#until ive worked through most of what I currently have

[seeminglydark]

How did Caro go about figuring out their gender identity when they were on their own? You mentioned that they tried "they" and "he" pronouns before settling on "they" - can you talk about that more?

Sure can! In case theres some reading this who may not have read my comics or know the background but stumbled on my art on accident, ill give a little breakdown of their journey. Caro grew up in a really small town with really restrictive parents. They start out knowing they are not a girl. but not really having any idea what that means exactly, and not having access to the resources or a safe place to find out. They start out using he/him because at the time (16 in most of the stories i show them in their teenage years) they arent actually aware theres more of a spectrum than just a binary, they think being a boy is the only way to not be a girl. Their friend, Sully, while being openly gay and having a bit more of an idea about some things, doesnt know much about gender expression or gender-queerness either, so he does what he can to support what they both think is the right fit. apparently neither if them thinks to go to a library. After sully leaves, Caro is left to struggle on their own. They know they are trans, but they are still nervous about exploring things without someone holding their hand, ptsd from extremely intense helicopter parents perhaps and being kicked out for knowing at the very least, they arent the girl everyone always forced them into. They meet their current agent, Goldie, somewhere around 20 years old, at this point they have not revealed their face or gender even in their podcast (for those who listen, ive kept those things very vague since its supposed to be canonical with their life journey). Goldie encourages them to explore more what feels right to them and helps them get in touch with gender affirming resources, 'He' felt close, but it was never really that aha yes its me! moment. They learn about nonbinary, genderfluid, etc through research and help from other people in the community they meet through Goldie, therapy resources and also people they meet via their podcast. They actually do try out a few things, canonically they go from she to he to genderfluid (any pronoun) to they, which feels the best for them. present day Caro doesnt mind 'he' either, they just mostly stick with They. i WILL be exploring this in the podcast, so that story will be told in more detail as time goes on as well. Bonus answer: the reason why i wrote their journey like this, is because Caro is how i explored MY gender identity. They started out as a tool i used to try on different hats and research in a safe space (a fictional character), meet and talk with people to find what gender expression worked best for me, also going from she to he to fluid (any) to nonbinary (they.) i did not have restrictive parents or come from a small town, but im in my 40s, and there wasnt a lot of resource available where i grew up for trans kids in the 90s. i knew i wasnt a girl, and for me, boy seemed like my only other option until i learned that gender is not a binary and i actually had many ways i could go, until i found what felt right to me. and honestly, it was as simple as someone calling me 'They' in passing because they werent sure how to refer to me. Hit me like a ton of bricks. I was in my mid thirties and frankly, it was so relieving to finally have a pronoun that felt like ME! I think perhaps it was as simple for Caro as well. Unforch I cant give you a solid answer as to WHY they felt right for me or Caro. i just know it did, i think perhaps that an individual feeling for everyone who is figuring things out. Some people just KNOW, and others like me, know *something* and find out what the means for them along the way. <3

#rj rambles #that moment when you just go oh... #it all makes sense now #yes that is me! #gender stuff #personal stuff #character stuff #two gender tales for the price of one #long answer im sorry i ramble a bit

[historyslittlebish]

heyy i was just wondering if you could do a baldwin iv x reader fic where the reader sings/reads to him until he falls asleep? extra fluff pleaseee. thank youuu.

p.s. i love your writing xx

a/n: thanks for asking, I've been allowing this to sit in my inbox for a bit so I apologize for the wait (-_-). Also I'm doing fem reader because I felt like it :)

===========================================

Warning: f!reader, mentions of family and having a child, fluff, slight angst

Pain was a constant in Baldwin's life.

Pain was in many different forms. The pain of not being able to be like other boys in his past years or not being able to be one of gods greatest, being forced to bear the brunt of such a disease.

But the worst pain is not being able to love his wife like any other man would, not being able to bear am heir for the kingdom, not being able to have the family he would have liked.

At the current time, pain was coursing through his aching body and to his head after spending most of his time arguing with his sister's husband.

He slowly trudged through the dimly lit halls, wanting to arrive quicker to his quarters to see his beautiful wife waiting in bed.

As he came closer to the doors and slowly entered the room and saw his wife was nowhere to be found. Baldwin sighed as he continued anyways. Reaching over to the side of his bed to dress in his sleepwear before retiring for the night.

As he finished putting on the robe he slowly reached up to his face and carefully took off the iron mask and set it aside near his end of the bed.

He lowered himself onto the plush and soft bed and allowed his aching bones a relief from the days work.

As he closed his eyes and took a few moments to breathe, he heard the doors to the bathing areas open. His head turned to see his wife, freshly out of the bath braiding her h/c hair and in her sleep wear.

"My love." He breathed out. Baldwin had always found his wife stunning, no matter what she did, what she wore, or what she looked like.

"How is my sweet husband doing?" She chuckled. Baldwin groaned as he layed back down resting on the comfy pillows.

"All day has my mind been on you, my angel." He sighed as he stared at the ceiling. Y/N plopped down onto her side of the bed and scooted over to her dear husband, gently laying a hand on his chest and looking at his face with love and adoration.

"I can sense your unease, my heart.." She said as she sat up in a more comfortable position, patting her lap as an invitation to Baldwin. Baldwin gladly accepted and carefully rested on Y/N, cuddled up to his wife's embrace.

Baldwin sighed as he nuzzled into her touch, being content with spending time with his wife.

"Would..you like me to sing for you?" She asked out of the blue which made Baldwin look up in surprise, that surprise quickly switching to a peaceful look on his face. "Please do, my love, I need something to help me fall asleep after dealing with my duties today." His soft and sweet voice made the queens heart flutter.

Y/N began to hum a small song as she gently stroked his head and back, allowing quiet but beautiful words to flow from her mouth, a soft and graceful melody that Baldwin loved.

He wished he could hear more but his slumber won the battle, the sweet melody lulling the man to sleep, allowing him to rest in his little dream world..

a/n: I apologize if its short and sloppy but I'm like super sick rn and my head has been aching for 2 days straight and I had a super hard time focusing because of how light headed I was Q.Q

#history blog #historical blog #history #thanks anon! #anon ask #historical figures x reader #king baldwin iv #history x reader #king baldwin x reader #kingdom of heaven #koh #king baldwin x you

[youngpettyqueen]

it is inevitable that I will at some point crochet Radar's teddy bear

#mash #not anytime soon but at some point #im currently working through my big yarn stash and im making a point to not buy more #until ive worked through most of what I currently have #a lot of it is gonna go towards making toques to donate to schools #since those make up quickly and it gets super cold here so kids always need hats #im currently working on a rainbow shawl for myself #im gonna frog some WIPs and prolly make hats out of the yarn or maybe something else idk #I have. a lot of yarn #I do not have the colours necessary for Radar's bear #but when I start to take on new projects involving purchasing yarn. I will make him #at least I can get tons of references of the bear as opposed to Hawkeye's cardigan

[smuttysabina]

"I am" a Bitch

(Rei x Male Reader, 3.3k Words) Tags: Pretty Little Risky Baddie, What A Brat, Wow She Is So Spoiled, I Sure Hope She Doesn't Get Her Butt Stretched Out, Anal Sex, Brat Taming, Lots Of Complaining, Rough Sex, Too Much Teasing, Chaebol Obliteration

Rei is a spoiled brat. Like most of IVE, she had been pampered until her pretentiousness had swollen to absurd heights; her every whim was to be fulfilled without worry of the consequences. She fully expected that her demands would be followed, especially those pertaining to the bedroom. Though Rei was not the worst of the bunch, her sexual appetites were still incredibly skewed in her favor; the pleasure of her partner was very much so beneath her notice. So she was rather unforgiving when her "lover" failed to satisfy her obnoxious orders, but not in an enjoyable way. Perhaps you should have known better, but truly, who could blame you for dumping the fattest load of your life balls-deep inside of Rae's precious asshole?

You had mostly known what you were getting into when you applied to work for IVE, every Kpop group had its own distinct quirks regarding the hired help. Itzy were renowned for their rapacity when dealing with the "interns", and their older sisters of Twice were famous for their fetishistic forced-breeding schedules. Le Sserafim were a popular choice, mostly due to their extremely laid-back and open attitude towards sex. Positions at Blackpink were the most sought after of course, though they remained permanently open, their turnover rate was less than a week. And IVE... well IVE were notorious for treating their employees like utter garbage. Which was hardly unusual if truth be told, except for the fact that this mindset extended to include most of the staff, not just the sex pets. It was by unwritten agreement amongst idols that the more integral staff members were to be left unravished; after all, it is difficult for a music company to function when their song writers are too busy pumping the idols full of cum all day to write anything. Most importantly however, the cleaning staff were to be left entirely unmolested; if not for those brave souls, the number of injuries caused by slipping in puddles of sex-fluids would skyrocket. Even that insatiable goddess Jennie, who would fuck almost anything with a pulse, would greet the janitors with a bemused smile before continuing to drain whatever meat-dildo she was currently sending to heaven.

Unfortunately, IVE had no such distinctions; if Gaeul wanted to have the producers lick her pussy all day, then that's what they did. It was a dark miracle that the group managed to continue putting out comebacks, let alone the sort that would be astoundingly popular. So to say that the atmosphere at the IVE mansion was a bit stressful would be an understatement. But all of that negativity was on the back of your mind when you showed up for orientation at the mansion; your adoration for IVE drowning out any concerns you may have felt reading up about them. Led through a tastelessly expensive entry hall, you and many other new hires were ushered into a drab side-room for your training. After only a perfunctory introduction though, you were seamlessly sorted into being an assistant for one of the girls; and sent on your way. You are directed to a large, stately bedroom, its footprint greater than most people's entire homes, its door embossed with its owner's name. The debris of an artist occupies an entire corner of the vast room, painting materials stashed haphazardly alongside expensive electronic drawing devices. The bathroom fills the rest of that half of the room, an opaque wall covering what looks to be a standing shower as well as a sizable hot tub. The sleeping area is conjoined with the living area, cluttered with clothes, books, and entertainment devices; with an enormous television planted in front of a deep couch. The bed is sturdy, dowered with an expensive mattress and covered with an eclectic collection of blankets; and laying upon it is the owner of this gilded cage: Rei.

The idol rests upon her stomach, delicate feet kicking in the air above her head, perusing her phone with every appearance of absolute boredom. She gives you unhappy glare as you approach, her heavily-lidded eyes showing you nothing but contempt as she takes in the details. Rei lets out a petulant sigh, "So you're my new assistant huh, why do I never get the cute ones? Whatever, drop your pants, let's see what we're working with here." You hesitate at this bizarre and sudden demand, only complying after she irritable motions for you to proceed, "Hmmph, I guess you'll do, at least you don't have a needle dick. Please tell me you aren't one of those premature guys, I swear most boys have zero endurance. What? Put that thing away, I'm tired of looking at it already!" Blushing furiously from Rei's barbs, you haul your pants back up and wait for further instructions. After several minutes of pointedly ignoring you, she finally deigns to glance back up in exasperation, "Well don't just stand there idiot, do something useful like... cleaning or something? This place is a mess!" Which, to be fair, it absolutely was. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly, towers of empty food cartons were everywhere, all manner of trash was scattered about, and sticky stains on the carpet were more common than clean portions.

So you get to work, while Rei lounges about on her bed, yelling dubious advice and shrill instructions at you while you labor. Her phone either blares annoying videos, except when she is video-chatting with her fellow idols; in which case she yammers away just as loudly as the bitches getting railed in the call. And of course, she masturbates constantly, her fingers squelching away beneath her sweatpants as she watches her friends engaging in all sorts of sexual activities. That or porn; and if you are honest with yourself it's difficult to tell the difference between the two. Not that Rei takes kindly to be watched during her "Private Time", nor the fact that the sight and scent of her pleasuring herself has an arousing effect on your own genitals, "You fucking pervert, stop watching me! Ugh what kind of assistant are you? And are you getting hard again? Stop that! I didn't say you could get horny, so stop looking and keep cleaning!" An attitude which was annoying in the extreme, especially since it was a touch difficult to bend over with a hardon bulging out of your pants. Your irritation only grows as Rei continues to rain abuse on you for doing what you're told, particularly when she went into hysterics when you got around to picking up and sorting the massive pile of underwear heaped against a dresser. You are starting to see why IVE had be having trouble retaining their staff...

After several grueling hours of labor, you finally finished restoring order to at least one portion of Rei's expansive living area; and so lay down to take a break on a couch. Not five minutes had passed before you were being poked awake by Rei, scowling down at you with her hands on her hips. Who haughtily announces that she was going to take a bath, and that she required assistance; now. You groan before hauling yourself after the idol to the bathroom section, where you are stunned to find her stripping carelessly in front of you. You stare at Rei in shock, your foul mood entirely dispelled by the magnificent sight before your eyes; she merely sniffs as you gaze at her. Her surprisingly moderate bust perks boldly outward, the soft curve of her hips descending towards a deliciously full ass, her lithe legs supported by her delicate feet. Now this made her earlier abuse almost worthwhile, surely such a goddess could be allowed a few flaws? Surely it was her due to be given such slavish attention, surely you had deserved such ill-treatment for not paying proper homage to Rei? The illusion of divinity is shattered however, when Rei responds to your adoration with scorn, "Ew, could you not look at me like that, it's weird. Also, get naked already, didn't I tell you to listen you moron?"

So you gingerly remove your clothes, wincing as you strain your sore muscles, and by the time you are finished Rei is already standing in the luxurious hot tub. With her hands on her hips, she gives you an exasperated look, and you scramble up into the bath to avoid another irritating tongue-lashing. You sit down with a sigh, decompressing in the soothing warm waters, water-jets massaging your aching back in a most pleasant fashion. Your momentary calm is cracked somewhat when Rei proceeds to plop down into your lap, her ample bottom squishing up against your groin as she reclines against you. You are rendered speechless by her sudden intimacy, and surprisingly, she is just as quiet. Rei seems content to use you as furniture as she relaxes, and in this moment of tranquility you take in your surroundings in more detail. A sprawling plethora of bottles precariously perch on the further edge of the hot tub, while the rim to your right is taken up entirely with sexual accessories. The bathroom area itself was relatively clean, but clutter was gradually overrunning every available surface; most noticeable was the trash can overflowing with condom wrappers, Rei was obviously a healthy girl...

Rei starts slightly as you harden, but otherwise seems content to ignore the fact that your cock is currently digging into her butt. She wriggles a little to reposition, then relaxes once more, until eventually she sighs and stands up out of the water. She glances back at you, "Your size?" Rei asks as she reaches towards the boxes of condoms. Nodding at your answer, she pulls out a string of them and tosses them at you before ordering you to close your eyes as she fiddles with some sort of tube. You hear Rei let out a soft curse, "Ugh, it's so cold..." then water churns and she grumbles at you, "Well, put it on already!" You open your eyes to find her scowling down at you, and you hurriedly hoist our crotch out of the water so you can slip a condom onto it. You reach towards Rei, only for her to slap your hands away, "Hey! No, sit back down! And don't you dare move, I hate it when guys act like they're not just dildos." With that out of the way, and giving you one final glare in warning, she turns around and lowers herself once more onto your crotch. But this time the burning heat of the water is replaced by the much more subdued warmth of Rei's insides, as she slowly slides your length into herself. Her plump ass squirms as she settles into her new perch, and she is soon gently rocking back and forth in your lap while her hands are busy between her thighs. Her pink hair tickles your face as she grinds on your bulging cock, teasing it endlessly as she pleasures herself. Rei's entire weight is pressed onto your cock as she lifts her legs, the roiling water supporting her as she precisely orients her body to force you as deep as possible. Then Rei lets out a sudden squeak, and she quivers against you, her hole clenching tight around your now painfully erect member.

Rei shudders, her asshole palpitating as she relaxes back against your chest, breathing heavily as she eases her weight off of your manhood. After resting against you for about a minute or so, oblivious to your cock as it throbs inside of her, she pushes herself up off of you in a cascade of water. You get a faceful of ass, and as she bends forward her slightly gaping brown anus is revealed, glistening wetly and flushed from use. Rei notices you staring and quickly turns around, covering herself as she does, "What, it's not like I would let you fuck my unused pussy, I'm saving it for my beloved!" You highly doubt that Rei's cunt had gone unstretched during her stint as a trainee, but you are far more focused on the fact that you had not been able to finish. The bratty idol gives you a confused look as she notices your demeanor, "Oh, did you not cum...? Feel free to jack off into the condom or something, just don't make a mess!" Humming cheerfully, she clambers out of the hot tub and is soon ensconced in an oversized fluffy towel; whereupon she putters off towards the living area, dripping water everywhere. Grumbling, and still staggeringly erect, you dry yourself off before following her, finding Rei sprawled on her couch flicking through channels. Not even deigning to glance at you, she reminds you to clean up all the water you got on the floor walking over there. Rolling your eyes you obey, though not without complaining under your breath, by the time you finished up and returned to your spoiled mistress she has already switched to watching porn. Loud moans and squeals blare from the enormous television as some woman is getting absolutely railed on screen. Rei is already masturbating shamelessly upon her discarded towel, her dark nipples starkly erect.

The idol glances over as you approach and nods in satisfaction as she notices that your dick is still hard, she scrambles around so that her plump posterior is pointed right at you, "Grab a condom, but follow my orders exactly, okay? My butt is very delicate." Sheathed once more in latex supplied from an ever-present condom box, you gently grasp her hips, "Okay, so put a lot of lube in, gently, then slowly ease your dick in, got it?" Instructions which you ignore entirely, as you simply shove your cock directly into Rei's vulnerable asshole. Whose back arches up as she shrieks in surprise, wailing as if she had just been poleaxed. The bitch was obviously exaggerating however, your dick had slid smoothly inside of her, only catching a little at the entrance, evidently Rei had squirted so much lube inside of herself earlier that she still had loads of it coating her insides. Not that she sees it that way, "YOU DUMB FUCK! TAKE IT OUT TAKE IT OUT!" she howls, clawing at the couch for support as her legs shudder. But you are done taking orders from this entitled brat, and pull back, dragging a solid inch of her insides along with you, Rei barely has time to gasp out "Oh thank-" before you slam your entire length back into her guts. This time she is only able to let out an outraged gasp, unable to comprehend how a lowly fan like you could possibly disobey a chaebol of IVE.

Of course, most other idols would not have stood for such treatment either, Yeji would have been clawing your back into bloody ribbons, Rose would have been beating you mercilessly, Jihyo would have pinned you down and firmly forced you inside the proper hole, Dami would have had you biting the couch as she pummeled you with a gargantuan strapon. Instead, Rei, scion of a renowned idol training program, promptly bursts into noisy tears. Normally a girl sobbing would have given you pause, and caused you to rush to give her comfort, but this bitch had been abusing you for hours now, and it seemed a bit of an overreaction; so you continue. Rei blubbers as loudly as the girl on screen, bemoaning her fate and tepidly demanding that you listen to her. But by now you were getting into the swing of things, and to be completely honest her asshole was practically sucking you inside after every thrust. Her thick ass-cheeks clap loudly as you slam yourself against them again and again, providing a meaty cushion that was almost begging for a thoroughly rough plowing. So you give it to them, violently pistoning your cock into her guts, causing her to squeak plaintively and writhe in your grasp as you firmly hold her steady. Then Rei starts to shake, her ass shivering in a familiar way, you don't stop moving though, even when she suddenly starts to scream shrilly, spittle flying onto the couch.

Something hot and wet slops onto your balls, sticking tight to it and smearing deep into its folds. Surprised, you pull out, leaving Rei's asshole gaping enough to show pink and sputtering foully, and beneath that, a shaven pussy absolutely slathered with cunt cream, connected her sex to yours with glistening streamers. She whines in embarrassment, looking back at you in disbelief at the mess she had made, her squeezable cheeks flushing bright red. Before Rei could make any excuses however you had crammed your cock back into her sloppy ass, causing her to groan and bite the fabric. A glow with satisfaction with yourself, you fall back into your rough rhythm, plowing away with enough force to make her ass-cheeks jiggle with every thrust. The steady slap of skin fills the room as you relentlessly fuck Rei, drowning out the depravities taking place on the TV, (by this point the woman appeared to be taking four cocks at once). But Rei wasn't an idol for nothing, and even after such ungentle treatment her butt still devoured your manhood voraciously; squeezing it tightly without any sign of tiring. Your tip grows warmer as you continue to pound away at her hole, it even starts to feel a bit wet within the rubber. The added stimulation is enough to make your heartily sore balls finally start to pulse, and you feel pleasure emanating from the base of your cock, urging you to go deeper. Groaning loudly, you haul Rei back as hard as you can, squishing against her butt with all your might as you climax spectacularly, filling your condom with thick reams of semen. Rei moans in sympathy, but a note of confusion turns her sweet tones shrill, "Oh fuck yes- WAIT. Wait you idiot you're fucking cumming in me! Oh fuck there's so much! Pull out fuckwit, pull out!" Startled by the sudden vehemence in her voice, you abruptly pull out of her, her unplugged asshole sloppily burping your seed out into the creamy filth already coating her sex. Now that it is exposed, you are able to clearly see the issue, your sex had been so violent it had torn the condom open, allowing your cum to surge into Rei's unprotected asshole; who is not taking it well.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck! It's so slimy and gross! I fucking hate cum! How fucking dare you cum in me! Ugh I feel like I'm going to puke!" she staggers upright, scowling furiously at you as she stumbles towards the bathroom. She points angrily at her door, "Out! Get the fuck out!" she screams, pulling herself onto the toilet and squatting upon it like a gargoyle. You quickly dress under her glare, as she starts to shit the vast amount of semen you had pumped into her. Once out the door, you report to the staff member, who seems unsurprised to discover that she had kicked you out of her room. They instruct you to return tomorrow, apparently the assistants were quietly cycled between the girls until they caught on and demanded their removal permanently. You are utterly shocked the next day then when you are once more ordered to wait upon Rei. Led to her familiar door, you find the brat hunched in front of a tablet, morosely jotting upon it with a stylus. She grunts as she sees you, frowning unhappily, rolling the stylus nimbly through her fingers as she ponders something deeply. Finally though she sighs, and demands that you strip once more. You nervously comply, worried about what sort of depraved revenge Rei has in store for you. But instead she simply stalks over to her bed, casting off her clothes as she goes, whereupon she bends over, looking back at you with annoyed trepidation.

"Well, what are you waiting for, idiot? You had better not break your condom this time! Oh and- um," Rei blushes in embarrassment, seemingly mortified that she has to say this, "please be rough again..."

#smut #kpop smut #ive smut #rei smut

[perlelune]

Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | iv.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

“Oh, do you mind if we take a little break?” Clemensia asks almost as soon as you’ve begun working on the task she gave you. You blink, a little confused as your gaze roams across the table. There’s still so much to do. You’re not sure if the girls are just that slow but it’s clear that it will take at least a few hours to get all of it done.

But Clemensia is in charge of the ball committee. You don’t picture yourself telling her what to do or how to do it. After all, you are an outsider. A foreign element infiltrating their ecosystem. You have to play by their rules.

If they want to take a break, who are you to argue with that?

You begin to rise.

“Oh, a break, sure…”

Clemensia’s lips pinch as you try to follow them. “It’s just that…we’ve been doing this for so long, all by ourselves. I even broke a nail.” She pouts, showing you her hands. “But it needs to be finished today.” She nibbles her bottom lip and sighs, eyes pleading yours. “If no one stays behind…”

You mull it over. While you’re not thrilled over the idea of working on the decorations by yourself, you did just get here. You suppose you could hold the fort while they stretch their legs…or whatever Clemensia and her friends like to do when they hang out.

“I guess I could stay,” you concede.

Clemensia flashes you a broad grin.

“You’re so sweet,” she chimes. “Thank you. We won’t be long, promise. Ten minutes tops.”

You shrug and return to your chair. Ten minutes. That sounds reasonable. You pick up the scissors and start cutting more of the tree shapes. 

“No problem.”

But one issue arises. 

The promised ten minutes expand into thirty. Then an hour. Then two. At first, you don’t let your mind dissect it too hard. It’s a stupid thing to overthink, isn’t it? A silly thing to chop into pieces until your mind bleeds with doubt and insecurity. You surmise it was more of an approximation. People do that all the time, say something while meaning another. At least you believe they do. Besides, you find ways to keep yourself busy, even getting started on the sparkly globes lying on the side of the room. You figure out how to use most of the tools on your own and get wrapped in your own bubble of quietness. 

Silence is a familiar companion, the one constant that never judged you, never asked for more of you. In your Silence, you get to be you. Nothing more; nothing less. So you let yourself sink in its warm, snug embrace.

Still, somewhere in the back of your mind, thoughts meander passively… What is taking them so long? You steal a glance outside the window. Orange and purple hues are already bleeding into the sky, a sign of the evening nearing its end. 

You retrieve your pocket watch from inside your skirt. A frown wrinkles your brow. At a time like this, you would usually be home, curled up with Walter on your bed as you go over your notes for the week. It often takes you hours just to decipher the course transcripts. 

“Wow, you did such a great job,” Clemensia whistles from behind you. 

You gasp and whirl. All smiles, the girls fill your sight.

They approach the table and examine some of the decorations you put together on your own. Realization sweeps through you as the fog of your thoughts clear. It didn’t hit you before, not until you absorbed the current state of the crafts table, brimming with the results of your solitary labor. You’ve been busy. Spinning crystal balls, pine cones, silvery garlands and a heap of snowflakes meant to hang on the walls and ceiling. Clemensia admires your handiwork, seemingly impressed. 

A little peeved, you point out, “I mean…had you guys even started? Most of the decorations needed to be cut, glued or assembled…”

“I have delicate hands,” Livia sighs, examining her manicured nails. 

“I’m very slow, sorry,” Ivy says apologetically.

Your frown deepens. Was this whole thing a setup? You sacrificed precious time to be here and you shudder to think the entire purpose of your presence is some kind of childish prank. 

Coriolanus’ words echo in your mind. He argued the girls weren’t like that and that they left the immature tricks back at the Academy. You truly want to believe that none of this is designed to embarrass you, that perhaps, again, all of this is in your head. But your aching fingers, sore from doing crafts most of the afternoon, suggestotherwise.

Unleashing a sigh, you gather your satchel and head towards the exit. 

Clemensia obstructs your path, holding up her hands in apology. 

“I know we should have been back earlier. I’m so sorry. We ran into the Dean and it turned into a whole thing.” She seizes your hands, remorse twisting her pretty features. “I feel so horrible. I invited you so we could do it together as friends.”

Your shoulders slump. As you soak in the look of genuine contrition on her face, doubts lurk inside you. Your confidence about being the victim of some prank wavers. Perhaps, you overreacted. Incidents happen. Besides, the chances of you joining Clemmie’s committee are slim, as you’re already swamped with assignments. A promise was made and you kept it. But this likely will be a one time thing. School dances are at the bottom of your priority list right now.

So you discard it all with a wave of your hand and a contrived smile.

“It’s okay. No apology needed. It’s not your fault.” You note how much darker it’s gotten outside. “I should go back home though. It’s already so late-”

Clemensia stops you again, her hand tightening around yours as she offers excitedly, “Wait, you should come to game night at Liv’s.”

“What?” Livia snickers. Clemensia shoots her a withering glare and the blonde clears her throat, correcting herself, “I mean…yeah, you totally should come.”

You fidget and adjust the strap of your satchel. You may have heard whispers of those game nights. Mystique surrounds them as only a few chosen people are invited to attend. You, of course, were never invited. And it isn’t hard to gather how Livia feels about you coming from her reaction. Why force your way into places where you aren’t wanted?

“I’m already behind on my revising for the day. If I don’t go over my Molecular-”

“Boring,” Ivy sings sarcastically.

“Don’t be mean, Ivy,” Clemensia scolds, elbowing her in the rib.

Clemensia tilts her head, her tone turning beseeching.

“Please…I really want to get to know you better.” She huffs out a long breath as she seems to sense your hesitation. The brunette leans closer, hands clutching your forearms. Sympathy twinkles in her onyx orbs. “You know, I used to be a lot like you. Always striving to be the best at everything I do.” A hollow giggle slips through her lips. “It’s how I got in trouble with your mother actually…I wanted to win so badly and she decided to teach me a lesson.” Sadness pinches her delicate features. “But by always striving for greatness, you miss out on life. I learnt that during the Games...”

“...Surviving isn’t living.”

She studies you before saying, “And it’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Surviving.”

Eyes on the ground, you chew on your lip. You never imagined someone like Clemensia Dovecote - the most beautiful, popular girl at the University - could feel this way…let alone relate to you.

“Clemmie…”

She hunkers a little so your eyes meet.

“Come on, I really want to make up for today.” She laughs. “Show you I’m not a bitch.”

“I don’t think you’re a bitch,” you say.

She places her palm on your cheek. “See? You’re so nice. That’s why I want us to be friends.” She bends over your ear, the words she mutters almost too quiet to be heard, “I can barely stand those two on most days, but appearances must be kept.”

Your gaze swings upward, shock pulsing through you.

She beams at you. “It’ll be an intimate gathering of just a select group, close friends. We play cards, chat, and have a few drinks. That’s it.”

Your forehead creases.

“I don’t drink.”

Squeezing your shoulders, she assures you, “Then I’ll make sure not a drop of alcohol passes your lips. Promise.”

“It’s casual, I swear. You can even leave early if you want.” 

This grabs your attention, as you aren’t sure you’ll make it through the night without craving to return to the safe, familiarity of your apartment. The potential for escape makes the offer far more enticing.

Obviously, Clemensia cares about you showing up. While you don’t fully grasp why, you also never had anyone go out of their way to spend time with you. During the Academy days, everyone avoided you like the plague, either finding you odd or fearing you were as terrifying as your mother. The University doesn’t seem much different so far, groups having already formed from previous camaraderie. Bonds that were forged years ago and cemented over time while you endured in the back of the class. The forgotten one. And you always figured it is the most you can aspire for. Being ignored and left alone.

Until now.

“Really?”

Clemensia’s smile widens.

“Yes. You can stay as long as you want and leave.”

“I don’t have anything to wear to a party,” you muse, pursing your lips. Your tiny, limited wardrobe has always prioritized function over fashion. There are your Academy uniforms, a few loose, unflattering clothes you rotate between. A single formal dress more suited for a funeral than a game night. Nothing impressive because you never had anyone to impress.

You also have no sense of fashion, the trends shifting too quickly for you to keep up. So you’ve stopped trying to. 

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out,” she chimes. “The girls and I always get ready at each other’s house anyway. And you’re one of the girls now.”

You peer down at you and Clemensia’s entwined hands. One of the girls. No one’s ever spoken about you that way. As if your mere presence made something better, uplifting it instead of leading it to its ruin. As if you were solid, more than a wisp of air, a waste of breath. As if you mattered. So, despite the sizzling weight of Livia’s blue eyes on you, you smile back at Clemmie and give a bashful nod.

Your eyes feast on every detail of Clemensia’s living room as you enter her home. Her parents’ apartment is every bit as large and opulent as you imagined. Every exquisite detail screams wealth. The unabashed, showy kind that stoked the embers of bitter unfairness in the Districts, leading the Capitol to where it is today. A city risen from the ashes. Your attention lingers on the expensive artwork exposed in glass cabinets. A lot of it appears to be memorabilia from before the war. You’re willing to bet the combined value of every overpriced trinket in the house could feed an entire District. Paintings of Clemmie’s illustrious ancestors hang over the damask walls, their stern stares seeming to follow you. Almost as if they were ready to leap from the eroded gilded frames and berate you for being an intruder in their family home.

Clemensia tugs you along.

“What are you dawdling for? Come on,” she urges. 

You trail behind her as she takes you to her bedroom. You smile when you see it. The somber, tasteful hues are so very her. The hinges of her wardrobe whine as she opens the large, wooden doors. A vertiginous row of clothes crowd your sight. You gawk, a little amazed but also slightly terrified. Who needs this many clothes? A sour expression scrunches her features.

“I know,” she sighs, placing a hand on her hip. “This is a little embarrassing. Most of these are soo last season.”

You tilt your head at her dizzying collection of shoes, clothes, accessories…the kind a legion of girls would kill for.

“Right,” you blindly agree. Nevermind you can’t even tell the difference. You glance around. “Shouldn’t Livia and Ivy be here too?”

Her brow twitches as she sits on her massive canopy bed. She pats the spot next to her and you awkwardly plop down. The plush silk and soft mattress dip under your weight.

“We decided to meet later,” she reveals. She pauses, a heavy sigh fluttering through her painted red lips before adding, “Besides, I told them to be nicer to you and they got upset and pretended not to know what I was talking about.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

She waves her manicured hand dismissively.

“No, don’t be. This isn’t your fault.” Clemensia licks her lips, her face etched with reflection, as if she were assessing the weight of her words before releasing them. Her hand settles on your arm.

“Look, here’s the thing. Livia’s had a crush on Coriolanus since he returned and they had a sort of fling.” Your mouth drops open. This is news to you. You didn’t catch any hint of lingering longing between the two back at their lunch table. But now that you’re mulling it over, perhaps…Perhaps, Livia’s eyes kept seeking Coriolanus’, while his treaded their own path, never crossing hers. “Things were going pretty well...for a little while. But then, you came along.”

Your brows furrow. “What does this have to do with anything?”

Clemensia’s bell-like laughter resonates in the room.

“God, you’re a sweet thing…just like Snow said.” She beams at you. “Don’t worry. Liv will get over it. She’s all bark and no bite, trust me.”

Her attention travels to the dark fabric peeking from your bag.

“What’s that?” she asks, pulling out the garment.

“The only dress I have.”

She inspects it with a displeased frown.

“Were you planning on wearing this?” She shakes her head as your mouth clamps shut. “Oh, this will not do.”

She takes your hand and drags you to her wardrobe. Brow wrinkled in concentration, she rummages through a numberless heap of garments.

“I have some clothes that my cousin left,” she explains while frantically searching. After a while, victory flares in her orbs. She unhooks a sleek, crimson dress with a tight bodice and flowing sleeves from a hanger. She holds it against your body, chiming, “She’s about your size so they should fit you.” 

“I can’t accept this, Clemmie.”

You attempt to push her hands away but the brunette shoves it in your arms, insisting on you at least trying it on. You press the soft fabric between your fingers. It’s more revealing and form-fitting than you’re used to. You gather it would cling to your body like a second skin…one you aren’t used to wearing. Still, you must admit that it’s a lovely dress. One that could look good even on you. Temptation claws at your resolve, digging deeper and deeper grooves, right into every insecurity you ever had. That thing other girls had that always eluded you. That little secret you were never privy to. The key to that door that never opened. The dress is the key. And you find yourself unable to resist turning the lock to find out what secrets lie beyond that mysterious door.

Beneath Clemmie’s eager stare, you remove your clothes and slip on the dress.

Smug satisfaction hovers on her lips as you peer at your reflection. Words fizzle out on your tongue. You are looking at a complete stranger.

Clemmie rests her chin on your shoulder. “See? I knew it.”

She then has you sit at her vanity to help you do your makeup. Do your makeup…The words sound alien even in the private confines of your thoughts.

As she draws a neat black line over your eyelids, she says, “It hasn’t been long since makeup’s returned to the Capitol again. It used to be near impossible to find.” When she’s done, she turns you towards the vanity mirror. “Those colors will bring out your eye shape and color.”

The air leaves your lungs in a quick rush. You lean closer to the mirror, once again in disbelief that you are truly looking at your own face.

Fingers twisting the delicate fabric of the dress, you pivot to Clemmie.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you blurt out.

Her eyes widen briefly before her expression softens.

“You remind me of me.”

Confusion surges through you. There is an ocean of glaring differences between you and Clemmie, one you couldn’t swim through if you tried. 

“What?”

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this confident.”

Your brows knit, Clemmie’s statement making little sense. If confidence wore a face and had a name, it’d be Clemensia Dovecote’s.

Gripping your shoulders, she turns your focus back onto your dolled-up appearance.

“Alright. Look in the mirror, what do you see?”

You blink. You see a girl playing dress-up, pretending, but you don’t utter those words aloud. They sound lame, even in your own head.

“Nothing,” you tritely respond, dipping your head.

She lifts your chin, moving her head to disagree.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyes twinkle. “I see infinite potential. So stop selling yourself short.” Covering her mouth, she laughs. “His jaw is going to drop.”

“Whose jaw?”

She smirks at you. “You know whose jaw.”

Heat sneaks inside your face.

You fidget in the chair. It’s not like what he thinks matters, right? He is no one to you, just that boy with the unsettling blue stare who won’t leave you be for some strange reason. 

So why is there a tiny shiver of excitement coursing through your veins when the thought of him seeing you like that permeates your brain?

A vigorous gust of common sense sweeps away your wayward musings. 

You don’t care what he thinks. Of course you don’t.

“I-It’s not really my style,” you stammer as you get to your feet.

The sparkle in her onyx orbs doesn’t waver.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have a style yet…so how would you even know?”

“Shouldn’t we be at Livia’s already?” you ask, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction.

She considers you as if you were the most endearing thing in the world. She grabs your hands. “Here’s another rule. Never be on time for anything.” A haughty smirk creeps upon her red lips. “Make them wait for you, not the other way around.” She cocks her head. “One of the things about confidence is knowing that you are the sun, and standing in your orbit is a rare privilege.” She scoffs, “People should feel lucky you even bothered showing up.”

 She approaches you and touches up parts of your hair, visibly elated with the result.

“Perfect,” she trills. “Like I said…potential.”

She herself finishes getting ready. As you absently meander about her room, the doorbell chimes. 

Clemmie pauses as she applies powder on her face. She sets aside her makeup tools and escorts you to the lobby, arm threaded with yours.

“Must be our chauffeur,” she states.

Your eyes round. “You have a chauffeur?”

She cloisters herself in cryptic silence, humming as she drags you along.

When the brunette swings the door open, a towering, familiar figure darkening her doorway, time hangs still for a few seconds.

Your mouth opens wide enough to catch flies.

A smug smile unfurls on his lips.

“Angel,” he greets, gaze locking with yours as he completely ignores Clemmie.

Her sharp irritated tone shatters the spell.

“You’re late, Snow.”

Coriolanus snickers. 

“As if you’re ever on time.”

You trail behind Clemmie as she and Coriolanus keep bantering, his presence still swaddling you in sheer shock. When she tries to take the passenger seat, he drapes a placating hand over hers.

She rolls her eyes and begrudgingly heads to the back of the car.

He opens the car door for you. Recalling the fruitlessness of arguing with him, you climb into the seat. Still, saying you feel awkward riding in the front while the brunette is sulking in the backseat would be a massive understatement.

Few words can accurately describe how peculiar all of this is for you.

“You look surprised,” Coriolanus notes as he takes his own seat and slams the door shut. Your heart misses a beat when his hot breath caresses your earshell. “I did say I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

You look down at your lap. Breathing is laborious, the air in the vehicle coated with the lingering smell of his pricey cologne. You are literally choking on Coriolanus Snow with every breath you take.

“Will you just drive, Snow?” Clemmie snaps, crossing her arms.

“Relax. Patience is a virtue,” he says, not sparing her a glance, zeroing in on you instead. The drumming of your heart swells to an uproar in your ears when he reaches across your body. You hold still while he ties your seatbelt for you. Blue eyes rake over your form in brazen appraisal, his deep voice lowering. “And good things come to those who wait.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

[loversj0y]

saving face

pairing: siren x gn!reader (villain wilbur soot from tommyinnits clinic for supervillains)

tws: okay so, im going to be REALLY thorough because there is some dark content throughout so kidnapping, chloroform use, drug use (power enhancers), reader gets called sweetheart at one point, violence, injuries, torture, major head injuries, alcohol, alcohol is poured on reader, mental manipulation (attempts at it), blood, broken nose, siren tells someone to claw their eye out, mentions of a fractured skull and concussion

notes: big major thank u to @medlarwrites for this idea!!!! ive been obsessing over siren since i read clinic and had to write something abt him. im not in love with the start of the fic bc i had a very different direction at first but!!! dont care i like how it ended up!! so :3

medlars original prompt: “anyways lemme leave you a siren!wilbur who finds our his bestfriend from college got kidnapped because they suspect she's associated with siren and so want to get information about his identity from them :)”

word count: 5.5k!

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone

When you were in college, you had a rather… peculiar best friend. Maybe you should’ve cared a bit more about the moral consequences of what he did, but honestly, it was college. Your best friend was one of the most well-known supervillains, Siren.

That wasn’t how you met him, though. You met him as Wilbur Soot, the guy who sat next to you in your Literature class, who often forgot his pens. You had a small crush on him, so you made a habit of always bringing an extra pen for him. You became quick friends after, bonding over mutual hatred for the professor’s teaching style, as well as sharing an onslaught of opinions.

You didn’t mean to find out about his identity, it was a complete accident. You and him had this mutual agreement that if something was going on (life troubles, finals stress, etc.), you have free permission to come over for some company. If the other person wasn’t there, you would just wait until they got home. It was a good system that kept both of you from getting too lonely, especially you. He lived at home, but you lived in a dodgy apartment by yourself. He would always make an effort to show up any time he had anything he wanted to talk about, mostly to keep you from feeling too alone. One night, the loneliness had gotten pretty rough, so you decided to go to Wilbur’s house. You two had given each other spare keys a long while back, and it wasn’t the first time you’d done this, so you were quick to unlock the door and head into his room to wait for him to come home. When the door did finally open, it wasn’t Wilbur who walked through.

You immediately jumped, backing up a bit as you saw Siren walk in. Once he’d processed that you were there, he cursed under his breath, trying to console you while quickly pulling off his blindfold. You watched as he went from Siren to Wilbur in a matter of seconds, your head swirling with confusion. You two had a very long conversation that night, while you helped him clean up a scratch along his arm.

After college, you didn’t see Wilbur as much anymore. You worked a lot, and he worked quite a bit too. You two still saw each other, just not as often.

You saw Siren much more often, though. Since Wilbur knew where your walk home from work was, he would always make an effort to be there and walk you home at night once a week if he could. Sometimes he would only watch you from the rooftops, other times when it was a bit darker and there were fewer people out, he would walk with you, chatting about anything he could think of. Over time, what once had been a small crush blossomed into genuine love for your best friend.

It was nice, a really good system. Kept you and him talking, even when your busy schedules tended to keep you from each other. However, for as good of a system as it is, it also had some apparent downsides.

Like your current situation.

You didn’t know exactly where you were.

The last thing you remembered was leaving work. You locked up the small bookstore you worked at and began your walk home when you felt a hand wrap around you, pressing a cloth against your mouth. Whoever it was ended up being too strong for you to fight against, and it was only a few minutes before the chloroform reached your brain, knocking you out quickly. In terms of kidnappings, it was fairly tame, at the very least.

It took a while to wake up, your consciousness floating in and out a few times, allowing you to get small glimpses of conversations.

“Try and get ‘em to talk. Just being friends with Siren doesn’t mean they’re strong. We can break them, even if it takes some… stepping in.”

A bit of a horrifying thing to hear post-kidnapping, but even if it wasn’t on purpose, it at least got your guard up a bit.

When you woke up, you spent a few minutes looking around and familiarising yourself with your surroundings. You were in some shitty warehouse. Which, honestly, cliche, and how many abandoned warehouses did this city have? Large, brown-stained windows lined the top of the walls, allowing for a bit of light to pour in. There were garage-type doors every few feet, but most of them had large padlocks, except for one the furthest away from you.

Your hands and feet were tied onto the chair, one hand behind handcuffed while the other hand and your legs were attached with zip ties.

Escape was not going to be easy, but you knew a bit of fighting, Wilbur having taught you how to protect yourself. You finally looked over to the middle of the room.

It took you a while to recognize the guy who’d kidnapped you. You did know him, though, only because of the things that Siren had told you. Schlatt, previously known as Gunmetal, an ex-hero. His power was the ability to strengthen his body to a metal-like level, making him incredibly hard to take down. The Syndicate considered approaching him for membership, but he was… unstable. He got discharged by the Hero Committee after his increased strength led to the destruction of an apartment building. There weren’t any villains around to pin it on, either, and there were too many witnesses. It had also been discovered that he’d been utilizing power enhancers, which were supposed to be outlawed, in order to extend his abilities and allow him to strengthen multiple parts of his body at once.

If what Wilbur had told you in his frustrated rants was true, Schlatt wanted to take over the Syndicate. He’d attacked them numerous times, always aiming to kill, and he’d taken a particular interest in finding out Siren’s identity.

You sat up a bit, preparing yourself for whatever bullshit he was about to spew at you.

Wilbur caught onto something being wrong a few hours after you’d been taken. He had gone on a minor heist with Techno, and things ran… suspiciously well. No hero intervention for the majority of the heist, until Flame showed up towards the end. Blade handled most of the fighting for him, while Siren took care of their escape. It was when they finally escaped that he noticed something odd. He and Techno passed by your apartment, and he knew your habits well enough to know that you would not be asleep this early. Despite that, the lights in your apartment were off. A bit of searching later, and he was quick to notice your disappearance. When he arrived back home, he was quick to enlist Tubbo to see if they could get a ping on your last known location. Your phone wasn’t anywhere to be found, so he hoped he could at least figure out where you had been. Normally, he would pace to try and distract himself, but when it came to you, there was no use. He immediately headed out, trying to find any sign of you and waiting for a response from Tubbo.

“Good mornin’ sweetheart,” Schlatt chuckled, standing in front of a table in front of your chair. He had two briefcases set out in front of him, “Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna hurt you.” There was an implied ‘yet’ at the end of that sentence. You got a good look at him. He wore a pressed suit, and an airsoft mask – equipped specially with two ram horns on the sides, his signature look. His knuckles were wrapped with red athletic tape, at least you’d hoped it was originally red.

“Then what the fuck do you want with me? It’s hard to believe you aren’t going to hurt me when you kidnapped me off the street.”

“I just need a bit of information, that’s all.”

You scoffed, “Really? So you just fucking kidnap me?”

“It’s effective, is it not?” He chuckled, leaning forward, “Do you have any powers?”

You rolled your eyes, “Cut the shitty small talk. Why am I here?”

“To answer my fucking questions.”

You looked down at your arm, noting a small cuff wrapped around it, “If I tell you, will you take the stupid power dampener off?”

He snorted, “Don’t act dumb.”

“Oh, good, then I’m not telling you.” You did have a power. It was part of why Wilbur felt comfortable being around you. You were also a mind manipulator, but you couldn’t get people to actually do things for you. You could just easily see through their words and arguments. Which meant that you could get them to believe you were telling the truth as well, which would be a bloody good thing to be able to utilize right about now.

“Fine, be like that.” He held up a photo, “So, if you won’t tell me your power, maybe you’ll tell me why Siren has had such a close eye on you?” You looked at the photo closer, being able to clearly make out Siren walking you home.

“He’s just a nice dude. Wants to walk me home sometimes,” you shrugged, trying to act nonchalantly, “I don’t know much about him if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He snorted, “Yeah, like I’d believe that.” He pulled out a folder, spreading out numerous photos of you and Siren, hanging out and eating together in your apartment.

“Have you been fucking stalking me, you absolute creep?”

“Not you, but Siren. You just happened to be there. And I wanna know why.”

“What? You’re mad that a citizen can show compassion to a villain?” You scoffed, “Boo-hoo, poor Schlatt, must be such a sad life you have.”

He growled, and you grinned at how easy it was to get under his skin, even without your power. “I couldn’t give less of a shit about that. I want to know why he’s trying to recruit new Syndicate members.”

You laughed, “God, you could not have worse of a grasp on the situation. He’s just a nice guy. Came to my bookstore once, offered to walk me home, and we became friends. Is it impossible for villains to have friends?”

“Supervillains don’t have friends. Not without an agenda.”

“What about their healer? He’s a friend, isn’t he?”

“He works for them. He doesn’t count.”

“Well, I clearly don’t work for them. So just leave me alone, why don’t you?”

“Okay, I will let you go. If you tell me one thing.”

Oh, here came the stupid request. “Oh? Let me guess? You want me to tell you Siren’s real name.”

“Obviously.”

“Do you really think he’s that stupid? To let a random civilian he met know his name?”

“No. But I know you’re not just a random civilian he met. Because these photos date back years.”

You tensed a bit, trying to hide any clear facial reaction, “And?”

“And, no one who doesn’t work with him would stick around that long, unless there was something keeping them there. So, you obviously know who he is.”

“Oh, obviously?” You tried to will down the blush on your cheeks. “Is it really that obvious? You don’t know anything about me, and you clearly don’t know anything about Siren.”

“So tell me what I don’t know.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not falling for that, dipshit. If you want information on Siren, you’ve got the wrong person.”

“Yeah, except that can’t be true. I know you have a power you’ve been hiding, and we know that Siren has spent a highly significant amount of time with you, longer than he ever did their healer. And, we have photos of you with him and other Syndicate members at your apartment. So we know you know his identity. But we can figure out other ways to make you talk.”

“Wow, so you’re adding misuse of power against a civilian to your list of crimes? That combined with the kidnapping, not to mention the murder and the numerous times you’ve hurt civilians and destroyed their homes, oh and getting discharged as a Hero?”

That got under his skin, “I have no problem adding torture onto that list.”

“So much for being a hero then.”

His fists curled up, and he slammed it down on the table, “ex-hero, for a reason.” He walked closer, crouching down to be eye-level with you. “So then, you’re really trying to tell me that the numerous dates you’ve gone on with Siren just don’t mean anything?”

“We- They weren’t dates!” Your face flushed dark red, “We’re just friends!” You blatantly tried to ignore the fact that you’d been in love with him for years.

“Your face is telling a different story,” he smirked, “Is he hot under the mask? Or maybe you just like a man with power?”

You moved back from his hand, jaw tensing, as he tried to cup your jaw, “Hm, well, if you aren’t saying anything willingly, I can make you talk.”

He stood again, walking over to the second briefcase, opening it to where you couldn’t see the contents. You didn’t know if you wanted to. “Plus, this is all just a distraction.” He lifted your phone, turning it on, “They’ll be here soon enough. I won’t need you then, I can take down the Syndicate myself.”

A shiver went down your spine, and you prayed that Wilbur hadn’t noticed your absence.

Tubbo was able to find you pretty quickly. Just when he’d thought your phone was too far for a proper ping, he got one with an exact location that he quickly relayed to Siren. Siren was on it almost immediately, but he wasn’t going in alone. He didn’t know who took you, so he was going to be prepared. By enlisting most of the Syndicate to join him. He made it to the location first, but he knew better than to jump in early, especially since he was one of the least physical fighters. He did some surveying, though, spotting a few guards in suits. Suits were the tell of Schlatt, and he mentally cursed the team members for not getting there as fast as he’d wished. He knew Schlatt could be violent, unpredictable, and hot-headed.

The rest of the Syndicate arrived, and Nemesis and Thanatos made quick work of taking down the guards. Which meant it was time to take down Schlatt.

You’d lost track of time. Schlatt had some interesting methods for getting you to talk. Most of them involve hitting you, his ability making it easy to hurt you, if the broken nose and cut lip were anything to go by. But a lot of it was mental. Using taunting words to try and get under your skin.

“It’s going to be so funny when you’re little boyfriend comes here,” he snickered, grabbing your jaw to make you look up at him, “It’ll be even better to make you watch him die.”

He almost seemed drunk the more and more he continued, “Or, maybe, I could hurt him more. Make him watch me kill you slowly. Or,” he chuckled, but the laughter quickly turned maniacal, “I’ll let him kill you. I’ll make him use that shitty fucking voice of his to kill you.”

You snorted, and he raised an eyebrow, “Something about that funny to you?”

You looked up at him, spitting blood out of your mouth, “His voice is real nice, actually. Much better than yours.” You were playing with fire, but you needed to buy time to get him hopefully exhausted enough to give you a chance to escape.

He smacked you, a loud crack reverberating and echoing throughout the warehouse.

“You piece of shit,” he rolled his eyes, moving away from you. He grabbed a water bottle, downing half of it easily. You watched cautiously, becoming all too aware of how thirsty you were.

“What? You want some or something?” He chuckled, walking back over to you, “Be my fucking guest,” he poured the water over your head. You tilted your head back and drank some of it down. Once you’d gotten some of it in your mouth, though, you quickly realized that it was not, in fact, water but instead vodka. You coughed once you realized, spitting out as much as you could.

He laughed as you hissed in pain, the alcohol stinging the wounds he’d left. He went to throw another retort at you, but before he could, the door slammed open.

Just as Schlatt predicted, the entire Syndicate was there. You sat up, watching as Schlatt moved back to his briefcase and pull out a syringe.

“Siren, run!” You yelled, thrashing and trying to draw attention to yourself, “All of you! Run! It’s a trap-”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence as Schlatt stormed over, grabbing you by the hair. “Oh, Jesus, just shut up with your whining,” he rolled his eyes, hitting your temple harshly, sending the chair to the ground and you with it. The ground rushed up to meet you, and the darkness of unconsciousness was quick to follow.

Siren was pissed. Blade quickly began to advance on Schlatt, but Wilbur was faster. It was stupid, he knew he was being stupid to rush in like this, but he was angry. He watched as Schlatt quickly injected himself with something, some odd shimmering yellow liquid, and in seconds, his body started glowing the same yellow. Power enhancers, Wilbur’s mind supplied. He cursed, hanging back to allow Blade to hit first. Zephyrus flew overhead, getting behind Schlatt to prevent him from running. As much as Wilbur wanted to fight, he needed to make sure you were okay.

He rushed over, grabbing a knife from the table that he prayed hadn’t been used on you. The first thing he did when he approached you was check your pulse, thanking anything that would listen that your pulse was still coming through. He cut the ties easily, then he moved onto the power dampener, trying to pry the thing off. He had no clue where the key for it was, but he didn’t have time to waste looking for it. He started breaking it off when he was tugged back, Schlatt having grabbed the back of his collar. He slammed Siren against the wall, grinning at him.

“For a world-class supervillain, you’d think you’d be smarter,” he chuckled, leaning his knee against Siren’s back and pinning him there. He pushed all of his power into his knee, strengthening and solidifying the metal against Wilbur’s back. “You know how easy it was for me to track them down? You made them an easy target, Siren. You’re the reason they’re here,” he pushed his knee further into his back.

“Let me go,” Siren ordered but to no avail.

Schlatt started laughing louder, “What, you think I’m an idiot? You thought I wouldn’t prepare my mask for you?”

Fuck.

Siren didn’t have to fret much longer, though. Blade came up behind Schlatt, driving a sword through his shoulder. He’d put too much power into his knee, leaving the rest of him vulnerable.

The rest of the takedown was easy. They were planning on taking Schlatt in, hopefully, to use as a bargaining chip against the Hero Committee since he was wanted by them. Once Zephyrus had him subdued, Nemesis and Thanatos grabbed his things and started heading back. Siren lingered with Zephyrus, Jester, Blade, and Ender (who’d only shown up to help take anyone who needed healing to Apollo). Siren walked over, ripping Schlatt’s mask off.

Schlatt was still spilling curses and threats against them, but he’d quieted for a moment as Wilbur pulled his mask off, eyes adjusting to the light. Wilbur threw the mask behind him, and a sinister grin spread over his face.

“We need him alive, Siren,” Blade reminded him.

He groaned, huffing softly, “Fine.” He hummed, tilting his head.

“Claw your left eye out, then knock yourself out.”

Wilbur didn’t stay to watch the aftermath, but he heard the groans and screams of pain from Schlatt as he walked back over to you. Ender was waiting next to you, double-checking for any serious wounds.

Wilbur got the rest of the power dampener off, throwing it to the side. He carefully lifted you, making sure to be mindful of your head.

Ender gave him a concerned look, "It looks bad, but they should be okay."

“No, not should be.” Siren snapped his head towards Ender, shaking his head, “I need them to be okay. Bring us to Apollo.”

Ender nodded, placing a hand on Siren’s shoulder. In seconds, they disappeared in a flurry of purple particles, appearing now in Apollo’s clinic in the Syndicate building.

Tommy was sitting by the desk, playing on his DS. He perked up quickly when he heard Ender teleport in, looking up and seeing Siren cradling you. Siren moved forward, placing you down on the doctor’s mat in the center of the room.

Tommy quickly walked over, “Jesus, man, what the fuck happened?” He placed his hands near your head, warmth emitting over them as he began healing you.

“Schlatt happened. But he won’t be a problem anymore,” Wilbur huffed, tearing off his blindfold and coat, draping them over a chair. He paced around the room as Tommy worked on healing.

“You’re going to burn a hole in the floor,” Tommy huffed.

“I couldn’t care less, Toms. They weren’t supposed to be involved with any of this, I’ve fucked it up again, I-I put them in danger,” Wilbur ran a hand through his hair.

Tommy straightened, pulling his hands away as he finished healing, “Don’t start with your self-deprecating shit, man. They know you’re Siren. They’ve stuck around, and they always knew this could happen. You’re not to blame.”

“But I-”

“You weren’t the one who kidnapped them. It’s not your fault,” Tommy sighed, grabbing a glass of water.

Wilbur nodded, walking up to you, still unconscious, “They- they’ll be fine, right? They’ll be okay?”

Tommy took a sip of his water, nodding, “Yeah. Head injury was the worst of it, but it should be all healed up now. They might be a bit foggy when they wake up, though.”

“When will they wake up?”

Tommy shrugged, “Should be soon. Probably an hour or two. Can’t give you an exact time. You should get them somewhere more comfortable before they’re up, though.”

Wilbur nodded, carefully picking you back up, “Thanks, Tommy.”

“You don’t have to thank me, man, it’s my job.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, “I want to thank you, dickhead. Now, go to sleep, child.”

“I am n-” Wilbur cut off Tommy’s response by closing the door to Tommy’s clinic behind him. He called Techno, and within a few minutes, Wilbur was being driven home with you still resting in his arms.

“They’re going to be fine, you know that.”

“I know they will be, but they never should’ve been there in the first place. They never asked for this.” Wilbur sighed.

“Oh, please.” Techno snorted, “You tried to scare them away way back when. You even used your ability to try and convince them to not want to be around you.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the same. They turned down the offer to join the Syndicate, which meant they never should’ve been involved with this stuff.”

“Maybe you should ask again,” Techno shrugged. “Even if they don’t want to fight, we could use someone to help out with questioning people. Their ability would work pretty well for that.”

“Techno, I just said they shouldn’t have been involved with this stuff.” Wilbur sighed.

“All I’m saying is if they do become a member, it would be a lot easier to keep them safe. Less loose ends that we can’t keep our eyes on.”

Wilbur bit his lip, nodding with realization, “True. I- yeah. I’ll ask them.”

“Plus, with how in love with them you are, it won’t be long before something like this happens again.”

“I- What?” Wilbur spluttered, eyes widening, “How-?”

“How do I know that? Wilbur, it’s insanely obvious,” Techno laughed, “I have no clue how they don’t know.”

“They won’t know. And you won’t tell them.” Wilbur hissed out.

“Mmhm, okay, sure. Pretty big wimp move for a supervillain.”

Wilbur groaned but didn’t respond past that.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, Wilbur gently playing with your hair gently. He routinely moved a hand to check your pulse, just as a reminder that you were fine and alive and here with him.

He carried you out of the car once Techno pulled up, heading straight to his room. He laid you down gently, placing your head on his lap.

The world seemed fuzzy when you came to. You were too comfortable to open your eyes at first, shifting slightly and letting out a soft groan. Your joints felt sore and stiff, but your face felt even weirder. Your face felt warm but like all of your muscles were new and had never been used before. You scrunched your nose, slowly opening your eyes and letting them get used to the environment around you.

You recognized the room instantly and relaxed as the memories started flooding back to you. The kidnapping, Schlatt, getting knocked out. You heard humming, looking up to see Wilbur leaning against the wall, humming with his eyes closed. He was fidgeting with his fingers and biting at his lip.

You slowly shifted to look up at him fully, “Hey.” Your voice was groggier than you’d expected.

He looked down quickly, “You’re up,” he smiled, “Hi.”

“Did everything go well? With Schlatt?”

He laughed, shaking his head, “God, you just woke up from getting knocked out and tortured, and the first thing you ask is if the fight went well?” He moved a hand to your hair gently, “Are you okay?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged, “I feel fine, just a bit tired, I guess. I feel like I’m supposed to feel worse.”

“Tommy healed you,” he supplied.

You sat up slowly, and he carefully placed a hand on your back, keeping it there until you’d gotten in a better position. “He didn’t have to do that. I would’ve been fine.”

“You would’ve had a concussion and a fracture in your skull.”

“That’s not the worst thing in the world.” You joked and gave him a lopsided grin, and he shook his head, chuckling.

He pulled you into a tight hug, “I’m so fucking glad you’re okay.”

You hugged him back, burying your face against him gently, “I would’ve been fine.”

You were lying. You were not fine, actually. As strong as you acted, you couldn’t deny the slight shake that lay in your hands as you thought about that warehouse and the overwhelming fear the image of that mask in your head put in you.

You could’ve used your ability to make Wilbur believe you. You didn’t honestly have the energy to do so.

“You don’t have to be fine,” he whispered, rubbing your back gently, “I know how terrifying it must’ve been. But it’s okay, you’re safe now.”

Your fists balled up the fabric of his sweater, and the tears started falling soon after. He rubbed your back as you cried, the waves of fear and stress finally coming out. You could only hold it together for so long, and Wilbur would always be there when you finally broke.

By the time you calmed down, you were left with soft gasps of breath and holding Wilbur like a lifeboat. He leaned over to his nightstand, handing you a glass of water. After a moment’s hesitation, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You drank slowly, not wanting to overwhelm yourself. Wilbur’s kiss didn’t exactly help, but physical affection wasn’t something new to either of you.

As if he knew exactly what you were thinking, he wrapped his arms around you gently, leaning his face against your shoulder. You leaned into his touch, letting your eyes close for a moment.

“He was stalking me. Well, he was stalking you, but he had photos from years ago of us. Of Siren walking me home. Of Blade at my apartment. Of Zephyrus in my living room.”

Wilbur tensed, keeping you a bit closer. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered, “I-I never should’ve let you get involved with the Syndicate stuff, I was so stupid to think something like this wouldn’t happen.”

“Wilbur, you never let me get involved. In fact, you were the one pushing me from getting involved. I chose this. I knew something like this could happen, and I chose to stick by you.”

“You’re not a member of the Syndicate, though. I know you can protect yourself, but I don’t want to be the reas-”

“Wilbur.” You hissed out. “If you even for a moment insist again that this is your fault, I will use my ability to make you believe that the best way to sleep is by falling out the window.” He bit his tongue from responding, nodding. “I didn’t turn down the Syndicate offer because I thought it would keep me safe.” You reached for his hand, taking it and squeezing it tightly. You didn’t know if it was your foggy mental state that made the idea of confessing your feelings so appealing or if it was just the residual fear in your system, but you didn’t care regardless.

“Why did you turn it down, then?” Wilbur asked softly.

“I turned down the Syndicate offer because I was worried about working with you.” You sighed, “It’s hard to focus around you, Wilbur.”

“Me? I don’t understand, we’ve been best friends for years, why would..?”

“That’s the problem. It’s hard to focus around you because I am constantly wishing that you would love me back.”

You held your breath once the words left your mouth. Wilbur pulled away from you, and you felt your heart drop.

“Do you mean that?” He asked softly, moving to sit in front of you.

You nodded, unable to respond further in fear of the tears resurfacing.

Wilbur reached a hand out, pausing and hesitating for a moment. He continued though, gently cupping your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widened. “Only if you mean it.”

He smiled softly, leaning forward and kissing you hard. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as you kissed him back, putting all the passion behind it that you’d wanted to for years.

When he pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, catching your breath slowly. He smiled, fingers lightly tracing your arms.

“So… about joining the Syndicate then,” you started.

He laughed, pulling away to grin at you, “You don’t have to decide anything tonight. But it would be really nice. You probably wouldn’t be on the front lines, but we’d love to have you. Plus, we’d be able to see each other a lot more.” He grinned.

You smiled, “Well, I’ll give you a formal answer in the morning. But as for an informal one, I’d fucking love it.”

He grinned, holding you close once more. You ran your hands up and down his back gently, and he hissed in pain when you reached the midpoint of his back. You pulled away.

“Will? You alright?”

He gave a thumbs up, and you smirked, “Say it out loud.”

He groaned, “I am alright. I am perfectly fine.” You could feel the pressure of his words in your head, and they almost sounded distorted. A clear lie.

“Let me see your back.” You smiled, and he groaned.

“You know how much I hate that I can’t lie to you?” He huffed, turning and pulling his sweater up.

“I know, I know,” you took a good look at his back, frowning at the dark bruise on his back, “Wilbur, you have a huge bruise. Are your ribs okay? It looks like some might be cracked.”

“They feel fine,” he shrugged. The pressure returned to your head, and this time you could feel a sensation of burning below your hands. A big lie, then.

“...I’m texting Tommy.”

“No, do not!”

You already had your phone out, texting Tommy to ask for him to come as soon as possible, both for Wilbur and so you could thank him for healing you.

“Too late,” you smiled, and Wilbur huffed, pulling his sweater back down.

He wrapped an arm around you again, kissing the top of your head, “You’re lucky I love you, Aletheia.”

“I am,” you smiled softly. There was no pressure or warm sensation. He did love you. He meant it. “Alethia? God of… truth, right?”

He nodded, “It’s Techno’s codename for you. He chose it out months ago.”

You smiled fondly, “Cool. Has a nice ring to it.”

He nodded, “I agree. And for what it’s worth, I’m lucky too.” He smiled, and you gave him a gentle kiss.

“We’re both lucky. Maybe our duo name could be Tyche.”

“Oh, god, I’m going to have to deal with so many more Greek mythology references with you in the Syndicate, aren’t I?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

#mar writes #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #lovejoy #wilbur x reader #medlar :3 #siren wilbur soot #tommyinnits clinic for supervillains #siren x reader #sirenbur #siren wilbur soot x reader #clinic!wilbur #clinic wilbur soot

[livingemkayde]

ch iv. tacit

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter four of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. love triangle forming formed. lots of angst, miscommunications. very brief mentions of sexual situations. age gap, reader is 23 and joel is 35. Tommy is 30. (ages of all characters and plot do not follow canon strictly for the story’s sake).

summary: tommy miller 'accidentally' sets joel up on a blind date on your night out. you're definitely not happy about it, and neither is joel.

a/n: tried something kinda new with this chapter. Been feeling like my writing as a whole lowkey gives bare bones considering all my edits and things i cut out so i tried to keep most of my ideas, just refined them more. ~ THIS SYMBOL REPRESENTS POV CHANGE. Really trying to rein in the idea that they’re fucking terrible at communicating and they interpret situations differently (but differently in such a similar way). If yall liked this please lmk. and dont worry things will get better in the next chapter (i already have half of it written).

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“I did good, didn’t I?”  What the fuck. “What?” you echo your thoughts, looking over at Tommy. He smiles at the pair.  “She’s my next door neighbor. I fixed up her mailbox and got to talkin’ — said I thought she would get along with Joel.”  “You invited her?” you ask, your voice small. “Yeah,” Tommy laughs and rubs your shoulder. “‘S what I just said, baby.” 

“Are you serious?” you almost want to hit Joel upside the head. 

He just nods, raising his beer to you and chugging down a good portion of it. 

“God. You’re kidding, right?” You turn back to Tommy. 

“Sorry, baby. Dead serious.” 

“Jesus,” you shake your head, tipping back the remainder of your second drink. 

Tommy’s birthday. On Sunday. As in like, two days from now, and you had no clue, not until this very moment, the two brothers staring back at you like they don’t see the issue with this. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“‘M tellin’ you now?” Tommy laughs. You shove him playfully. 

“Well, we have to throw you a party,” you announce, shaking your head at the thought that maybe, if Joel didn’t say anything, you wouldn’t have known about Tommy’s birthday at all. 

“No, I don’t think —” 

“No excuses,” you say, shrugging your shoulders and giving him a shy smile. “Joel and I will take care of it. Right?” you look over at him, but he stares back with wide eyes. 

He stutters out words, trying to give an excuse, but doesn’t get very far. 

“Joel and I will throw you a party,” you say, giving Joel a teasing look. “You gotta up my pay, Miller.” 

“In your dreams, I pay you plenty. And Sarah’s an angel — I’m basically paying you to sit around and hang out.” 

“‘S hard work,” you chuckle, the boys laugh. “Can we use your backyard, Joel?” 

“Why.” 

“You have a pool…and a barbecue…and a lawn.” 

“Jesus. ‘S like y’all don’t own houses.” 

“Great! Party at Joel’s,” you smile at him, teasing almost — flirting. But you reel it in at Tommy’s voice. 

They start talking about something regarding the current state of Joel’s backyard and you get lost in the conversation, itching to approach the bar and get another drink. 

Your phone buzzes, it’s Olivia calling. You excuse yourself and make a quick break outside. 

“Hello?” 

Hey babe, so how’s it going? Am I interrupting anything??

You roll your eyes. 

“Liv, c’mon. Tommy is here with us,” you say into the phone, peering back at the brothers perched on a high table through the window. 

Ugh. Fucking buzzkill. So you’re not gonna make a move tonight? 

“Jesus. No — no.” 

Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself more than me. 

“If I get some alone time with him then maybe we’ll — talk about it. I guess…” you look back to them again. Joel’s eyes catch yours and you turn around quickly. 

“I dunno though. Tommy’s being clingy.” 

He’s always clingy. Sneak Joel into the bathroom, maybe y'all can go for round two.

“Liv!” you chastise, your cheeks heat at the thought. 

Keep me posted. And have fun, girl. 

“I will, thanks. Love you, bye.” 

Love you, bye. 

You hang up, rubbing your hands on your upper arms to shield yourself from the cold. You need another drink desperately. 

You walk back in. The roaring crowd meets your ears immediately. Dim string lights and a couple shots in and things had been going — good. 

Relatively good. The best you could hope for out of your Friday night out with the boys. 

Joel isn’t being an ass and Tommy is relatively chill so things have been good. It’s fun being out with them. Especially when Tommy might be too distracted by the crowd to see you staring at Joel — the way his biceps stretch the cotton of his t-shirt. The way his lips curl around his glass. The glint in his eyes when he laughs. And you know for certain, Tommy doesn’t notice Joel’s hand resting on your thigh for a couple, fleeting seconds every so often.

You approach the bar and ask for another drink. You’re not sure where you stand with Joel, you two haven’t been afforded much alone time since the phone call. But things might finally feel good. Especially between the brothers. 

Maybe it had been way too good — way too calm — because something always had to fuck everything up — and this was that moment. 

A long legged blonde walks through the double doors like a scene out of a movie. Somewhere deep down in the teenage part of your psyche, you want to say her clothes are ill-fitting, her lipstick — a garish shade of mauve, her hair — coarse and utterly damaged. But it’s not. She’s none of those things. 

She's perfect.

It's been two days since the incident on the phone. Joel and Tommy have been sort of MIA with a big part of their project — coming back home late, when Sarah’s already asleep. You got your car fixed (all on your own) so you leave them with some leftovers on the table as soon as they get back. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

Joel had said when you pointed out the food on the table last night. You recall everyone’s eyes widening, the pet name slipping from his lips with ease. It sounded like butter to your ears — fighting the urge to smile a mile wide and kiss him like you’ve been begging to do since the day you met. But you knew Tommy noticed, you all noticed. Joel brushed it off with a cough, saying something about how it had been a particularly rough day. 

Tommy didn’t say much about it. But he wasn’t acting strange which was good. Even tonight, he’s still acting himself — it’s a bit of a relief. 

Even now, when surprisingly, Tommy stands and greets the woman, pulling her into a hug. Joel stands too, though he looks a bit confused.

You stare at them from the bar, Tommy says something to Joel, obviously introducing the blonde to him. Joel’s face contorts into recognition at the name, maybe Tommy has mentioned her before. 

You don’t even notice the bartender placing your drink down in front of you, abandoning it and beelining towards them. The drink sweats on the bartop, alone. Forgotten. 

“Why don’t you go with Joel?” Tommy says, ushering her towards Joel’s side. “Grab her a drink?”

You look up at Joel in passing, the blonde on his other side, you try to keep your face normal, but a look slithers onto your brow. He knows exactly what you’re trying to say. 

What the fuck?

His eyes scrunch for a half second, saying, I don’t know, either and stalks away with the blonde. You watch them leave, but Tommy’s voice snaps you out of your trance, a heavy arm braces itself over your shoulder as you both watch them approach the bar. 

“I did good, didn’t I?” 

What the fuck.

“What?” you echo your thoughts, looking over at Tommy. He smiles at the pair. 

“She’s my next door neighbor. I fixed up her mailbox and got to talkin’ — said I thought she would get along with Joel.” 

“You invited her?” you ask, your voice small.

“Yeah,” Tommy laughs and rubs your shoulder. “‘S what I just said, baby.” 

Joel looks — you don’t really know what he looks like. He doesn’t look completely uninterested, but you can spot the glint in his eye a million miles away. And when he lacks it too, like right now. 

But maybe you like to imagine what his eyes look like — just for you. How you can feel his glances from across a room, how his eyes meet yours through a crowded bar and never let go. Like a string attaches your irises and pulls you, locked together, forever. 

It doesn’t seem like he’s looking at her like that but you’re beginning to realize you know nothing of what these boys might do. 

It’s not like Joel owes you anything in this moment — and you’re not asking him. You know what he has to do to save both of your asses from Tommy’s precise, unwavering eyes, and he’s doing it. He’s strong — but you’re not sure if you’ve got that kind of fight in you. To let him go, with wandering eyes and wandering, delicate fingers braced all over his body. Maybe this is how he feels — no — now you’re certain your feelings match Joel’s in those fleeting moments when he catches you with Tommy. 

It leaves you feeling sick. Guilty? Sure. Sad? Oh, definitely. 

Jealous? Yeah. That one. 

Even if it might be unrightfully so. But you keep it down the best you can. 

“You think they look good together?” Tommy says from the table now. You don’t remember him moving. 

“Yeah,” you reply in a soft voice. 

He clears his throat when you stare at them for too long. 

“Yeah,” you say again, louder, when you turn to him. He smiles back. 

“‘S what I thought, too.” he throws some trail mix into his mouth. “Think she might be good for him.” 

“Good for him,” you echo, absentmindedly. The only thing you can think about — and look at, for that matter — is the way her manicured fingers brush over his arm, and how he doesn’t push them away. 

Good for him.  

She seems good for him. Maybe all he needs is a bobbing blonde bimbo in his life. Something to brighten up his day. You thought you were good for him. Thought you were good for his life. Thought you were good for everyone. 

But when he laughs a bit — you can’t help but wonder: what do you think you know anymore? 

“You alright?” 

You snap your head to Tommy again. 

You feel like crying but you bite back the desperate tears. 

“Yeah,” you say, the feeling in your throat rising with your reply, and even more so with the next. “‘M fine.” 

You watch the bartender set a drink down in front of the unnamed woman and she accepts it graciously. The pair begins to walk back, she’s close to Joel’s side. You bite your tongue, whipping out your phone instead to sneak Olivia a sad, solemn text.

You look down, the tears pooling to the front of your eye, momentarily blurring your vision like someone just released a flash bomb in the bar — maybe an ambush — this certainly feels like one. 

You can’t really read the legibility of your writing, knowing it's littered with typos, your thumbs moving faster than your mind —  saying something about a woman and Joel and almost regrettably because of how in the moment you are right now — how fucking stupid Tommy Miller is — even though you know this is far from his fault. 

The pair stands before you. The woman smiles down at you — your body failing to stand until Tommy puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, ushering you up to your feet. 

Why is everything coming out of Tommy’s mouth muffled to your ears? 

Maybe Joel can see the unshed tears in your eyes, but he stops the introduction on its head — the pity clear in his voice. That you can hear. The honey-rich, southern — homey — sound of his drawl punching through the sound barrier of stupid teenage hurt feelings and childish jealousy wrapped around you like a blanket—

“You alright, sweetheart?” 

There it is again. That fucking pet name that holds you in a vice grip, sends shooting electricity down your spine, makes you want to scream out to the entire bar — please — please. Just stop this bullshit, end it. Press rewind to five minutes ago when things seemed to be going good and make this — fucking please — make this stop. 

But you don’t say that. The tears recede at his voice, you smile up at him like a scene rehearsed and then back to the blonde. She stares at you, her brow a bit cocked and at his words — you know this is far from the acting normal you and Joel unspokenly try to adhere to. Even in the worst circumstances — like this one. 

“Yeah,” you brush him off quickly, he moves to speak but you cut him off, a surprisingly cool tone braced on your lips. 

“Nice to meet you,” you smile, taking her hand, telling her your name. “Tommy said you’re his neighbor?” 

“Yeah that’s right,” she laughs. “Quite the handyman.” 

“I try my best,” Tommy jests from beside you. She laughs. 

“Caroline,” she finishes with, dropping your hand. You smile back. 

She’s pretty, and nice, and fucking funny and you want to be so fucking mean to her because she’s got her hands all over Joel and she’s insanely gorgeous but you know better. You like to think you're far from your teenage years — even if you feel like you’re drowning in your numbers. 

You can see her better in this light. 

A lump in your throat forms because what’s even worse than her being pretty is that she looks older. 

More like Tommy — more like Joel. 

More age appropriate. 

Less like you. 

“So what do you do?” Caroline says as you all sit. 

“Oh. I’m Joel’s nanny—” you stifle an awkward laugh. You’ve never said that out loud. 

“Joel needs a nanny?” she bites back with a witty smirk on her face. Everyone laughs. 

“I’m Sarah’s babysitter, just got my bachelors in May though,” you laugh back. She nods. 

“What did you study?” 

“English.” 

“Ah. English. Remember those days.” 

“What do you do?” 

“I’m a journalist. Work for some company no one cares about, blah blah blah. You get it,” she says, sipping on her drink. 

Great. Journalist. 

“Do you like it?” Tommy asks from beside you. You get lost in her words, not really hearing anything besides how she's better and farther along in a similar field as you. 

You mumble something to Tommy about how you need another drink, hopping to the bar when everyone settles into the conversation. 

Like clockwork, you can feel Joel’s eyes on you, tracking you across the bar and when you slip further into the crowd. 

You push through to get to the bathroom but when you arrive, you freeze. 

How could you be so stupid? 

You’re surprised the door to that bathroom doesn’t show your fingerprints and scratch marks from the other side. You remember it being nicer than it currently stands before you. A small smile finds its way to your lips at the thought. Everything seems to fade when you think about that night — when you think about how Joel makes you feel. 

But you can’t go back in. That would be setting yourself up for the ultimate failure. Disqualifying you from the race because of a faulty start. 

You push into the next bathroom, some ways down the small hallway. 

The door shuts behind you, a rumbling tune plays through the walls of the bathroom, shaking the mirror and ruining the look you try to get at yourself. You can almost see the fatal flaw written on your face through the rippling glass: the thought that this would ever work out between you and Joel. 

~

The woman beside Joel keeps touching him. 

It’s not that it bothers him, particularly. It’s just that he can feel her wanting need pulse off her body like a fire alarm. The thought that he might look her way now is comical. Especially when you slip towards the bathroom. The same fucking bathroom all those weeks ago. Like it’s been sitting here waiting for the two of you to get inside and let hell break loose. 

But it stares at Joel and bites back with teeth and fangs when you slip inside. Normally a smirk or even a wide smile would be wedged on his face from the implication. Follow me inside, tell me what you’re thinking with your actions, not words. Pin me up against the wall, let me say your name. Let me tell you I’m yours. But everything about right now screams the opposite of That Night. 

It’s different this time. Instead, he can feel the sadness at your greeting and the look in your eye that followed. 

Tommy is such a fucking idiot.

 Joel’s always known there was a temper on Tommy since they were young. And there has always been that godforsaken sibling rivalry because Tommy turned out to be a good man. And as Joel reasons with himself — maybe Tommy is a better man than he is because all Joel wants to do is follow you into the bathroom, see if you’re alright, ask you to forget about this nonsense and just stay with him. Don’t let this push you to Tommy. Don’t let this ruin everything that’s been building. 

Maybe that makes him a bad man for wanting. But maybe it also makes him a good man for not following through. 

He can’t even drink anymore. The light beers are clearing from his head, but honestly, he was dead sober at the sight of you with unshed tears in your eyes. 

But when you emerge from the bathroom like nothing is wrong, Joel falters. He isn’t sure what to do when you request a drink from the bar — and he isn’t sure what to do when it turns out to be a shot, you down it in one gulp and don’t ask for a chaser. 

Maybe you want it to hurt. 

It’s the first indication that something — anything — is wrong. And Joel would wager a million on what that something is. 

Joel thought it had been clear the night of the dinner at his house. He thought his silent words snuck into Tommy’s brain enough to send a clear signal. Back off, dude. 

But apparently it didn’t. Because this woman is sitting next to him, and her hand rests on his knee now. And she keeps snaking her fingers through to rest on his bicep. And he’s just about had enough. 

“You should come. Right, Joel?” 

“Huh,” he pushes out, looking back to his brother. 

“To my party?” 

It’s almost like Tommy is pleading with him. And he’s not sure what to say. Of course he doesn’t want her to come. But it’s Tommy’s party and the kick under the table from Tommy’s boot forces the words out of his mouth even though he wants to say the opposite. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

Tommy gives him a look. Joel knows this woman — Caroline — is nice. Hell, she might’ve even caught his eye if he wasn’t worshiping the ground you walk on. Maybe Tommy knew that too, and that’s why he invited her. She seems nice, and funny, but Joel can’t get you off his mind. The thought of you — like a bee who won’t quit buzzing around a flower. 

“Need some water. Y’all want anythin’?” 

They shake their heads and give their thanks but Joel wasn’t really paying much attention to them anyways. He can only look around the bar and see an apparent lack of your figure — anywhere. 

He stands and searches for you, only to see your figure in a flash, walking towards the entrance. He catches your arm and you turn to him, a feigned, sad smile appears on your face. 

Jesus. 

You can’t even look him in the eyes — hold the unbreaking eye contact he made a mental note of when you two first met. 

“What a’you doin’?” Joel asks, trying to keep his voice from wavering. 

“Need some air,” you say. 

Joel follows you wordlessly. He doesn’t care if his date or his brother sees him walk you out. It’s nothing to hide from. You guys are — friends. 

The cool air hits his skin. He sees that you’re cold, but doesn’t want to hold you against him like he desperately needs to — at the implication that maybe you’d turn him down. Or worse, push him away. 

“So…a party,” Joel starts with, grimacing internally at his chosen words. 

“Yeah — if you don’t wanna help, you don’t have to. I was just joking in ther—” 

Joel cuts you off. It hurts a bit — the thought that you think he wouldn’t want to help you. 

“I do — wanna help.” 

You smile shyly. 

“Pick me up tomorrow? We’ll go shopping.” 

“Be there at four, Sarah's goin’ to a friend’s for dinner and a sleepover.”

“She’s got more social battery than me,” you chuckle, looking back into the bar. 

“You ‘n me combined — maybe she got it from Tommy.” 

“Maybe,” you echo. 

Suddenly, the air feels less playful. 

“I didn’t know,” Joel starts with because he doesn’t know what else to say. His words make you laugh a bit. He doesn’t know what to do anymore. All he wants is you. 

“I know —” another laugh, but he knows you think none of this is funny. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” 

Is it just him or is the glint in your eyes gone?

“No, I…Jesus. Tommy just — fuckin’ — I don’t know her, I — know of her. But I didn’t tell him I wanted to meet her.” 

“Joel,” you say, your voice breaking a bit. “It’s okay.” 

But it’s not okay. He can see that much displayed on your face. 

“She seems nice,” you note. His brows furrow because he can tell you’re being genuine. Why does it seem like you want him to admit it too?

“C’mon,” he says, a harsh chuckle in the form of a crisp breath escapes his mouth, pleading with you— 

Stop this. 

~

“What do you want me to say?” you whisper, breathless. He stares back at you like he doesn’t know what could possibly be running through your head. You need him to say his truth now. Or honestly? You’re not sure it’ll ever come out and you’ll be left behind forever. 

“Anythin’ but that,” he breathes, the air puffs cold around your face.

You want to speak but nothing comes out. You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold biting through your thin top. He looks unmoving and warm. But he stands with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

Why isn’t he holding you?

“Well she does,” his brows cock at your words. “Seem nice.”

“I don’t like her. I —” 

I like you. I want you. I need you. 

It’s on the tip of his tongue. Maybe he’s about to confess and the dam holding all your feelings from the last month will break through. But he’s searching for the words — and that’s when you know. Because he shouldn’t be searching for anything. Not when it comes so easy to you. Not when what he makes you feel is threatening to spill from your lips at every chance you get. He shouldn’t be searching for the right things to say when you can think of a million possibilities. 

He steps forward, grabbing your hand in his. His fingers play with yours as you wait with bated breath. Waiting for the —

Be with me, stay with me. Forget about them. Forget about everything. I just need you. 

You hold out for one last moment. Maybe he can’t articulate his feelings as well as they ring true in his mind. 

You step back a bit, moving to turn, moving to open your body as a silent invitation for him to follow you. Your fingers pull on his a bit towards your direction, pulling him, propelling him towards what you want him to say. But he doesn’t say those words. Instead— 

“Where are you goin’?” 

Your hand holding his fingers pulls slightly again. A life raft. A beacon of hope. The last twinge that you have to offer him so he can finally break down his walls and be with you. 

Because that’s all you want. You just want him. 

“Home.” 

You say it. It might be the first time since Caroline walked through the doors that he’s looked into your eyes. You’re pleading with him. With every ounce in your body. Just fucking say it. 

It's a silent invitation, you ask him with your eyes. And with the fingers pulling at his. 

Come with me. To my house, to my bed. Stay with me. Come with me. Leave them behind, and stay the night, stay till the next night too. Forget about the blonde laughing at Tommy’s jokes. Hell, forget about Tommy. Just fucking ditch this hell hole and take me home. And come with me and don’t ever leave. 

Please. 

But it seems like you both don’t talk as well with your eyes as you thought. And it seems like you don’t know this man in front of you at all. 

Because he steps back a bit, nodding, dropping your reaching fingers, and says those fatal words that solidify your fatal flaw. 

“I’ll get Tommy to drive you home.” 

~

Joel arrives at Caroline’s house. She somehow convinced him to drop her off at home. She keeps insisting Joel come in for a night cap. But he’s too fucking sad and pissed to even consider speaking to her for another two minutes longer. 

His head pounds. But not from the alcohol, from the quiet heartbreak settling in his chest at the memory of your words. At everything that had happened that night. It was meant to be a fun evening. But when he left you outside the bar, and ran to fetch Tommy, he knew this would go down in one of his most regrettable moments. And his most sad, too. 

Home.

The word rings in Joel’s ears. But you looked so fucking sad and you were already moving away from him. He had failed to say what he really meant to say — I want you. I just need you.

Maybe that truly was the end and maybe he failed to say what he thought and it turned you off. Made him unwanted in your eyes. 

Solidified the fact that he might never be a good man. 

Not like Tommy. 

But you were turning away — your fingers hanging onto his because he was the one who grabbed your hand first, and pulled you towards him with his fingers, his eyes, with his body — desperately. 

You kept pulling away — pulled away with sad eyes and he desperately wanted you to stay but he couldn’t make you do anything. Not when you look like that and you sound equally sad and broken. 

So he thought of what you deserve. Maybe even what you wanted at that moment. 

He finally dropped your hands, the warm spots your fingers held — were trapped under, brushed against the cold and Joel shivered. 

“I’ll get Tommy to drive you home.” 

He said it, but didn’t want to act on his words. He wanted to be the one to drive you home and to slip into your house, then maybe into your bed after that. 

But he wasn’t — you didn't want him to. 

He was sitting in the truck outside Caroline’s house as she pulls all her best tricks to get him to come inside. 

But he brushes them all off, and drives back in silence until he slumps in bed. 

~

“Fuckin’ — sit up, Jesus,” Tommy says, pulling your body upright in the passenger seat of the truck. 

You grumble with him. 

“‘M fine laying down. Stop micromanaging me.” 

You’re drunk.

The shot you took before talking to Joel outside the bar was beginning to take root. And all the other shots after that, when Tommy ushered you in to grab one last drink, and you just happened to down three more before leaving. 

“‘M not — mircomana— you’re a fuckin’ piece of work.” 

You smile lazily at him. 

“Like you aren’t?” 

He laughs back. 

There's a tense silence after Joel’s name pops up on Tommy’s phone that sits comfortably on the center dash. 

Tommy speaks first. 

“What’d you and Joel talk about?” 

“Oh, nothing,” you say, his head twitching a bit at your too-broad, overarching answer. “Your party,” you say when you think he might pry too much. 

“Joel isn’t gonna help you with that, you know.” 

His words make you freeze. Joel actually was going to help  — or was supposed to before the shit show outside the bar. 

“We’ll see. Can do it on my own too, though.” 

“Thanks again for offering, I — I know it’s dumb.” 

“‘S not dumb. ‘N I wanted to do it,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. 

“Well thanks anyways.” 

You hum in response, looking out the window into darkness. 

“What’d you think of Joel’s date?” 

Your eyes widen and suddenly, you don’t feel as drunk, sitting up a bit at his question. 

“That’s what it was? A date?” you say with a nervous chuckle. 

“I guess,” he laughs. “Don’t know what else to call it.” 

“She’s nice,” you say, echoing your words to Joel. Somewhere in the back of your mind you note how that sends a pang to your chest. 

“I don’t know if he was interested,” Tommy notes. 

That doesn’t really give you as much relief as you would’ve hoped for. You’re not hurt because of Caroline. You’re hurt because of everything that happened after. When you tried to get him to take you home, and he pulled away. 

Tommy continues when you don’t respond. 

“Took her home though.” 

Now that sends a shooting throb to your heart. 

Like it’s saying Of course he did. Even though that doesn’t seem very much like Joel at all. 

“Really?” 

“Yup. ‘N I think she’s comin’ to the party. Seemed excited ‘bout it.”

“Oh,” you reply dumbly. You’re sure that’s not helping your case when trying to be indifferent about Joel’s dating life. 

Tommy pulls up to your driveway. 

Tense silence follows after he puts the truck in park. 

“Is that —  like —  an issue?”

 Your heart starts beating a little bit faster.

“No, why would it be?”

“Just wonderin’,” he says with a sigh.

“Is it an issue for you?” 

“No. Think she’s good for him.” 

There it is again. 

Good for him. 

Are you not good for him?

You brush it off quickly, moving to unlatch your seatbelt. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, but Tommy’s hand reaches out and stops your movements. You tentatively look up, scared of what might be looking back. He looks a bit pained, or maybe scared — though his hardened brow doesn’t give much emotion. 

“I had fun tonight — you looked — look good,” he says, pulling you a little closer, he’s starting to dip his head ever so slightly. If you weren’t paying him so much attention you might not have even noticed his movements. 

You don’t pull away. 

That would be the end of everything with your friendship. But you would be lying if you said you weren’t terrified — apparently the look is clearly etched on your face. 

He laughs a bit suddenly, pulling away. 

“Jesus.” 

“What – what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’. I —” he pauses for a long time. 

You’re scared of what he might say. 

“Can I…can I take you out? Like — just the two of us?” 

You stare at him with wide eyes. You force yourself to breathe, a couple short puffs of air slip past your lips. 

“Oh, I — like you want to go out for food?” 

“Food,” he huffs out a short breath mixed with a chuckle. It makes your breath hitch, the uncertainty and knowing he’s acting so strange right now. 

“No, like — like a date. I guess.” 

_

chapter v. just you

taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. (for this series, i took the liberty of adding you to the taglist if you commented that you wanted more parts on chaser. you can let me know if you want to be taken off) kisses!

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#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #the last of us hbo #joel miller #joel miller self insert #the last of us #joel fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal as joel miller #joel miller smut #smut #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x you #tlou fanfiction #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #dom!joel #dom!joel miller #tommy miller #chaser

[mrsshabana]

Patient!Gyutaro x Nurse!Reader - CHAPTER 1

Chapter 2

✦ CW: 18+ MDNI, female reader. Mentions of mental illness, suicide, and sexual abuse of a minor. This fic has many dark themes, please do not read unless you are comfortable!

✦ AN: The long awaited nurse au is finally here! Sorry it took me so long, but I wanted to make sure it was perfect. Lots of thought and research went into making this fic. There will also be art included in this chapter!

✦ WC: 2,146

This is what you should have expected from a job in the medical field that didn’t require much qualifications. Working at an asylum wasn’t ideal, but they are incredibly desperate for new nurses. As most of them are unable to handle the physical and mental toll that a place like this puts on someone. 

It’s your first day at your new job. You were excited until you entered the building. The dreary interior mixed with the groans and screams of unruly patients wasn’t the welcome that you had been hoping for.

You’re young, almost too young to be working at a place like this. The other nurses didn’t take you seriously, and they were going to make the transition for you more difficult than it needed to be. You were being assigned to a patient that is notorious for being difficult to work with. The other nurses use him to weed out the weak. Always shifting the new hires to care for him. They usually leave within the first week, so his care returns to one of the veteran nurses known for having a mind of steel. She’s cold hearted, but that helps you deal with a job like this. The complete opposite of you. A warm young woman, eager to treat and rehabilitate.

Currently you are being led to your new patient. Quickly scanning over his records as you follow the nurse through the halls of the sanatorium.

Rashomon Riverbank Asylum

Patient Record

Name: Shabana, Gyutaro

Identification Data: Sex: Male Age: 23 Height: 6’ 3” Weight: 134

Race: Asian Hair: Black Eye: Blue

Special Handling Code: Code Red; Keep medicated Special Handling Instructions: Keep away from sharp objects

Medical History: Multiple suicide attempts, Complications due to sickle cell anemia, Treated for Congenital Syphilis

Diagnoses: Sickle Cell Anemia Hutchinson’s Teeth Borderline Personality Disorder Antisocial Personality Disorder Depression Insomnia

Current Medical Treatment: Special diet for weight gain Medications given AM & PM

Medications: Wellbutrin - 100 mg twice daily Abilify - 10 mg once daily Carbamazepine - 350 mg twice daily Xanax - 2 mg twice daily Trazodone - 150 mg once daily Voxelotor - 500 mg once daily Adakveo - 5 mg IV infusion once every 4 weeks

Gyutaro Shabana, your very first patient at Rashomon Riverbank Asylum. Looking over his record, this is going to be a difficult one. You’ve learned about a majority of these diagnoses in college, so you have a good idea about the kind of treatment he will require. It’s strange though, he seems to have lost the genetic lottery. And you haven't even seen his face yet, you can only imagine what he may look like.

An asian man with sickle cell anemia is almost unheard of, roughly 0.0022%. And on top of that he was born with Congenital Syphilis. It’s quite frankly amazing that he’s lived past 20.

“Just introduce yourself, then I’ll take you to your other patients,” the other nurse says as she stops in front of his door. 

Not wanting to be impolite, you hesitantly knock on his door. There’s no response. You figured that there wouldn’t be, so you open the door anyways.

“Hello, Mr. Shabana?” you say coyly.

When you peek into the room, you are instantly frozen by his icy gaze. He’s sitting on his bed with a book in his lap. His cold blue eyes send shivers down your spine.

“I’m um… I’m your new nurse.” you choke out. He’s feet away from you but you feel as though his hands have a tight grasp around your throat.

“My name is Y/N. Um… If you ever need anything d-don’t hesitate to call for me…”

The expression on his face is unchanging, as he remains silent.

“Well I’ll see you later tonight Mr. Shabana…”

Closing the door, breaking the line of sight that he had on you, instantly you feel a surge of relief.

You go on to visit the rest of your patients, then you come back later that night to give Mr. Shabana his dinner. A high protein meal, specifically for weight gain.

Knocking on the door a few times before you push it open, “Mr. Shabana, I have your dinner.”

He’s in the same spot where you left him, sitting on his bed with a book in his lap. But this time he doesn’t even bother to look at you when you enter the room.

Stepping closer to place the food tray on his table, you inspect his appearance. 

His clothes hang off of his frame, enveloping his skeletal body. You can make out lean muscles on his arms, but his face is sunken and his pants hang low on his hips. There are large black marks scattered across his face, and you can barely see one peeking out from below his sleeve. Were these marks from his Congenital Syphilis? Dark circles sit below his eyes, he looks as though he hasn’t slept in weeks.

He’s wearing the standard issue uniform that all patients wear. A plain t-shirt and pants, made of the same material as scrubs. Though his feet are bare, slippers sitting below the edge of the bed. His hair is long and wavy. Black as midnight, unruly in the way it hangs in front of his face. The top of his hair is half haphazardly tied up.

“Got a problem…?” He rasps, drawing out each word.

The venom of his sour tongue sends a jolt of electricity through your skin. 

“Huh?” you’ve been sitting there staring at him for too long, “O-oh! I’m sorry sir! There’s no problem, please enjoy your dinner,” you quickly rush out of the room.

As you continue on giving food to the rest of your patients, Mr. Shabana’s voice echoes through your skull.

Got a problem…? Got a problem…? Got a problem…?

A few hours later, you go back to retrieve the tray and whatever food may have not been eaten. Stopping yourself before you open the door. It’s ok. He’s just a patient. Then why does he make you so nervous?

*Knock knock*

“Hello Mr. Shabana, I’m just here to collect your tray,” you chime, masking your fear with a smile.

Walking back into the dimly lit room, the fluorescent lights flickering. His eyes staring into you.

His food has been untouched. The only thing that was eaten was a packaged cookie.

“Not hungry today?” your voice shakes as you try to ignore his harsh gaze.

He remains silent. Watching you as you step closer. The buzzing of the fluorescent bulbs filling the room, filling your brain with static.

“Was it not to your liking? I can have the cooks make something else for you if you’d like.”

“...”

Your eyes meet. His thin eyebrows furrow, the rest of his expression remains unchanging. The pressure of his glare makes the air around you feel heavy. Pressing down on you, compressing your spine, you feel so small when he looks at you. You’re desperate to fill the cold aura with some warmth.

“Mr. Shabana you really should eat-”

*CRASH*

He slaps the tray out of your hand, food splattering onto your uniform, dripping onto the floor. 

Silence. You’re stuck staring down at your feet. Watching the pool of meat, vegetables, and milk spread around you. It takes you a few moments to fully process what has just happened, only able to snap out of it when you feel the wetness of the food seeping through your skirt, making you feel cold.

You regret looking up at him. Regret meeting his eyes. Filled with amusement.

“You better clean that up… don’t chu think…?” He smirks. Showing his sharp canines and crooked teeth.

“I-I…” you mumble, looking back down at the mess. He’s right, you should clean it up before it gets everywhere.

Going into the hallway, you grab some towels and return to his room. Not thinking your next actions through as you get down on all fours and start picking up the mess. All you want to do is hurry and clean this up so you can leave. But Mr. Shabana has different plans.

He slowly stands up. Looming over you, looking down on you with a twisted grin. He’s so tall… he makes you feel so small as you look up at him. So pathetic. So worthless.

“You look good down there…” he steps on your hand, “On your knees like a whore…”

His words leave you speechless. Your vision begins to blur and your heart starts to race. He pushes his weight further onto your hand, until you feel a crack.

“I’d like to see you like this more often…” he chuckles, the sound rumbling in his hollow chest.

Every instinct within your body is screaming at you to run. But you feel so trapped. So paralyzed by him. Like a rabbit cornered against a wall by a vicious predator. His eyes. It’s his eyes. No, it's his touch. It’s… everything about him. 

You try to speak up, but your words escape you. Coming out in a pathetic whine that makes his grin widen and his laughter intensify. 

He’s reaching for you. His hand is coming towards your face. Your mind is telling you that if you let him get any closer you will die. He will kill you. And he won’t even care.

Your body is pumped with enough adrenaline for you to break free from the physical and psychological hold he had on you.

Pulling your hand away from under his foot, you push yourself backwards. Stumbling to stand up on your feet. You run out of the room and through the halls, not risking looking back at him. All you hear as you escape is his laughter on repeat. You can’t tell if his laughter is echoing through the halls, or if it has just been ingrained into your mind.

You keep running until you get back to the nurses quarters and to your room. 

Tears running down your cheeks, food staining your clothes, and pain throbbing in your hand. You collapse on the floor and cry.

Why would he be so cruel? You understand that he’s a patient and has a list of mental illnesses, but you were trying to help him! You can’t even remember what you were doing or why you were in his room. All you remember is him and how he made you feel. His stare. His voice. His touch. 

Fuck him and fuck this job.

Clambering over to your desk, you immediately start writing your resignation letter.

You don’t get paid enough for this shit. All you wanted to do is help people, and you get repaid with this? It’s just not worth it. Through your sobs, your tears fall onto the page as you hastily move your pen on the piece of parchment in front of you.

There. It’s done. You’re done.

You won’t have to see this place, see him, ever again once you submit this letter.

Looking around your desk, searching for an envelope. You come across a thick manilla folder. The tab on the side reads, Shabana, Gyutaro.

Something compels you to open it. You already skimmed through his information, but you never looked at everything here.

His psychiatric notes? From his psychiatrist? These shouldn’t be in here… you shouldn’t have access to this confidential information.

But if you’re leaving anyways… then there’s no harm. Right?

Shabana, Gyutaro - Dr. Hantengu

August 14

Childhood trauma starting since birth

Single mother, no father

Raised as a female. Mother would dress patient as a daughter. Would cover up his deformities with makeup. (Feelings of worthlessness, not belonging)

Sister born at age 6 (turning point in patient’s life)

Mother cast aside patient for sister. (When he learned he was actually a boy. Feeling of confusion. Child cannot comprehend)

Sexual abuse started at age 10

Mother was a prostitute, would offer children to adult clients.

 Patient record, “She would bring men into our house… and let them touch us. (long pause) They wanted my sister. They wanted to do bad things to her. So I… (patient gets upset) I would offer myself to them. I would perform sexual acts for them so they would leave Ume (sister) alone.”

Sexual abuse continued until age 15

Mother died of overdose. The children were left in the home for over a week until someone found them.

Children taken to orphanage. 

Patient held in orphanage for 8 months until incident.

Brought to Asylum at age 16

End of first session 

You are left speechless. 

Reading his records reminds you of why you wanted to be a nurse in the first place. To help people that have gone through trauma such as this. He didn’t lash out at you because of something you did. It’s not your fault. And it isn’t his either. He just needs help. 

And you will be the one to help him.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #nurse au #nurse reader #gyutaro fanart #kny fanart #demon slayer fanart #hantengu

[satforsatoru]

𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫

➪ 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐭. 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

ive been an academic victim on the weekdays and a party girl on the weekends but im back hopefully

The obnoxious ringing of a phone alarm cut through the layers of sleep, forcing you to wake. Without opening your eyes, you already knew something was off. It was a Saturday, so you didn’t have an alarm set, meaning that it was something else. 

The sinister thought caused you to bolt upright, searching for the source of the annoying noise. You didn’t find a phone, but something far more startling greeted your eyes. 

Splayed out on the other side of the bed, was none other than your co-worker and friend, Geto Suguru. He laid on his stomach, face hiding in his elbow and hair spread out around him. If you weren’t so horrified and confused about everything about this, you would’ve taken a moment to appreciate such a pretty sight. 

You slowly backed out of your bed, trying to piece together the moments before this, but all you could pull from the depths of your memory was going to a bar with Shoko and Utahime. A chill went up your spine and you hurried to check your state of dress. 

Completely clothed, you thought in relief, but you noticed that they certainly weren’t the ones you’d gone out in. What had happened last night? And most importantly, why wasn’t Suguru getting up when it was his phone that was blaring so loudly? 

“Suguru!” You hissed, pushing at his shoulder, a raging headache beginning to take hold of you. Between the hangover that was making itself known, the continuous alarm, and your current situation, you were expecting an awful morning. 

A low groan left him and you paused at the sound. Had his voice always been that deep? Shaking yourself as if to physically rid yourself of your thought process, you pushed at him again. “Wake up, Suguru, your alarm is ridiculous,” You grumbled.

The ravenette didn’t move and, for a moment, you feared that he still wouldn’t wake up until you saw his head move to the side and his eyes peek out from under his hair. “‘Mornin’,” He rasped, lips curving into a smile. 

You had to take a pause, struck by not only his soft smile and morning voice, but the way he was hugging one of your pillows like he belonged there, comfortable in your bed. “Your alarm…” You deflected, covering your face to orient yourself. 

You heard a soft chuckle, some rustling, and then the screaming phone was finally shut off. “What do you remember from last night?” Suguru spoke, sitting up. You shook your head and crossed your arms, still awkward, even in your room. 

“Nothing besides initially going out,” You sighed, still racking your brain. “You’re not going to ask what I’m doing here?” He grinned, running a hand through his hair. You shifted on your feet and shot him a look. 

“I assumed that would go without saying…” Suguru’s grin widened at your words and he cocked his head as if questioning you. “Really? You don’t remember calling me and practically demanding that I come to help you out since apparently your getting black-out drunk was my fault?” 

You could only blink owlishly at him, already mortified because you knew exactly what he was getting at. During work, one of your coworkers had been all over Suguru, although there was obviously something between you two, even if that something was unlabeled. 

When he hadn’t fended her off, but instead indulged in it, you felt jealousy burn hotly in your system, before that gave way to defeat. Shoko had reasoned that the only way to get rid of it was to go out and find your own ‘distraction’. Utahime had largely been against the idea, but she didn’t want to pass up on a fun night, so she opted for being designated driver.  But, clearly, if you ended up with Surguru in your bed with you unable to remember how it had happened, something had gone very wrong. 

You shifted your weight from foot to foot, not at all knowing how to respond to him and his piercing gaze. “At first, I assumed it was drunken ramblings… but it was hard to ignore when you told me that I should only ever flirt with you…” He continued, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you and make you come all the way over here, but-”

“But you were jealous?” Suguru finished, running a hand through his hair, not even trying to bite back his smirk. 

And just like that, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach turned to a lead weight that made you uncomfortable. At first it seemed like Suguru was teasing you, but now it felt as though he was just here to mock you and your feelings. 

“As I was saying,” You muttered, looking away, “I’m sorry you came all the way here, but I’m fine now and you don’t have to stay,” You finished, making your way to your bedroom door to open it. 

“Hey, wait, you’re trying to get rid of me already?” The ravenette called out, catching your wrist in his hand. You just avoided his gaze, not knowing exactly what he was getting at. “You don’t think I’d do this for just anyone do you?” He murmured, stepping closer to you.

“I’m just confused,” You sighed, risking a glance at him. A small smile pulled at his lips and his hand moved from your wrist to your hand. “I should’ve made it clearer, the way I feel about you,” He started, pressing his lips to the palm of your hand.

Your face burned, but you didn’t turn away from his gaze. “Well, how do you feel…?” You asked quietly. His smile widened and he drew you impossibly closer to him. “Knowing that I’ll see you every day, makes waking up in the morning so much easier for me. We’ve been dancing around each other for a while now, but… I want to define what we have. I want you to be mine,” He asserted, his hands snaking around your waist.

The flutters in your chest were back with a vengeance, but before you could let embarrassment take hold, you were grabbing Suguru by his collar. 

His sound of surprise was almost immediately muffled by your lips as you pulled him closer. Words weren’t your strong suit, but you knew there was no way for him to misinterpret your actions. With hardly any hesitation, the ravenette was sinking into the kiss and taking control of it, his arms tightening around you. 

All too soon, however, it was over and you were met with his fond smile. “Can we go back to bed? I think we both deserve it,” He grinned pulling you closer to him. 

And who were you to turn down being held by your new lover?

requests are open and reblogs are appreciated!

#💎diamond encrusted #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk suguru #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto fluff

[despairparfait]

AS AN OLDER BROTHER? — r. rosehearts.

i. SYNOPSIS. what, perchance, would heartslabyul's riddle rosehearts be like as an older brother? my personal not very in-depth analysis.

ii. PREMISE. riddle rosehearts x sibling!reader. (linear headcanons)

i. Stated in the absolute nicest way possible, I feel as though Riddle's younger sibling would have experienced the very brunt of his pre-overblot behaviour. The strictness; the over-studying; the routines; they have lived through just as much as the Heartslabyul dorm members, but probably twice as bad.

Though, what makes you, said Rosehearts sibling, different from the Night Raven College students? You have never been subjected to the ghastly collar treatment. Why is that? Alongside whatever lessons and such are put in place by your mother, Riddle's routines are personally tailored for the very purpose that you will attend Night Raven College alongside him one day. Thus, you know the rules.

So when you began your studies as a first year, just as Riddle was entering his second, you found yourself the most burdened student in the Heartslabyul dorm with your elder brother constantly on your back. Yet your dorm mates viewed you as the most studious, the one to turn to if not to Vice Trey Clover — and just as much as both you and they wished that you were able to negotiate Riddle out of more lenient sentences, you were unable to. But you could do your very best in helping everybody avoid them, by letting them know of their rule-breaking in advance to Riddle noticing.

(Not that any of your warnings would have ever stopped a particular Trappola, no matter if you yanked that chestnut tart from his hands and stomped on it.)

ii. After fourth period, back to the dorm and cram in an hour's worth of studying as Riddle has his afternoon tea. Then, assist in preparing for the unbirthday party. Once finished assigned tasks, studying until the party's start. You regularly find your schedule filled to the brim on the daily, handwritten and placed on your desk personally by your generous older brother by the time you even awaken. On one hand, it's agitating. On the other, you know that it's just a way that has been drilled into his head by your mother, that good grades and an ace magical ability is what is expected of those coming from your golden lineage. (Thanks to this schedule that he keeps you to religiously, you are placed top of the class for the first years. Rendering the Rosehearts name to be dominating the academic boards for two different years.)

iii. However, he will not just leave you to your own devices for this schedule. He will regularly check in on you as you are studying, inquiring as to what it is that you are working on at the time. As much as it is to snoop and ensure you're not slacking off, it is also a way to ask whether there is anything that you are currently struggling with. He will not even acknowledge the rift he causes in his own schedule as he merely sits opposite you to help you with something that you are finding difficult.

iv. If there is anything at all regarding you that annoys him, it's your budding friendship with Ace. Maybe at first it was a subtle fear that his troublemaking ways will become a bad influence on you, but then that annoyance grew as the ginger continued to pull you away from your studies time and time again. At the beginning, you were extremely hesitant to follow him as he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from your desk, calling you boring. But as this continued, you began to hide the fact you were even disappearing, which irked Riddle to no end. He would unapologetically storm the dorm in order to find where you two were hiding, intending to off Trappola of his head the very second he sees him. Yet why couldn't Riddle notice the irony which was his hatred of this friendship, and how he was projecting his own friendship with Trey and Chen'ya onto you two?

v. During the events leading up to Riddle's overblot, I see both Ace and Deuce working their little socks off as they attempt to get you on their side of the rebellion. But the fact your brother is practically your shadow whilst in the dorm, it was impossible for them to get you alone long enough to complain about him. Especially considering you'd find Riddle sitting with you as you study increasingly often to bat Ace and his truancy away.

vi. Yet, your dorm life did tend to get increasingly better after Riddle overblotted. Him coming to terms with who he is and what he has gone through, recognising his tyrannic ways and accepting that he can be better. To some degree, he saw you as the poster child of how miserable his influence has made the dorm. Noticing and regretting the fact that he has treated you just as harshly as his mother did to him, becoming the very person that caused him to be as he is. Although his vow to be more lenient with the rules was a substantial change for most Heartslabyul students, you were definitely the one that experienced the most change after he came to his senses.

vii. You immediately noticed the fact that you wouldn't find a lengthy schedule on your desk anymore when you woke up. His handwritten notes were no longer a daily thing, instead, becoming almost termly and coinciding with your timetabled lessons. It became less of a minute-by-minute routine, and more of a general sheet of paper to look at before the day to see what classes you have, and what dorm events are planned. Although there would still be jotted timeslots for studying, they'd be a lot less like in-negotiable demands, and more friendly reminders that Thursday morning at 10:15am, you don't have any lessons so you could probably get some homework done.

viii. His random visits while you're studying, or just generally doing whatever as you have a lot more time and freedom on your hands now, become a lot less frequent and imposing. Yet when he does appear, you notice how the way he approaches you is a lot different from before. Rather than what you're studying, he would ask how you're doing. Not academically, but mentally. He would begin show genuine concern about your wellbeing, taking into account the stress of school, which was not something he batted an eyelash about before.

ix. Deep, probably late-night conversations leading to that winter break planning the discussions you two are going to have with your mother when you return home for the holidays. Despite it being a difficult subject to discuss, it proves to become an extremely helpful icebreaker between you two. Acknowledging the source of your respective traumas, and coming up with a plan in order to settle everything once and for all. Which would probably take a whole lot of effort, and even more time, but if you two can discuss that of all things, then you'd probably be able to discuss absolutely anything.

x. Pre-overblot Riddle would probably burst a blood vessel at even the thought of you wasting your time and effort on boys. But he'd likely mature quite a bit afterwards when it comes to the subject, with some guidance and (some good, some bad) advice from Trey and Cater. Sure, he'd have his own personal preferences for brother-in-law. He wouldn't want you to date any really bad influences, but he supposes he cannot really stop you from doing what you want. Just don't expect to make it public that you're dating Floyd and not have Riddle banging your door down with the reddest face you've ever seen.

(Just please, please, please don't let it be Ace. He already sees enough of him as it is.)

#ㅤㅤ( LIBRARY . . . mine ✮ #ㅤㅤ( LIBRARY . . . headcanons ✮ #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle #sibling reader #twst imagines #twst sibling reader #platonic twst

[r0ttenhearts]

I AM ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE WITH YOUR ANGST FICS

IVE READ THAT ONE HEIZOU ONE OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND IM CURRENTLY CRYING ABT IT RIGHT NOW

( i really need more heizou angst, pretty please… with a cherry on top )

ANYWAYS I LOVE UR WORKS

🫶🫶🫶🫶

you’re just like them

heizou x reader x slight scaramouche

sypnosis: heizou’s promise to make a new life together after your breakup with scaramouche crumbles

warnings: angst, no comfort, infidelity

“i hate seeing you like this (y/n).” heizou’s soft whisper shook your core as you dropped the shard of glass into the sink. in a fit of rage you had struck your mirror, clutching a shard in your hand at an attempt to clean it up. but you couldn’t let it go. not until the glass sliced through your skin and heizou found you. his concerned voice cut through the still air. none of it felt real, even now.

“i hate feeling like this.” you could only whisper back. your hair now framing your face as silent tears slipped down your cheek. heizou took a step closer to your form that was over the bathroom sink. hesitant arms wrapping around you as you silently wept.

heizou knew you had seen it. the way scaramouche had flaunted a new girl only a few days after dumping you. the new girl in his life had claimed it was their one month anniversary, heizou knew you’d heard it by the way your eyes widened and hands shook.

what he didn’t expect was the rage that came out of you. he expected some tears, but not the angry scream that left your usually sweet lips. the silence that followed the glass shattering was what scared him the most. he’d never seen you in such a state.

but with a gentle tug, heizou had you seated on your couch. a first aid kit next to him on the cushion. he pressed an alcohol pad against your palm where the cut was. you sucked in your teeth at the sting, but didn’t say a word.

with the first wrap of gauze he broke the silence. “i want you to be happy, (y/n). i want you to lean on me in your times of need.. not do things like this. i know i’m scaramouche’s friend but, you come first. i don’t think i can even look at the guy after he’s done this to you.”

your blank stare embarrassed him as he cleared his throat, finishing the wrapping on your hand. “i just care about you, (y/n). i want you to know that. i don’t want you to feel like you’re alone. i’ll make you happy, i promise. i want you to have a happier, better life. one without him.”

“okay.” you whispered. “okay, what?”

“i think.. after everything, you’re the only one who’s shown real care for me. everyone else sided with him. i guess you really are all i have.” you almost mumbled, speaking low as heizou shifted closer to you to hear. he nodded gently before pulling you to him, hugging your shaking form. you hadn’t noticed you were shaking, or the tears that didn’t seem to stop.

after that night things seemed to look up for you. every morning you’d wake up to heizou’s knock at your door. his usual playfully flirty smile on his lips as he’d help you get ready for the day, or follow you around when you had errands. he made it a point to be at your place at least once a day.

the gradual closeness had you weary at first. he was scara’s friend first, after all. you had met heizou at kazuha’s bong party only a year prior. you both had sat in a corner for most of the party after everyone had taken a hit. scara had a tendency to get angry, and you fully intended on staying away from that. but heizou had unexpectedly joined you.

you figured he only made you that promise to get dirt to tell scaramouche. after two months of the same routine with heizou you let your guard down. with that he was almost always with you. he’d find himself at your place more than his own after five months.

five months turned into a new years promise. his hands clutching one of yours as he professed his hidden feelings for you, which you timidly accepted. no one had made you feel the way you felt for him. not as safe or valued.

your third month anniversary didn’t go as planned, though. heizou was late to the reservation you had made for the special day. your brows furrowed as you typed another text to him, asking him where he was.

you didn’t receive a response. so you left, 30 minutes after the time you had gotten to the restaurant.

you blinked back angry tears as you walked to your car. how could he do this to you? he was always with you, so where was he now?

your car door hastily opened and closed, throwing your bag into the passenger seat as you stared at the open chat with heizou. it was filled with nothing but messages and messages from you. his texts were now but a few words long, always short. while your side had multiple lines. had it always been like this?

you had noticed how he shifted away from you during the movie the other night, but you figured he was just getting more comfortable. not getting away from you.

“let me get the door for you, my dear.” a familiar muffled voice made your head shoot up as you saw him. his familiar mop of burgundy hair with that flirty smirk as he held the door open for a woman with blonde hair. you could see the pink tinting her cheeks from behind your windshield. she giggled as he winked, going inside with her, his hand holding onto her hip as the door closed behind them. behind the door for the same restaurant you had made a reservation for.

oh. oh.

taglist: @samarill @whorerificstuff @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @jaderose18 @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @reblog-crazily @gh0sts0up

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #heizou x y/n #heizou angst #heizou x you #heizou x reader #heizou genshin impact #— requests!

[eunnieboo]

IYHM ask replies (thank you!!!)

❤️ Anonymous asked:

hey there just wanted to ask about your book, is there a way of purchase that benefits you most?

hello! this is so thoughtful omg, thank you so much for asking. preordering the book at all is a huge help! more preorders mean there’s a better chance more retailers will want to stock the book, and also lets the publisher know that my work (and hopefully, this kind of story) is something readers are interested in.

i don’t think there’s a specific method of purchase that would benefit me particularly, but i do think this is a lovely opportunity to support an independent bookstore by preordering through them! or if you don’t have the means, requesting it from your local library is always an option.

but again - preordering the book, no matter where or how, means so much. barnes & noble is currently having a 25% off all preorders sale until the 27th, if that interests anybody! i’ve been trying to read more prose novels so i may peruse their collection myself. happy reading!

❤️ u-u-h asked:

Do you know which retailer gives you the largest percentage of the purchase?

i believe it’s all the same! i think the main difference in terms of sales is that hardcovers have a higher return - but i’m not hung up about that, so please get the format you prefer! i will actually not begin to get royalties until a certain number of copies have been sold (i don’t know if “earning out” is a concept exclusive to publishing but i’m happy to talk about that another time), and that’s something out of my control so i can only hope the book does well.

all that is to say, no need to worry about the place of purchase! but i’m so touched by this question. thank you! 🥺

❤️ Anonymous asked:

will there be a chance to pre-order a signed copy of your graphic novel?

my cousin adores your artwork and while i was already going to order a copy for her, i was wondering if ordering a signed version would be possible in the future to order 2 copies; the non-signed for myself and the signed for her. (instead of what i planned which was reading the copy i ordered for her after she read it lol)

omg that’s so sweet of you! HMM ok i looked into this, and i think this is something that can be coordinated with a local bookstore? i think i’d have to come in to sign their stock, and then those signed books could be shipped out. i’ll look into it more but that’s the impression i’m getting!

❤️ ecurps asked:

Congrats on getting published! =D

❤️ Anonymous asked:

congrats on finishing the book🎉‼️‼️ i am so happy and excited for you 💗❣️❤️💕❤️💞💗❣️ ive been following your account for quite a while now and im sooo excited to read it i just cant wait ‼️ wishing u a very successful 2023 👍

thank you so much!!! 😭💖💕🌸✨ AHHH i can hardly believe it myself... i’ve been a hot mess since the cover reveal! i’ve worked on the book for so long that having anyone else perceive it is exciting and terrifying at the same time. it’s like i’m releasing a child into the world haha! but i’m so grateful to everyone for the warm response, and for waiting so patiently. i hope i get to keep making stories like this for a long time ❤️

#anon #u-u-h #ecurps #replies #if you'll have me #momo gardner #priscilla giang #art #iyhm

[vex91]

Ahn Yujin - Sulky puppy

Pairing: Ahn Yujin x Female Reader

Fandom: IZ*ONE / IVE

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: Hey can I request for IVE Yujin x reader, where the reader is the 7th member of IVE and has been currently really touchy and clingy towards other members especially Rei, so Yujin got really jealous. You can decide on the ending as long as it's fluff. Thank you and I love your works so much! <3

Summary: Yujin wasn't the one to get jealous of her friends because of how much she trusted both you and her friends but sometimes she just couldn't help it.

A/N: God I love Yujin so much, thank you for requesting it💕💕 I'm happy that you like my works😊

3rd's POV

Yujin knew that she was in love when she met you for the first time. After catching a sight of you for the first time at the company, a lot of warm feelings rushed through her body and she knew that she had to get to know you better.

And she did. Both of you became incredibly close ever since Yujin approached you during the dance class and offered to help you learn the move you were struggling with and a few months later you started dating. You stayed in touch even after she and Wonyoung debuted in IZ*ONE but because of her busy schedule you weren't able to see each other in person much.

When IZ*ONE disbanded and Yujin had to go back to Starship Entertainment, she was both sad and excited. Sad because of how much she wanted IZ*ONE to continue and stay with her friends but excited because she could finally see you in person and see you more often from now on.

The first thing that Yujin did when she saw you was hugging you and kissing every inch of your face, already planning a date for you both and for the next few days things came back to how they were before Produce 48 and IZ*ONE until your company told you that you were going to debut in a new girl group IVE with Yujin, Wonyoung and other 4 girls that you became friends with during your trainees times.

Your group's debut was a big success and people immediately fell in love with all of you and just like some fans are, there were already some ships on the internet and the most popular one was with you and Yujin. Your chemistry won even against Yujin and Wonyoung's and people quickly started wanting to see more and more of you two, pleasing Yujin. The fact that your fans weren't against you two being so close was making it easier for you two to sneak around.

Your relationship was still a secret, the only people who knew was Wonyoung, IZ*ONE girls and IVE girls and all of them were happy to keep it a secret from your company.

Now Yujin wasn't a person who got jealous of her friends. She could get jealous when a stranger flirted with you but not with her friends, mostly because she trusted you and them. But sometimes during moments where you guys were busy with your new comeback plus with her having individual stuff to do making you two unable to spend some good quality time together, Yujin could get jealous when seeing you so close with other members.

You were naturally a very touchy and clingy person and when you weren't with Yujin, you were with other members. Most specifically Rei who liked your company a lot and didn't minded you clinging to her.

The only person who started minding it was Yujin who was sitting in front of the mirror getting her makeup done with Gaeul sitting next to her and talking until she noticed that her leader's attention was somewhere else. Her eyes drifted to where Yujin was looking and she saw you and Rei cuddling on the couch and looking at her phone while waiting for your turns on making your makeup done for your performance.

It was a rare sight to actually see Yujin jealous over another member so the younger girl's face made Gaeul laugh, earning Yujin's attention immediately "What's wrong unnie?" She asked the older girl who only laughed harder and after calming down a little answered "You really look like a sulky puppy right now. At this rate both Y/N and Rei will notice how much you want to pull them away from each other" making Yujin pout even more.

"I'm not jealous unnie. I'm just tired-" She started and Gaeul immediately showed her that she's listening "I guess I kind of miss her more than I thought that I would ever since this comeback started and my individual work isn't helping" The older girl nodded understanding her leader's situation and after remembering that she had plans with you for the evening she quickly ran up to you and Yujin observed how you talked with her before she came back.

"I cancelled our plans so you can do something together" Yujin was about to protest but Gaeul cutted her off "I don't take no for an answer, just spend some time with your girl. I can do something with her some other time anyway" Yujin smiled at the older girl's words and immediately after her makeup was done she went to ask if you wanted to do something together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Yujin entered your dorm laughing loudly. Your girlfriend took you out to dinner and a walk around the town. You had a great time together and the fact that paparazzi didn't appeared made it even more pleasant. When you guys got back, both of you immediately changed into your pyjamas and instead of going to your own room, you went to hers.

You laid down next to Yujin who quickly pulled you into her arms and sighed contentedly against your hair. She missed this time with you where you two could just enjoy each other's company without having to worry about anything.

Yujin's embrace around you tightened making you laugh "Were you really that jealous of Rei-unnie?" Yujin slowly opened her eyes, ready to protest but she just pulled you even more closer "You can't blame me, you guys looked like a couple these past few days" You hidden your face in Yujin's chest and happily replied "We didn't and you should know that no matter how much I cuddle with her or others that doesn't change the way I feel about you"

Yujin smiled at that and happily closed her eyes, finally feeling fully at peace knowing that at the end of the day you were in her arms and not Rei's.

#vex writes #ive x reader #ive reactions #iz*one x reader #izone x reader #iz*one reactions #izone reactions #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin

[agendabymooner]

colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (4)

Summary:  Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

Chapter summary: Can you actually fall in love fast? or is Tilly just fortunate enough to catch Toto's attention and gain his respect and determination in span of a day? As of this point, she might as well host a slumber party as Daniel and Lewis continue to pester her with the most important topics of her life right now: her family and the hypothetical ones she'd make with Toto.

Content warning: Age gap, brief use of explicit language, discusses the 2014 austrian gp, flirtatious banter, mutual pining kind of romance, platonic relationship with Lewis Hamilton and Daniel Ricciardo, fictional family and business involved (Hearth family and Hearth Automotives Group). NO PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS INVOLVED SORRY

Note: Thank you all so much for the 50 followers! I honestly have been writing these just because I didn't have anything occupy my time and it's a good idea that I posted them up here. knowing that you're enjoying my brain's ideas, it fuels me even more into writing. As of this point I'm currently writing a spin-off for Rush and this series so keep an eye out, I suppose. I hope you all enjoyed today's race because I certainly did (Albon was way too fucking good this weekend, I shit you not). And I hope Alonso's 2nd place makes up for the Father's Day that I'll never get to spend with him. Enjoy xx

masterlist

iv. fast lane but not the race weekend kind

“Regards,

Tilly Marie F. Hearth…”

That should be okay, I tell myself silently as I put away my laptop. It’s only 6 pm, and I already wish to retire to my bed early. 

I can be doing a lot, but instead I’m moping inside my hotel room while I’m waiting for Lewis. Being on a paid vacation is nice; I don’t have to do anything and deal with people. But at the same time, I’m craving more tasks to occupy my time because truthfully, I do NOT want to be stuck in a hotel in Silverstone with nothing to do. I spent my early 20’s being away from people, but now I’m entering my early 30’s, I’m slowly thinking that I probably should’ve done more than attend festivals by myself or with my sisters.

None of the people I was around with earlier had looked my way until after they'd been told that I was working in communications and was a boss’ child. The staff from the other teams also did the same—but some of them knew who I was already and had already made themselves comfortable. Just how I wanted.

But then again, this is my first day. And Sunday would probably be my last considering that I’ll be back to my stuffy office the next week. 

I can take up the role as a consultant for communications. My father did offer me that role for Ferrari, Red Bull and McLaren—telling me that I can do so much more in Formula One than my no-good employers. 

Bunch of bullshit, I curse out. He wouldn’t let go of his legacy like that. 

I already told him about writing for magazines or simply writing in general, but he still placed these executive positions in front of me as if he knew I’d give in. Sad fact is that he actually is right; I’m close to giving up on my job. If The Devil Wears Prada didn’t warn me the first time, Lauren Weisberger should have at least taken both of my shoulders and shaken them. 

It didn’t hurt to think about balancing Formula One and journalism out. After all, it’s what I can do as a journalist—know enough about racing and engines and ensure that my knowledge is being shared through my writing and published works. 

I try my best to relax in my bed, lying flat on the mattress with my hands resting on my stomach. The silence is deafening and I can hear my steady breathing. My eyes are growing tired as they continue to look up at the ceiling of my room. 

For a moment, I debated whether or not I should come downstairs for dinner with Lewis. If there’s anything that I know about him, he takes his dear time to get ready—and I have an endless closet at home. That’s telling you a lot. 

A knock on my door makes me stand fast and rush to open it. Daniel Ricciardo stands there with a grin.

“Oh you,” I blurt out.

Displeased with my response, Daniel cries out, “I’m not terrible all the time, Tils.” 

“Sorry,” I shake my head as I correct myself, “I meant that I thought you were Lewis.”

“He phoned me and said we should head down instead of waiting for him,” he shrugs as he sticks his arm out and offers, “let’s go?” 

I nod and head to where my flats are, slipping them on with ease as I grab my keycard and wallet. 

Daniel only pulled his arm back when I wrapped my arm around it. We descend to the ground floor where the restaurant is located. 

A host takes us to a four table seat at a corner. Seeing familiar faces from the venue, I nod at them as a greeting before I find myself sitting across Daniel. 

Soon enough, Lewis arrives and we begin to talk about today’s events. Forty five minutes had passed, and we found ourselves conversing in front of our already empty plates. 

Daniel asks about my family and all I can tell him has something to do with my mother’s side of the family. I guess out of the wealthy people in my family, I can understand my mother’s connections to the automobile industry. My toxic trait is that I despise my father but love my mother.

The difference is that my mother loves us more than anything and cares for our half-sister more than he does. 

But it seems Daniel has focused on a different matter.

“Your mother is— you’re a Ford, Tils,” his eyes widen like an owl as his mouth gapes open. I can practically see a fly entering his mouth. 

“My mum is,” I laugh, looking at Lewis as he, too, laughs at Daniel’s shocked expression. 

“Mate, she’s a Ford,” Daniel reaches out to nudge at Lewis and gestures at me. “You carry that information around just like that?” 

“She’s not really putting it out there for everyone to know,” Lewis chuckles, sipping on his water as he puts it down. “Besides, if you were really into racing you probably have heard about her dad or mum’s family one way or another.”

“I don’t really go digging for information about old money families,” Daniel rolls his eyes as he looks at me again, “you don’t look like you’re happy to be here. For someone who came from families who are into cars.”

“My father insisted on having me work for his teams,” I tell him, “I’m not exactly the brightest for motorsport. I prefer the media more than what my father wishes me to pursue.”

“Have you raced before?” 

“I had a karting career at some point,” I shrug, “or at least I started at the age 4. Mum didn’t agree with it and I should’ve started at 7, but my father insisted. I was already competing by 7. My sisters were too, but some preferred equestrian over racing.”

“If my dad was a twat, I’d stop it just to spite him too,” Daniel says as I raise my brows at the statement. He then corrects himself, “What I mean is I’d pursue the karting career for me, not for him.”

“Gotcha.”

Lewis pipes up, “Blanche is a pretty decent woman. You should see her, mate.” He turns to look at me and asks, “Is she coming this weekend?” 

“With Aimee and Sylvie,” I nod in confirmation, “I’m not quite sure about Stevie yet but she wouldn’t want to miss out on your home race.” Not elaborating any further, I return to the topic, “My father is absolutely baffled when I quit karting but he can’t do much because Poppy, my mum’s dad, was still alive. So between him and Poppy, he chose not to interfere.” 

“But you’re still here on behalf of your father though,” Daniel points out.

“It’s to secure my position and family’s future,” I tell him with a sigh. I look at him then back at Lewis before I say, “Whether I like it or not, I still need to do my part regardless of how much I hate the surname. It’s an obligation that I can’t avoid but it’s alright. It’s not just for me— it’s for my sisters and my future children.” Wow, I’ve only been friends with Daniel for a month and I’m already airing out my dirty laundry to him. Is this what happens when your friends are your sisters and just Lewis?

“You’re taking your elder sister role way too seriously. You can’t even catch a break,” Daniel says incredulously. 

I can only nod as I agree; my mother’s capable enough of worrying about them and I should just be doing whatever I want. She cares for my sisters as much as I do but being cut off from my father’s side of the family isn’t something that I’d allow. 

It’s not as if my sisters don’t want to join me at the trackside; they want to keep an eye on one of each team in fact. They want to be able to know what kind of thing our father brags about. But much like me, they don’t want to be on the track itself—they’re better off being models because that's what they wanted to be. They’ll join me soon enough, they just need to make a career out of modelling and come to work for the driving teams whenever they’re ready. 

“They’ll be in a lot of magazines soon enough,” I shrug nonchalantly. “I’d like them to do that first unless they feel like carrying a headache coming from either Brown or Horner.”

“There are three of them,” Lewis chuckles, “if anything, those three would outnumber your team principals. With you alone I got scared, could you imagine Sylvie? She’s feisty.” 

“It’s not just to keep them sane,” I roll my eyes, my foot underneath the table kicking Lewis in the leg. The table shakes lightly. “I just started working in this kind of industry. What kind of a big sister would I be if I’m just as clueless? I need to know more, especially if I want to be able to teach my potential kids about it.”

Lewis, the piece of shit, decides that this is the right time to joke about it and say, “I didn’t know you’re already thinking about a future with my boss, Tilly.” 

I snap my head to Lewis’ direction too much that I’m thinking I just got a whiplash. My glare hardens when Danny and Lewis’ faces turn red from laughing too much. 

“You ought to quiet down, boys,” I hiss, not wanting to look at the people who are giving us the unnecessary attention being gathered by their laughter.

“You have to admit,” Lewis breathes deeply to refrain from laughing again, “you two got along well. Was it because of Dubai?” 

“I told you that in confidence,” reaching down in his thigh, I pinch it as he whines quietly. He slaps my hand away as I say, “You’re a shit secret keeper.”

“Wai— what about Dubai?” Daniel, clearly not understanding what’s going on, asks as he looks at me while he expects a context. 

I muttered to him, “Met Toto Wolff in 2006. Spoke to him and all that.” 

Lewis nearly cries in laughter as he speaks, “She told me about it years ago. She never knew his name–or she refused to tell me who. She said he was attractive alright but—ow, stop it, Tils.”

I pull myself away from Lewis and sit back straight on my seat as I claim, “He doesn’t remember nor think of me like that, Lew. He’s just a silly crush.” 

“Is he?” 

“He was,” I correct him even if I’m wrong. It’s like Toto Wolff got an on-and-off button in my life. One moment he’s there making me blush the next thing he’s already gone. 

“You’ve been single for as long as I know,” Lewis huffs out, “why don’t you try dating again anyways?”

“With your boss?” I raise a brow, “Are you that obtuse?”

“What? He isn’t bad,” Lewis shrugs, returning to his usual composure as he crosses his arms, “the opportunity’s right there. Why are you adamant on not taking it?”

“Because she doesn’t want to get on Christian’s bad side for fraternizing with the enemy,” Daniel jokes. 

“I’m gonna kill you, Daniel,” I threaten him emptily, making him giggle again. 

“I’m repeating what you said!” He cries out, still laughing as he laughs obnoxiously. Men! Seriously.

“He’s quite interested you know,” Lewis states, his arms now crossing as he leaned against his seat. “He’s playing 20 questions with me whenever you leave. I’m not sure if he’s interested in me winning or you.” 

“He’s not interested like that,” I insist, “I’m sure he means well because I just popped up all of the sudden today. Nobody likes to step on the wrong foot of a newcomer. You’ll just make an enemy.”

“Yeah, sure,” Daniel scoffs haughtily, “the guy who’s been asking Christian questions about you left and right— the same person who doesn’t like Christian— isn’t interested.” 

“I haven’t been in a relationship with anyone since 2004,” I scowl, trying to keep my voice quiet as I say, “What makes you think I’ll be able to have an interesting relationship with him?” 

“He isn’t subtle about wanting to spend time with you,” Lewis answers, “what did he say again? You’re welcome to be in our paddock anytime? Does that ring a bell?”

Of course I do, I almost huff out, it’s one of the things that I intend to do. Be able to spend enough time admiring his team…

“I know men,” Daniel adds, “and with the way of how he’s looking down at you during the interview? With the heart eyes making contact with another pair of heart eyes? Yeah, that man is in loooove~”

“Like it’s a fast lane.”

Now I can’t deny it. 

I like being around Toto Wolff, more than anything. Speaking to him is like a breath of fresh air after stepping out of a cigar lounge. He’s a gentleman; I’ve always wondered how he’s not married. Women deserve him. Yet he’s here, being the most eligible bachelor in the grid following Fernando Alonso. God, I will snatch him up if I can even meet his level. I doubt he likes his women like me… trashy trying to be classy.

But it turns out, my cynicism is unnecessary. I find myself thinking a lot about the things that could be. In an empty elevator, I wait as it slowly closes. But the call from outside forces me to keep the door open until the person catches up. 

The man makes it inside as he stands tall, trying to catch his breath. There’s no way in hell—

“Tilly,” oh my god. I’m seeing too much of him today. 

I turn to my left as I dumbly ask, “Bonjour, what floor?” 

Toto looks at me with confusion in his face, probably wondering if I’m playing stupid or just stupid in general as he looks past me and says, “You’ve got it.” 

Wow, not only am I seeing too much of him, I’m also on the same floor as him. 

I nod and look back at the front, I can see him through the reflection from the doors. His polo remains unbuttoned and his hair unruly after running his fingers through it. I can see traces of sweat dripping down his forehead. I probably shouldn’t do a physical examination on him.

I look at him and ask politely, “Have you had dinner yet?” It’s a polite thing to ask, right? Like I’m not coming off as desperate to speak to him?

“Ah,” he keeps his mouth shut for a second and answers, “it is something to take up in my room, unfortunately.”

“Is it?” I ask out of curiosity, “You could have joined others for dinner?” 

“Busy, as always,” he smiles sadly, “it’s an endless battle.”

“Quite a shame,” I tell him with a shake of my head. “Do people know time zones or just business hours or is it just something written on papers?” I ask no one in particular.

“My brain doesn’t shut off the moment 7 pm hits,” he tells me with a rueful smile. “It calls for work all the time. So, no. I don’t follow my own business hours policy.” God, I feel sorry for him. 

“It’s like a wire, Toto,” I nibble on my bottom lip, not knowing how to express my empathy without looking like an arse, “you can’t plug it back in if you’ve something to prevent it from happening. Like a baby proof.” 

“You’re right,” he laughs. “What do you suggest I should do? The baby proof, I mean.”

I watch him as the door slides open, thanking him as he gestures for me to walk out of the lift first. Then my mouth does not stop speaking, “Have a dinner away from your work, for instance. Never hurts to isolate your work once in a while,” he laughs at that, “read a book? I love reading novels— I am currently skimming through Das Parfum. You can even time your break before going back to work because I can assure you that habit isn't good.” 

“Do you understand the German language?” He asks me. Mentioning Das Parfum clearly piqued his curiosity. 

It was smart of me to bring it up. When he told me earlier that he came from Austria, I knew I could talk to him in so many languages. Like I knew what I should say next. Like a mastermind.

I'm such a fucking mastermind.

My mouth quirks up and I answer, “Wir haben schließlich viele deutsche fahrer.” We have a lot of German drivers, after all.

He nods at me like he listens to everything I tell him. As if he’s following an order or he’s rather impressed with my pronunciations. Nice.��

Our conversation leads us in front of my hotel room. 

I look at him and gestures to the door, “This is my bat lair.”

“Bat lair?” He chuckles.

“My little humble abode,” I joke. “I can unfortunately hear my bed calling for me. I have to go.” 

“Right,” he nods as I open my door and step inside my room. Telling myself to get my shit together, I turn around to see him still waiting for me to head in. That was a surprise. 

I suggest, “One way to turn your stressful work day around would be breakfast. If you’d like, you can have one with me tomorrow?” 

“Are you asking me on a breakfast date?” He teases, watching me fall apart with my face flushing red. He stops eventually and answers, “I would be more than happy to accompany you before we head out.” 

“Okay good,” I laugh nervously, “I’ve no one else with me anyways so there’s that… does seven sound okay?” 

“You can ask me for anything I think I’ll say yes, liebling,” boom. There goes my heart once more. He grins gleefully as he says, “I know a place nearby. Would you like me to pick you up tomorrow?” 

“As far as I know I’m the one who asked you first,” I roll my eyes in a joking manner, smile escaping my lips. 

“I’d love to have you pick me up but I know the place,” he tells me with a shrug. “Besides, it’s by the tracks. We can head down there together before they start piling up for the day.” 

Not wanting to fluster myself anymore, I nod almost eagerly and he exclaims, “I’m looking forward to it.” 

“Have a good night, bello. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, schatz. Sweet dreams.”

Oh I really am going to have the sweetest dreams ever. Trust me. 

#formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one x oc #formula one smau #f1 fic #f1 imagine #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fic #toto wolff x reader #mercedes amg imagine #formula one fluff #f1 fluff

[dunjays]

Ayda Aguefort Timeline/Age Speculation

(warning this is long i have many thoughts)

ok ever since i found out about ayda's reincarnation and her relative age ive been curious about how long she would be alive for (in prep for writing a fic about what notes she'd write to her next self after meeting fig), and so here's my thoughts on that, starting with what we know:

ayda is relatively over 300 years old total

current ayda is 17 years old, and knew herself to be ~175 years old total

ayda knows of 3 previous lifetimes, all of whom lived in leviathan at one point

garthy obrien raised current ayda

a previous ayda raised garthy obrien

in various sources, dnd and general, phoenixes can live to 500-1000 before immolation. by this logic/dnd standards half-phoenixes can at minimum live a little longer than humans, and at maximum probably halfway between the two so 300-600 range.

what we can speculate:

considering past lives timelines, half phoenixes here are probably not living in that higher 300-600 range each incarnation, probably much closer to a typical human lifetime range unless they're dying unexpectedly early (which tbf is possible considering leviathan, but ayda is a badass genius wizard holed up in a library so unlikely that's happening a lot).

speculated in various sources and implied in fantasy high that half phoenixes while born without memories of the past are born with some kind of prior intelligence/maturity (like the intellect of a 6-11 year old). this would make sense for how ayda was able to raise herself in the past despite having no guardian (read notes, get around, survive, etc which wouldn't be possible if she popped out a lone infant).

all 3 previous lifetimes left notes and did work building compass points, meaning likely all at least got into teen years to be leaving in depth notes and historical impact. on average over 150 years this would make each previous ayda be about 50 years old, but this seems unlikely considering some known stuff about 4th most recent version detailed below.

arthur is ~500 years old, and confirmed that ayda told him to not contact her 300 years ago, meaning ayda was likely at least a teenager/young adult by the time of making this decision. it's unclear if this was ayda's first incarnation or not, it was likely one of the earlier ones although possibly not considering this version already had an established note-taking system and plans for informing future versions (but it is implied all the aydas leave notes so again speculation). this ayda promised to leave notes for future versions, therefore it's likely they are not the same version (the 4th most recent ayda) who destroyed the previous ~125 years worth of notes. we have at least 5 confirmed versions of ayda altogether (averaging 60 years each over 300 years), possibly more.

garthy obrien is a half orc aasimar. half orcs live to roughly 75 years, human-based aasimar to no more than 160. this means the celestial blood adds roughly 60 years to a human's lifetime, so if we add that to half orc we can estimate garthy will live to 135. half orcs reach adulthood at 14, aasimar at ~18. garthy was raised when very young through to at least adulthood, and is likely at most presently in their 40s (they describe jack brakkow as distinctly older, who's in his 50s), though more likely closer to 30s considering their more youthful appearance and vibes (but again the angel blood could be a factor). so im saying 35 for splitting of difference purposes. they raised ayda her whole life, so that's at least 17, meaning previous incarnation died when garthy was ~18 (sad).

based on all this it's highly likely the most recent reincarnation prior to current ayda raised garthy obrien, and we can assume was at least an adult when doing so and lived until garthy was an adult so likely died at the earliest at ~36-40.

4th most recent ayda destroyed ~125+ years worth of notes in an effort to start over, likely did this at at least teen age (let's say ~18) and did not start taking notes again until decades later, thus starting the 150 years until current ayda. its assumed that by the time they began note taking in leviathan they were already fairly old/reflecting on past decisions/etc, likely at least 50 (considering 18ish when burning the notes and the following 'decades-later regret'). also this takes off a chunk of that previous mystery 125+ notes, meaning 4th current ayda probably reborn around 75 years after cutting off arthur contact, possibly sooner.

we dont know really anything about the 3rd most recent ayda aside from them liking the library and getting zero bitches

theories/concrete thoughts:

even with 2nd ayda dying at the earliest at 40 and 4th ayda dying at 50 (10 of which factor into the 150 years at leviathan) at the earliest (mind you these numbers are a stretch) the max age you get ayda being is 100, which is a normal human lifespan

casual possibility in all of this is ayda is roughly 300, and with 5 version on average lives to be about 60 years old. this is simple but seems unlikely considering phoenixes live much longer and so her lifetime should be longer than a human's.

it's possible the odd age timeline/low age is in part because when she's reborn she might not be born as an infant. if she comes back as essentially 5-10 already, that is potentially a good chunk of time that is chopped off at the end, making her lifespan average closer to 70 or 80. still lower than anticipated but more reasonable.

it's possible that some versions of ayda have died prematurely or self-immolated for whatever reason. though they've all seemingly lived past childhood, they live on a pirate island with frequent dangers and strife, it's totally possible that anything bad could've happened to them. i think its less likely that they just died really early because 1: ayda seemingly has always come back with access to these notes which implies some level of safety, to have been reborn in the same space as these notes and be able to process them and grow/learn while also being still that young implies some safety/protection. also ayda is a genius and a very good wizard like her father and could likely survive most typical challenges that come her way. also she has very few relationships and very few goals besides collecting knowledge and spells so likely didn't have many enemies either. to me self-immolation feels more likely as ayda clearly struggles with a lot of insecurity and loneliness and likely depression/mental illness and mentioned as much in reference to losing fig, altho i think this prolly only happened with 3rd or 4th most recent ayda. but still, premature death is possible too (something ayda referenced as a possibility as well upon returning to leviathan).

ayda being perhaps way more than 300 is possible and makes some of the timeline make a bit more sense. you could have a much older 4th most recent ayda who dies briefly into her time in leviathan, leaving two aydas in the next 150 years living well into their 70s (or perhaps one dying earlier and one living longer). you could also even speculate that there are 4 rather than 5 aydas, the 4th most current being the same one who left her father and burned the notes (this seems unlikely tho considering the promises, the desire to restart and impulsive note burning decision) but that would make that version at most around 150 before reincarnation.

also possible half-phoenixes just have shorter lifespans. maybe the tradeoff to being immortal means their human bodies aren't strong enough to handle that power/process as easily and weaken sooner/don't last as long. hence average of closer to 60s

in conclusion/TLDR:

fig is most likely outliving ayda or they're around the same age. ayda is at least living to 60, and at the very most 150 (which is a bit stretch). most likely ayda will live to an average human lifespan of around 80, and fig could potentially die at a similar time but tieflings tend to live longer on average, also at most to 150. there's a possibility for a fig-raising-ayda akin to garthy future, but it's unlikely, at least not for long. [and if fig is a full pit fiend/archdevil ofc she could end up immortal but that might be after material plane death]

#i love this autistic bird with my whole heart #ayda aguefort #ayda and fig #fig x ayda #figueroth faeth #figayda #d20 #dimension 20 #brennan lee mulligan #dnd #dungeons and dragons #fantasy high sophomore year #fantasy high #fantasy high sophomore year spoilers #fantasy high spoilers #d20 fantasy high #fhsy #d20 fhsy #arthur aguefort

[standfucker]

@thermaldischage

I went for bullet points, but this kinda outgrew them, so I'll call it a drabble. It was still written with bullet points in mind so it's in a bit of a simpler style. I hope that's all good with you. Thank you for your patience!

Inuarashi Falling in Love with You

CW: none

Your ship was mangled by a storm. You clung to a piece of the hull, fighting to stay afloat among the waves. While the wood is sturdy enough to support your weight, it’s been two days and dehydration is starting to make you see things. For example, the walking continent that’s been growing larger on the horizon for some time now.

As it gets closer, the continent takes the shape of a creature. It’s so unfathomably massive, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was a god, coming to take you to the afterlife. You feel yourself starting to lose consciousness as it gets close enough to cast shade over your section of the sea. The last thing you remember before blacking out is the sensation of being lifted, as if to the heavens…

You wake up in a clinic with an IV in your arm. There is a goat man peering into your face.

You scream. 

He screams. 

A squirrel woman yells at you both to get a hold of yourselves.

After a long explanation, you learn that you are on the moving island of Zou, and that the “god” you saw was actually a supermassive elephant, carrying an entire society on its back. Apparently, it lifted you out of the water and placed you on its back, where you were found by someone they’re calling Duke Inuarashi. This is, apparently, a huge deal to the minks.

Speaking of which, it’s your first time seeing minks in person. Thankfully, you’re also a huge animal lover, so it’s not too great a shock. The bigger concern is wondering what became your ship. Neither mink can answer that for you, but say you must speak with the Duke when you’ve recovered. At least you were sailing alone, so no one else was lost.

Recovery takes a day and a half of IV fluids and rest. You’re given a simple breakdown of how mink society is structured in the meantime. The following morning, the goat man, Dr. Miyagi, gives you a clean bill of health. 

Outside the clinic is a beautiful, old-fashioned looking city with buildings hewn into the rock. There’s a lion mink waiting for you right outside the door. He rather intensely introduces himself as “Full Power” Shishilian before guiding you through the city.

Every single mink you pass by turns their heads to stare and point. Some even start following you, whispering to each other. “Don’t mind them,” Shishilian says. “Most of them have only seen humans in pictures.”

You’re a little stunned when you first lay eyes upon Duke Inuarashi. He’s so grandiose, so poised, so…gentle. Despite his size, he’s gentle when he approaches, gentle when he shakes your hand, gentle when he tells you there’s no one to take you home–their only seafaring mink are currently out on a supply mission. The mink leader is humble, refined, and thoroughly soft for all his majestic appearance suggests, and just from exchanging a few words you can sense the wisdom he carries.

You respond that without a ship, you don’t have anything to your name anyway. You were on your way to another island looking for work. If there’s work to be had on Zou, you say, you’re great with paperwork and organizing, and could take up a job while you wait for the traveling minks to return.

Inuarashi says he has been considering taking on an assistant to help out with administrative work. He doesn’t tell you that it’s a good way to keep an eye on you until he decides whether you’re trustworthy.

You’re set up in a side room in the Duke’s very home, and the ringing of the Welcoming Bell marks your official introduction into Zou. 

Inuarashi is exceedingly polite and well-mannered. His office situation? Not so much. It’s a mess, completely disorganized with stacks of books and papers everywhere. You have a lot of work to do.

After a full day of labor, you finally have everything sorted into piles. Inuarashi protests that you should rest, but you’re used to long hours and stay up late anyway. You soon discover why he was concerned–the moment as the clock strikes 6, he falls asleep right then and there on the floor. He didn’t want to leave you by yourself, it seems.

You cover him with a large blanket, struggling somewhat to drag the massive bedding over his body. Then, looking left and right to make sure no one’s watching, you pet his ears. They’re smooth and soft beneath your skin. The touch makes him kick his leg in his sleep, knocking over a pile of papers. Whoops.

After that, you stop working late, simply going in with Inuarashi in the early evening. Having not yet adjusted to the mink’s schedule, it’s far too early for you, so you clean up around his home as thanks for being allowed to room there.

Inuarashi wakes up to a spotless house and you out cold. One sniff of the floral-scented cleaner tells him you stayed up late, so he decides to let you sleep in.

By the following week, everything in his office is put away and has a place. You talk to Inuarashi when he’s not busy, and find that he makes for excellent conversation. He always has a good perspective on things, or an interesting anecdote to share. The days don’t go by very quickly, but on Zou, that’s a welcome thing, as the work isn’t nearly so dreary as it was in your old life.

Inuarashi wants to trust you, but he lets a little part of him remain shrewd, just in case. He has to look after his people, after all. But you make it hard with your habits.

You call minks Mr. or Miss, plus their species name. The first time you referred to him as Mr. Puppy, he was immediately reminded of his friends in Wano. Another mink that overheard you snapped at you to show respect, but Inuarashi stopped them. “I find,” he said, “that the people who refer to us that way are kind ones.”

It was also amusing to hear you refer to Nekomamushi as “Mr. Kitty”, making him bark out a laugh at how much of a mismatch it was to the Cat Viper’s abrasive personality.

Following Inuarashi’s example, the minks pay no mind as to how you referred to them, accepting it as one of your quirks. You get along well with the minks, fitting right in. You love snuggling up to them (so soft!) and they love the physical affection. You run around playing with the mink children, help their parents with chores, and gradually make a place for yourself among their kind.

You take on a lot of tasks alone–you tell Inuarashi it’s because you’ve always lived by yourself. You wanted to be a zoologist, but were from a lower class family that couldn’t afford the schooling, so you simply worked from a young age and never really stopped. To call it a dull existence would be ungrateful, you say, as you had just enough to meet your needs and should be thankful. Inuarashi listens quietly, contemplating.

You need a pack, he thinks, to stop relying on yourself so much. The next time you’re working yourself too hard, he stops you right there, tells you you’re done for the day, and takes you out to the town center. There’s a beautiful garden situated there, and he walks you through rows of shrubs and flowers and saplings, pointing them out and explaining how they grow best when planted next to varied species, each one taking advantage of differing levels of shade. Inuarashi plucks a flower and places it in your hair. “It’s good to appreciate what you’ve been given, I suppose. But…you-gara never got the chance to stop and enjoy the bounties of life.”

“There was no time,” you say.

“There’s time now.” He looks up, over the sprawling, beautiful city. “You don’t have to rush back home. Stay a while. My house will remain open to you for as long as you see fit.”

You smile. “You’re just saying that because your space is clean for the first time.”

He chuckles. “It’s certainly a nice bonus.”

You grow closer. Inuarashi comes to trust you fully, now comfortable with letting you explore the island by yourself…but he finds that he doesn’t want to, that he prefers keeping you by his side. He finds excuses to do so, feeling a little ridiculous for it all the while. He should be beyond such foolishness.

“There’s no urgent need to visit the forest. It’s getting dark, after all. Why don’t we go another morning, together?” He’ll offer, and so on.

You start noticing the change, too. There’s the obvious signs–his tail starts wagging when you return home, for one thing. For another, he starts to refer to you informally, by just your first name. There’s smaller, subtler signs, too: his large hand alighting on your shoulder when you’re beside him, at your waist when you’re out together, or on your arm when you converse. His occasional sniffs in the air will switch to subtle, indirect sniffs of your hair when you walk by. You’ve learned each other’s preferred tea blends, and he always has a cup of your favorite kind waiting for you when you inevitably wake up after him.

You start napping together after lunch, he curled up on his giant couch and you nestled against the curve of his side. His tail thumps lightly when you first settle in. Still, you don’t think much of it until one day Carrot walks in on you two asleep, and later informs you that the Duke does not, in fact, nap with his subjects as a general rule.

“Aw, he must really care for you,” she says, and your face heats up as you stammer.

“Do, do you really think so? you ask.

“I haven’t seen the Duke be in such a good mood in ages. And why wouldn’t he be? You’re sweet.” Carrot leans in and lovingly chomps on your ear, making you yelp.

Inuarashi, never far from where you are nowadays, skids to a stop around the corner, rushing up to you two. “I heard you scream, what happened–ah, Carrot!” he scolds. “We don’t bite lesser mink. Their skin is delicate.”

Carrot apologizes, kissing the shell of your ear instead. You giggle, ticklish, and say you’re fine, but please keep it to kisses from now on.

That evening when you’re both winding down with mugs of tea, Inuarashi clears his throat where he’s sitting across from you on the couch.

“Carrot goes overboard with her garchus sometimes,” he says.

“I noticed,” you touch your ear with a giggle, and he frowns slightly. “It’s fine. It didn’t hurt too much. And she made up for it, so no hard feelings.”

“Does she do that often?” he asks.

“Do what?”

“Kiss you.”

You pause. It’s an unusual question, coming from the old canine. Something about it makes you feel weird. Uncertain and hesitant. You decide to just tell the truth: “Only on the cheek.” 

“Hmm,” is all he says. It wasn’t unusual for minks to kiss or lick each other’s face as part of their greeting. Kisses on the lips were treated the way humans treated it–as either a romantic gesture, or between a mother and young child. Inuarashi’s frown dissipates, and he seems to relax, focusing on stirring a cube of sugar into his tea.

“That’s normal, right?” you ask. “I’m not missing anything in terms of mink culture, am I?”

“Not at all, my dear. You’re doing very well,” he praises. “Don’t pay me any mind. I was just being a nosy old dog.”

“Oh…okay.”

“Naturally, who you-gara choose to get close to is all up to you. Especially if you plan on staying long-term.”

Another odd statement, but it makes your heart leap. Was he implying you could become a citizen? “Is that really okay?”

“I don’t see why not,” he says. “You’ve acclimated well to life here, and you-gara seem to be happy. I can’t speak for how you felt before coming to Zou, but if it’s been an improvement, then staying would be the logical choice, no?”

“You’re talking about permanent residence, right?” you ask, and Inuarashi smiles in response. “Where would I live?”

“With me,” he says automatically, as if it wasn’t even a question. He pauses, looking sheepish. “I mean…if you would be alright with that–”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes, I’d love that!”

His tail sweeps the floor behind him as he beams. “Then it’s settled. Or…at least, it would be,” his tail stops, “the truth is, if you-gara wish to become a citizen, you need permission from Nekomamushi as well, loath as I am to admit it.”

You’ve never met the Cat Viper in person before, though you’ve heard Kingsbirds like Wanda and Carrot speak highly of him. All you really know for sure is that he and Inuarashi must never, under any circumstances, see each other.

“I’ll send Wanda to take you to him,” Inuarashi says. “The forest is difficult to navigate after dusk.”

A few nights later, you, Wanda, and Carrot (who tags along) take a Warney into the Whale Forest. You haven’t been around the crocodilian beasts much, but they’re surprisingly docile for how fierce they look. An hour of riding later, a gorilla mink stops you at an entrance to a clearing, defined by cultivated trees and shrubs. After talking to Wanda, he steps back and lets you in, revealing a sprawling little village set deep within the forest.

It’s like a repeat of the day you first arrived, with plenty of mink focused on you. One of them stands tall above the rest, even more massive than Duke Inuarashi, a monstrous cat mink–Master Nekomamushi. He’s friendly enough, though he has a serious air about him, making you nervous when he invites you–and only you–into his home to talk.

“I’ll start this off by saying I have nothing against you-gara staying here,” he says, and you feel relieved for just a moment before he adds, “but there’s something you should know.”

He leans back in his chair, puffing on his pipe before continuing. “Wanda filled me in. You-gara have been living with him this whole time, right? You smell like him. Hmph.” He pauses, and his face is hard to read, but you think he’s conflicted. “There’s no easy way to put this…but Inuarashi has been deceiving you.”

“...What?” you say. You know the two don’t get along, but Nekomamushi doesn’t seem to be messing with you. “I’m sorry. What do you mean, Mr. Kitty?”

“Nya ha ha! You-gara are just like some old friends of mine.” His grin falls, and he sighs out smoke. “All the worse that he’s been doing this to you. Listen up: Inuarashi doesn’t trust you. I know him better than anyone on this island. He let you live with him to keep a watch on you. To be honest, I probably would have done the same…”

You feel your stomach sink.

“He keeps you by his side constantly, right? Why do you think that is?” Nekomamushi says. “Because despite that kindly act of his, he has to keep his people safe from outside threats.”

“I’m,” your voice is quiet as your chest gets tight, “I’m no threat.”

“Not to him, maybe. But you-gara were a stranger. Unpredictable. That Zunesha saved you may mean a lot to the citizens, but it doesn’t give you a free pass to run about…of course, none of this is your fault.”

Inuarashi only kept you close to him to watch you? You could have sworn that he was fond of you…that he looked at you differently. Were you reading too far into things? Because you were lonely? Tears sting at the corners of your eyes and you blink quickly to get rid of them.

“I thought…” you swallowed. “I thought we were…I mean, I thought he trusted me. He acted like he liked being around me.”

“Not surprising. Inuarashi and I have fond memories with our old human pals. And, as they say… Dogs are man’s best friend, after all. I’m sure he likes you-gara. Doesn’t mean he trusts you.” Nekomamushi picks up on your unease, his nose twitching and his look pitying. “I’m sorry, Y/n. But you deserve to know the truth. I won’t let him continue lying to you-gara.”

You droop in your chair, trying to hold yourself together under this awful new information. Nekomamushi reaches out and gently pats your shoulder with one massive hand.

“Inuarashi told you-gara that our minks capable of sailing have left, I assume?” He asks, and you nod. “He didn’t count me among them, as I have duties to see to here. However…if you so wish, I will gladly take you home. I’m a better sailor than all the other minks. I can get you there safely.”

You look up at him, surprised. Nekomamushi gives you a kind smile. “You-gara don’t have to decide right now. But if you want to go home, all you have to do is ask.”

The ride back to the city is miserable and silent. Wanda and Carrot can sense that something’s wrong, but you refuse to answer them, too twisted up inside. What comfort could they offer, anyway? They adores Duke Inuarashi, and would likely side with his reasons for deceiving you. Your heart feels like it’s breaking. You love it here, and you love him, but you don’t want to live on Zou if he doesn’t return your feelings.

You barely talk to Inuarashi the next day, responding in short sentences and avoiding him where you can. Like Wanda, he knows something’s wrong, but you won’t elaborate. Inuarashi fears the worst–that Nekomamushi rejected your request for citizenship. While the Duke falls asleep promptly as usual, his sleep is troubled and restless. It’s almost like he can sense you leaving that night, visiting Nekomamushi once more in order to tell him that you’ve accepted his offer.

Nekomamushi has a boat prepared. In the meantime, you pack your things, and the following night, after Inuarashi is asleep, you go out to meet the Cat Viper for the last time at the edge of Zou. It’s childish, but you can’t help but wish that Inuarashi would stop you somehow. If only he would come after you. But you know that the two mink kings can never lay eyes upon each other.

Nekomamushi helps you get into the boat, and you get your things settled and prepare to descend. The minks working the pulleys barely touch the ropes when you all hear it: a howl pierces through the forest.

A moment later, Inuarashi bursts out of the treeline on a galloping Warney. He leaps off his mount and sprints toward the edge. At this distance, you can see that he’s blindfolded. Two mink leap into his way to keep him from getting too close to the edge, nearly getting bowled over but managing to stop him. Your heart pounds as Inuarashi cries out your name.

“Please, listen!” he howls. “Carrot overheard you speak to Nekomamushi. She told me everything. Heed my words, Y/n! I never meant to deceive you! I only wanted what was best for my people. I just forgot that ‘my people’ included you! I only kept you on such a tight leash because I was selfish. I was a bad dog. I wanted all your attention and affections for myself. Please, forgive this foolish old man, whose only crime was not telling you he loved you sooner.”

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as he speaks. You blink, and they streak down your cheeks. Before you can think twice, you try to leap off the boat and nearly fall. Nekomamushi catches you with his quick reflexes, and sighs, carrying you back over onto Zou and setting you down. “Dumb mutt…” he mutters, but you hardly register it.

You run to Inuarashi, who’s fallen into his knees. As you get closer, he sniffs the air, and his tail starts to wag. You take his large muzzle and pull it close to your chest in an embrace.

“I was never sure,” you say, voice warbling through tears.

He lets you hug his head against your body, then picks you up and holds you close. “I owe you a lifetime of apologies, dear Y/n.”

“Don’t ever make me doubt it again,” you sniffle. He can’t see you smile, so you kiss his snout. His tail wagging goes into overdrive.

Inuarashi needs a few extra hours of sleep to make up for pushing past his natural clock. This time, you both sleep together in his bed, and for the first time, he’s the one who sleeps in. You make sure to have a cup of his favorite tea ready for him for when he wakes up, then slip back under the covers to enjoy the sleepy, early hours with your new beloved.

#x reader #inuarashi x reader #one piece imagines #zen writes