a strong preference for uppercase letters. Sometimes it’s rushed, but it’s never messy. Actually, I’ve never thought about it before, but I really like your handwriting. 🩵Asher: I like yours too.
-what are two emotions they feel the most?
🩵Asher: [points to Atlas] Anxious. 💛Atlas: All of the time. 🩵Asher: And, hm, we can only pick two? I’d probably go with either introspective or focused. 💛Atlas: That’s probably right. For you, I’d say, passionate or inspired and then maybe playful or energetic or something like that. Okay yeah, passionate and playful.
-do they have a favorite fabric?
💛Atlas: Probably cotton, I guess. 🩵Asher: Yeah, same. I don't know. Never really thought about it, to be honest.
-what kind of accent do they have?
🩵Asher: I don’t know. Do we have accents? I mean, I guess Atlas gets a hint of a drawl when he drinks, it’s pretty cute. 💛Atlas: I do not. 🩵Asher: You do! I never told you because I didn’t want you to get self-conscious and try to stop. 💛Atlas: It’s a good thing I don’t drink often, I guess. 🩵Asher: Whatever. I love it. 💛Atlas: And I love you. 🩵Asher: I love you too.
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And I love them too!! 🥹
Okay, whew! What are the chances anyone actually read all that? I really can't just be normal about these things, can I? Oh well... Now it's your turn!! I'm gonna tag @madebysimblr, @crownsofesha, @xldkx, @honeyjars-sims, aaaaaaaaaaand @igotsnothing 🤸🏻‍♀️💖 Answer them normally, or have a little fun with it, or ignore me completely, that's fine too (no it's not) 🫶🏻
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prettyboykatsuki · 22 hours
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✮ tags ; gn!reader, sock(?) fetish...? it's like foot fetish adjacent i guess and but she is wearing frilly socks, dirty talk, established relationship, implicit nsfw but nothing happens, 18+
✮ wc ; 1.4k (WTF LOL)
✮ a/n ; don't mind me. going through something. this is miserably self-indulgent but it's ochako so i figured you've guessed that
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Ochako would never applaud your subtlety.
If she's playing devils advocate, she'd say that you're not usually trying to be very subtle anyway. Between the two of you, she's the shy one. Most of your firsts have been as a result of your personality - sufficiently anti-social but smug and forthcoming when you need to be.
She was the one to coax you into actually asking her out, since you weren't sure she'd be happy with someone like you. But the confessing and kissing and having sex are all a result of your brusque honesty and inability to keep your thoughts to yourself.
Usually, if there's something you want, you'll just ask her. She'll get on your case out of embarrassment often enough - but she loves you and she loves being praised. If there's some particularly perverted fantasy you want to act out with her, well... she can do it with a little bribing.
You're not much for hints, but you are good at hiding things. Usually. You managed to plan an anniversary trip completely in advance even with her hectic hero schedule which is something to be commended.
But it's rare, in any case, to see you be uncertain about something. It's not like you just stare at her and not say anything. She'll challenge you about that tendency often and you always smirk so sly and say what you think.
She's never really seen you act like this. She doesn't know what to make of it.
She thinks she would've known by now if you had some kind of foot fetish at least.
You've been staring at her legs all day to start with, but she noticed about an hour ago that your eyes kept drifting to her feet. You've had sex enough times for her to know what you like and you've never really shown any special appreciation towards them other than a kiss or rub. It's tender and intimate, but it doesn't feel rooted in the lust of a fetish.
It's the fifth or sixth time in the last hour you've looked over the edge of your laptop screen and traced her legs. It's hard to notice when you've been doing it so often.
"What are you staring so hard at?"
You startle at the confrontation, even though you weren't engrossed in your work. It's subtle, your eyes widening just a touch before going back to the screen unfocused.
"Uh," You sound...awkward. And a little nervous. It's a little unusual for her, since you're a difficult person to truly embarrass. "Nothing really."
She pouts at you. "You're a bad liar. You've looked at me so many times today. At my feet," She says, leaning back on the couch with her legs completely spread. You do it again and look away just as quickly. "Did you gain a foot fetish over night?"
When you don't respond right way, her eyes open wide. She looks at you as you turn your head - suddenly sheepish. "...Did you really?"
You shake your head, trying to find the words to explain. You open your mouth only to close it again, rubbing your temple as if finding the words is stressing you out.
Now she's really confused.
"It's not a foot fetish, necessarily? It has to do with," You swallow something in the back of your throat. "...with what you're wearing. I guess?"
"What I'm wearing?" She looks down her legs and looks at the socks she's wearing - brand new and frilly. All white lace bunched at the cuff and white cotton down to the toes with a little pink bow on the back, She lifts her legs up and points her foot out. "These?"
Your face flushes like a deer caught in headlights and Ochako feels herself jolt in surprise before a smile breaks out on her face. It's hard to hold in her laughter, though she's not laughing at you as much as she is your reaction.
"Don't laugh at me,"
"I'm not, I'm not," She assures, giggling to herself. "It's just... of all the perverted stuff you ask me to do, this is what gets you?"
You cover your face partially with your hand, forcing yourself not to look down or around. "It's a little weird even for me."
She hums. "I don't think it's weird," Slowly, she pulls her knees up close to her chest, arms hugging her legs glancing down at her feet "I'm just not sure what you like about it."
You stare again, at her legs then at her feet. You're a distance away but you scoot in a little closer - your hands reaching out just far enough to touch the frill around the cuff. Your eyes go lidded, pressing the lacy material between your fingers.
"It's pretty." You say first. There's a shift in the air that makes her breath hitch though you haven't said or implied anything lewd at all. Really haven't touched her either, which makes her blush. You have the effect on her, or something. "It's girly and cute and looks nice on you. Plus you have toned legs so it suits you. I like the way they match with your pajamas, too."
The sudden wave of praise makes Ochako shiver. She buries her face in her arms, frowning - skin prickling with heat. "Jeez. You're so simple."
She moves herself. Instead of her seat opposite the couch, she crawls down to where you sit on the floor and pushes the coffee table away from you. Barely glancing at your laptop, she shuts it and sits in front of you instead - occupying the space between you suddenly. You glance at her, surprised, before laugh again.
She leans back on her palms, pulling her legs up and placing both of her socked feet on your chest. Her back is supported only by the sturdy chestnut table she moved out of the way to sit. Your hand rests on her calves - right where her ankle extends. Your thumb rubs the bare skin. Her face grows hotter, air thick with tension.
"You have more to say, right?" A bid for attention. You nod your head. "Then say it,"
"It's kind of dirty," You hum. Ochako can feel her heart rate start to tick up as your hand slides down to be over the tops of her feet. You look down at where she's placed them on your chest so affectionately she can already feel the dull pulse start between her legs. "But I always think about what they look like when they're the last things left on you."
She makes a face at you. You crook your neck to kiss just the outside, right at the toe of her socks. It makes her blush more than she expects and that makes you laugh. Your voice is thick, genuine desire making her want to keen a little. She wants you spoil her, but you already know that.
"Like," You pretend to think, locking eyes with her. She doesn't know if she could get more red, but she feels she does. "If I were to strip you down to everything but these, that'd look really lewd right? It's like that."
"Is that what you want to do?"
You nod at her easily. "Seeing you bent over the side of the couch , on the tips of your toes. Or maybe laying on your stomach with your legs up so I can fuck you more properly. It's a nice image, I thought."
She pouts at you, almost perpetually - shoving a foot against your cheek as she does. You laugh at her as she does.
"You're such a pervert."
"Sorry." Your voice is warm and tender but not really all that apologetic. She huffs, turning your head to one side.
"It can't be helped, then." She says, one eyes closed and cheeky. You laugh at her good-naturedly.
"What a good girl you are, Ochako-chan,"
She feels her heart flutter, positioning herself to sit on her knees so she can kiss you. Her hands support her in front, arms wrapped around your neck as she flutters her lashes. "The best?"
You hum, pressing a hot kiss to her jaw. "The best. Let me see more of you, okay?"
"Okay," She huffs, a little annoyed by how easy she is. "I don't mind keeping the socks on."
"Good girl." You praise again, throaty and just barely thick. "My very good girl."
Ochako doesn't mind your lack of subtlety, she thinks. The throbbing between her legs is enough to prove she likes when you're very, very forward.
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reccyls · 2 days
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Surprise Bag 2024 Story (Prologue)
The April Fool's story from 2024. This is only the prologue, as the continuations are sold as story sales that I will not be purchasing. I do still think it is very funny, though.
The premise is a bodyswap, Ellis <> Jude and Elbert <> Alfons
Ever since I became a Fairytale Keeper, I like to think that my tolerance for the extraordinary has increased.
However, this latest happening in Crown far surpassed anything I had ever experienced.
"Jude": Good morning, Miss Kate. I'll make you happy today too.
Kate: ...Jude, did you... hit your head on something?
"Jude": Hm? Nope, I'm perfectly fine. Haven't hit my head on anything.
Kate: What happened to your usual terrible attitude?! Did you catch a cold? Are you injured? We have to go to the hospital now--
"Ellis": Tch, the hell is this?
"Jude": Ah, Jude. "Jude": Huh? Jude, why are you me?
"Ellis": I should be the one asking. Why the hell are you me?
Kate: Wha? Huh??
"Elbert": Ahha! Something terribly amusing seems to have happened, hasn't it?
Kate: Alf- Eh, Lord Elbert? Kate: Wait, so then is that 'Alfons' standing behind you...?
"Alfons": ...When I looked in the mirror, I became Al.
"Elbert": Being able to look at oneself from the point of view of an outsider truly is fascinating. "Elbert": Oh yes, El. Do speak more energetically. It's unsettling to hear myeslf sound so glum.
"Alfons": ...More energetically? ...I'll, try... "Alfons": ........Ahha.
"Elbert": I suppose that's my mistake for asking you to be more energetic.
Kate: Wait, just hold on a second. So what's happened is... Kate: ...Jude and Ellis, and then Lord Elbert and Alfons have swapped bodies!? Kate: What kind of ridiculous situation is this...!?
"Ellis": It's that goddamn doctor bastard's fault. I'll kill him.
---
Gathering the remainder of Crown, we questioned Roger about the circumstances. He let out an unrestrained laugh.
Roger: My bad, my bad. Who'd ever think that the results would pay off this quickly? Aren't I a genius?
Victor: Now's not the time, Roger! What did you do to cause this adorable- excuse me, very troubling situation?
Liam: Victor, you're not hiding your true feelings very well. Your words and face don't match at all.
Roger: I had the thought of swapping a cursed person with a normal person. That could lead to the curse transferring, couldn't it? So I was doing some research.
William: Your unquenchable thirst for knowledge is admirable indeed. But if that were the case, shouldn't you be experimenting with a cursed person and a normal human?
Roger: It'd be pretty dangerous for us if something went wrong while I was experimenting on a normal person, wouldn't it? I thought I'd test things out on these guys first.
Harrison: Just what do you think we are? We die just as easy as normal people, you know.
"Elbert": Let's toss that musclehead four-eyes into the Thames.
"Ellis": Yeah. Fix some stone weights to him and it'll be over quick.
Kate: Stop, stop! Don't say things like that wearing Elbert and Ellis's faces!
"Jude": But that's pretty amazing, Roger. I never thought that medicine like this could exist.
Liam: ...Jude being all soft is- nope, that's just weird!
Roger: Don't worry so much. Once I've collected enough data from you lot, I'll whip up an antidote. Roger: ........Once I've got an antidote, I can start testing on the others.
Harrison: ...You just said something awful, didn't you?
Roger: Don't know what you're talking about.
"Elbert": You're acting like you're in any position to bargain about turning us back? Pardon my French, but go die.
Harrison: Yikes... Uh, Liam? Hey, Liam, hey. Did he fall asleep?
"Jude": Sorry, I touched his head. I was curious about whether I could use Jude's power or not.
Roger: Huh, so the ability stays with the body. I really am a genius after all, aren't I?
(This isn't helping anymore...!)
Kate: A-anyway! Please make that antidote as soon as possible, Roger! Kate: ...Geez. What are we going to do if Her Majesty hears about this?
Roger: Well, I might end up getting fired... Roger: ...So it's up to you to watch over the lot of them to make sure nobody else finds out about this, little lady.
Kate: Huh? ...Roger? Wait!
"Ellis": Tch... Fuck it. Let him get kicked out.
"Jude": Ah, Jude, my body isn't used to--
"Ellis": *cough, cough*... Ellis. First thing we're doing is to start training so you can at least handle one cigar.
"Elbert": Hmm... with a face like this, I could get away with doing pretty much anything, don't you think?
"Alfons": ...Kate, is this spoon beautiful?
Kate: M-my poor sanity...!
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creepedverse · 2 days
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hauntedhappeningsfarnbury.com/forums/13666
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RedHero: Hey guys! I’ve been passing by that antique store on Dahlia Ave on my way to work recently and I keep seeing this doll in the display. I have like… soooo many questions. I swear every time I pass by I feel like she’s… aware? Of me? I probably sound crazy! I know! But every time I pass by I just get the heebie jeebies!!! I figured this forum would be the best place to ask… what do you guys think is going on? Am I just being paranoid? Lololol
GhostlyAmity: Oh that fucking doll… I’ve heard some things about her. But, even as a believer in the paranormal, I have a hard time believing them. I’ve heard everything from she’s SEVERELY possessed to she’s just creepy looking. In my opinion, it’s the latter. Some stories I’ve heard just sound completely impossible, so for your own peace of mind, just assume it’s your human instinct, uncanny valley feelings creeping you out and carry on with your day.
SomethingUNseen: Dude you should tooooootally buy that doll! What’s the worst that could happen LOLOLOL XD
-> RedHero reply to GhostlyAmity: What stories have you heard about her? Even if you don’t believe them, I’m still curious about what people have said. And do you know what kind of doll she is? Why does she look so… lifelike like that?
-> GhostlyAmity reply to RedHero: Just from word of mouth, I’ve heard she’s been the cause of multiple heart attacks for the old folks that take her in, people have claimed they see her moving and the like. But then there’s also the incident that happened a few years back… Either way, the reason you’re actually getting creeped out is because it’s a mourning doll. Back in the 1800s, parents of dead children would make dolls that resembled their passed loved ones and keep those around like they were still alive. Usually this was done for newborns/babies, but I guess whoever the doll was made of was a special case.
-> RedHero reply to GhostlyAmity: GEEZ! They can sell something like that in an antique store!?
-> GraveMisstake reply to RedHero: As long as it was donated, and like… cleaned properly… it’s fair game? Yeah it feels weird, but people donate teddy bears with ashes in them all the time so, this isn’t out of the realm of possibility lol
-> RedHero reply to GraveMisstake: I guess… So that’s why she’s so… detailed? Also do you know what the ‘incident’ was? Is that something I should know about?
-> GhostlyAmity reply to RedHero: I’ll tell you about it, but it really isn’t connected to the doll.
GhostlyAmity: Basically, a few years back three teenagers were found dead in the forest, off the waterfall if you know where that is. They had tons of alcohol in their system and it was deemed a complete accident. They probably just wanted to go swimming and were too uncoordinated to actually, ya know, swim.
-> RedHero reply to GhostlyAmity: You’re right that doesn’t sound connected at all… How do people pin that on a doll?
-> GhostlyAmity reply to RedHero: Apparently, some people in town said they saw them carrying the doll around in their drunken stupor. And then when their bodies were found, there was no trace of her.
GhostlyAmity: Actually, she hadn’t been in the store for a long time after that. I’ve just seen her in there more recently. The store owners probably didn’t want people looking for her after a rumor like that comes out. Bad for business, in my opinion. So they probably kept her in the back or something.
-> RedHero reply to GhostlyAmity: Huh… Yeah that’s weird. Anyways, thanks for the info! Curiosity was just getting the better of me today when I passed by her again! Now that I know some lore, she doesn’t seem too daunting anymore lolol!!!
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hiemaldesirae · 21 hours
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Okay, so everyone is all cursed cat Alastor *hates* Vox...but what if It absolutely ADORES Vox? What if it's just like Alastor's Shadow, and it holds ALL of the emotions Alastor won't show? So it's ALL over Vox? Vox can't get a moment alone, cursed cat!Alastor is ALWAYS with him. Following him, loving on him. Only allows Vox to pet him...attacks regular Alastor when he attacks Vox, actually *defeating him.* (Alastor hates that Cat. And is ridiculously jealous.)
oh i endorse this 100%. i wrote a little snippet for it even LMFAO
it gets a tad long so ill leave it under the cut. it is mostly word vomit but . you know.. hopefully u guys enjoy :)
"We should really consider just putting the poor thing out of its misery," Alastor shoots a glare at the curled up lump on the carpet, its foaming mouth bound with rope, even as it chews furiously at its restraints. "Why, if we didn't, we would be violating our own 'no pets' policy!"
"Alastor..." Charlie frowns at her hotelier, before chancing a hesitant glance back at the creature. "Look, no one's perfect, right? Can't we try giving the cat a chance, at least?"
The other residents in the room- Angel, Husk, Vaggie, and even Lucifer himself- all give her blank eyed stares, Angel and Husk in particular rolling up their sleeves to show off the long, deep gouges in their arms.
"Charlie, honey, I think I speak for everyone here when I say you should just let Alastor get rid of it," Vaggie grimaces. "I know you love animals and all, but that- *thing* isn't safe to be around."
"What? Come on, it's sweet!" Charlie turns around, her back to the creature as she motions to it, completely unawares of the furry animal finally chewing through the final bit of rope as it lunges for her, much to the horror of the other hotel inhabitants.
An hour later, Alastor finds himself and his shadow traversing the streets of Pentagram City with the creature held securely in his shadow's grip. "Hmm... so, then, where should we dispose of this little pest? Ah, I have an idea."
He snaps his fingers and in a moment, reappears in a cloud of black, smokey shadow- right in front of the Vee's tower. With a swift motion to his shadow attendant, his doppelganger releases the cat-like creature from its claws, the feral little creature immediately charging the doors of the tower once it's let free. Alastor barely manages to hold back a snort before he once more steps back into the shadows- tomorrow, he'd check back again and see how it was going for Vox. With any luck, the results would be entertaining.
Vox gets the notification in the middle of a meeting. It takes merely the wave of his hand to dismiss the investors and step out, rolling his eyes as he prepares to deal with Val or Vel's shit again for the twentieth time today.
"What is it now...?" He frowns down at his phone, before noticing his assistant's contact on the phone. "Dei? What is it? Did something happen to Lis?"
"Uh, no, it's not anything like that, Sir," the aquatic sinner responds nervously. "Though, um... well, we have a little bit of an emergency, kind of. Not... really, since it's mostly under control now, but we lost a few employees in the scuffle--"
"Just tell me what happened," Vox heaves a long suffering sigh as he presses a claw to his screen, ready to send out apology gift baskets to HR again.
"Um. Well, there is a... Populis calls it a cat, but I'm quite sure it's not any sort of 'typical' animal at all, especially since it has antlers and a monocle... anyway. There's this... *creature* just kind of running around on the main floor, and it took out about five workers before Baxter managed to subdue it."
Vox blinks once, then twice, and then sighs again. "I swear to fucking God- okay, go and contact HR so they can get you all tested for rabies or whatever the fuck it is down in Hell, and I'll come to deal with the fucking cat thing."
"Yes, sir," Dei replies dutifully before the line goes dead. Vox groans before schooling himself and his expression and disappearing into a flash and electric current, teleporting all the way down to the first floor of the Vee's tower.
"S-sir!" Papermint comes running toward him first, looking worried. "Um... so, uh, when Dei went to get the cat creature, it sort of attacked him too--"
"For fucks sake, do none of you know how to do your job properly?" Vox pinches his screen again, thoroughly done. It was fucking Tuesday and he was already hoping for the end of the week. Get rich and famous, they told you. It'll be fun, they told you. Fun his fucking ass-- he has to spend his morning sitting through investment meetings and now, having to deal with a rabid Hell animal and the fact that it was mowing down his workers like some sort of demented lawnmower. Fucking great, just what he needed.
He stomps into the main hallway with the little eel sinner trailing awkwardly behind him, eyes widening in surprise as he takes in the scene before him.
On the ground, his main assistants Dei and Populis grapple with a tiny red animal.
It... looks somewhat like a cat, if a cat had an unholy union with whatever kind of deer Alastor was. And it also had a monocle, and was foaming at the mouth (yeah, definitely rabies), while his tech administrator Baxter stood to the side and watched with a bucketful of popcorn in hand. Logi, possibly the only normal sinner he had under his employment, was trying her damnednest to pull the cat- who, by the way, was winning the fight with BOTH his assistants- off of Dei, whose ear was currently in its mouth.
"I really need a drink," Vox groans before he rolls his sleeves up and walks forwards into the fray, the air around him crackling with static electricity as he intends to separate the fighters, whether with force or not- but to his surprise, he doesn't need to use any force at all.
Instead, when the little cat creature sees him, its eyes light up before it lets go of Dei's ear, the manta ray sinner letting out a groan of relief before collapsing onto the floor, the other assistants rushing to help him up. The cat, on the other hand, leaps up at Vox, who instinctively catches it in his arms. It purrs as it rubs against him, seemingly no longer hostile towards any of the other sinners in the room.
Vox stares down at the cat. It stares up at him, then grins.
It's... kind of cute, actually. In a really weird, freaky way.
"Uh... boss?" Baxter raises an eyebrow as he looks at the cat held securely in Vox's arms, then at the gaggle of sinners trying to make sure that Dei doesn't bleed out. "You gonna help, or...?"
Vox rolls his eyes before he sends a bolt of electricity over at the sinner and burns the bite, effectively cauterizing and closing the wound. "I'll have HR deal with it and get Dei a week's worth of paid recovery. Any more than that and I'm not covering it. You guys just get back to work after the cleanup crew comes, got it?"
He sighs down at the creature in his arms as he walks out of the main lobby, frowning to himself. "What am I going to do with you...? I've got a fitting with Dorian later, and he's *definitely* not gonna allow you in... and what the hell do you even eat, anyway? Better not be my workers- and oh dear god, I've got Vark, too, I can't believe I forgot about him-"
Still, even as he grumbles to himself, Vox can't help but recognize the truth: no matter what difficulties this little shit brings him, he's definitely keeping it.
A week's worth of time passes before Alastor finally finds some free time to go off and take a look at how his *esteemed* rival has been doing. He's half expecting half the Entertainment District to be destroyed by the time he returns, but there's nothing of the sort. In fact, business seems to be going about as usual... but then again, this may be one more of the TV demon's methods of avoidance. Vox *was* always a good actor, after all-- even if his own life was falling apart, he would never let that show.
So with that reassurance settled in himself, Alastor decides to take a risky move and get in closer range to his target- he slips into the shadows surrounding the crowd of reporters gathering around the ground floor of the Vee's Tower, clamouring for the chance to see the Media Overlord in the flesh.
Strangely, they all seem more chatty today-- Alastor didn't recall any sort of holiday being today, so it seemed that there was more information to be heard... and *that* was surprising, the revelation that something interesting may have happened while he was gone. Was it perhaps because of the hellspawn he'd dropped off a week earlier?
His question is answered not even a moment later, when Vox steps out of the doors, a confident grin on his face and a small, hissing red creature draped around his neck like a scarf.
Alastor's eye twitches.
Did he *keep* the damned thing? And why the *fuck* was he absentmindedly petting its fucking ears?! *That should have been him!*
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anincompletelist · 3 hours
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sunday sentences :D
hi all! apologies on being so behind on the tags and games and everything lately, i have needed to put forth the mental energy into other life things recently jsksjksj but i see all of them and i appreciate them so much!!!!
thank you especially to those of you who tagged me today: @kiwiana-writes @bigassbowlingballhead @lfg1986-2 @sophie1973
@ninzied @cricketnationrise @onthewaytosomewhere @thedramasummer <3333
i’m ridiculously excited about this wip but this will be probably all that i ever share from it until it’s posted because it’s my baby <33
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Henry shifts in his seat. Crosses and re-crosses his ankles, expels a sigh. There’s a shuffling somewhere behind him even though most of the cabin is asleep by this point, and Henry knows what’s coming before it happens, hates the way his heart still skips several beats anyway.
A sea of dark curls. Warm, kind eyes. A slanted, smiling mouth, a dimple carved into the side. One hand holding a tall, steaming coffee, the other a mug full of Henry’s favorite tea. A whisper, a brush of fingertips in the trade off. The more important details.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
It’d be something out of Henry’s most treasured fantasies if he didn’t already know they’d be the last words this man ever says.
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OPEN TAG AS ALWAYS and also @firenati0n @nocoastposts @wordsofhoneydew @hgejfmw-hgejhsf
@daisymae-12 @affectionatelyrs @happiness-of-the-pursuit @read-and-write-
@cha-melodius @heysweetheart-writes @iboatedhere @rmd-writes
@getmehighonmagic @magicandarchery @eusuntgratie @whimsymanaged
@junebugclaremontdiaz @futureseaempress @captainjunglegym @inexplicablymine
xx
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saras-almanac · 24 hours
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BuckTommyWeekend Day 2: A figure from their past
BuckTommyWeekend Day 2: A figure from their past
Title:  What we have
Fandom:  911 (ABC)
Pairing:  Buck/Tommy
Summary:  Buck had complicated feelings after they run into Abby. Luckily, Tommy is there to comfort him. For the prompt: A figure from their past for @bucktommyweek
Notes: I have a lot of thoughts about Abby and her relationship with Buck (plus just thoughts on her character in general). And this is a part of something much longer I’d written but it was just bits and pieces—the meeting, the aftermath, Tommy talking with Athena or Maddie, this scene—just too much going on and too much to write in a day when my brain was still coming up with the actual idea for this. So this is what I’ve got.  
Tommy hadn’t thought much of this meeting Abby at the time. Apparently she was in town for some meeting or other for one of her stepdaughters and him and Evan had happened to run into her as they were leaving the restaurant they had brunch at.
Evan had gotten a bit quiet but smiled and politely introduced him as “This is Tommy,” before Abby started telling him about her life. It was about three minutes of a quick catch up before Evan and him continued on their way out and honestly, Tommy hadn’t thought it was strange.
But now It’s been over a week since he’d last seen Evan and he was trying not to worry or get caught up in his own head about what this all might mean. He was off today, so maybe Tommy could convince him to meet up for lunch or at least just talk later today.
Thankfully the doorbell rang at that moment, pulling Tommy out of his potential spiral.
He opened the door and there stood Evan, holding two coffees and a bag of food.
“I brought coffee and burritos,” Evan said.
Tommy ushered him in and followed him to the kitchen. “It’s been a minute. But I’m happy to see you.”
“Me too.” Evan set everything on the counter, dropping his duffel on the floor, and then turned to him, basically wrapping himself around Tommy.
“Is everything all right?”” Tommy asked.
“Yes,” Evan said. “I mean, it’s getting there?”
“Would you want to tell me about what you’re thinking about?” Tommy asked, pulling away and gently pushing Evan toward the stool by his counter. “While you eat a little something.”
Evan sat down but made no move toward his food. He sighed. “I told you about Abby. My ex. The one we ran into a couple weeks ago.”
Tommy nodded. “Yeah. I mean, a little.”
“Right, well seeing her sort of threw me off—Not because I’m dating you or freaking out about my bisexuality and stuff,” Evan rushed to reassure him. “It just… I guess it just brought a lot of old feelings, things that trigged some old insecurities. And I wasn’t expecting it. I mean, it’s been years and looking back, it’s not even like we were really together together so I don��t know really what happened.”
“Feelings can be surprising,” Tommy said. “They come back around in the strangest ways sometimes.”
“Yeah,” Evan said. “But I don’t even think about her anymore. I don’t. I’m not like in love with her or want her back or anything--I swear.”
“I didn’t think you did, but thank you for the reassurance,” Tommy said. “Seeing people who used to play a big part in our lives brings up a lot of emotions. And that’s okay.”  
“That’s what Dr. Copeland said too,” Evan said shaking his head. “I called her because it just triggered a lot of feelings, feelings of insecurity that I thought I’d dealt with. But when you come face-to-face with your biggest failure those feelings can come back.”
“You and Abby not working out is not a failure,” Tommy said.
“I know that. Now,” Evan said. “But it’s what happened when I saw her again. It was my first relationship where I did everything right. I followed everyone’s advice, everyone’s ideas, followed Abby’s lead. I did everything I was supposed to. And she left anyway. Which, I don’t have to tell you made me panic and worry about you, about us.”
“Well, I’d argue that we haven’t’ done anything right in the way that other people would have it or do it,” Tommy said, nudging Evan with his shoulder. “But I also can’t’ say that we’ve done nothing right because a look where we are, what we have.”
“That’s what I realized,” Evan admitted. “At least part of it.”
“What’s the other part?” Tommy asked.
“So it’s like this,” Evan said, amping up and already starting to gesture with his hands. “I think I thought so highly of Abby for so long, right? She was this woman who was mature and knew what she wanted and had a whole life and still wanted me; it’s like she made me better or at least want to be a better man. And after she left, I was terrified that she’d taken that part of me with her, the mature Buck, the guy who was dependable and worthy.”
Tommy clenched his jaw because he hated hearing Evan talk about himself in terms of worthiness or usefulness. Granted, it was a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, but Tommy usually operated under a “do as I say, not as I do” policy.
“And seeing her again, seeing her with you just put so much into perspective for me,” Evan said. “I always thought of her as my first real relationship, but seeing her next to you, knowing what we have, how you treat me, it finally dawned on me that we didn’t have a relationship. Or we did, but like not the one I wanted, the one I thought we had.”
Tommy gently moved the coffees out of the way. “And what was that?”
“I thought we had this amazing relationship where we could be ourselves, someone I could share myself with and someone who wanted that too,” Evan said. “But I think I was just a physical presence for her during a hard time in her life. Someone who was there, who helped shoulder some of the weight, and then someone she just left behind because I didn’t matter to her. Not like I wanted to.”
Evan sighed. “And then I just saw her standing next to you and couldn’t help but think about all the things you know about me, the things you like about me, and I realized that she never really knew me at all.”
“It doesn’t sound like she did,” Tommy said gently, carefully. “Because if she had, I doubt she’d have been able to leave.”
“See and that,” Evan said, reaching over to grab Tommy’s hand. “You’d never do that to me. To anyone really. You’d never just take off, knowing you were done with me, without telling me. Yeah, it would crush me to lose you, but you’d still at least tell me. You wouldn’t leave me hanging on, waiting for any words of our future when you had no plans to come back.”
Evan squeezed his hand between both of his. “I just, I love you so much and I feel so lucky to have you in my life that sometimes I panic that I’m not quite good enough for you. And I want to be.”
Tommy reached out, cradling Evan’s cheek in his hand. “You are good enough. You’re more than good enough for me.”
“Even when I’m having a crisis and stupidly keep myself from you for 12 days?” Evan asked.
“Even then,” Tommy assured him, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.
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I'm not really sure how to introduce this one. It's a continuation of the Zevlor story that's quickly becoming a novel. But I'm posting it for you guys because it's kind of a snippet. It's after we find our man in the illithid colony, and he finds out what happened while he was enthralled. A brief warning. There is some angst, emotional pain, a little self-harm, and major feelings here. No smut in this one. It's also a pretty long scene. I did cry while writing it. I'm not sorry.
Tav is based on my current, who is a noble high elf silver dragon disciple. Highfalutin, I know, but that's what was in my head.
You approach Gale with a bit of trepidation. You're not sure if he'll agree, or even if your idea will work, but you have to try. Zevlor needs his people on his side. Or, at least, for them to understand what actually happened in those dark lands, when he was taken by the Absolute. But you couldn't be the one to do it.
As you move to stand near the wizard, sitting cross-legged on a mat and reading some dusty book you'd found in the house of healing, he looks up and smiles. "Greetings, Tav." Seeing the expression on your face, he rises with a look of concern. "My, you seem agitated. How can I help?"
You bite your lip and take a breath, then speak, your voice tight and apologetic. "I need a favor. If it's not... if you can manage it." 
He nods, taking your hand and pressing it. He can be so sweet sometimes. "If it is in my power, I shall do my utmost. What do you need?" 
You nod and squeeze his hand, grateful for his friendly devotion. "How are you with... mental domination?" 
His eyes widen a little, but he smiles. "I can cast the spell. Depending on the intended victim, I suppose I could maintain it almost indefinitely, as long as there are no other distractions. The power and duration really depend upon my concentration and the target's resistance. But so can you. Why? Who are we dominating today?"
You worry your lower lip with your teeth again and shake your head before continuing. "It cannot be me. They all know... look, Gale. We both know how powerful the elder brain is... with an unprepared mind, it would be almost impossible to resist its influence. Is that right?"
He nods slowly. "Yes, of course, but... oh, I see." He catches on quickly, you reflect, as he works out for himself what you want. "Let me see if I can guess your thought process. I assume this is in reference to your Hellrider and how his people have been treating him since... all that. You want to show them that what happened was not his fault, and you think a little demonstration of that kind of power would be a good way to do that. You can not perform this feat yourself because of your known association with him, so you want me to make a tiefling stand on one foot or something to demonstrate how easy it is to lose oneself in the face of strong magic." He ruminates for a moment, looking thoughtful, then shrugs and smiles. "I don't see that it could hurt to try. Courtesy dictates that I must warn the person I am to control, but even then, I should be able to hold them to my will for some time. May I involve another of our group?"
You nod. "If you think it will help. I can't really keep secrets from any of you anyway. Who are you planning to bring?"
He squeezes your hand and nods decisively before releasing you. "I had a thought to take Karlach with me. She's a tiefling, and she well knows how it is to be compelled to do things she doesn't want. I will go immediately. I saw a group of refugees in the inn recently. I imagine they haven't gone anywhere. I shall do my best to make them understand. Who is the intended target?" 
You watch Gale as he nearly bounces on his toes, seeming eager, as always, to demonstrate his skill. "Whoever is the strongest. But... well, don't hurt anyone or humiliate them too much. Just... never mind, you know what to do. It is in your capable hands."
Gale grins and bows. "My lady, I live to serve. Rest a while. You've been burning the candle at both ends lately, and you're a bit overwrought. Stay near. I'll come find you when I'm finished."
You watch him as he heads off to find Karlach and the other tieflings. You are overwrought, nervous, your concern over Zevlor and the refugees, the remaining Chosen, and the Elder Brain mingling and draining your mental faculties. You wander back to your own tent, sitting on a cushion just outside the flap and trying to meditate for a little while to clear your head. 
After what seems like ages, but is probably closer to half an hour, you sense Gale and Karlach returning, open your eyes, and struggle to your feet, trying to read their expressions. As they draw near, you can see that they are both smiling. Gale with an expression of satisfaction and Karlach a cheeky grin, bouncing a little as she approaches. She looks around when she arrives, before speaking at half her normal volume. "It worked! You're a genius, Tav. Cal volunteered. He hopped on one foot and everything! Gale was even going to make him slap Lia, but I stopped him, so he grabbed Dammon with the spell too and made them dance together! There was nothing they could do about it." She slaps Gale on the back, and the wizard wheezes, but looks pleased nonetheless. 
"Yes indeed," he continues with a smug expression. "Rolan has the strongest mind, but I do not think he would have taken my meddling with it lightly. So I thought maybe, if I dominated two of them at once, when they were prepared for it... and I made it quite clear that my powers do not nearly match those of the brain. I think it's had the desired effect. I believe Tilses went to look for him. She has been on his side the whole time anyway, and the others seem prepared both to apologize and forgive."
You blow out a breath and sag with relief. It was a long shot, and could have gone quite badly, especially with Rolan being so protective of his siblings... But hearing that your plan had worked was a welcome bright spot in an otherwise trying day. You pull them both into a hug, Gale grunting with wounded dignity and with the pressure of the grinning tiefling’s muscles crushing you both, thank them profusely, and then head off to look for Zevlor. Maybe this news would help with the deep depression he'd been struggling with since you rescued him.
The soft call of the scale you'd planted on him leads you toward Rethwin Town. As you approach the mason's guild, you see that Cerys, as well as Tilses, are standing near the doors, heads together in a fervent whispered discussion. You are opening your mouth to greet them when you're startled by a crash from inside, and the crunch and rattle of splintered wood. Cerys notices you first, and waits for you to arrive with a concerned expression. They're both looking at you nervously as another burst of noise echoes from beyond the half open doors, causing them both to flinch as you hurry over. 
Noting your concern, Tilses raises her hands, palms facing you. "He's not in any trouble. At least, not from fiends or undead. His only enemy is... well, himself." 
Your eyes widen. "Zevlor is making those noises?"
She nods, voice low, "yeah, the Commander is in a state at the moment. We came looking for him and heard the crashes... we thought he was being attacked. But... He's alone in there. At first he was shouting about being weak and unworthy, but then... well, he just started tearing the place apart."
You turn to go into the building, but Cerys catches your arm. "You might not want to go in there, Tav. He's unhinged. I've never seen him in this mood before. He might be... dangerous." 
You smile reassuringly and pat her hand. "He won't hurt me." Though, with the sounds coming from beyond the doors, you're not quite so sure as you pretend. "Go back to the inn. Please. If... if anything goes wrong... I can defend myself, but I don't want you in the crossfire. Just in case."
They exchange a long look, but then nod. "Very well," Tilses says quietly. "If anyone can help him, it's you. We know him, but he may be embarrassed... I know he thinks very highly of you." She grips your arm, a plea in her eyes, and then she and the other woman move off, looking over their shoulders once or twice. You wait until they are out of sight, and then take a deep breath and turn toward the doors. 
It is dim and dusty in the building, golden motes drifting through the newly revealed sunbeams that are filtering through holes in the battered roof. There is a flurry of movement in the back room, and you pass through the second set of doors just as Zevlor seizes a thick, rotten log from a cradle by the ruined fireplace and rips it in half with his bare hands. He casts the pieces aside and paces the width of the room, his hands shoved into his hair. There is blood on his face and hands, spattered on his dully gleaming armor, and a wreck of shattered crates and tools is scattered about. Your heart aches for him, but you hold your tongue for a moment as you sidle through the door and stand next to it, leaning your back against the wall. 
He doesn't notice you at first, so great is his distress, and in the relative quiet, you can hear him whimpering to himself, his voice hovering on the raw edge of sanity. "I tried. I'm so sorry. I wasn't strong enough. They're dead. They hate me. They're right to hate me. It's all my fault. If I had only been stronger..." He grabs another crate and sends it hurtling into the stone wall, where it explodes in a shower of splinters and small nails. You turn your head, but don't move, feeling a few shards pepper the side of your face. He turns back to pace in the other direction, stumbling and nearly falling over as he finally catches sight of you. He freezes and his eyes go wide, orange rings in deep black, shining in the gloom. His mouth wags for a moment, but then firms as he turns his face away. 
His words are a low, pained growl when he finally speaks. "You shouldn't be here." His hands flex, and you see that some of his claws are broken, his fingertips bloody. "I couldn't bear it if I... I  killed them. Leave, before I..."
You stand away from the wall, approaching him slowly, staying well out of his reach, but preparing a shield just in case. "We both know that's not true," you say quietly, your own hands wringing at your robes. "You weren't in control of..." 
He cuts you off with a roar, swinging his fist until it meets a supporting beam with a loud crack of splintered wood. The edifice sways, and dust and bits of ancient birds nests filter down from above. He's not a big man, but in this extremis he's terrifyingly strong, and you hope he doesn't manage to bring the whole roof down on your heads. "But I am responsible! I led them, it was me that... I..." He winces, looking at his hand in confusion, and you see the flash of white bone peeking through his scraped, ruby skin. Dark blood drips onto the floor from his torn flesh, drops scattering among the dust and ashes. "I wasn't good enough for them. I'm not strong enough, couldn't resist her. They're dead because of me. You don't want to associate... I've failed everyone. You deserve someone who..."
He stands there trembling for a moment before looking up and quickly striding toward you, raising his wounded hand to shove you back against the wall, your head hitting the stone so hard you see brief stars drift across your vision. He's on you in an instant, mouth crushing yours, bloody fingers pulling at your clothes. You feel all of his rage and shame and desperation as he kisses you frantically, his teeth cutting into your lips. You let him tear at you, neither returning his violent kiss nor trying to push him away. You're slightly dazed when he suddenly gasps and rips himself away from you. He pants, eyes blazing... "Gods I... I'm... you see? Im no good to anyone. I could have..." He reaches out as if to touch the drop of blood oozing from your bruised lips, a horrified expression on his face, but the lowers his eyes and drops to his knees before you. He covers his face with his hands and keens. "You don't want to be near me. Nobody wants to be near me. I see their faces when... you should leave me. I could never... never be good enough for... I'm not the man you..." he stops, shaking silently in the dust, ragged breaths filtering through his hands. 
You stand still for a moment, stunned, but then slowly let yourself sink to the floor, sliding your back down the wall until you’re sitting before him. You keep your tone gentle, "I am perfectly capable of judging for myself what kind of man you are. Here." You reach out and, ever so gently, ease his hands from his face, being careful not to put pressure on the broken one. He resists at first, but then relents. You inspect his bloody hand, lamenting to yourself that you cannot heal him, but you let coolness flow from your fingers, hoping to soothe him and ease the pain into numbness. "Hold still," you say as you release his fingers and reach beneath the hem of your robe to tear a strip from your linen under tunic. He flinches at the ripping sound, but keeps his hand stretched out before him, breathing harshly. You carefully wrap the linen around his hand, sinking a deeper cold into his inflamed flesh as you delicately press on the exposed little bone, easing it back into place and pinching the skin together before wrapping his palm firmly and tucking the end of the makeshift bandage under itself. You cradle the wounded appendage and reach out with your other hand, cupping his cheek lightly. His eyes are wide, sparkling with unshed tears, his mouth working in shock, lip trembling. You lean forward a little to hold his eyes, keeping your voice soft, soothing, "you do not have to carry the world on your shoulders, my love. Let me take some of the weight. Come here."
A silent tear tracks down his ravaged cheek, but he allows you to draw him toward you, laying his bandaged hand on your lap and shifting him so he's sitting before you before pressing his face into your shoulder, lifting your chin to avoid his horns. He curls his tail around himself and hesitantly wraps his good arm around your back, and you hold the armored tiefling close as his lean frame hitches and trembes with silent, heart-wrenching sobs.
The fading beams have crawled a long way up the wall before a low voice nudges you out of your doze. "My. Aren't you two a mess." Zevlor is cradled in your arms, having fallen into a deep sleep after crying himself out. Shadowheart crouches next to you, her expression unusually soft, and looks you over. You know you must look shocking, with your lips bruised and cut, and little streaks of dried blood on your face, your eyes puffy from weeping with heartache over Zevlor's pain. She reaches out and brushes a lock of hair out of your eyes, dropping her voice to a quiet whisper. "We saw the other two return, but it took a while to get it out of them. We waited as long as we dared, and then I came because, well, I'm the most subtle." She smiles. "Good thing too. You look like you both could use a little attention." You nod and shift slightly, letting her see Zevlor's hand, wrapped in the bloody bandage on your lap. He tenses a little, tightening his grip on you and murmuring into your robe, but doesn't wake, such is his exhaustion. Shadowheart reaches out, very lightly touching her fingers to his, and whispers the spell. His breath hitches and he shudders as the tingling power filters through him, but then sighs, seeming to feel the relief even in his sleep. She heals you next, the sensation making your skin prickle with gooseflesh, but you feel the small cuts close and the bruises fade.
"Thank you," you mouth silently, and she nods, leaning back on her heels. 
"We will leave you alone as long as you wish. We just wanted to know you were safe." Her expression becomes thoughtful. "You love him." Her own nod follows yours, and she reaches out to brush one knuckle down your cheek before standing. "I'm happy for you. Truly. I will tell the others you are both alright. Take as long as you need. You deserve to be happy." Her smile is almost sweet as she turns away and silently exits the room. 
The last light is fading when Zevlor stirs against you. Slowly he turns, easing himself around in your grasp until his eyes, just a flicker of fire in the darkness now, gaze up at you. His voice is a husky whisper, "did you mean it? What you said, before. You called me... or, maybe I was dreaming." He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, a soft, happy sound. "If so, it was a wonderful dream."
You look down at him with a soft smile and bend your head to place a light kiss on his full lips. "I did. And you are. Ai armiel telere maenen hir, Zevlor, and I can only hope you feel the same." He sits up, keeping his arm about you and chuckling softly, looking at you with undisguised adoration. 
"I don't know what that means, but I think I can guess. I can see it now, in your eyes." He cups your cheek with a gentle hand. "Are you certain this is what you want? Me? Because, I know... my heart is yours for as long as I draw breath. I love you. So very much." You nod yes, and he slowly leans toward you, taking a deep trembling breath before pressing his lips softly to yours. 
Zevlor kisses you chastely for a little while, his lips and hands full of tenderness, before placing a kiss on your forehead, and then resting his own against yours. "Very well, my lady. Together, then." His words are a feather brush against your lips. "But you need me at my best if we are to prevail in this... I will seek the Oathbreaker Knight."
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