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#so she tries to help people and tries to do what she has to do and also things she WANTS to do and fails SO OFTEN
ellecdc · 3 days
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Okie but I really would love more Barty x potter sibling reader it just makes me happy I don’t care if it’s smut fluff angst I will read whatever you write please👉🏻👈🏻
love these goofs so much, thanks for your request!
Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who feels really bad for manatees
CW: talking about how it's illegal to interact with manatees and how sad that is (read: it's fluff), fem!reader, reader has long enough hair to push behind her ear
It had taken a bit of coercion on James’ part to convince Regulus to join him up in Gryffindor tower tonight - and by coercion, I mean James batted his eyelashes dramatically and promised lots of cuddles and kisses for Regulus’ ‘trouble’ - but James was feeling quite chuffed as he and his now official boyfriend stepped through the portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room.
Those feelings of chuffedness quickly vanished when he spotted you cozied up in an armchair built for one with none other than Barty Crouch Junior. 
“Who would you rather she be with, James?” Regulus hissed at him, alerting James to the fact that he’d been grumbling aloud.
“Anyone.” He muttered petulantly.
Regulus scoffed in response. “Please; I hardly think you’d believe anyone good enough for your sister.”
James thought that Regulus was quite right. 
“I think you’re quite right.” He admitted aloud before starting towards the two of you. 
“James Fleamont Potter.” Regulus hissed as he grabbed James roughly by the sleeve. “You look at me right now.”
James wrenched his eyes away from you to look at Regulus’ fuming (though no less beautiful) eyes, dividing his attention between two of the people he loved the most in the whole world. 
“James Potter, boyfriend or not I will drown you in the Black Lake and leave you to the sodding squid if you go over there right now.”
James ripped his gaze from where Barty’s hand sat on your knee to look at his boyfriend scandalized. “You wouldn’t.”
“You know I would.” Regulus threatened promised. “Do not fuck around with the only love he receives.”
James fought the urge to whine as he turned his gaze back over to the two of you; you were speaking animatedly, gesticulating wildly as you lamented about something James would have absolutely told you to shut the fuck up about nearly 30 seconds in.
“You can see how much he worships her, Jamie. And I think you should feel grateful knowing that there is truly no one who would be as devoted to her as he is.”
James did whine petulantly at that, even perhaps embarrassingly stomping his foot a little bit, though he would deny it if you asked. “I hate it.”
“Tough.” Regulus said simply, pulling James over to a love seat near the fireplace; close enough to see and hear the two of you, but not close enough that the pair would alert either of you to their presence. “Just be quiet and watch.”
James made a dramatic gagging sound earning him a smack up the back of the head from his boyfriend, but he acquiesced and turned his attention back to the two of you.
You were curled up on Barty’s lap; your back resting against the arm of the chair and your feet tucked under Barty’s thigh that you weren’t currently perched on.
You regularly tried to shove your feet under people that you were sitting with because your feet were always cold; James knew this because he’d swatted at your legs enough times for doing it to him. Barty didn’t seem to mind much though.
He also didn’t seem to mind that you were holding one of his hands hostage in yours as you fiddled and played with the various rings adorning his hands, speaking a million miles a minute and hardly pausing to take a breath.
“I just think it’s so sad. I mean; they don’t know! They don’t know that it’s not safe for them to be around people, but I can’t help thinking; what if they think we’re ignoring them?!” You asked emphatically.
Barty’s eyebrows rose to mirror yours as he raised his free hand to push a lock of hair behind your ear that had fallen in your theatrics.
“It’s because they have no natural predators, you see.” You continued solemnly, earning you an ‘oh, really?’ from Barty. “Many people think that sharks or alligators may pose a threat to manatees; but the species peacefully coexist. So, you know, then all of a sudden there are these long noodly manatee things in the water and the manatees are just like ‘holy shit; that’s a weird looking manatee! I’ve never seen one of those before.’ And then they try to make friends or say hello, but it’s illegal for humans to touch them.”
“Illegal?” Barty queried. “To touch an animal begging you to touch it?”
“Exactly!” You agreed quite loudly, if you asked James. He watched though as Barty’s hand moved back down to your legs and brushed his thumb in soothing circles as he kept his attention dutifully on you. “So they’re asking for pets or saying hello and trying to make friends; and people have to just…keep swimming. I’m sure they believe we must be quite rude, always ignoring them like that.”
You sounded actually quite dejected at the thought; your face falling as you looked down at Barty’s hand in your lap.
“Do you think perhaps there are mermaids where the manatees live?” Barty asked, earning him an eager gasp from you as you seemed to remember something.
“That’s brilliant Barty.” You shouted; and though James expected a cocky expression to grace Barty’s face at being told he was right about something, it never came. In fact, his face remained dutifully lovesick. 
“Did you know that muggles used to believe manatees were actually mermaids or sirens during the late 15th century?”
Barty scoffed at that. “Well they’ve clearly never seen a mermaid before if they believe those sweet things resemble one.”
“Well yes, but I think muggles imagine mermaids differently. More just a beautiful lady living in the water, maybe with a tail; the beauty standards back then idealized curvy women.”
“Obviously, curvy birds are hot.”
“I know!” You agreed quickly. “I’m sure though that if we have mermaids in the sodding Black Lake, surely they have them in the America's?”
Barty was quickly nodding his head at you. “I’m sure I’ve read somewhere that they do, Princess.”
“Yeah?” You asked hopefully.
James watched as Barty’s face broke out in a soft grin as you met his eyes. “Would I ever lie to you?”
You shook your head in response and returned your gaze to your lap where you continued playing with his hand. 
“Maybe the mermaids are friends with the manatees? They look like they’d just love some belly rubs.” You mused.
“Perhaps someone just needs to tell the mermaids to tell the manatees that it’s for their own good.”
You looked back up at that. “Yeah?”
“They could be like our underwater owl; we just travel to…”
“Florida.” You offered for him.
“Florida and find some mermaids to deliver our message.”
You seemed to consider the idea before looking back at him. “I think you might have to do it alone.”
Barty tilted his head at you and squeezed your calf. “You wouldn’t want to come with me to swim with manatees and mermaids?”
You shook your head. “I don’t think I could; if a manatee approached me I would have to pet it and then the manatees would all die and it would be my fault.”
Barty hummed in understanding and brought one of his hands to your chin. “Okay, Princess; I’ll be your oceanic owl.”
“You’d do that for me?”
Barty gently pulled you by your chin to slot your lips together. “I would do anything for you.”
James, having had quite enough of seeing such sickening displays of love thank you very much, turned his very unimpressed glare to Regulus, who was already looking at him with one perfectly arched eyebrow. 
“That’s disgusting.” He grumbled indignantly. 
“Are you telling me you wouldn’t be a manatee’s owl for me? Don’t I deserve that?”
James scoffed derisively at that. “I think it’s very obvious I would; you’re the most deserving person I know!”
“Then doesn’t your sister deserve that too?” Regulus asked gently.
James’ eyes moved back over to where you were now tracing delicate shapes over Barty’s face with your forefinger, yet he still couldn’t seem to force his eyes away from lovingly gazing at you.
“Let me ask you this, Jamie.” Regulus asked, joining James in watching his friend and James’ sister from afar. “Do you think there’s a line you would draw when it comes to how far you’d go for me?”
“No!”
“No?”
“Of course not.” James insisted.
“So you’d kill your mother for me?”
What?
“What?” James asked dumbly.
Regulus smirked. “Would you kill your own mother for me?”
“Erm,”
“Jamie.”
“Yeah?”
“The answer is no; that’s the right answer.”
“Oh thank Godric.” James sighed, holding his head in his hands. 
“But Barty would; Barty would raze the entire fucking earth for Y/N.” Regulus continued. “And even if he wouldn’t,” He continued when James seemed to take issue with that. “How long would you have let her talk about manatees?”
James huffed and crossed his arms petulantly, even though he knew the answer. The answer was that he would have cut her off the second he realized she wasn’t talking about quidditch or pranks.
“She’s very loved, James. And he…” Regulus seemed to take an emotional breath as he watched his oldest friend take your hand and bring it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “You Potter’s love like no one else I’ve ever known, James.”
James turned his full attention to his boyfriend and took one of Regulus’ hands in both of his.
“You love loudly, and openly, and freely, and everyone around you is better for it. Barty most of all.” 
James let out a sigh and kissed Regulus’ knuckles. 
“Fine.” He relented in faux irritation. 
Regulus chuckled and pressed a shy kiss to James’ shoulder. “Don’t worry James, you Potter’s are in the protection of Slytherin’s now; we protect our own.”
And whether or not James particularly liked Barty, if there was one thing he knew to be true; no one would be able to mess with you with the likes of him around.
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laneywrld · 19 hours
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things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton
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part two
word count: 10k
warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.
A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate
It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.
Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.
Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him. 
Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.
Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track. 
Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.
Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.  
Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.
She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people. 
She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.
She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.
Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships. 
She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.
That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, the he most definitely lost.
Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.
When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her. 
Lewis 🏁
How's your date?
She shakes her head, typing out her response.
dense. how's silverstone? 
Lewis 🏁
Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.
i'm sorry 😞  
Lewis 🏁
I'm going to need you tonight.
Lewis, i'm on a date.
Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.
Lewis 🏁
Is he getting lucky tonight?
NO!
Lewis 🏁
So why can't I?
Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again. 
She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.
"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously. 
She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.
Lewis 🏁
My jet will be waiting for you.
That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower. 
When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed. 
It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.
"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.
He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.
"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."
"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.
"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.
Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him. 
She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body. 
After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.
She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."
"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.
Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin. 
Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.
Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship. 
He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.
Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.
"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.
She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."
"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."
His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.
"Okay." 
Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.
"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.
Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?
She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.
"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck. 
She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.
"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"
Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay." 
Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.
"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"
Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."
"Why that?"
"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."
Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."
Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly. 
-
They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestles in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.
"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back. 
"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."
"Come on, beautiful."
He sits up, forcing her up with him.
She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck. 
He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.
He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.
He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.
There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.
"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.
She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.
When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.
This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle. 
She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same. 
"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.
As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.
The screen lights up with notifications. 
One catches her eye from, Natalie.
Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.
Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.
It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.
Still on for tomorrow?
At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.
"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him. 
She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes. 
He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.
Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.
But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.
She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him. 
Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.
-
She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.
He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.
"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"
She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending. 
Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.
When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.
"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.
"Hi, George, I'm Clem."
"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.
"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."
George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.
"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"
She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.
Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."
And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.
George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.
"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."
"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.
Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.
When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.
She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.
She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.
"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.
"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.
"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.
"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.
She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.
She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.
"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.
He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"
She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."
"Then get in the fucking car."
Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment. 
He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.
Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile. 
Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.
It has him hard instantly.
"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.
"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."
Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.
"I want to kiss you, but people will see."
She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.
"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.
"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place. 
"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."
"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.
"You like fucking with me." He declares.
Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.
"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.
He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.
 Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips. 
He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.
He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.
Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.
When the time for the start of race gets closer he is thankful to see om take his place beside Toto. 
He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically. 
She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.
He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door. 
"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.
He looks stressed and zoned out.
"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.
Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.
She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes. 
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"Okay."
"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."
That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."
She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."
Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.
Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."
"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.
Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.
"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.
"Time to race, Lewis."
She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.
Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.
She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.
When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves. 
She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile. 
She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.
She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left and and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.
She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.
She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head. 
She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her. 
She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push him arms through the sleeves.
His hands are back on her in an instance, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.
Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place. 
"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.
She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.
"I can feel it in my bones." 
"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.
Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!" 
He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.
"Well, that's me."
Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.
"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.
"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.
"Get in the car, Hamilton."
She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.
She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.
Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.
She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.
"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.
"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."
Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.
Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"
She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."
Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.
"Intense, yeah?" He questions.
"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."
"First time coming to a race?"
She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."
She laughs, "Right."
The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes. 
He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.
But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.
Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.
Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.
It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race. 
He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.
This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is. 
That anger got him P3. 
He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.
Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.
She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.
She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.
When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.
But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours. 
When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed. 
There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.
He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.
He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.
He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him. 
"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."
Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet. 
"Can you walk?" 
She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights. 
Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.
He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.
Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.
Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't. 
"I had fun," she announces.
"I'm glad."
"You got podium." She cheers lowly.
Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.
She gives up trying to talk to him after that. 
The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.
When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.
As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.
Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.
"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.
"No, I don't." 
"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.
"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.
"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes. 
"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.
Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.
"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.
She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.
He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other. 
"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks. 
He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.
She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.
He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.
Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress. 
He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair. 
Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room. 
She tasted so good.
Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing. 
Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone. 
He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.
He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.
"Fuck."
Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.
Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears. 
When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls. 
She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.
He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours. 
"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.
"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.
"I think you do." 
His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.
"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.
"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"
Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.
Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her. 
He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire. 
He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.
Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force. 
This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.
Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.
Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.
She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis. 
Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.
He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.
"Woah." she pants.
Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.
Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.
"I booked you a room."
He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.
"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.  
"It's just a floor below, suite 909."
Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"
Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.
"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.
Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness. 
"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.
Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."
She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.
She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt. 
Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase. 
 "Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."
Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.
She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.
And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.
She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator. 
The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob. 
She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.
For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much. 
It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.
Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.
It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.
-
Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness. 
He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.
He regrets his actions. 
He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood. 
He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.
"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"
He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel. 
He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.
He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.
He never stood a chance against her charm.
He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.
-
When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds. 
"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.
The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.
"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."
Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.
Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away. 
-
Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since. 
Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.
Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants. 
"That was fun." She exhales.
He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile. 
This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure. 
He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"
He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.
"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."
Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.
He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.
It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him. 
He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.
Everything unchanged, nothing new.
Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.
So he tries dating. 
And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.
Their eyes don't gleam like hers.
They don't understand his humor.
They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.
They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.
They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.
They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.
Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.
And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man. 
When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.
clemmy 🪂
I need to see you, where are you?
He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.
He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.
He'd take any sight of her he could get.
-
Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people. 
If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons. 
She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart. 
How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit. 
"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."
Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."
Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too. 
But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.
Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all. 
clementine
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clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !! 
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feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿
clementine the coolest 😎
lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR
clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️
user no bc who did my girl like that
clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃
user builds character my ass, go beat his ass
user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???
clementine yk im filming girl 🙄
clementine
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clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?
danielricciardo In your hands slaps
clementine you sir, have great taste 😘
user daniel what are you doing here 😭
user No really, weird ass crossover episode
user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen
clementine you noticing the small details >>>
justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me
clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂
user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm
feliciathegoat i love my bestie
clementine and I love u T 🥹
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-
Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.
He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.
Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash. 
He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door. 
He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome. 
He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door. 
He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.
She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.
"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."
"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."
She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.
His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.
She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.
"I love you."
She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"
He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."
"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.
"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.
"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest. 
He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.
"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."
Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."
"But you did, " she cries.
"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."
"You don't mean that." Clem breathes. 
"I promise I do, Clem."
She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."
He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."
"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."
It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues. 
"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you."
"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.
"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."
"It's almost spring," Clem announces. 
"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.
"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.
"I missed listening to you. Swear I did." 
"Are we still friends?"
"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more." 
"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.
She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."
"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you." 
"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.
"Starting over, right?"
"Yeah, starting over."
Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.
Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining. 
"Thank you for showing up for me."
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Not proofread
the album:
bad religion - frank ocean
in your hands - halle
i think- tyler, the creator
saturn- sza
broken is the man- jorja smith
everything is gonna be alright- infinity song
everything- kehlani
mine- beyonce ft drake
poison- beyonce
are we still friends- tyler, the creator
eternal sunshine- jhene aiko
<3
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AITA for killing my character and quitting a D&D game I was part of?
Apologies in advance but this is going to be rather long, I'll put a TL;DR at the bottom.
So this all started about eleven months ago when I (14, she/they/he) started getting into D&D, and joined a D&D group thanks to a friend of mine we'll call T (14, he/they). The group was made up of about five people total, but the main people in this situation are me, T, and the DM who we'll call N (15, he/him).
Now when I was making my character, T was helping me out by letting me describe what sort of character I wanted and suggesting different races, classes etc to make it work how I wanted, and what we ended up with was a Pact of the Undead warlock. The backstory of my character was that their older brother died defending them from an invasion of the village they lived in.
My character managed to make contact with their spirit in the afterlife and formed a "pact" with them, gaining power in exchange for letting him "look after them" (i.e. keep watch over them from the afterlife, protect them from harm, all that sorta thing). T told me to run the final concept past N but that they were sure it'd be allowed and that the pact idea was really sweet.
So I told N about my character and the backstory idea like T suggested and N seemed really on board with the whole thing, though he wanted to make a few slight changes to things in secret that would come up during the campaign, to make things more exciting I guess.
I told him I was alright with that, as long as nothing about who the pact was with and what it was for changed too much. He assured me that it wouldn't and that he'd get back to me on what changes he was planning, but he never did, and at the time I just put that down to him being busy.
The campaign starts, and for the first few months things are going pretty good. I do notice that a lot of NPCs, in fact nearly every non-child NPC, seems to be flirting(?) with my character, but I don't think too much of it at first, she is a young elven woman with blonde hair and silver eyes and everyone in the group has said that she's very pretty.
It isn't until one of the others who is also playing an elven character points out that they've been on the receiving end of essentially racism towards elves from NPCs who have simultaneously been showering my character with compliments that I start realizing how frequent and honestly rather obsessive it is, and as mentioned, just how many of the NPCs are doing it.
Then we get to T's character arc, exploring his character's backstory and helping them with things that come up. However, there are certain characters that are introduced that, out of character, T reacts rather negatively to, and when I ask him outside of session what's going on he confides in me that N is changing elements of his backstory that he'd told him he didn't want changing. As an example, T wrote that their character's mother was never part of their character's life growing up.
One of the characters we met was the character's mother, who was instead apparently a very prominent part of their life and cared greatly about them "not that they ever noticed". He also changed the character of T's father from "kind and caring man who did his best to raise his child alone and teach them how to defend themselves" to "stubborn, angry and neglectful father that is constantly disappointed in his son", which completely blindsided and upset T.
T also said that he'd tried talking to N about this but that the response had ended up being, to put it bluntly, "I'm the DM so I have the final say in things". This started to worry me, especially when I realized that N had never gotten back to me with his "proposed changes" to my backstory.
So I sent him a message, but because I didn't want to drag T into my own business with N I decided to say something along the lines of "hey, did you ever figure out what you wanted to change about my backstory?". He messaged back and said that he'd figured it out, but that things with school were so busy that he hadn't had time to sit down and properly write it all out to send to me yet, but assured me that he would by the time T's arc was over.
Several more months passed with no further word from N about my character's backstory, and as T's arc wraps up there's this idea that starts getting brought up, of how demons often exploit the grief of mortals to latch onto them and claim their souls by impersonating the dead person.
The others in the group all latch onto this and start speculating about how exactly the demons use impersonation to claim souls, except for T who gives me this rather worried look from across the table, and it suddenly hits me that this is probably meant to be the opening of my character arc.
I pull N aside after the game is over for the night and ask him directly if this is the opening to my character arc, and he says that it is, but not to worry because the demon thing is, to quote, "just being brought up to get the others interested". I remind him about what I told him about not wanting anything to change about who the pact was with and what it was for, and ask him again what changes he's made to my backstory.
He promises he'll have a full list to me by the start of next session, that we'll have time to sit down together and discuss it all even, and that he won't do anything I don't want him to do. Despite my concerns and the fact that he has already said several times he'll send me this list without doing it, I decide, like a fool, to trust him, even though in hindsight I had absolutely no reason to by this point.
The next session rolls around, and of course there's no list, instead a lot of NPCs who start voicing concern whenever my character brings up the fact she's a warlock, or her dead brother, especially if the pair come up in quick succession. One of the other characters figures out what's going on and asks if they can basically cast some sort of spell to determine if a demon's got control of my soul, which N agrees to, and the spell determines that yes, that's exactly what's going on.
I immediately confront N, mid-session, and tell him outright that this isn't fair, that I told him I didn't want him to change this part of my backstory, and I wanted him to change it back immediately or I wasn't going to play anymore. He started on this long-winded response basically summarizing as "I'm the DM, I can do what I want".
This is the part where I may be the asshole, because well, I saw red in that moment, and decided I not only wanted to follow through on my threat of quitting, but also do something to ensure that my point was driven home.
I fired off a quick message to T on my phone warning him what I was about to do, and while the others were talking about what to do to help me I loudly announced that my character was stabbing herself through the heart, which N had previously ruled would be an instant method of death if carried out.
Silence falls over the group. N tells me that I need to roll to see if I even hit, which I argue (with T backing me up) that if my character is willing to get hurt then it's automatically a hit. N tells me that I need to roll to see if I even pierce my heart. Okay, fine, I roll, and as luck would have it I roll a Nat 20. N attempts to send me just to death saves, but I remind him (again, with T backing me up) that he'd ruled that this was an instant death.
So then he tries to have an NPC cleric show up and revive my character, but T brings up that the soul has to be willing to return to life for that to work, and I immediately say that my character wouldn't even be able to consent to that if her soul was held by a demon, nor would she even be willing if she could. Then I tell N directly that he can consider this my official resignation from the group and walk out, and T follows along behind me after a few minutes.
Ever since then N's been blowing up my phone, fluctuating between begging for me to rejoin the group and promising that he'll do things differently this time, and calling me a selfish bastard for "ruining the fun". T still goes to sessions occasionally, though I think now it's just to spectate, and he's said that maybe things went a little far with the character death in hindsight. And honestly, I'm not exactly proud of how I acted now either.
TL;DR -- I joined a D&D campaign where the DM has made unwanted changes to my character's backstory, despite my attempts to communicate with him, so I retaliated by killing my character mid-session and refusing to let him revive her before quitting. AITA?
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helvegen-s · 2 days
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Rage, rage | four
index
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Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC
Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.
Warnings: blood, bad language, talking about trauma, bad familiar relationships (King of hybern father of the year)
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Sitting in that chair, Nimue did nothing but absorb everything she saw around her: the paintings hanging on the walls, the rugs covering the floor, every detail placed on the shelves, the books arranged alphabetically...
It was all perfect. She had never imagined what the physical representation of the word "home" would be like, yet she felt it should be like this. In every carefully placed thing, she saw the affection behind it.
She stopped daydreaming and returned to the most pressing matter: the fact that, for some reason, she was tied to that chair.
Bound, but without seeing the ropes. It was an invisible force that pushed her against the wood of the armrests and the cushion of the backrest. She tried to suppress a laugh with little success because she knew effortlessly she could free herself from those ties. But well, if it made them feel safer, so be it.
She looked up, first to that male: Azriel, as she had heard others call him.
She still felt that sensation pulsing right in the middle of her being, making her gaze involuntarily go to him even in that room full of people.
Azriel felt like he was going to explode. He stood, leaning against the back of one of the sofas in the living room, positioned between Rhysand and Amren. With his arms crossed over his chest, he tried to control his breathing, counting to ten and releasing the air, counting again.
His wings trembled upon hearing the small laugh that escaped from the lips of that stranger. "What the hell are you laughing at? Do you find the situation funny?" he barked at the girl. She seemed surprised as her expression changed abruptly.
"No," she replied, furrowing her brow. She could feel the man's anger through that invisible thread connecting her to him. She tried to clear her mind. "It's just amusing that you have me tied up here. I can free myself at any moment, and if I don't, it's because I know you're afraid of me."
Rhysand's face must have been a sight. Afraid of her? He reinforced even more the restraints binding the girl to the chair, and with a sly smile, he took a step forward. "Dare to let yourself go, and you'll see what happens."
Was that some kind of sarcasm? Nimue didn't understand, she was just used to people speaking to her clearly, if only to avoid being in her presence more than necessary.
So she stood up, crossing the restraints of the High Lord like someone walking against a gentle breeze. Everyone jumped in their seats, reaching for their weapons or preparing to defend themselves.
But Nimue simply stood there, scanning from one to another: from the High Lord to Azriel, from the petite woman to Cassian, as she had heard Rhysand call him.
"I know you don't understand what I am or who I am right now, but it's okay. I'll explain it calmly, but you have to be willing to listen to me. You need me more than I need you."
Cassian let out a mocking laugh, "And why did you help us if you say you don't need us?"
And then silence fell.
Why had she helped them?
She had acted without thinking, that's for sure. She had never contradicted her father, and for the first time it was under such circumstances that something didn't fit deep within her conscience. She could excuse it with those memories that weren't hers: seeing those two humans in the Cauldron had awakened in her those memories from twenty years ago. But it wasn't just that.
Yes, she knew that within her, that idea of killing her father, ending him, stopping that plan he wanted to carry out and doing good had always been germinating. But in between there was always that rotten and unconditional love she felt for the King of Hybern, which was written in every cell of her being from the day she emerged.
"I needed an excuse," she said aloud. All the attention of those present was on her, and she kept talking. "I always knew my father was never the good one. I'm missing pieces of the story, I only know what he told me through filters. I know there are people in Prythian, I know there's going to be a war, I know everything revolves around the Cauldron. But I don't know much more."
My father.
When the girl uttered those words, Azriel felt a surge rising from the depths of his throat. How could a monster like the King of Hybern have sired such a beautiful creature?
Yes, beautiful. She is beautiful.
He stopped his thoughts abruptly, trying to ignore his own shadow's whispers. He was hallucinating, again.
"I also know that my father expected me to fight for him in this war, to incinerate Prythian's forces. He counted on an easy victory, however now..." Nimue's hands couldn't stop playing with the fabric of the dress she was wearing. It was then that she realized the pristine white fabric of her skirt was stained with blood, the blood of the Illyrians. She took a deep breath and continued speaking, "He's not going to take it very well that I've done this. That I've... betrayed him.”
"Well, don't tell me."
Nimue looked up at Azriel. Was that irony again?
Rhysand gave the Shadowsinger a stern look, and everyone fell silent again, waiting for the girl to speak.
But she didn't know where to continue. What should she tell them about herself? Should she tell them what she was?
And in the midst of the prolonged silence, the High Lord spoke up, "No one knew of the existence of a princess of Hybern. If you claim to be so powerful, why did your father never boast about you?"
There was something that didn't add up in all of this and had Rhysand uneasy. He felt the presence of the female, a pale, pulsating white light in the middle of the room. It was a strange magic, something he couldn't quite categorize within the fae magic that flowed through his veins. His gaze shifted to Amren, hoping she could shed some light on the situation, but to his surprise, she looked just as bewildered as he did.
"My father never wanted my existence to be known. I..." Nimue bit her lip, weighing how much revealing everything to this group of strangers would be a good idea. "I've never left Hybern. In fact, I've never left the castle."
"How old are you, girl? Have you been locked up in there your whole life?" Amren asked.
"It's hard to say how old I am. In this body, I've lived twenty years of yours. Before that... my memories are clouded."
"In this body? Before that?" Azriel inquired. He felt like he was going crazy, wanting to pull his hair out and scream. What was happening? Of all the outcomes he had predicted for today, this was certainly one he wouldn't have even dreamed of. "Tell us the truth, or I swear I'll slit your throat."
Nimue smiled, a poisonous smile she had learned from her father.
"I doubt it. If I have to kick your ass again like I did out there, I will," she held Azriel's gaze. And added, "And with pleasure."
Azriel snorted, baring his teeth in an aggressive gesture and reaching for his dagger. Nimue simply smiled, holding his gaze without flinching.
With that mask she had learned to wear.
Rhysand rolled his eyes and brought his hands to his face, trying to process everything that was happening.
They hadn't obtained the Cauldron, they had learned of Tamlin's betrayal, they had transformed his mate's sisters, and now this. It had been a very eventful day, to say the least.
"So you're trying to tell us that you've been in this world for twenty years, but before that, you were somewhere else, right? Do you remember where?"
"Yes," said Nimue. She tried to hold back another laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "In the Cauldron."
And they fell silent again.
The expressions on everyone's faces were like something out of a painting, and Nimue let out a quiet laugh.
She had never had to explain who or what she was; everyone where she came from knew. They all knew her.
"Well," she began calmly, "we all know my father, the King of Hybern. The fanatic, lunatic and power-hungry one."
"Yes, unfortunately."
"He impregnated one of his royal concubines, and in the midst of that madness, he decided to put her in the Cauldron. I don't know if it was under coercion from the Cauldron itself, if it was a demand my father made, or what. But the woman died instantly, and in exchange for her life, I came out of the Cauldron."
"So, you're telling me that the Cauldron not only has the power to turn humans into fae, as we've seen with Feyre's sisters. You're telling me," Rhysand took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts, "that the Cauldron granted the King a daughter in exchange for a sacrifice, no more, no less."
"Yes, but it's not something that will happen again. The Cauldron created me as its own whim, just as it has done with those two humans you mentioned. Feyre’s sisters…"
“Elain and Nesta.”
"Yes," said Nimue. "What it has done with them won't happen again. Not for a long time, at least. The Cauldron only responds to its own impulses, and I don't even understand them myself. Our fae minds aren't made to understand what the Cauldron is or how it acts. Not even the mind of that creature."
Nimue pointed at Amren, who crossed her arms with a sly smile.
"Well, on that you're right. Not even this creature," she said, pointing to herself, "is capable of understanding under what desires that pot acts."
And they all fell silent again, weighing the situation and assimilating what the girl had said.
Azriel was simply angry, furious. He couldn't feel anything else at that moment. He didn't care much about the Cauldron's affairs, nor did he lose sleep over trying to understand how it worked.
He just wanted to know why he had the misfortune of finding out that his mate, whom he had been waiting to meet since he was a child, had to be the damn daughter of the King of Hybern.
"And regarding your problem," Nimue continued, this time addressing only Azriel, "well, our problem. I never knew what a mate was, as you called it. I knew that the Cauldron forged the souls of people to be incomplete, so that if they were lucky, they would find the other half they were missing during their life. But when I saw you, when I felt it, I was able to understand. I'm sorry if it's been a disappointment, but it is what it is."
Azriel frowned, his arms crossed and the hair on his arms bristling. He felt like he was trembling with rage.
"I didn't ask for this, princess."
Nimue didn't want to admit it, but the pull of disdain she felt on the other side of the bond made her heart shrink.
"Great, neither did I."
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Taglist:
@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @donttellthecats @annblvd
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Could you write one for Charles where one of the kids is struggling with something at school but they're having a hard time admitting that so he just finds out one day, and talks it out and tries to help?
Charles noticed Amélie seemed a bit more anxious lately, always closing herself in her bedroom to do her homework and study for hours on end, not allowing anyone to go inside her room until she was done.
"Amélie, can I speak with you, chérie?", Charles said as he watched your daughter walk into her bedroom.
"Sure - is everything alright? Did I do something wrong?", she mused she sat at her desk.
"You tell me - I've noticed you have been worried, tired, you're always studying and you don't seem all to well", he tried, "I just want to help with anything you're feeling but you need to tell me first", Charles spoke softly.
"It's just... school has been harder lately", she admitted, "I don't know what it is, because I'm still working like I usually did, but my mind keeps flying somewhere else - and then I've seen these videos of where people learn they have ADHD because of how many fingers they put down and it's all so exhausting and confusing", she admitted as tears of frustration pooled on her eyes.
"Chérie, you could've told me sooner, or mama too", your husband offered, "we could've helped".
"It's silly sometimes, because there's so much information, but then the teacher keeps saying that we should all work harder, but I'm hitting the top mark every single quizz we do", Amélie argued.
"Your math teacher? That woman is a fossil at that school, she was there when me and mama were students there and everyone thought she was ready for retirement then already", Charles chuckled, "but if you're worried, we can also talk to a professional, there's no shame in that".
"I know there isn't - it's just that I never felt like this", she swivelled on the chair, "maybe it isn't a bad idea, just to make sure".
"We'll do it then, no worries", Charles smiled, "in the mean time, you should also rest your brain a little, okay? And if you need any help, you ask for it".
"Well, since you're offering, there's this bit on my homework that I haven't been able to complete", Amélie added as she opened her notebook, "the dinosaur teacher said we should be able to do this with our eyes closed by now even though she failed to teach us how to!", she stated.
"Amélie Leclerc!", Charles warned even though he wanted to laugh at her words.
"What?! You called her a fossil, how's mine worse than that?", she argued.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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heycasper22 · 3 days
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Acotar long theory - Rhysand & Gwynriel.
Spoilers all SJM books
Rhys Knows about about the mating bond between Gwyn and Azriel.
This is a theory that I can really get behind anyway and here's why. 
Staring out with SJM retconning the events surrounding the raid on the temple in Sangravah. In ACOMAF Rhys states he had to wait for confirmation from Azriel that Sangravah had been raided, Mor also appears to be shocked by this news so we can take for granted that Azriel was either there or obtained the info to pass on to Rhys.
In ACOSF however SJM changed this to Azriel definitely being there, first and slaughtering all the Hybern soldiers, then Mor a few minutes later and then Rhys arriving in person. 
This is actually the part of the recton that I find the most interesting. That Rhys himself turned up. Sarah could have retconned it so Azriel then Mor and Cassian winnowing in together with less tampering with what she originally said. Rhys often delagates tasks/missions to others.
Having Rhys present leads me to believe that there would be some purpose in his being there, Mor I think could be accounted for as a female presence to help the priestesses. Gwyn even specifies what the characters do, Azriel kills, Mor heals but not what Rhys did. 
So what purpose could Rhys have had in that scene?
Was he put there just so that he was already introduced to Gwyn and could snipe at Nesta when he sees them together in the training ring? He already knows why all the Priestess are at the HoW library, he could have sniped at Nesta wether or not he knew her personally or not. 
For this I'd like to look at some examples of Rhys talking about his own power, the particular way he describes what he was doing with his power while UTM
"I made a web between all of them, actively controlling their minds every second of every day, every decade, to forget about Velaris, to forget about Mor, and Amren, and Cassian, and Azriel." - ACOMAF
"anyone flying or traveling near Velaris would see nothing but barren rock, and if they tried to walk through it, they’d find themselves suddenly deciding otherwise." - ACOMAF
“Amarantha didn’t know they existed. And when someone tried to tell her, they usually found themselves without the mind to do so.” - ACOMAF
We know that it is in Rhys' wheelhouse to make people forget and importantly to make people switch tack when their mind strays towards a subject he wishes to remain a secret. Imagine you wish to tell someone something but suddenly all it slips away and now you're just wondering if you left your oven on. 
So if you will, go on this journey with me, and we say for instance, a mating bond snapped into place for Azriel and Gwyn upon their first meeting, how truly, truly terrified might she have been in that moment. After everything she'd just been through.  
Gwyn says that Azriel "slaughtered them all" 
Could his rage have been something to behold even for Rhys to know what it was? As Ruhn can tell when Hunt goes into a Mates rage in HOSAB?
Could Rhysand have snatched Azriel's mind in that moment, and made him forget? Just tied a little knot in his mind and held onto it all this time?
I suppose a good question is would Rhysand do that, because we know that he could. 
In ACOWAR there's a scene that's brought up frequently in regards to ships and has been gone over quite thoroughly but I'd like to go over some bits and pieces that interest me for this theory however.
The conversation Rhys and Feyre have before leaving for the Hewn City chapter 24.
Feyre feels guilty for entering Lucien's mind without consent, albeit she did this because of her deep concern for Elain. 
'Would you have done it? '
'Rhys considered. Yes. And I would have felt just as guilty afterward.'
Rhys confirms he would go into a friend's mind, and that he would feel guilty for doing so.
He then goes onto assuage Feyre's guilt, determining that she had a good reason to do what she did.  A 'for the greater good' sort of reasoning. 
We see this reasoning resurface in Rhysand in ACOSF where he makes a poor choice in hiding the real risk of Feyre's pregnancy to her. He didnt wish to upset her, and wanted a solution to hand before he informed her. This isn't necessarily about the really poor choice he made more that he believed he had sufficient reasoning. 
To go back to ACOWAR ch24:
Feyre asks if Rhys thinks Lucien and Elain are well suited, he doesn't really give and answer except to say that Lucien is loyal and fiercely so, and then we get this interesting choice of words:
“So is Azriel.”
“Azriel,” Rhys said, “has been preoccupied with the same female for the past five hundred years.”
Not in love with Mor, but preoccupied, distracted by. 
Then immediately afterwards Rhys, who never really tells Feyre what to do, basically asks her not to get involved in Azriel and Mor's business. As though he really takes no issue with his brother being 'preoccupied' with Mor. 
Rhys also does not offer any comment about Feyre's thoughts on Azriel and Elain as a couple. 
As for Azriel's ACOSF bonus chapter, a lot of people where mad at Rhys, either for him interrupting an Elain/Az kiss and meddling in their business or just for the simple fact he seemed to be 'throwing his weight around' a little bit. 
Rhys' surface level explanation of this as a Ruler makes sense, but let's look at a potential different angle. 
"What if the Cauldron was wrong?"
Rhysand blinked. "What of Mor, Az?"
Azriel questions the Cauldron and the first thing Rhys does is to bring up someone he knows Az is preoccupied with, a 500 year distraction to keep him chasing his tail. 
"The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another"
Rhys' face drained of color. 
Rhysand does not pale easily. From my checking, that descriptor for him seems to be reserved for if something really upsets him or freaks him out (like Feyre talking about her death)
So for him to drain of colour, that sentence has to have really really bothered him, guilt perhaps at something he has done? 
We know a mate bond can never truly be broken or go away, but for the males it can "drive them mad" 
Could this be concern over Azriel's mental state not just because of the rash decision to kiss Elain where anyone including Lucien could see, but for what Rhys thinks might happen to a mated male when he does not remember that he is mated or who to?
"You believe you deserve to be her mate?"
This could be Rhys looking for that reasoning, has he done the right thing or made a huge mistake. 
"Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her." 
This seems pretty extreme, unless however you alone understand how truly messy things could become, aside from all the explanation he gives about Lucien, including the blood duel (Which is odd for Rhys to mention as he knows Lucien is Helion's son) 
Gwyn is Nesta's friend. Azriel is already physically spending time in Gwyn's presence, perhaps Rhysand is hoping he'll be able let go soon. How mad you might be at your brother being so close to everything he ever wanted and him fucking it up, even if it you had a part to play in it. You would put your foot down. Hard. 
"So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her."
Where is the: 'Hey brother I know how you must be feeling but dont worry, there must be a special someone out there who loves and deserves you, get out there and look!' ?
The options he confronts Azriel with are, hey what about the girl we all know you're never going to get with or failing that, pay for a sex worker? Seems like Rhys might actually be limiting Azriel to people he believes he won't form an serious relationship with doesn't it?
"Snarl all you want."
"But if I see you panting after her again, I'll make you regret it."
This actually stuns Azriel out of being angry, Rhys doesn't do this sort of thing normally. 
So if you add this up with Rhys saying Elain would have the full support of the Night Court should she wish to reject her mating bond, why would Azriel have to stay away from Elain forever? If that's what she wanted and he wanted. 
Something so out of character for Rhys it shocks Azriel, just to set up a forbidden love trope? 
As mentioned some were pissed at Rhys for all this.
But SJM likes to do this to us, she likes for us to BE ANGRY at characters, and then give us an explanation that breaks our heart or at the least helps us understand later down the line. (If I factor in my long Elain theory we might even be thanking him for interrupting!)
Because Rhys would have done this for Gwyn, not for Az, but to protect her, to try and offer her some peace while she heals.
If this theory where true, I'd like to imagine that he had a conversation with her and let her know that full stop that Az wouldn't try and pursue her unless she was ready wether that be 2 years, a decade or never. 
But again what we have seen is Rhys being down right horrible sometimes, if he believes it's for the greater good, then we usually get the actual explanation for it later. 
Further on in the BC Azriel obviously interacts with Gwyn. 
"For a heartbeat their gazes met. He blocked out the bloody memory that flashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now" 
Did he block it out? 
Or did he just get too close to remembering everything.
Did Rhys yank on that leash?
"I just. . . I know you like to be alone." 
Gwyn most definitely could have perceived that about Azriel, but in theory she also could have asked someone who knows him to tell her about him. 
'Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow. something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch.
But--- sleep. He needed to at least attempt to get some.'
'He wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend, but...'
These buts... These sort of... interrupted thoughts, paired with sense that Azriel isn't entirely sure why he's doing some things. It does give the sense of other forces at play.
I know some people like to go in for the Gwyn is lightsinger theory, personally I don't (I address this in my long Elain theory) Especially with the points at where these thoughts are cut off. 
I know some also like the 'fake bond' theory like Aelin/Rowan/Lyria. Maeve of course having similar powers to Rhys, I'd find it much more likely however that Rhys would use his power to 'hide' a bond for good, than to fake one, for evil. Or even to fake one full stop. 
Mating bonds are powerful things though as we see in ToG even with an altered mind Rowan is still attracted to and still falls in love with his actual Mate.
Does Rhys really have the power totally control everything about Azriel's bond to Gwyn now that he's actually interacting with her? Perhaps they'll fall in love before Gwyn and Rhys fess up to having known all along.
One would think though that Rhys trying to keep a hold on such a powerful and primal force might affect Azriel though...you would expect to see something more than interrupted thoughts, something more physical like oh, I don't know...
Headaches? 😉
Again this is just a theory, theories are fun and we all like to rummage through the text and try and figure stuff out through this long wait. I can't believe it ended up being this long even though I really tired to stick to the topic at hand! Plausible or not plausible? If you got this far, thanks
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Aunt!Yelena x niece!reader headcanons
masterlist
a/n: here’s the second one !! writing auntie Yelena has to be one of my favourite things ever :))
You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work
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Auntie Yelena who was more than ecstatic to meet you when she first heard about you. She was totally overjoyed when she found out that Natasha was adopting a baby girl
Auntie Yelena who spoiled you with gifts ever since you were a baby. Natasha had once tried telling her to stop because her house simply couldn’t take much more stuff, but after she saw the joy it brought Yelena she had given up trying to stop her
Auntie Yelena who always stole you out of Natasha’s arms when she came over. She always wanted to hold you. After Natasha would put you down for a nap Yelena would sneak into your room and hold you while you slept. Natasha caught her once but decided not to say anything. She adored watching her sister love her daughter so much
Auntie Yelena who took you with her when she went to adopt a dog at the shelter. She valued your opinion more than anyone else's
Auntie Yelena who, when she came over, always brought you a gift from whatever place she had been to then. She was always travelling, and her favourite thing was bringing something with her for you
Auntie Yelena who ‘accidentally’ taught you multiple curse words, enjoying Natasha’s face when you blurted one out. Obviously you didn’t know what they meant. All you knew was that your auntie Yelena would laugh when you said ‘fuck,’ and you took great pride in being able to make your auntie ‘Lena laugh
Auntie Yelena who, when you got older, would take you on little road trips around the city. She would simply show up in front of the house and demand Natasha to lend you to her for a couple of hours 
Auntie Yelena who made the best hot chocolates for you when you felt down, and who would make the best mac and cheese when you were sad
Auntie Yelena who didn’t hesitate to drop anything and everything when you called her while upset, and who would fly or drive to you in a heartbeat if you needed her
Auntie Yelena who loved that you loved her so much. Ever since you were a baby you always wanted to sit in her lap and play with her, and when you grew up you still wanted to hang out with her whenever you could
Auntie Yelena who scolded Alexei when he made fun of you once, claiming he was fat and mean and had no right insulting you with whatever he insulted you with 
Auntie Yelena who broke your trust only once, and that was when she called Natasha while you were being bullied in school. Natasha had comforted you while Yelena went on a little house visit and nearly made the poor girl piss herself from fear
Auntie Yelena who was the sweetest person you had ever met, yet made people fear her with a simple glare 
Auntie Yelena who, despite your age, took you to build a bear when you turned 16. She helped you pick out a soft, adorable bear and when you got to the dressing bit she had basically forced you to give it a small black widow outfit
Auntie Yelena who always supported whatever hobby you started, making sure you had plenty of supplies in stock. If you ran out of something she would know before you did, making sure you were restocked before you started another project and missed something
Auntie Yelena who, in the end, loved you more than she loved herself
Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216
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kaylatoonz · 1 day
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Context
I have always loved how Amy always has faith there’s good in everyone even if they don’t believe in it themselves. Most of her allies and sometimes enemies view this as a strength, but what about those that view it as a Weakness who would take advantage of it? Surprisingly I haven’t seen that much content that has someone take advantage of Amy’s kindness and compassion. So what if when Amy first arrived on earth in the SCU someone took advantage of Amy's trusting nature?
(Like her origin in the game) Amy does a tarot card reading that leads her to Earth in search of her hero
She arrived a couple of months before G.U.N. Locate and release project shadow
Unfortunately, G.U.N. are the first humans Amy encounters who gladly accept Amy’s offer to aid on their mission
They were even kind enough to gift her a new outfit and high-tech pack that would be more practical for the “adventure” they’re going on.
In reality, the “gift” was Eggman's old tech that they refurbished to keep new intergalactic arrivals in their control (they were originally going to use it on Shadow once they found him).
The pack on her back is meant to send a controlled shock to keep the chosen subject in line
Sadly By the time Amy discovers that these people are up to no good she is already in too deep, experiencing her first shock at her first act of defiance.
Since then, Amy unwillingly works for G.U.N alongside Shadow (and eventually Rouge too).
Despite the circumstances, Amy remains kind and compassionate toward the humans she works with.
She even won the hearts of some of the more compassionate agents who worked at G.U.N (unfortunately they couldn’t help as much as they wanted to).
She still retains hope that she find her hero, and they’ll put their heads together and get her out of this mess.
Until then, she begrudgingly obeys orders and tries her best to wait out the storm (and maybe try to find her way out).
Shadow is the opposite of Amy, he is a lot colder and sometimes even aggressive towards other humans (especially G.U.N. Operatives).
He just works with G.U.N. For his own means to an end ( like the game shadow has amnesia and his memories have been tampered went to exact his revenge on humanity for Maria’s sake).
Despite his cold nature toward those around him, he forms a genuine bond with Amy Rose (and eventually Rouge too).
Amy is one of the few people Shadow finds comfort and peace in despite her sometimes overwhelmingly bubbly and energetic personality.
He can’t help but be reminded of Maria whenever he catches Amy taking in every nook and cranny of what Earth has to offer whenever they’re on their missions.
G.U.N. Takes notice of this and eventually takes full advantage of this to keep Shadow in their control
Shortly after Shadow was released, Rouge arrived on Earth, her sights set on the legendary master emerald.
Fortunately, Rouge was able to keep her distance (and guard up) enough to not let G.U.N. pull something similar to Amy (much to Amy’s relief).
Rouge and G.U.N. Do strike a deal, if rouge works with them the emerald is her’s (at least it is what they lead her to believe)
The team officially form intending to apprehend Sonic and his friends
Throughout their missions and training sessions, Shadow and Amy's bond grows stronger along with their new teammate Rouge.
Shadow and Rouge form a friendship built on trust and respect.
While Amy and Rouge's friendship is rough around the edges (they bicker a lot), they do have some form of respect for each other (they kind of have a sister relationship going on that neither of them would admit).
Rouge eventually gets curious about what is in it for Amy working for G.U.N. Which gets Shadow curious. they both know Amy is not the type to work for these goons to get something out of it.
Amy hesitantly replies that she wanted to help them out, but things got… complicated, so now she’s here.
Amy doesn’t want to worry Shadow or appear weak to Rouge, nor does she want to get them too involved in her problems.
Shadow and Rouge are suspicious that there’s something more going on between Amy and G.U.N that she’s not telling them.
Sadly, their suspicions are confirmed when one of their missions goes wrong and Amy takes the brunt of the blame.
shadow and Rouge witness firsthand what the pack on Amy’s back is meant for, and they both don't like it one bit
Shadow steps in to stop them while Rouge comforts Amy the best she can
with the confirmation that not just Shadow but Rouge cares deeply for Amy, G.U.N. not so subtly threatens Shadow and Rouge that this could happen again if they aren't so compliant on their next mission.
As Shadow comforts Amy, his hatred for G.U.N and humanity has cemented if it wasn’t already. He promised himself that he would stop at nothing to get Amy out of this place and make every last one of these agents pay. Unbeknownst to him, Rouge had made a similar promise to herself (but not to the full extent of ending all of humanity).
Eventually, the team encounters their target Sonic heroes, which leads to a lot of conflict
Amy is certain that Sonic is the hero that she was destined to meet and that they should accept the help they are offering
Shadow disagrees, feeling that Sonic is nothing but an idiot who can’t save anyone (and besides he didn’t need saving).
Amy is willing to take that chance with Sonic and attempts to accept his help but Shadow quickly intervenes when he notices the two warning beeps and her pack starting to activate.
Before the final warning, shadow grabs Amy (unintentionally sending the message that Shadow is taking Amy hostage to the heroes and pissing Amy off).
Realizing that G.U.N would never let Amy go so easily (assuming that the pack would terminate her if she were to side with the enemy). Shadow decides to take a risk with the heroes.
Before Shadow Chaos controls away with his teammate/hostage, he gives the heroes a good look at Amy’s pack and glares down at the heroes stating “If you’re truly looking for someone to save then pay attention!”
Sonic and Knuckles are enraged by Shadow's cowardly and low action of taking the girl hostage to escape their fight.
That was until Tails showed his brother what unit managed to pick up on Amy.
The brothers are horrified by what could’ve happened if Shadow hadn’t intervened in time. They all agree to take things carefully when trying to help Amy.
Sonic wants to help Shadow reignite after learning what he is willing to do to save Amy (he was just gonna be a tough nut to crack).
Rouge later gives the heroes blueprints on the pack to aid them in safely getting Amy free
Eventually, thanks to the help of Rouge and Tails’ careful planning, they were able to free Amy from their control.
With Amy safe, Shadow finally initiates his revenge against G.U.N and humanity.
Amy isn’t having it, so she confronts Shadow who doesn’t understand why after everything the government/humans have put her through she would still defend them.
She calmly replies that yes, she has experienced the worst of humanity, but she also witnessed the good in humanity with her brief time on earth.
Amy’s heartfelt speech strikes a chord with Shadow, reminding him of his true promise to Maria.
Wanting to make things right Shadow makes a new promise to Amy before aiding Sonic in saving the world.
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nunalastor · 1 day
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Hi! next part of Snow White + Tangled AU (still taking suggestions for a name, I'll probably end up writing a whole fic)
Alastor was losing his patience.
He never really cared about the "King of Hell", but ever since the little man arrived at the doors of Charlie's hotel, it's just been one disappointment after another.
And, of course, he trusts Roo not to give him valuable information! It's always the same with her, she will only give you enough information to work with, only to punish you if she doesn't like the results, or take credit if you somehow end up doing exactly what she wanted.
At least Charlie wasn't a relevant project for her. But it really would have been useful to know her origins, he could have gotten a lot out of that information. Anyway, it's not that that's important now, he's not going to be bitter about it. After all, so far the results of his decision have been satisfactory.
Honestly, there was a time when he thought Roo could be Charlie's mother, but he ruled it out as time went by. It's a relief, motherhood isn't for everyone, and Roo definitely shouldn't be on that list...just like Queen Lilith apparently.
The first time he saw the king was interesting, he tried to attack him as soon as he saw him after a brief conversation with Charlie. It was so fun to see his daughter putting the little man in his place. But then she explained who she had just kicked out of the hotel and it was just disappointment after disappointment.
In their second meeting, the king was no longer going directly to try to kill him, but that did not make him any less calm. He just kept accusing him of Charlie's kidnapping, which is fair, the king doesn't have to believe him and he doesn't have to justify himself.
He suggested to Charlie that, when the king returned with the supposed evidence he had gone to look for, it should be just her and the king. Charlie was just worried that this situation would change something between them, but he dismissed it, nothing has to change.
From that moment on, Alastor's patience has been tested. The king turned out to be like all the rich men of his time, buying people with trinkets, trying to dazzle everyone with their wealth and power, pampering their legitimate children and only throwing a few coins to their bastards if they remembered that they had.
Alastor has kept his distance. Not only does he want to respect Charlie's limits and her possible relationship with her biological father, he also wants to show her that, unlike the king, he can behave like an adult in this situation. On the other hand, the king, every time he sees him, has to make a conscious effort not to attack him either physically or verbally, and that makes Charlie nervous, which amuses Alastor a little, but mostly makes him uncomfortable. He knows that this whole situation makes Charlie tense, and the little king is not helping with his childish attitude (according to his height, honestly).
What ended his calm was seeing how the little king simply seemed to lose his patience just a couple of months later, dismissing Charlie's ideas and trying to take her away. Simply telling her that her whole idea of a charity hotel would be counterproductive because sinners would only take advantage of her, and anyway, it's not like sinners deserve better, they do horrible things after all, like kidnapping innocent babies and taking them away from them families.
And Alastor simply had enough. He doesn't really care what the king thinks of him, he doesn't want to meet him, and the feeling really is mutual at this point, but after all that talk, saying how much he missed his daughter, he hoped the king would take the time to meet to Charlie instead of just pretending like nothing had happened. As if Charlie had not spent almost 100 years, all of her life, living with sinners, as if she had not spent her entire life learning from him and from those who have surrounded her until now.
The king is not entirely wrong, many of those in hell deserve to be there, it is supposed to be punishment for their decisions, in fact, there are those who deserve worse, but he cannot just so easily dismiss the ideals that Charlie formed by seeing sinners up close.
And, of course, he is not a good person, he has never pretended otherwise. In fact, if he had found any other sinner the day he found Charlie, he would have put them in an oven with the same ease that he put Charlie in her crib every night. If he had found any other sinners, he would have boiled them in a saucepan with the same ease with which he put Charlie in the bathtub when she needed a bath. With any other sinner, he would have written a recipe book as easily as he wrote children's stories he remembered so he would have something suitable to read to Charlie. But the truth is that it was not just any other sinner, it was Charlie, a baby that he decided to take care of with the memories of his mother always in mind. The one he found in a basket was a baby, whom he accompanied, stayed by her side, held her when she screamed and cried because of a nightmare or a minor injury. Whom he educated and guided, who he encouraged to make her own decisions, who he taught how to be respected. Who he took to his friend Rosie to make sure she always had a safe place to go. Whom he watched from afar when she played with other children in the Cannibal Town square. Whom he saw grow up while being just as feared and respected as him by her own means. Who tried to defend him when someone who was his friend for 30 years betrayed him and tried to attack her, which immediately ended their friendship.
It is when he feels the presence of his daughter, hugging him from behind, that he realizes that he said all that out loud. It is when he realizes that the king is there, looking at him with a look that reveals confusion, surprise and horror. The king has not moved from his place next to the portal he opened when he tried to take Charlie, but he notices that he is shaking, while he seems to think of something to say.
Alastor sighs, regains his composure as he walks away from Charlie and approaches the king, and with a snap of his fingers he makes two thick books appear. They are copies of a photo album and a scrapbook. He also makes the basket in which Charlie came into his life appear, with the blanket and clothes included. He gives everything to the king and is firm when he tells him to take the time to get to know Charlie, to stop being a king (if he ever was one), to stop being a wallet and start being a father if it's what he really wants.
The king leaves without saying a word, with all the items held firmly in his arms. If among the pages of the books the king finds the note that told Alastor to take care of the baby, with a characteristic signature, well...no one can refute that Alastor could have simply forgotten that it was there.
Two weeks pass, and Alastor feels a chill down his spine, a chill that is supposed to be a caress, supposed to be a reward for a job well done. He's confused, but at least it didn't backfire on him.
A month passes for the king to appear again. He literally just appeared in Alastor's room, looking haggard, exhausted. Alastor supposes that he can let the impertinence slide just for the pleasure that such a pitiful image brings him.
"Can you tell me about my d...can you tell me about Charlie? Please?"
👀
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the-lil-spud · 1 day
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Mama Didn't raise no Bimbo!
Y/n was thrown head first into Hell - like everyone she has to find her own path and she was doing pretty darn good but what happens when she finally comes across the three Vee's who don't necessarily like to share...
Part One / Part Two / Part Three
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This was such a bad idea!
Such a bad idea! How did Angel Dust manage to convince you to do this was beyond you. But here you are gripping the handle of the front door of the Vee’s Tower.
“Oh, I’m just running a little late at work honey, meet me at the tower and we will head to the clubs from there,” you mocked under your breath as you turned the handle. Swear, if that Valentino tries to get you to join a porno you will kill Angel.
Deep breaths. Entering the main foyer, you squint because of all the damn bright lights, screens, and décor. Spying all the cameras you drag your coat closer to your body. No hiding from anyone here. You make your way up to the receptionist desk as instructed by your lovely ‘friend’.
“Hey sugar, I’m here to see Angel Dust, they’re expecting me don’t suppose you could tell me where I should be going could ya?” Giving your best winning smile at the bored receptionist, at her unimpressed flicker of her eyes going over your outfit and hair you could feel the smile start to strain. Like everyone, your appearance changed when you came to Hell, and you considered yourself lucky that you mainly had humanistic characteristics – the fangs, violet eyes, skin as white as snow and wicked pink highlights in your hair you just considered as an extra – it could be so much worse. You have seen much worse.
Smoothing your hands over the coat you let your smile drop and narrowed your eyes at the receptionist. Down here in Hell you were sure others just made situations difficult to be difficult. Actually… that was probably true. They were just the worst down here.
Popping her gum in your face you could feel your eyebrow start to twitch. Bitch. Tapping away on her keyboard she proceeds to ignore you for a few moments before pointing at a sign which told you which floors for what people. Seeing Valentino’s floor, you assume that’s where you should be heading. Thanking the receptionist – though she didn’t exactly do anything but affect your confidence in your outfit – you make your way over to the elevators, getting in as soon as one arrived and jabbing at Valentino’s floor.
Crossing your fingers you wouldn’t meet that particular Overlord, considering the receptionist was a pain in the ass you could only imagine what he would be like and from the horror stories Angel Dust told you – you really didn’t wanna meet him.
Reaching the floor quicker than you expected you straighten out your outfit, slightly regretting the black stilettos but they were the only decent heels you have in your closet for dancing, plus the neon pink on the base matched your accessories and splashes of colour on your dress. You fully embraced the image that you were a bimbo, it helped with tips and your image at work. As a singer and a dancer at one of the clubs on Pride Circle, the dumber you appeared the more people underestimated you. And you just loved it when they underestimated you.
It's where you met Angel Dust, in one of the first clubs that you were working at. Through him you then met Alastor who after hearing you sing a few older songs then allowed you to sing on his Radio Show (on occasion) and from him you then met Rosie who put in a good word for you with your now current boss at one of the more respectable (using that term loosely) clubs in Pride Circle. Which is the only reason why you would enter the Vee’s Tower – you owed Angel Dust a lot this was a small ask.
Stepping onto Valentino’s floor the smell of smoke, sex and sweat hit you like a wall. Flickering your violet eyes around you spied the Spider speaking to the Overlord. Damn. Seeing that the conversation wouldn’t be ending any time soon you huffed under your breath before making your way to them.
“Angel, sugar, you ready to go?” You ask when you reach the two, keeping your gaze on him as from the corner of your eye you see the tall Overlord swivel on the spot. Angel’s eyes connect with yours before trying to hide a grimace.
“Heyyy gorgeous, listen it’s gonna be a little later than we planned I’ve just gotta film one more scene then we can go”, catching the mouthed sorry at the end. Smiling understandingly at him you shrug your shoulders.
“Oh no problemo honey, want me to stay or I can meet you at the club?” secretly crossing your fingers that they’d say to meet you at the club.
“Ah no it’s cool if you stay, right Val? Y/n can stay for the last scene?” Bugger. Turning your winning smile up at the infamous Valentino only to see their stare was focused on you already with an menacing smile pulling his face into a sinister expression which made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end.
“Ah the famous Y/n, Angel talks about you all the time – don’t you baby! Course you can stay and watch. What about if you participate as well, I could get you a job princessa, with those legs, boobs and that pout you are a star waiting to happen. I could get a contract written up in seconds if you want-“He pulls a deep drag from his cigarette and blows it all around so you three were in a cloud of hazy red smoke. Holding back a cough you try to keep the smile on your lips.
“Thank you for the offer, Sir, but I am happy with my job at the moment but as soon as I want a change in career, I’ll let you know”, I reply to the Overlord. A bead of sweat drips down the back of my neck. Valentino’s anger was legendary. To refuse him was to insult him. And you had done all that within a few moments of meeting him. Plus being close to Angel Dust was another factor against you – he was so jealous over Angel.
His smirk grew as he gazed over your outfit. Well, a smirk was better than shouting, right?
“Shame. You could be a star,” another drag of his cigarette before shrugging you off and directing Angel back to the stage. Quickly winking at the spider, you make your way over to a few chairs that were against the wall. Shrugging your coat off you turn to see a few creeps eyeing you up, bloody perverts. Baring your fangs at them you sit down and yank your phone out from your purse.  
A sigh leaves your lips, crossing your leg over the other, you peruse Sinstagram while trying to block out the sounds coming from Angel and the other demons and sinners in the scene. Checking on the progress of a few photos of the outfit that you shared earlier of what you were wearing tonight which you had tagged in Velvette as she was the designer of your dress: a tight black dress with stripes of neon pink, ruffles of the neon around the off-shoulder neckline and other intricate details – it reminded you of Marilyn Monroes pink dress, so you had saved up for months to buy it. The almost velvet material clung to your curves in the most delicious way and the colours just accentuated your hair, skin, and eyes. If no one could tell - you just loved pink and again it helped the Bimbo image you put across.
Brushing the waves of hair out of your face you look up and again see a certain Overlord’s stare focused on you, his own phone clutched in his hand. Careful not to challenge him by looking at him head on you keep your gaze soft and lowered.  The issue with Valentino was he didn’t always accept no as an answer. And you were so not ready to become a porn star. To be honest since arriving in Hell you hadn’t even entertained any one in your bed. More concerned with getting somewhere safe to live, safe(ish) to work and try not to get mauled, raped or murdered every day seemed to take up your energy. Which is why Angel wanted to go out tonight – to try and get you laid. Chuckling softly as you remembered his horrified face when you said you hadn’t had sex in over a year you let your violet gaze glance over to him. Wincing slightly at the position he was in at the moment, which really could not be comfortable, you let your attention go back to your phone ignoring both the Overlord and Angel as a slight vibrate notified you that a certain Vee had liked your post.
Your mouth opens in shock when you see THE Velvette had liked your photo. Heart racing a little you couldn’t control the smile that stretched across your lips, holding in the little squeal you desperately wanted to let out you settled for giving a little excited wiggle in your seat. Or you were until a shadow encased you. Looking up you lock eyes with the main V. Vox. Uh oh. “And who is this lovely lady, Val?”
Sooooo ... for a first chapter what did ya thinkkkkkk?
A03 Link is here
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thefoolishone666 · 2 days
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Kickin Chicken once said
@hiwelcometothemonstersancturary gave me the go to do this, which is mistake one for them, so here is my go at giving them what they encouraged while I pray it works well. And if not...well I at least tried.
* (Refering to Bobby) She is called Captain Heartbeat cause she will squeeze love out of your heart...and blood, but mostly love.
* (After speaking pr-bt for a 2 minutes) You ever forget your first language?
* Mods, take their swimming privileges away and put them in the pool.
* I would go evil, but I am going to follow dad's steps of being good...plus I saw they went shoe shopping so...
* What do you mean I can't seduce myself!?
* (Loud thud off Camera) PERCEPÇÃO DE PROFUNDIDADE!
* Our ship has a pool, an omelet bar, tons of rooms for you to sleep in, one would say that is a cruise, to which I say, fair, but have you seen the plank, cause I am about to get you real familiar with it.
* I heard some demons were touched starved. I got more than enough buckshot to help with that.
* Bubba, reading chat: "Kickin isn't the sharpest knife in the group," Well that is rude...
Kickin: I did eat packing peanuts when I was younger to be fair.
Everyone in room:
Kickin:...Wait is this new information for you?
Everyone: YES!?
* Wonder how many people come on to see me stream thinking "Oh hey, the voice actor for Kickin does streaming," or "Hey is this the official channel for the Smiling Critters show?" And they just come in on me saying something like, "I HAVE BUILT A TO SCALE JOLLY ROGER WITH POPSICLE STICKS!"
* Hey Theo, it's you! (Gets empty bottle thrown at head) Ow.
* White is the color of evil, cause nothing exists in it! Delight taught me that!
* I would cry, but I am too dehydrated to do such a thing. (Goes to drink some water, pauses, puts water bottle back down)
* It is always funny to see people react to my complete indifference to horrible stuff.
* I needed to find a way to get a gambling addiction, so I thought space could have the answer.
* (Seeing Bubba being affected by the blue screen) Bubba, I know you always wanted to become the one thing I love, but this is ridiculous!
* I am just saying revenge is amazing, ok? Yeah, you gain a tremendous amount of regret sometimes, but it is amazing.
* Cool motive bro, still murder!
* (In response to Angel giving them food) It hasn't been that long since I started streaming, it has only been...5 hours...
* This is my favorite bird. (Holds up middle finger before pointing to self) It is the chicken.
* (Wearing VR) The future is today!...I might need it adjusted though.
* Does dying take away time away from my vacation days?
* IT IS ALL A CONSPIRACY TO END ME! IF NO ONE EVER HEARS FROM ME AGAIN, IT IS CAUSE THEY KILLED ME, CHOPPED ME UP, AND FED ME TO THE WOLVES DANG IT!
* Fursuits are getting so good you can now subject yourself to your own form of trauma to fuse into it. Brought to you by Playtime.
* I have seen the internet and honestly, have seen worse. Which is saying alot.
* (Looks at Candy Cat in his lap before looking at camera)...Help. me.
* Theo: You finally did it! Did it help when you imagined it was me you were fighting?
Kickin: Not at all...worked when it was Dogday though.
Dogday: WHAT DID I DO?
Kickin: Hell if I know. As long as it works though.
* (Playing I Expect You to Die, dies trying to do an action pose)...(Starts singing the James Bond theme notes)
* (Reacting to "Unnecessary Feelings") Bubba, I was promised a crime drama, not a reminder that no one in this house knows how to feeling well, including us!
* I would boop you, but I don't want a pirate hook this early in my character development.
* William then preceded to commit several hours of joy, on at least an entire classroom of kids to learn why death does.
* You can have one hit Hoppy...Ah não, ela tem uma cadeira!
* Don't worry, I won't hurt you, I am just going to turn into a nuke to fall on you.
* (Stares at camera while winding music box)
* Chica, you wouldn't hurt your brother, would you? Or would you want me to be you and Foxy's kid, whichever makes you more merciful on me.
* I am here to break the stereotype that parrots can only be pirates and no other reasons at all.
* (Refering to how much money he has in game) $60!? I can finally afford 1 AAA video game! (Pulls up Balan Wonderworld steam page) I am going to buy this one guys!
* Kickin, coming into Crafty's stream: You mind if I borrow a picture.
Crafty: Uh sure...Why?
Kickin, taking one of the monsters: A reminder.
Crafty: A reminder of what?
Kickin: Of who in this family is an actual threat. (Leaves without elaboration)
* Don't make fun of me, I will cry will I beat you up.
* We don't even own a game cube, I just want to find a copy of Skies of Arcadia to display.
* When you get into a certain mindset for so long, it is so jarring to have to go into a different line of think, like you just suddenly ask, "Wait I don't have to ration this sandwich for the entire year?"
* WHY DID I LET THEO TALK ME INTO PLAYING THIS!?
* I am still surprised I recovered so well from all of that.
* What would the others do without me? Minus not having a heart attack everyday.
* I SURVIVED THAT FACTORY FOR OVER 10 YEARS, I WILL NOT LET A SLIDING PUZZLE DEFEAT ME!
* Have good night everyone! I don't remember how I end these...I will make you walk the plank! No, that is not it...
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plumeriacosmos · 2 days
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WAIT i also want a polin au where the featherington sisters have a close relationship, maybe because they all understand what it means to be all daughters of a less than popular barony. With a neglectful dad and a mom putting pressure on all of them, they turn to each other to confide their worries and stuff. It’s just an overall sweet relationship. They don’t show affection in public, since their Mama tells them it was unbecoming to show affection in public. Portia loves her daughters very much, she just has some issues regarding showing affection.
They all probably figured out that Pen is LW, with their relationship being so close, it was easy to figure out who LW is. They didn’t confront or stop her, mostly because they saw how much pride and fun Pen is having with it.
Prudence and Philippa, as the two oldest, dotes on and are protective of Pen (Felicity too if we wanted), because they understand that Pen loves deeply. They can see it through her actions, her kindness and her people pleasing (i.e. her relationship with Eloise). That’s why they’re so concerned when they noticed how much Pen adores Colin, and subtly discourage her from holding those feelings. They know the Bridgertons are bad news to them. They all might be part of the Ton, but they’re different compared to their families.
Prudence always watches Pen and Colin like a hawk, which is kind of why she’s not really married yet. She wants to make sure that Colin doesn’t do any funny business to Pen. So when Pen confesses about what she heard Colin say at their ball and (and also confesses about Eloise and the LW business), Prudence was livid. Was about to march into Bridgerton house and everything. But Philippa, the voice of reason, points out that they don’t have any power compared to the Bridgertons. So Prudence doesn’t and instead starts scheming on how to best protect their little sister.
They also say little lies to Portia, just so Pen can finally wear what she likes. Portia finally gives their opinions some value, since they’re married women at this point. They know Pen hates her clothes, and finally not being under their mother’s thumb, they can finally help Pen in some way.
Anyway, the next season, Pru and Pip finally decides to show just how close they are. Finally married (and recruiting their husbands into being protective of Pen), they do everything they can to run interference whenever Pen is about to have some time with Eloise and Colin.
What they don’t realize, is that Pen is also greatly adored by the Bridgertons, and so clearly wished and expected Pen to join them soon (once Colin pulls his head out of ass LMAO) so they also try to interfere when Pru and Pip tries to take Pen out of talking with Colin.
Honestly, i just want a Prudence and Anthony stand off as both the eldest Featherington sibling and the eldest Bridgerton sibling. I think it would be funny.
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heazueken · 2 days
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Can I believe You? - Part 1
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*ೃ༄ summary: Nanami leaves behind the Jujutsu world fresh out of high school and reader resents him fir abandoning not only you but Haibara too. warning(s): body horror, violence, graphic violence, major character death, angst...lots of angst, mdni pairing(s): nanami kento/reader wc; 4.1k a/n: got the courage to post this hear too but you can find this on my ao3 too! there is a lot of angst in this...just a warning
______________________________________________
“Did I ever tell you that you’re my type, Y/N?” Haibara says your name cheerfully when you set your lunch tray down on the table. A laugh escapes you, finding joy in how brash and unapologetically blunt Haibara was. It was one of the many things you had admired about him.
“And why is that, Haibara?” Geto, Gojo, and Shoko side eyed you two, their ears perking to listen in on the conversation. A blush washes over you, the attention being all on you now and you nervously poke and prod at the food in front of you. Nanami pays no mind, Shoko had decided that he better spend his time massaging her shoulder than listen to you and Haibara blabber on.
“Because, you eat well, you’re strong and you’re super pretty!” You laugh, so innocent, so plain. Haibara felt like such a normal person that he seemed to stick out like a sore thumb as a classmate learning jujutsu. You admired him for his stubbornness to prove people wrong and always study hard, put his own life before your own.
“Well then, if I’m your type, how come you haven’t asked me out on a date?” He smiles and lets you eat a little more before he answers, folding his arms over the cafeteria table.
“I don’t ask out girls who aren’t interested in me back.”
“How do you know I’m not interested in you?”
You watch his eyes flicker to the side at Nanami, then back at you. A silent discussion between the two of you occurs and your cheeks flush in realization. You curse at Haibara has he immediately falls into a fit of giggles, you throw your rice at him, Gojo hears the commotion and helps you empty your plate on him while Shoko laughs, Geto sits there quietly watching and Nanami is scolding the two of you to stop.
“Geto hasn’t been looking so good,” Haibara mentions to you and Nanami. He’s sitting on the stairs in the school hallway and lays his head in his head, sighing. 
“I tried to cheer him up, I’m not sure it worked, though.”
You put a comforting hand on Haibara’s arm, rubbing your thumb over his uniform.
“You tried. That’s the best anyone can do. I’m sure you helped a little.” Haibara gave you a weak, genuine smile and you knew you gave him a little comfort in that moment.
You heard about what happened from Nanami. The mission going terribly wrong, the Star Plasma Vessel - who you learned to be a girl Rika - dead. Assassinated by a man who had threatened their lives, left the both of them on the verge of death, thankfully Gojo was able to use his reverse cursed technique. Geto was left with the sight of watching Rika die right in front of him, pool of blood forming beneath the girl after Geto had offered to take her back home, offered to let her live the life she had deserved. Of course the trauma of that would send anyone into a spiral, you knew of that, and yet, it seemed like no one else could understand why he had been in such a funk. You remember Gojo taking you aside to talk about it, mentioning that he had asked him if anything was wrong, that he looked thin and wasn’t eating. 
“And he…it’s like he forced himself to look at me and I could see that fake smile when he told me he was fine. That it’s the fatigue the heat brings him,” He shrugs his shoulders passively.
“Why didn’t you push him to tell you more?” You demand, trying to meet eyes with Gojo but with the sunglasses it was impossible. You couldn’t see the look in them but you saw his eyebrows slowly come together, creasing the skin.
“Because, I want to believe that he’s actually okay. I want to believe that he’s telling me the truth.”
You and Gojo both know he wasn’t.
“Satoru, he told you what had happened. How could anyone walk away from that without having felt some guilt?”
Gojo didn’t look at you, ashamed, he knew you were telling the truth but he had refused to see it.
“Because we’re the strongest.” He said simply. You couldn’t argue with him.
You saw Geto when you were heading back to your room. He looked sluggish, his feet dragged behind him and his head hung low.
“Suguru,” you said quietly, softly stepping towards him. He raised his head then and you saw what Gojo had described. His lips curled into a smile that did not look like the one you knew so well. This was not the Geto you had befriended so early in the school year. This was someone playing a part, someone who was hiding something, hiding a deep pain that he was keeping from the rest of his classmates. His eyes looked glassy, like he wasn’t even looking at you truly.
“Y/N,” he responds gently. “What’s up?”
Words fell silent against your tongue and you couldn’t seem to form what you wanted to say.
“I….what happened?”
He shrugged. There was a long silence between the both of you.
“One moment I'm standing there with her and the next she’s a bloody heap at my feet.”
The smile still remained on his face and your blood ran cold. The mission had failed. You already knew that but it had explained why you had heard about the Start Religious Group celebrating the death of the vessel. You could not come up with anything to say, you stared at Geto and your hands raised to cover your mouth in shock.
“Suguru-“
“I’ll be fine, Y/N,” he began walking again, the sound of his feet dragging on the floorboards was the only thing that could be heard down the long hallway. You watched him until he disappeared into his dorm before you could finally find the words. Not that they would have given him any comfort anyway.
I’m sorry.
You hadn’t want to use your technique, not when you knew it would harm Haibara and Nanami. But when you saw the curse thrash Nanami into a building did you feel the smoke ooze out of your palms in a desperation that hindered you still. Your eyes widened and your fist clamped around the naginata staff, your eyes caught where Nanami’s body slumped, his weapon laid next to him as you saw blood trickle from his mouth. A rage increased inside you and you readied your weapon, feeling the poisonous vapor enshroud the weapon before you. You had to use it now.
Before you could leap and attack you saw Haibara. Only a flash of him when he ran to Nanami’s side. He lifted him, shaking him and though you couldn’t hear, you could see him frantically yelling for him to wake up. Haibara had one eye shut, blood pooled from his head and over it, his hands were covered in his own blood and you watched him smear it across Nanami’s face as he desperately shook him to consciousness.
The curse roared, its tentacles reached and flashed across the area towards you, but you were quicker. Your blade sliced the tentacle off and the smoke secreting from the weapon soaked itself into the skin of the curse and it quickly began to bubble. The skin grew blisters, they turned plump and pink and the curse took a moment to stare at its large stump before screeching in pain when the blisters burst, puss oozed and more vapor poured out of them. The monster began thrashing, the remaining tentacles swung and destroyed the buildings around it. It screamed obscenities and you rushed forward, slicing another limb off. Your feet were quick, running along another one, letting your blade glide across its green skin and let more spores awake in its path. You glance just for a second to see Nanami finally getting up, pushing Haibara away in an attempt to run and help you fight. You kept the curse further away because your technique was considered a curse, even if humans came into contact with it it would cover their bodies in horrible blisters and eat away at you from the inside. You had learned to channel it through your weapons to make the smoke more precise and less dangerous. But you had to release a puff of the poisonous smoke from your hand to keep the away from your friends.
Nanami screams your name, this monster wasn’t a grade 2 like they thought.
It grabbed you with one of its untouched tentacles, throwing you down to the ground. Your weapon falls from your grasp and before you can register what had happened you hear a sound of bones breaking, skin squelching and what sounded like someone releasing a pail of water across the floor. It was blood.
Haibara stands in front of you. You look up at him, his back to you and you see it. The curse had stabbed right through his body, the limb poking out of his back. Your mouth opens into a silent scream and you can only watch as he vomits blood and more blood and more until his body immediately goes limp.
You don’t remember much. The world seemed to be spinning. You were pulled aside by someone, people in suits and sorcerers more powerful than you finally arrived and you watched them massacre the curse. Your eyes trail to where Haibara had been left lying there, forgotten in the heat of the fight. A flame ignited in you and you fought against the strong arms of what you assumed was another sorcerer holding you back.
“Let me go, let me go!” You screamed. “Haibara! We have to-“
“We can’t! Not yet!” The sorcerer responded, grip becoming tighter on you.
“Get the fuck off me!” Your voice strained. “We have to save him! Let me fucking go!” You thrashed, kicking dirt up with your feet in an effort to get to Haibara. You felt defeated when you couldn’t even wiggle one arm from the person's grasp. 
You saw people with medical masks and long white coats run to his body, placing him on a stretcher and frantically talking to one another as they ran to the vehicle waiting for them. You see Shoko, scrambling outside the car, her face also covered with a mask. She turns to you, catching your gaze and you hold onto it, your eyes begging for some answer. 
Will he be okay?
She shook her head.
You don’t remember how or when you had calmed down but the next moment you were in a car with Nanami beside you. You look over to him and he was staring blankly, blood, Haibara’s blood now dried on his face. He wouldn’t look at you - couldn't look at you.
Everything felt numb.
“That was a first grade case.” The severity of the situation hit you like a damn train in that moment. Your vision became blurry and uneven, your hands grappled to the handlebars of where he lay and the tears dripped onto the shroud. There were dark tear stains riddled across the blue of the fabric and the moment Geto finally, finally pulled it over to cover Haibara’s pale, bloodied face did you crouch and sob with all your might. The tears streamed down your face, falling to your knees and letting your hair trap around your face like blinders, your ears thumped with blood rushing loudly. A sinking feeling fell inside your stomach as you struggled to breathe but more sobs broke out instead. Your stomach began to turn, the world becoming quiet and muffled around you and you didn’t notice Nanami crouching next to you, not until you felt his hand on your shoulder.
Don’t comfort me. What’s done is done. Your comfort can’t bring him back. Don’t comfort me. I don’t deserve it.
The tears dried your throat and you began to retch, they were empty gags but the tears refused to stop even when your body begged for them to. You couldn’t shy away from Nanami’s touch and the way his palm tried to soothe over your back. Your crying didn’t subside until you had passed out.
Haibara was dead and it was your fault.
“Y/N,” Nanami said softly. “It’s okay.” He’s crying too but you don’t see it, can’t hear him when you’re unconscious on the floor.
Everything is black. You’re in a void and all you can see is Haibara's broken, bloodied body on the ground. Several of them littered around your feet, you look around and it’s endless, the bodies, the blood soaking into his uniform and pooling around your feet. Your stomach churns at the sight before you, watching the blood go up and up, rising over the toes of your shoes. You try to scream, but no sound comes out. All you can smell is blood and all you can see his Haibara. Tears stream down your face.
I’m sorry! I’m sorry!
You feel a set of hands on your shoulders, gripping you. You blink your eyes open and the bodies are gone. Except one. Haibara’s standing in front of you, grasping you so tight you think he’ll shatter the bones in your shoulders.
“Y/N,” he doesn’t look right. His face is contorted, blood is pooling out of his mouth and onto the ground. His eye is an empty socket with a cascade of blood running down the expanse of his cheek.
“Why didn’t you save me?” He asks with an eerie frown. You gasp and find your voice.
“They wouldn’t let me get to you! I tried to-“
“You weren’t strong enough. I died because you failed.” He would never say these things. Never. And yet it felt like that truth. Still, you shook your head.
“I did my best! It was a grade 1 curse! I tried to save you! I tried to save Nanami! You-“
“You failed,” He said, every word he spoke blood only poured out, staining his teeth red. “You weren’t strong enough.”
Haibara was dead and it was because you weren’t strong enough to save him.
You awoke in your bed with a gasp, sitting up immediately. Tears stained your cheeks already when the memories came flooding back to you.
“Y/N!” It was Nanami. He had been sitting down beside your bed, you guessed he had fallen asleep judging by the small rim of red around his eyes. Or maybe he had been crying just as much as you have. He reached for you, his hand grabbing yours and the other one going around your shoulder to support you. The room began to spin and little black stars riddled around your field of vision as your head thumped like a drum. 
“Careful, you sprained a few ribs.” He gently said. You looked at Nanami, his face has a look of concern, your heart warmed at the realization that he had stuck by next to you for however long you were unconscious.
“H-how long was I out?” 
Nanami pulled away, letting you lean back against your beds headboard.
“Couple of hours at least. You were talking in your sleep.”
The dream came flooding back to you and you held Nanami’s gaze for a beat, wondering what to say. What had you said?
“I’m sorry…” You leaned back, the ache of your bruised body finally making itself known. “What…what do we do now?” Your hand rubs gently over the bruises riddled over your ribs.
Nanami sat with the question for a bit. Sitting back in the chair beside you and rubbing his fingertips across the wrapped cloth on his arm, blood starting to creep its way to the surface. He’ll have to change his bandages soon.
“We recover and go back to work.”
Your stomach sank, something felt different. The vessel incident, now Haibara…everything seemed to be too much. Like their entire world was crashing down with them.
You’re weak. That’s why. More people are going to die because of your lack of skill. Blood is on your hands because you weren’t strong enough to protect Haibara. 
“Hey,” Nanami said, putting his good hand on your shoulder. You blinked at him, taken out of your egregious stupor. Your eyes met with his brown ones and your heart beat a little faster.
“It’ll be…alright. I think. As long as we have each other, right?”
You always had Nanami and Haibara at your side. Now with him gone your only option was to support Nanami and he support you. You two needed each other now. It was the right thing to do. You nod.
You would become stronger for Haibara.
It got easier, as time went on. Nanami had stayed by your side and you stayed by his as the two of you recovered. 2 months flew by and you two were sitting in your dorm together, still bandaged up but you both were able to eat more. You looked down at your rice, sifting your chopsticks through it.
“I miss him.” You say. Nanami doesn’t need to ask who you’re speaking about and he pushes his hair to the side to get a good look at you.
“Me too.” He reaches over, he smiles, it’s sad and it carries a silent apology with it. He squeezes your wrist in comfort.
“He wouldn’t want us to be sad. He’d want you well fed and healed. Now eat.” You brought the rice to your mouth, eyes still skimming across Nanami’s face as he elegantly finished his food. You noticed he’d grown more, was starting to look more like a man. In just 2 months his jaw had seemed more sharp, his shoulders bigger, hands larger and warm when they touched your healing skin. His hair had also grown…longer.
“When are you going to cut that hair off, hm?”
He turned to you. “What? Is it an eyesore?”
You wrinkle your nose, “Yes, and it’s lame. You look like - what do they call it? A scene kid.” He rolls his eyes as you giggle. 
“Finish your damn food already.”
You always had a crush on him. Even now, when he smiled at you - which you rarely saw him do - did the butterflies release inside you, a laugh released from you and there was a sharp pain in your side - sending you into a coughing fit, you groaned because damn, those bruised ribs fucking hurt. Nanami patted your back, trying to comfort you but it only caused more pain to ache throughout your body. You shove him away, a fit of giggles and coughing and groaning filling the room and you think for a moment how much you had admired Nanami for sticking by you throughout all of this. He had suffered a great loss, too.
Nanami Kento was the strongest man you had known.
Nanami Kento was a coward. 
You hadn’t suspected a thing. Although, he had been starting to keep to himself a lot more as the years passed. It wasn’t particularly out of character for him so of course you were ignorant to the plans he had been setting up ever since Haibara died. Freshly graduated, pride still riddled across your face as you strutted through the halls, chest pumped up and high on the fact that you were Number 1 on the honor roll list. You wanted to share the happiness with your best friend, perhaps get some drinks with him. The thought of it makes your face go hot. You open the shoji door to one of the classrooms that Nanami frequented with you, a smile big and bright on your face.
“Nanami, I-“
Nanami was not there. In his place was Gojo Satoru, leaning against one of the student desks. He adorned his iconic sunglasses, laying further down on the bridge of his nose so you could see a glimpse of his pure sapphire blue eyes. Your smile quickly fades and your shoulders lower. A stone sinks inside your stomach.
“Gojo, what-“
“He left.”
You immediately ask, “Who?” The air became suffocating when Gojo pushed himself off the desk and walked closer to you. His footsteps echo across the room and he looks at you with an empathetic look and you know his answer. It feels as though a curse has wrapped its spindly fingers around your throat when Gojo finally answers.
“Nanami. He left this morning. Told Yaga that he was leaving jujutsu high.”
No. No, that’s not right. That can’t be right. The feeling on your throat felt tighter, pins and needles pinched the inside of your esophagus and your eyes began to burn, tears threatening to resurface. What used to be such a drafty, cold room began hot, too hot. There was no storm and yet you heard thunder and lightning, it felt like the walls around you were crumbling down. A tear threatened at your waterline and you blinked, letting it fall down your cheek. Your stomach squeezed and it made you stumble slightly.
“Y/N-,” Gojo grabbed your shoulders, supporting you against his side.
“Hey, I’m sorry.” You couldn’t focus on the sound of his voice, only mumbling to him so he’d know you at least still acknowledged he was there. He had an arm around your shoulder and grabbed onto your wrist with his other hand, holding you steady to guide you to one of the desks. You slumped onto the seat, your mind running through all the things Nanami had said to you. Promising that he’d stay by your side. That you would stay by his. Your throat began to burn again. Your hand tightened into a fist.
No, you could not. Not in front of Gojo. Not even in front of yourself could you cry anymore. It didn’t do anything - only caused a headache, made you feel sick to your stomach, had you on the floor heaving and gasping, hoping for it to end. It only showed the weakness you had shown when you had seen Haibara dead beneath the shroud. Gaining control of your emotions, releasing them through weapons, training your body until you were throwing up and your muscles ached was the only way you knew how to express the feelings that you held close to yourself. You had to get ahold of yourself. You slammed your fist on the desk in front of you and Gojo cocked his head in curiosity. 
“Where did he go?” You finally ask, hiding your face in the palm of your hand. Gojo was silent for a moment, you glanced at him. He had pushed his glasses all the way up the bridge of his nose so you could not meet his eyes. You could tell by the way he shuffled on his feet and his hands slid into his pockets that he was almost anxious to answer you.
“He, uh, went into business, I guess? Salaryman.”
A salaryman. Pathetic. Rather than protect people from curses and carry on Haibara’s legacy he decided to leave that behind to pursue a life of money and long hours in a stuffy cubicle. Standing around with other men in suits who only spoke of politics and how much wealth they had. He’d rather dedicate his life to a big company. Just like that, he ran off like a fucking coward. The sadness that had settled inside you boiled into a fiery anger, your hands clenching and immediately getting up. The chairs legs scrapped across the floor in a loud and screeching sound and you pushed it back into place with a force that was so great you were almost worried you’d break the wood beneath your grip.
“Y/N, I’m sorry about him. I tried to tell him that you would appreciate to be told but he didn’t want to.”
“Didn’t want to?” Your anger burned your skin, “He didn’t want to tell me that he was abandoning the school, abandoning the people out in the world that need saving.” You took a deep breath, “Abandoning me?” Abandoning Haibara.
He was running away like a coward. Hatred seeped into your anger and spread like the disease ridden smoke that oozed from your weapons. Gojo didn’t say a word because there was nothing else to say, so of course he stood there with his mouth a straight line, shoulders still and hands at his side now.
“Goodbye, Satoru. Thank you for telling me.” You couldn’t direct your anger at Gojo, he didn’t deserve it. You needed the training room, you needed to feel the weight of your weapon under your grasp and the blisters that awakened from the strain of the wood staff, to feel sweat trickle down your forehead and the satisfying ache of your muscles.
Nanami had been the strongest, sweetest man you had known and he had turned into a coward. Perhaps you and Haibara never mattered to him. You hoped to never see him again for the heartbreak would be too great.
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acourtofthought · 1 day
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Would you still consider it a celebration if Gwynriel’s book is next, bc it at least confirms endgame couples?
I will be very happy for Gwynriels and very relieved that it will help lessen the ship wars though I think I'll still feel disappointed.
I want Elucien to happen but I also adore Elain and Lucien as individuals so an Elucien confirmation isn't the entirety of what I want for them.
Az and Gwyn absolutely deserve a HEA and their own healing arcs but there is something to be said for the fact that right now, they are surrounded by love even without a relationship. Yes, they have their own internal struggles but they have a really strong support system, people that have their backs, that encourage them, that believe in them. Az and Gwyn both have their found families but neither Elain or Lucien do.
Elain and Lucien are regularly pushed to the side in favor of the other characters. I understand why that is, SJM has to stay on course with the narrative that they still need to find the court where they'll thrive, but in the meantime that has resulted in them being misunderstood by the others. It results in others speaking for them, the others not encouraging them or helping them find their powers. Hell, Feyre has known about Lucien's real father since ACOWAR and it's almost two years later yet she's still letting him wander around aimlessly thinking he has no place to go.
A Gwynriel book being next means we're going to have yet another book of Elain floating around the River House with no real purpose. Lucien drifting between Spring and the Human Lands while Tamlin remains depressed which means Lucien will feel the effects of that. Elain again not having the chance to have a POV on how she's feeling about the loss of her father, being made, Graysen's rejection, Az's rejection, how Nesta and Az believe she shouldn't be allowed to do anything dangerous. If a Gwynriel book takes 6-9 months, that means nearly three years will have passed from when Elain will have been forced into the Cauldron, given powers from the Cauldron that she still hasn't fully explored and hasn't been given help on training, a confirmed mating bond that remains unaccepted and unrejected, and we will have never had a single person actually ask her how she feels about any of that outside of Feyre's "you couldn't say a single word to him?"
I will be happy for Gwynriels but how can I personally be super excited when that means my two favorite characters will once again suffer for another 6-9 months without having the same support system in place that Az and Gwyn already do?
Gwyn and Az might not have romance yet but they are respected and loved by their friends and we've witnessed that on page. Meaningful moments, moments where their found family have gotten personal with them and asked them to get personal in response (though Az is kind of terrible in that area, we've seen Cassian and Rhys at least try).
Lucien has "friends" in Vassa and Jurian but we've never actually seen that connection, we're just told it's there so we have to assume it is.
And when he tried to open up to Feyre, she made fun of him.
Elain has "friends" with the wraiths but again, we're just told about it rather than witnessing moments that make us actually feel it. And yes, her sisters love her but they don't try to connect with her (Feyre only thinks of her as a pleasant companion).
And the IC, while friendly enough with Lucien, don't necessarily embrace him with any kind of true respect. There's always this underlying current of "can we trust him?", "what can he do for us?" And of course we know Az has issues with him.
The need to prove that both Elain and Lucien belong somewhere other than where they currently is starting to feel a tiny bit overdone to the point that it's a bit cruel, and while that to me would be a perfect time to end their suffering, I can only imagine what another book of that would look like.
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xoxoavenger · 2 days
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! 🎁🎈🎂🎉🎊 I loved Try Me (Matt Murdock x Reader), I was wondering if maybe you could write a sequel? I could see an intimate moment where she’s feeding him the soup she made and taking care of him, potentially with the hilarity of Foggy finding out he’s got two super powered friends
thanks! hopefully this is what you were looking for, I had fun writing it!
Ask Me
pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
word count: 1099
warnings: none
part 1
birthday masterlist main masterlist
"I can't believe you're Daredevil." She mutters as she ladles the soup into a bowl. She made a broth more than a soup because she didn't have time to cut the vegetables, but it'll do the trick. She also didn't know the extent of Matt's injures, and she didn't want him to have trouble eating anything. "Does Foggy know?" She asks as she brings the bowl over to the couch.
"Yes," Matt chuckles, but his teeth are clenched in pain. She kneels next to the couch and she is still shocked by his injuries, even though she's already seen them. He has a large cut across his chest, and resists the urge to touch it.
She watches Matt try to sit up, but he's clearly in too much pain. She puts the soup on the ground in favor of helping him up. She tries not to let her pulse rush as she touches his bare back and bicep, pulling him up gently until he is sitting up enough to eat.
"Here, let's get you some food." She tells him, spooning some broth and then carefully helping him eat some. It's so quiet in the apartment that she swears she can feel her own heart race as she feeds Matt. They're close, and her brain is reeling with the thought of how Matt, and blind man, can be a vigilante.
"I think that's good." Matt groans when they're about three fourths of the way though the bowl. She gets up to put the bowl away and grab a warm, wet cloth.
"How are you Daredevil?" She asks, sinking down to her knees again and beginning to wipe off the blood around his wounds.
"Are you asking if I'm actually blind?" He questions, but he's smiling, so she can tell he's joking. 
"I know you're blind, Matt." She says with a small sigh. She's seen his unfocused eyes too many times to think he was just preteneding. 
"All my other senses are heightened." He tells her, tensing as she begins to wipe a big, deep cut. She hopes that soon her healing food will kick in; she's never seen it help on this level, and she's worried it won't work as well as Matt is hoping it will.
"So, you can hear really good?" She asks, wondering what exactly that means. He shrugs, smiling a little bit.
"And smell, and taste. And feel. I have to have specific sheets because of how sensitive my skin is." He's feeling better, she can tell, and it makes her smile.
"How did figure it out?" She asks quietly. She's had these powers ever since she can remember, but she'd never told anyone and no one ever figured it out either. This is a first, sharing a gift, and she can't help but feel a little scared.
"That your food could heal people?" He clarifies. She almost nods, but then catches herself.
"Yeah," She confirms.
"You asked me what happened again the day after you first gave me the croissant, as if you knew it should have gone away. And I usually have accelerated healing anyway, but not that fast. You wouldn't have known that." He's starting to relax more, and she knows he needs to get some sleep soon.
"You wanna move to the bed?" She asks, putting the cloth down and preparing to move him. Before he can answer, Foggy comes stomping back in.
"So both of my best friends are super heroes?" He yells, throwing the drugstore bag in their general direction. Y/N's eyes widen as Foggy walks to them.
"I am not a super hero." Y/N clarifies.
"I wouldn't classify myself as one either." Matt interjects, a hand out to stop Foggy's rant. It does nothing, and Foggy soldiers on.
"You can feel, hear, and smell things no human should be able to feel, hear, and smell." He points at Matt, who raises an eyebrow. "And you can heal people with your food, that you've been feeding me for months!" Foggy moves to Y/N, and she just shakes her head.
"Have you ever wondered why you haven't gotten sick in months?" She asks, and he just scoffs.
"That proves my point!" He screams. Y/N and Matt shake their heads, Matt smirking.
"Foggy, neither of us are superheroes. You don't need to freak out." Matt tries to calm him down, but Foggy just gets more worked up.
"Are you kidding me? You could be Avengers for all I know!" Foggy grabs the bag that he had thrown and begins to get some of the bandages and Neosporin out to help Matt.
"Oh my God," Y/N groans, rolling her eyes and putting her head in her hands. Honestly, Foggy freaking out was kinda funny, but she isn't sure if he's being serious now or not.
"We're not Avengers, Foggy." Matt chuckles, and Y/N begins to put bandages over Matt's injuries.
"Well I just don't know that, do I?" Foggy looks over at the pot on the stove, walking over there quickly. "What did you make?"
"Just a quick broth. I wanted to get Matt something quick." She tells Foggy as she begins to focus on the task at hand.
"Is this why I haven't gotten paper cuts?" Foggy asks as he ladles a little soup out for himself.
"It doesn't make you skin extra strong, Fog." Matt tells him as she continues bandaging him up. Her hands brushing his skin make Matt want to crawl out of his skin in a good way, which didn't make sense until this very moment.
"Did I hurt you?" Y/N asks softly when he tenses.
"No," He mutters, putting a hand on her wrist to stop her. "It's okay, I think the big ones are taken care of." He just wants to lay down and sleep it off now, but he wants to ask her one more thing.
"Let me help you to your room." She offers, and together, with him leaning on her, they make it to Matt's room.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asks as they sit down. He can feel the heat begin to flush her cheeks, her heart beginning to race. He's worried still that maybe she feels uncomfortable until she responds.
"Working." She thinks she's funny, and Matt chuckles.
"Do you want to go to Josie's with me tomorrow night?" He asks, and she ducks her head and smiles.
"As long as my boss lets me off on time." She says, nudging him with her shoulder.
"I'll talk to him." He tells her, both of them smiling hard enough that their cheeks hurt.
//
tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @thefandomplace  @mcueveryday @icequeen1371 @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch
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luciuscaelus · 2 days
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I wanna share my theory of No Longer You with y’all. (This would be part one. And the post may get a bit long I’m sorry)
First, let me ask you a question (which has been asked a lot): had Teiresias really helped Odysseus?
I want to make a little analysis before I put my conclusion here.
From Odysseus’s POV, every word that Teiresias had just said is against him: Teiresias said, “There is a world where I help you get home, but that’s not a world I know.” Then Odysseus replied with a “What™️?” (Ok, think about it: Circe asked him to there might be a way to evade him, there might be a way to get home.” And she instructed him to visit Teiresias, and now Teiresias told him that he’s not gonna help him? Odysseus was having a hard time accepting the truth.) Then Teiresias related to him all these things he saw, (and remember we’re look at it in Odysseus’s POV), and it’s bombarding Odysseus so hard, that it goes like this: “your romance is past; your men is sacrificed (it’s singular nevertheless); you’ve been (or will be) betrayed time and again; your brother is dead (Polites); you’re on the brink of death; and then you died; a man gets to make it home alive, but it’s not you.”
This is why Odysseus replied, “This can’t be. We’ve suffered and sailed through the toughest of hells and you tell us our efforts for nothing?” (It’s like, “Impossible. You’re telling me that everything we’ve done is meaningless cuz in the end it’s only a man who’ll make it home, and he’s not even me???”)
Teiresias continued, (the following is still in Odysseus’s POV) “Your palace is covered in red—your royalties are all dead; the dead people are men who believe you’re long dead��they’re dear to you, and now they’re all dead; your wife is with someone who’s haunting her, someone who has killed all of those people—he’s gonna take possession of her.”
Odysseus can no longer suppress his anger, “WHOOOOOO?!”
And Teiresias repeated his words again, making Odysseus think that everything is ruined. This is why Odysseus is spiraling, cuz he’s having such a turmoil, and an urge to avoid this kind of future at all costs, with whatever it takes.
But we see things a bit differently.
We see the song of past romance as their long waited reunion; we see the sacrifice of man as a price for him to get home; we see the betrayal as the weakness of his crew that led them to their own destruction; we see him dying but know that he’s not going to die on his way home; we see a man who gets home alive but no longer him cuz he has changed (and a little reference to his disguise). We knows that Teiresias was telling the truth, but from another perspective. We know that it’s him who’ll slaughter the suitors and leave his palace covered in red; we know that the men who had long believed he’s dead are those suitors who woo the presumed “widow” of Odysseus, and we know that the man who is haunting, the man with a trail of bodies, is none other than Odysseus himself.
We know Teiresias was trying to warn Odysseus about his changes, and Odysseus misunderstood him.
Odysseus tried to prevent everything from happening, as the meme goes, “Someone is going to do the killing. I’ll ensure that someone is me.”
So Odysseus continued to change, precisely one song later, and he finally became the one in Teiresias’s vision.
And everything did happen according to Teiresias’s visions.
He tried to avoid the inevitable, but it’s he who makes the inevitable happen, though not precisely as he thought it would be.
It’s nothing someone else who would do the killing. It’s himself all along. Everything is directed towards himself.
Yep, see the pattern here? It’s a topic so well known that no one could’ve missed it in their mythological reading. It’s about fate.
As in one of the most famous literature works, Oedipus Rex.
A work which also involves the appearance of a man, who was none other than Teiresias.
You see, Teiresias was trying to warn Oedipus that he would find the criminal in himself, that he himself was the murderer he’s looking for. Oedipus tried to denied the words, tried to inflict all these curses upon the murderer he sought, but in the end, it was all directed towards himself.
And as audience (readers to be exact), we know that Teiresias was telling the truth for the entire time.
The Teiresias in Epic the musical isn’t the Teiresias in the Odyssey. It’s the Teiresias in Oedipus Rex.
Now, let’s answer the question. Had Teiresias truly helped Odysseus? Yes, from a certain point of view. Teiresias was the catalyst that makes Odysseus reconsider his own actions, and eventually become the “monster”, to fulfill the prophecy of “no longer you”. As in Oedipus Rex, Teiresias’s hints had led Oedipus to a research on his own past, and eventually discovered that he was the murderer, who had fulfilled the prophecy of the family of Laius.
This parallel is, in my opinion, what makes Epic!Teiresias even more fantastic than Odyssey!Teiresias.
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