#//I hope this is okay! Please let me know if anything needs changed

[lilasamaaa]

A lapse in judgement | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genre | Angst (of course), Hurt/Comfort, Fluff.

Word count | 3.8K

Warnings | Mention of sexual activities, rejection.

Summary | The long-awaited dinner with your in-laws doesn't go as planned... Will you and your boyfriend manage to change their minds about your relationship?

Author's note | I'm back, bitches! This lovely prompt was requested, thank you for the idea Anon! I hope you all like it, please let me know what you think! ✨ (not proofread lmao)

Being the new girlfriend after the one who got away fucking sucks. Even when your lover was the one to end things. It's quite something to be the girl after the one he was supposed to spend his life with. Get married with. Have kids with. You wouldn't wish anyone to be in your place. Yet, here you are, all because you fell in love with him. Carlos Sainz. Him and his doe eyes. His impeccable hair. His charming smile. Frankly, you didn't stand a chance.

You knew who he was, of course. Formula 1 is among your fondest childhood memories, sitting in front of the TV with your siblings and parents. Each Grand Prix was a household event, and you could never bring yourself to part with the Ferrari-colored jacket you wore every race Sunday. It's been years since you've fit into it, but the memory is too precious. So, yes, you knew who he was. And you recognized him immediately when he walked through the door of your workplace, sunglasses perched on his nose.

You don't follow Formula 1 as closely as before. Just enough to keep up with the news. You don't pretend not to know who he is. What's the point in pretending?

"Back from Monza already?" you ask, wiping your hands on a clean towel.

He smiles. A polite smile, but one that seems to indicate he's not keen on chatting. Or at least, not about that. You ask him what he'd like, and he asks for anything with soy milk in it. He orders two, to go, and you smile again. Okay, you think. Understood. The exchange lasts no more than two minutes, and soon, the driver exits the coffee shop, leaving behind a lingering woody scent.

Weeks pass without crossing paths with him again, and honestly, the encounter has completely slipped your mind. That one early morning, though, you're sitting at one of the café tables, contemplating new drinks, new recipes to implement based on some customer feedback, when the little bell chimes behind you. You definitely need to stop leaving the door open to let the floor dry after your morning cleaning session.

You turn around, ready to inform the friendly customer that the café doesn't open for another twenty minutes, when you catch his gaze.

"I know you're not open yet," he starts, putting both hands in front of him. "I saw the sign. But I really need some coffee, and all the other shops are closed."

"I suppose I can make an exception for such an emergency," you say as you rise from your seat, smiling kindly at him. "What can I get you?"

"I don't remember the name of what you made for me last time, but it was incredible. There was..."

"Soy milk?"

"Yeah."

"I'm on it," you say, turning around. "Two?" you ask, feeling like you already know the answer.

"Yes, please."

You hurry behind the bar, preparing the two coffees, and you place them in front of him a few seconds later. He takes out his phone to pay and places it on the terminal, which emits a soft "beep." Then, he picks up one of the coffees before sliding the second one towards you.

"This one's for you," he says, and you barely manage to hide your surprise.

"Oh," you say. "If I had known, I wouldn't have charged you for the second one."

"But it wouldn't have been the same, then. I wouldn't have offered it to you," the driver says, winking at you before taking a step back. "Thank you so much for the favor. Have a good day!"

With that, he's gone. As you sip your hot coffee slowly, you wonder when you'll see him again next time. But already, your employees arrive and pull you from your thoughts.

"That guy outside kinda looked like Carlos Sainz, no?" Lucia, one of them, asks while tying her apron.

"You've seen him? I thought so, too," you reply with a smile.

The next time you see him is the exact opposite. You've just bid your last employee a good evening, and you're putting the chairs up on the tables in preparation for the morning cleanup. A knock on the storefront makes you look up, and you smile when you see him. You open the door, and he slips inside, slightly damp from the light rain falling outside.

"Have you ever heard of opening hours?" you ask while wiping down the countertop.

"Can't say I have," he replies with a grin, the sight making your stomach flutter.

"I think congratulations are in order," you begin, throwing the towel over your shoulder. "That was a clean win in Singapore."

"Thank you. It might be a bit late for a coffee, but would you like to grab a drink with me?"

The proposition takes you by surprise.

"Like? Right now?"

"Yeah. Right now. I know a place not far from here."

"Aren't you afraid of being seen or something?" you ask, arching a brow.

"Never with beautiful women, no."

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. You've been living in Spain for ten years, yet you don't think you'll ever get used to the natural flirty nature of its inhabitants.

"Give me ten minutes to change and close up, and I'll join you," you say, while he nods, sitting on one of the bar stools.

Carlos takes you to a dancing bar, obviously run by friends since he spends five minutes shaking hands and greeting everyone as you enter. He leads you to the back of the bar, to a secluded corner where the music is much quieter, and you can actually have a conversation. You have no idea what to say. Where do you even start with a Formula 1 driver? Someone whose life is so different, so far removed from yours. Sensing your discomfort, Carlos takes the lead, asking you questions about your café, (Did you open it by yourself?) and about your life. (Where are you from? You have an accent).

The evening passes, and the drinks flow until you find yourselves tightly pressed together on the dance floor. You're back against his chest. His hands on your hips. Yours on his neck. Swaying to the rhythm of the music, all senses heightened. His lips don't take long to seek yours, and from the wall of the bar against which he pins you, you transition to his mattress, his warm body pressed against yours.

You don't sleep much that night. You don't know if you'll ever have the chance to see him again. To have him like that again. So, you lavish your lips on his, your body against his. And in the early morning, as you wake up entangled in each other's arms, and you almost expect him to kick you out... He climbs back on top of you instead, pressing warm kisses against your mouth, your collarbones, your navel... You arrive at the café thirty minutes late, with bags under your eyes. It's never happened before, and your employees are so surprised that none of them even think to joke about your poor state.

You don't hear a word from him for the next ten days. Occasionally, you glance at the app you downloaded, which informs you about upcoming races. You know he's in Qatar. You try not to let the little voice in your head win. The one that laughs at you. That tells you that you'll never see him again. He's working, you think. He's busy. Your life goes on, though you can't help but watch for him early in the morning and late at night, your eyes lingering on the storefront.

Then, one day, he comes back. Right in the middle of the shift. Seeing him walk into the café, Lucia lets out a scream and drops the cup she was holding. "Dios mio," she says, clutching her heart. Several seated customers turn around, but nobody seems to pay attention to the tall brunette with caramel eyes whose gaze is fixated on you, from across the counter.

"Soy milk?" you ask, trying to contain your smile.

"Yes, please. Only one."

And then, he starts coming every day. Every day he's not on the other side of the world, that is. By his seventh visit, Lucia can almost serve him his coffee without spilling any, her hands shaking so much.

Outside of the café, the two of you slowly start going to museums. To restaurants. To the cinema. But there's one place you both prefer. His bed. You spend hours there, exploring each other's bodies or talking about everything and nothing. Exchanging thousands of kisses or sharing your worst childhood embarrassments. Moaning against each other or talking about your very first pet. And one evening, as you were recounting how your respective parents had met, he asks you the question.

"Speaking of that, would you like to meet them?"

Your heart skips a beat. It's been six months since you've been seeing each other. Since you've been exclusive. Since you've been a couple, in reality, even if neither of you has dared to say the word. That one, and the other. The one that starts with an L. Even though you know you do... And you sense he does too.

"I don't know," you say, resting your head against his bare chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Have you talked to your family about us?"

"Of course," Carlos says, pressing a kiss to your head. "They know I've been seing someone. And they know it's serious."

"Do they even want to meet me?"

"They haven't asked, if that's your question," your boyfriend replies. "But they never have, with anyone. They know it's something I like to do at my own pace."

You nod, and a few minutes later, the fateful dinner is set for the following Saturday. Already, the ball of anxiety that has lodged itself in your stomach grows. And soon enough, you find yourself standing in front of the door of the imposing Sainz mansion, your throat tight and your hand sweaty in Carlos'.

"Relax," the driver says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before stroking your thumb. "They're not that bad."

Carlos knocks on the door, and a young woman opens it before jumping into your boyfriend's arms. You recognize her instantly from the pictures in Carlos' phone. Blanca. As if pronouncing her name in your head had reminded her of your existence, Blanca turns her head, smiling politely in your direction.

"Nice to meet you," she says rather blankly before gesturing for you two to come inside.

You encounter his other sister, Ana, in the hallway a few seconds later. She isn't much warmer, not even offering a smile and simply saying "Welcome" before rushing to hug her brother. The reception from the two women surprises you a little, and doesn't really help you feel confident about the evening. Carlos doesn't seem phased by the situation, helping you out of your coat before guiding you to the living room where the two young women have already disappeared. You're about to walk through the door when your eyes stop on a series of frames hung across from the front door. Your heart skips a beat. Feeling you come to a halt, Carlos stops as well, following your gaze.

"Fucking hell," your boyfriend says before taking the frame off the wall and placing it upside down on the buffet below. "I'm sorry. This photo has been there for so long that they probably don't even notice it anymore," he adds, his tone apologetic.

You know he's trying to reassure you, but his words have the opposite effect. You've briefly talked about your exes. Well, more about his. Isa. The girl he was with for seven fucking years. The one his parents loved so much. Seeing a photo of them together right before meeting your in-laws is like a knife to the heart. A reminder that you're the new girl. The one replacing her. You muster a smile that you know is fake at Carlos before continuing on your way. As you arrive in the living room, his two parents stand up from the couch, rushing to their son to hug him.

The embraces last a few seconds, until they turn to you. You greet them politely, handing his mother a huge bouquet of flowers and his father a bottle of fine wine, as they thank you with strained smiles.

"I also brought chocolates from my shop for you," you continue, turning to his sisters sitting at the dining table. "They're from a small producer in Andalusia, a real treat..."

"How kind of you," Blanca says dryly.

You miss the glance that Carlos shoots his sister, behind you. A stern look. One that scream "be careful". One Blanca pretends not to see.

"Let's sit down," Carlos' mother announces, gesturing for everyone to take a seat.

Intimidated, you stick close to Carlos, sitting next to him. The table is beautiful, adorned with fine porcelain and various flowers. You smile as you spot silver napkin rings and pick up the one in front of you. Your next breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes land on the letters engraved in the metal. Isabel.

"Ah yes, sorry," Ana begins, following your gaze. "We didn't have time to make a new one. I hope you don't mind."

"It's fine," you say, looking up and smiling at her.

"So, dear, what do you do?" Carlos' father asks. "Carlos told us about a café, but we didn't quite understand."

"I opened my own café a few years ago. We also serve fresh pastries that I bake every morning. It's really taking off; I have several employees now, and I'm planning to open a second one soon..."

"Did you study culinary arts?" her mother asks.

"Uh, no, I don't have any degree," you reply with a nervous laugh. "School just wasn't my thing."

Ana and Blanca exchange a glance, and you lower your head, feeling your cheeks flush. You feel Carlos' hand on your thigh, and you cast him a grateful glance, which he doesn't see, his eyes fixed on his sisters.

"And so, the two of you met at the café, is that right?" his father resumes.

"Yes, that's right," you reply with a smile. "In May, the first time."

"In May?" Ana asks, looking at her brother. "Weren't you still with Isa?"

"Are we gonna mention her all night?" Carlos snaps.

"It's just a question, no need to get upset," Ana replies, rolling her eyes.

"Did you know who he was?" Blanca asks, holding your gaze.

"Uh, yeah, I recognized him. But I served him like any other customer," you recount.

"It must be weird," Ana continues, as your attention turns from her sister to her. "To see a celebrity walk into your little café."

"It's actually not so little," Carlos says. "It's pretty well-known in Madrid. Lots of customers."

"Never been," Blanca says curtly.

Carlos's mother gestures for her daughters to follow her, and the three women disappear in the kitchen before returning a few minutes later with their hands full of various dishes.

"Carlos told us you love to eat," his mother continues, giving you a genuine smile. "It's good that he didn't choose a very slender girl, for once," she adds, as you tilt your head. Was that supposed to be a compliment?

"What are your plans after the café?" Carlos' father asks, chewing on a piece of chicken. "Now that this first project has worked out?"

"I beg your pardon?" you ask, genuinely confused.

"What are you going to do with your life now?" Ana asks.

"Well... I'm going to keep running the café? It's my sanctuary, my biggest project. I'm so proud of it, I'm not going to give it all up now."

"Oh," his father replies, eyeing you. "I'd understood it was temporary. That you were a kind of investor."

"No," you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "That's... That's what I do."

The silence falls over the table, punctuated by the clinking of utensils. After a short while, Carlos's mother clears her throat, meeting your gaze.

"Forgive our questions. We're curious to get to know the person Carlos shares his life with. You have to understand, after seven years... You always know what you've lost, but you can never know what you've gained."

"And that was quite a loss," Blanca chimes in, sipping on her wine.

"You can't trust anyone these days. You never know if they love you for you or for your wallet," Ana states, looking at her perfectly manicured nails.

"Or your contact list," Blanca adds, shooting a glance your way.

"Okay," Carlos suddenly says, throwing his napkin on the table before getting up. "That's enough. We're leaving."

"What?" you say, looking up at him.

"They're clearly not ready for this. We'll come back when they finally understand that my ex is just that - my ex. Get your things, love."

You stand up, feeling your legs tremble, as Carlos' hand find the small of your back, pushing you towards the hallway.

"Don't be ridiculous," his mother says, standing up as well. "You can't expect us to forget seven years just like that."

"I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking you to respect my partner. But apparently, that's too difficult."

A few seconds later, Carlos is backing out of his parents' driveway, one arm around your seat, his gaze fixed on the rear window. In the passenger seat, you fidget with your fingers, staring at your hands and biting your lip nervously. His brows are furrowed. Jaw clenched. None of you exchange a word until you hit the main road, headlights from passing cars casting shadows on your faces.

"I'm so sorry," he finally says, stroking your thigh. "If I had known..."

"You couldn't," you reply, placing your hand on his. "I don't blame them. Seven years is no small thing."

Turning his head, his gaze meets yours.

"I won't pretend that those seven years didn't matter to me, that they meant nothing. Even though I don't have any romantic feelings for her anymore, she will always be a part of me in some way," he says, as you feel your heart tighten in your chest. "But she no longer occupies my thoughts. She's no longer imprinted under my eyelids. It's not her fingers that give me chills, her voice that makes my heart race. All day long, I think about you. I talk about you. Even at night, I dream of you. You're right beside me, so close, and yet it's not enough. You still find a way to get closer, to flow through my veins, to infiltrate every breath, every heartbeat."

"Sometimes I wish I could see myself through your eyes. That girl sounds exceptional," you say, laughing as you wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes."

"She's quite something," he replies, eyes on the road. "I can't wait for them to realize."

After the disastrous first encounter with your in-laws, over six months pass before Carlos comes join you on the terrace of your shared hotel room in Jeddah, placing a coffee in front of you. Bending down to sit beside you, the pilot winces, a hand on his stomach.

"Are you okay?" you ask, running your hand through his hair.

"I feel so fucking sick," your boyfriend says, a painful grimace on his face.

"Shouldn't you see a doctor, babe?" you ask, stroking his arm. "You look awfully pale. And you haven't eaten since yesterday morning."

"I can't keep anything down," Carlos replies, throwing his head back before closing his eyes.

"Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro," you start, earning a small grin from your boyfriend.

"I just love when you call me that."

"There's no way you're getting in that car tomorrow," you insist.

You didn't think you'd be so right. Well, not to this extent. Hurrying through the corridors of the hospital, two large aluminum trays in each hand, you dodge doctors and nurses along the way, weaving through visitors until you reach the door marked with the number you're looking for. You knock on the door, slipping inside before turning around to close it behind you.

"I wasn't sure what you'd prefer, so I got both," you begin, still facing the door, handle in hand. "The paella was quite easy to find, but I admit I had to cross the entire city for..." your sentence dies in your throat when, turning around, your eyes meet those of your mother-in-law. Then your father-in-law's. And your two sisters-in-law, crowded in Carlos' small hospital room.

"Oh," you utter, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know you'd be there. I'll leave you alone," you start, turning around once again.

"No! Stay," Carlos' mother says, rising to take the trays from you.

"We're really happy to see you again," his father says, rising as well to embrace you. "Carlos was telling us how well you took care of him. Thank you so much for being there."

"That's the least I could do," you reply, feeling intimidated. "He would have done the same for me."

"I may love you, but I'm not sure I would have slept in that armchair. Or changed your blood-soaked bandage," Carlos replies, eyes half-closed, still under the influence of anesthesia.

"You did what?" Blanca asks, turning to look at you, eyes wide.

"Well, his nurse was busy and it started leaking," you shrug.

"You slept here?" his father asks.

"They wouldn't let me at first, but I didn't feel like leaving him alone in a foreign hospital."

"She annoyed the staff so much they just gave up on throwing her out," your boyfriend lets out in a laugh.

"I didn't annoy anybody," you reply quickly, fearing what his family might think.

"You threatened an intern to tie yourself to the chair."

"I didn't do that," you half-laugh, shooting your boyfriend a warning look.

Seated on the side of Carlos' bed, bickering with your boyfriend while running your hand through his hair in a loving gesture, you don't see the glance exchanged between the Sainz family.

"We were thinking about something, before you arrived..." Ana begins, her eyes finding yours. For the first time, you're not met with her harsh, cold gaze, but with gentle eyes. "We have a family house in Mallorca. We thought it would be nice to all go there together, so Carlos can recover in peace. We would be very happy if you joined us."

"It'll be a chance for us to get to know you. And to apologize for our pathetic behavior last time."

"Carlos chose you," his mother starts, smiling warmly at you. "And we all understand why."

You could cry with happiness at the thought of finally being accepted, being welcomed into the family of the person you've shared your life with for almost a year now. At no longer being the new girl. The one after the love of his life.

At the though of maybe, simply being the one.

The real one, this time.

#f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #cs55 x you #cs55 x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #cs55 x female reader #formula1 imagine #formula1 #formula one

[the-clumsywitchtarot]

Pick-a-Card Reading: What do You Need to Release Right Now?

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

Cards

The King of Swords (Reversed)

Seven of Wands

King of Pentacles

This pile needs to let go of feeling like they've never done enough. I feel like you are someone that is diligent and puts their time and effort into almost any and everything that they do. But I feel like you have a hard time letting go and will continue to overthink something long after it's been completed, agonizing over what you could've done better. For instance, if you turn in an assignment at college or university you'll be thinking about how you could've better written the essay only to receive a 100% on it.

On a side note, I also feel like this pile needs to start listening to their intuition more, you are wise. Of course be careful when necessary. But don't completely dismiss your intuition.

Cards

Ace of Cups

Three of Swords (Reversed)

Seven of Pentacles (Reversed)

This is a very interesting pile because I'm getting two different things for some people that will choose this pile I'm getting that you need to release feeling bad about how you express your emotions and for others I'm getting that you need to stop dismissing your emotions.

For the first set of people (those that are made to feel bad about how they express their emotions) consider ignoring those around you that ridicule you for either being too emotional or not emotional enough. Everyone expresses their emotions differently, you have to do what works best for you, if you are extremely emotional, that's fine. And if you are more reserved with your emotions, that's perfectly fine too, please do not let anyone pressure you into changing your emotional expression.

For the second set of people that may have chosen this pile (those that dismiss their emotions). You may need to learn that it is okay and safe to feel and that it's probably better to feel your emotions to avoid issues down the road. I'm not saying that you need to be a puddle of tears and snot, but consider taking the time to actually feel instead of just dismissing an emotion as soon as it arises.

For anyone that chose this pile, if you feel that you might need help consider speaking with a licensed therapist to address any emotional issues that you may have. And if that's the case I wish you all the very best and I hope you receive absolutely everything that you need. 🩷

Cards

Eight of Swords

The Lovers

Queen of Cups

For this pile I'm getting that you need to release the feeling that you need to be perfect or fit some standard that is hard for you to conform to for a partner. This may be for an existing partner or one that you hope to attract. I mainly feel like this is about your physical appearance but I also see that you have some quirks that you feel like you need to hide in order to keep/make your partner happy. But what you don't see is that this person loves you for you, your appearance, those weird things that you try to hide from them, all of it. They find you captivating and they love that you're whole and complete. You're not draining to be around and in this person's eyes you are the whole package. Let's put it this way, if you were anything else in this person's life you'd be their favorite version of it, like if you were a city you'd be their favorite city. If you were a drink you'd be their favorite drink, etcetera, etcetera (a super weird way of describing how much they love you, I know but it's what I got 😊).

Stop thinking that you are not enough and need to be refined in some way to be loved.

Please let me know if your reading resonated and always remember not to make a decision based on a reading unless it's one you feel completely comfortable with. Thank you for visiting my tarot page!

All the Best to You,

Erika, The Clumsy Witch

#the clumsy witch #the clumsy witch tarot #tarot #pick a card tarot reading #pick a card #pick a card tarot #tarotblr #tarot blog #tarot reader #tarot readers of tumblr #black witches of tumblr #witches of tumblr #release #black tarot readers

[fairestones]

@legionscall liked for a starter for their muse Lark

Sola of Sonne studied the young woman before her, Brianne had long since left with Aelia, so it was just the queen and the new comer in the gilded throne room.

"I hear you are an adept fighter, Lady Lark." The queen said, if her captain of the guard was to be believed, this stranger was as skilled as any man in the Queen's Guard.

"What is your business in my kingdom?"

#legionscall #⧼♕⧽ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏 › sola in character #//I hope this is okay! Please let me know if anything needs changed

[yinjiyang]

Petals on the Path

@vilisus liked for a starter

       While Yin was fascinated with life, it was perhaps a bit difficult for him to interact directly with it.  Particularly with creations that were more susceptible to temperature changes.  Direct contact was dangerous.  But now and then, he came across something already dying, and perhaps the chill of his touch could preserve it for a bit longer, such as the flower he had found upon the path, likely fallen from a girl's basket as she excitedly rushed home with her floral finds.  Her loss was his gain.  After all, there was no harm in keeping the poor plant already destined for an early death before bloom could transition to fruit.  Delicate fingertips plucked the sprig from the ground and he stood elegantly with his newest treasure, examining it thoroughly, turning it in his grasp to inspect and admire from every angle as a gentle breeze lightly tossed a few loose strands of hair framing his features.

       "Before your time ends, we shall experience the world beyond your roots.  Carry the memories with you to your next life."  His voice was soft, ethereal, and haunting but mostly kind as he carefully tucked the flower behind his right ear.

#vilisus #vilisus - amin #petals on the path #the void #{ i hope this is okay } #{ please let me know if I need to change or add anything }

[cosmic-gemstone]

@starlight-empire-child liked for a starter with Oracle Qessyn!

~*~

Gazing out the window in silence, Qessyn quietly thought to herself. So much had happened. But she was, at last, free of the Empire’s cruelty. Safely with the Marmora, with the Coalition. For now, at least.

An ear flicked, and a soft smile graced her features. She was not alone; the sound of small feet indicated that. Turning, she spoke with a soft, gentle voice.

“You don’t need to be afraid, little one. Please, do come in.”

#v: the oracle #I hope this is okay! #if I need to change anything please let me know!

[respondedinkind]

Plotted starter for @ssolessurvivor

Something must have gone wrong at some point during Ka'anh's escape - because the last thing he remembers is that he made it, that he managed to get his beaten body to a shuttle and leave his home behind, flee from the special forces sent after him to try and get him to succumb to his fate.

Now, however, he's not where he should be, he can tell; He's not sitting within his shuttle, he's not controlling it in any way, he's not flying it through the vast distance of space.

He's lying on his stomach instead, face down, and the surface his face is pressed against isn't made of cold steel but rather of... something else. Something that smells different; It tickles his face, which Ka'anh barely feels, because the pain he experiences is probably the worst he's ever gone through.

A moan escapes him, deep and guttural; Something stabs into his abdomen, somewhere next to his navel, the rhythmic pulse a telltale of something dangerous happening within his skull. Every fiber of his existence is on fire, every nerve ending sending signals through his body at speeds that overwhelm him, and with every breath he takes, Ka'anh can hear his lungs rattle like he's pulling chains through his ribcage.

This might be the first time he actually wants to die - to just stay here and give up, to have this pain fade and leave him, throw him into darkness to never return. But of course he does not give in to the urge; He's a soldier, he's made for survival, and he doesn't want the fight against his own kind to have been for nothing - it wouldn't be worth it, deem it a failure despite his success to get away from a home that never has given him the comfort it should have in the first place.

Somehow, Ka'anh manages to move - he uses his left arm to push himself up, which, in return, causes his frame to roll onto his back; He cries out as he does, the pain that shoots through him so intense he feels like he's going to puke his guts out, but it does not happen, not yet. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth bared in agony, Ka'anh inhales, exhales, inhales and exhales - he whistles as he does, not on purpose but because his lungs continue to collapse, a rib or two must have broken through the tissue. His body shivers from exhaustion and effort to keep him alive, and when Ka'anh finally manages to crack his eyes open, he is greeted with blobs of blue and green, but no clear image that tells him where he is.

Brain damage, his mind successfully provides, most likey from whatever he's suffered through. He hears the sound of broken machinery, smells molten steel - he must have crashed somewhere, he assumes. Get up, get up, get up! Assess the damage, assess your health, figure out where you are and how you get away again!

As Ka'anh tries to do exactly that, he realizes his injuries must be even worse than expected - one of his legs doesn't cooperate, it's likely broken at least twice, somewhere along the hip perhaps. When he blinks to clear his vision, he can see the blurry shapes of his own self as he looks down - spotting his shirt being torn, soaked with blood, his shaking hands equally as bright red in color as he holds them up in front of his face. One wrist must be broken, it bends awkwardly, and the stabbing sensation from earlier is a piece of metal debris poking out from the left side of his lower abdomen.

"---Wi..." (Fuck), he grunts, his head falling back to the ground as he takes another breath, trying to steady himself. Only after a second he tries again, growls as he sits up, then somehow manages to turn back around so he is on all fours (or, all threes, as his one leg is of no use). His wrist creaks under the pressure and he, as quickly as he can, shifts his weight to his other hand - then uses the bad one to wipe away some sweat and blood from his forehead, blinking again as he takes a peek at what surrounds him.

His shuttle, wrecked. Nature that's unfamiliar to him, including trees and grass. The scent of blood is overwhelming, and despite everything being quiet it almost feels deafening, the silence added to his own blood rushing within his ears. He huffs, takes another breath, feeling nausea hitting him in sharp bursts to which he swallows - trying to keep it at bay.

He needs to... figure something out. He has a medkit somewhere, but to find it will be close to impossible with how damaged and torn his shuttle is. Perhaps his body would cope on its own, but with the concussion, the metal sticking inside his abdomen, the multiple broken bones all over his frame, the collapsed lung, possible internal bleeding... chances are slim, even for someone like him.

Ka'anh gives in, finally, and retches - covering the grass beneath himself in crimson, coughing in between, the pain almost too much to handle. Too much to exist. Too much to endure.

He thinks he hears something, somewhere - like twigs snapping beneath weight, perhaps. Fuck, where is his gun?! Where is it?! He can not find it on his own body as his hand starts to pat himself down...

#ssolessurvivor #Verse -> Closed;Ssolessurvivor #tw injury #tw mild gore #(I hope this is okay haha :'D) #(I wanted to write it soooo badly even though its very late here ... or rather early) #(so i hope this will work despite it being 4am sjhdfgsjkd) #(if theres anything you need me to change please feel free to let me know!)

[phoenix-flamed]

Continued from here:

Judging by the weapon his partner had at his side, Otto very much meant business. Which was even more intriguing and concerning, and this time it was more of the latter. The moment the other man turned towards him, Miles began searching his face for any clue, any indication of the severity of the situation -- fortunately, he wouldn't need to wait long for his answers.

And what answers they turned out to be.

As soon as the words Rosalith Castle left the bearded man's lips, Miles paled a shade. His entire body tensed up, pupils dilating; and for that moment, all he could hear was the frantic beating of his heart within his ears. But when Otto's composure started to slip just the slightest fraction, a sheen of wetness glimmering in his eyes, the older man snapped himself out of it, forcing back that steady, serious expression to mask the myriad emotions coursing through him.

An escaped Bearer to track down. Not just any Bearer, but Otto's own son. It was Miles who broke their eye contact, just for a few moments -- after turning his head downward, his blue-green eyes squeezed tightly closed, the furrow of his brow only deepening further. Being separated from a child was a pain he could relate to, and while his own story thus far had a bittersweet ending, in that he now knew his sons were alive, despite him lacking the courage to reveal his truth to them...

... He hoped, and prayed to Metia, that his friend and companion's story would have a happy ending. Of course, he did have questions, or curiosities rather, pertaining to Otto's past; those could wait until later, and he would wait patiently for Otto himself to be ready to divulge the information.

All too soon after, his eyes reopened, now filled with resolve for their mission -- and he nodded. "Time is indeed of the essence, if he is somewhere in Rosalith. Anabella may be gone, but there is ever a chance that her Black Shields may yet linger, or that pillagers have already descended upon the city to take advantage of the chaos."

Not to mention the fact that last he had heard, Rosalith had suffered much and more under the aggressions of Dhalmekia, as led by Hugo Kupka. But that was an entirely other matter that he didn't wish to dwell upon, when combined with everything else the city had suffered.

"But you already know these things," Miles apologized a moment later, before stepping forward to cross the gap between them and place a reassuring hand upon Otto's shoulder. "We will find him. I know the city and the castle both -- if he is still taking refuge there, rest assured that there are no places that he might hide that I am not myself aware of. Now, before we depart, were the new arrivals able to give a description of the area in which they took shelter, beyond simply near the castle? Any detail, no matter how small, will be an invaluable boon."

@hideawaysteward

#Encounters #Verse: From the Fire #hideawaysteward #Waaaaaah!! now it's my turn to say that I hope this reply works okay for you! if you need anything changed/modified let me know! #and don't be afraid to go nuts and get creative if you have an idea in mind for where they were taking shelter! I AM SO EXCITED AAAAAA #(but please forgive me if I keep popping into your IMs to ask a million little questions to make sure I'm on the same page as you!)

[harlowhanlon]

WHERE: some street, downtown closed starter for: @josiahhuddington

Nightfall was still some time ahead of the northern hemisphere, as Harlow strut down the busy sidewalk. She was late, late, late to a not-so-important date. Hasting through the slowly commencing downpour to a place she unwillingly and begrudgingly called home. It was an appointment, she was headed towards. A meeting with her roommate's netflix account and a bowl of salted popcorn. Merely a brief glance downward as she struggled to free her umbrella from the bag swung over her arm, caused a brief lack of keen attention. Merely a moment until a collision made her tumble, lose her balance and her ankle gave in.

"Ah," she groaned, as she slowly dared to sit up, a slightly painful throb crawling beneath her skin. She looked at her hurting ankle first. She looked at the man she'd bumped into second. "Ouch."

#chat; josiah #i hope this is okay dear. if you need or want me to change anything please let me know!

[inun4ki]

The man standing before him now bore a peculiar cursed energy signature, strange and unusual - uniquely foreign. But it was as fascinating as it was bothersome, previously relaxed nerves now tweaked by uncertainty and instinctive alarm. Kaede thought it best to be wary of and alert around sorcerers of all sorts, ally or foe, even and especially when wasting a few hours at a dive bar in the city and getting a little buzzed in the process. He was supposed to be having the fun other people his age were, meeting new people and letting loose, taking the edge off with a night out - not eyeballing a stange, handsome, probably dangerous sorcerer as if his night had been utterly, completely ruined.

He heaved a whisky-tinged sigh and rolled his eyes, pouting under the lamplight, tugging on a long lock of hair with a single finger and idly adjusting his jacket. Self-conscious at the wrong time, for he'd been caught staring, reflexively glancing away with a swiftness that would put his sober self to shame. He didn't say anything, pretending as if he hadn't been gawking at the man with silvery platinum hair and blue eyes, as if he hadn't noticed his cursed energy, the look on his face--

If he had to work on his days off, he was going to be pissed.

With a swell of, perhaps, arrogant clarity, Kaede looked at the man once more. If he spoke, he hadn't heard a word, too busy with his thoughts to listen properly. Lips moving without uttering a sound.

"You look familiar, sorry," he said quickly, a stubborn firmness to his cover. "Was trying to figure out if you were an actor, or...someone I might have met once."

@fromvitya

#死/// Threads. #/ i left it mostly neutral for flexibility reasons #/ awkward first meeting on the street! #'a handsome guy with spooky cursed energy does not bode well' #/ although he's being very matter of fact when saying viktor is handsome #/ i hope this is okay ! please let me know if i need to change anything

[cxpperhead]

🔪

Send 🔪 to walk in on my muse standing over a dead body.

The sewers are not one of Copperhead's favourite haunts. While the darkness is a thing he's comfortable with, the cold and the damp rubs his scales the wrong way and the rank stench of Gotham's Underbelly fogs his sense of smell for hours. It's only when desperate prey slips into the sewers that Copperhead is forced to follow after them, and from what he's heard during his time in Gotham, it's a place he does well to avoid. Imagine his surprise when he learns he's not the only reptilian metahuman in the world. It's part of the reason why Copperhead came all the way to Gotham in the first place despite the horrid winters. Sure, the opportunity to commit crime more freely had its allure but the thought that he's not alone, that he's not just one scaled freak in a world of normal people had him wistful for... something - he didn't know what, but he made the long trek from Arizona to here all the same. Now that he was staring down into the open sewer, Copperhead was wondering if perhaps he'd made the wrong choice. He didn't know much about this Killer Croc, only that he was large, and especially dangerous. A scaled behemoth who skulked beneath Gotham's streets and struck fear into the hearts of those who caught a glimpse of him, but he existed. Copperhead had watched the news, read articles to know there was truth to them, but he didn't know how well one like him would be received, or even welcomed as a kindred spirit. It wasn't as though there were welcome signs hanging up in places, but his quarry had slipped down here so it must be safe enough to venture into for now. Serpentine tongue flickers to access his surroundings as Copperhead descends the slime-coated walls. There are scents everywhere amidst the stench of humid rot and fetid water, of rats and their leavings. There's rotten food littered here and there too, dropped or scavenged by the teaming rodent hordes that threaten to swell before too long but Copperhead filters them out, instead focusing on the scent that drew him here... There! A lingering scent rubbed against the wall betrays where the one he was hunting has gone and Copperhead continues on, his eyes on the water at all times in fears (or hopes) of seeing a pair not so different his own. Was Killer Croc even down here? Or was he elsewhere, in another part of the city perhaps? Copperhead supposed it didn't matter much right now. He would cross that bridge when he came to it, but first he had a rat to catch and pursued his target relentlessly, eventually cornering him not five minutes later.

The last gasps of a dying man is rarely pleasant to hear. Copperhead is hanging over the water, claws clutching the ceiling as the struggling figure in his coils thrashes and squirms, growing weaker as the seconds pass. It's not long before white-knuckled fingers let go of his tail and sag bonelessly before Copperhead snaps the neck to make sure the man is well and truly dead, and then he freezes. There's another scent in the air though, and the serpent metahuman glances around, at the shadows and the waters before noticing he's no longer quite as alone as he thought. He looks guilty as all hell holding a dead body, and in Croc's territory no less but it's all Copperhead can do but speak out loud, and politely no less to let the sewer's true inhabitant he meant no harm. "Sorry, I hope he wasn't one of yours." The snake-like metahuman comments softly, wincing a little at how sound reverberate down here in these depths. It's a stark reminder that the surface is quite a bit further away than he likes, if Croc isn't the welcoming sort and sees this intrusion as some sort of challenge.

#ataviisms #memes ;; walk in on my muse standing over a body #Sorry about the wait! #And I hope this was okay for you #If you need anything changed please don't hesitate to let me know #I felt bad about making you wait a long time before interacting so wanted to give you something meaty #Something more than a one-liner anyway #That feel when Copperhead is lowkey excited but also nervous af because Croc's a juggernaut in comparison #And he's in Croc's territory not the other way around

[mccnxhild]

going out and getting drunk was in no way normal behavior for autumn - she usually wasn't one to go out alone. at least one other person would be by her side, but yet tonight was different for some reason. ans now here she ended up having to call the other to come to her rescue. cheeks rosy from the alcohol flush, a smile wide on her lips as she saw the other approach her. taking their face in her hands she smiled. "my savior! everything in my life feels worth it since it's all lead me to you." she beams. // @dollieour

#dollieour #hi thereee! i hope this is okay please let me know if you'd need me to change anything <3

[jeremylincoln]

WHO — @drewparrish WHEN — whenever works tbh! WHERE — on drew's front porch lol

"You think I could have my brother committed?" It wasn't a serious question, or even real musing Jeremy had. He was mostly venting after looking back at the shitstorm of a week he'd had with Derek. "I'm now understanding why some parents chain their kids up in the basement." Except, his little brother was 26, and not his child. When he'd taken over as his guardian Derek was well into his upper teens and for quite a few years Jeremy had been understanding of the way his brother's life had changed. Two hard losses and then an absentee bigger brother is suddenly your caregiver. It was just that after so many years it was hard to continue to take, especially since Derek seemed to regress rather than progress.

Both himself and his sisters had to buck up and move on, life hadn't stopped coming at them. Responsibilities, especially the family business suddenly in their hands, never allowed them time and space to grieve. "Anyway," he said between sips of his beer as he sat back on Drew's porch, "Your week's been better than mine, yeah?" Jeremy was holding back on saying the worst of it, since the fights were common now, that Derek had been trying to steal money from The Anchor.

#c | drew parrish. #c1 | drew parrish. #& | closed starter. #i hope this is okay! #please let me know if i need to change anything!

[cassromano]

starter: @ofwinnies location: line dancing @ big bang dance hall

There's absolutely no way in hell Cassie would miss this. It's not as if she has any particular long-term interest in dancing, let alone specifically line dancing, but the very idea of it just makes her heart soar with excitement. No expectations of skill? Live music, too? The hardest part had been finding a friend available on a Friday that would still be available once aware Cassie would likely be embarrassing herself in front of an audience, but she'd fired off messages all at once knowing someone amongst them wouldn't let her do this alone.

"I never thought I had two left feet until I got in this line." She laughs, full of joy despite tripping over her steps. "It looks so simple when everyone else does it and then I think it just moves too fast for my brain to keep up."

#interactions ♡ #thr:winnie001 #i hope this is okay! please let me know if anything needs changing :)

[star-paths]

@honeycoded clicked ♥ for a starter!

Nimble fingers plucked buttons through holes in his top one by one while the wardrobe assistants carefully steamed and stored his outfit after wearing. The knock at the door had him looking passed his own reflection to catch a glimpse at the one who opened it, not having expected the soft, familiar features of the young woman to appear; few except his group mates and wardrobe team bothered him in his personal spaces.

"Hana," he greeted her simply before turning his gaze back to his reflection and continuing to button his shirt. The wardrobe assistants exchanged a look before excusing themselves quietly passed the young woman. Ryung paid them no mind.

"Did you need something?"

#honeycoded #muse | sun ryung. #character | hana min. #//hope this is okay! #//please let me know if I need to change anything

[yinjiyang]

Shadow Petals

"When was the last time you actually got some rest?" -- @hua-cheng-silver-wrath -- Hua Cheng -- Lack of Sleep Starters

Three days. Three nights. That was how long it had been since the daoshi arrived in the village after hearing whispers of a mysterious illness afflicting its residents; an illness that did not appear abated by most medicines, but the daoshi seemed to at least know of a concoction capable of staving the effects, stopping the illness from worsening those infected. During the day, the windows were boarded yet he continued to work by the golden light of a single lantern at his table; but in the evening, the windows were open to allow the silvery glow of the moon and stars to shine on his workspace as he mixed and measured and stirred. To most, he appeared to be working tirelessly in the medicine house, at all hours of the night. Including this one. People had come in and out of the medicine house quite frequently...during the day. At night, however, it had generally been very quiet as the majority of the village slept. But not this person, it seemed. The sound of the voice--and more importantly, the ripples of that presence--warranted a lift of Yin Jiyang's head in acknowledgement of the visitor, though he did not look away from his work.

"...I am resting..." he softly replied as he continued to grind the dried herbs with the pestle, the sound quiet against the stone of the bowl and blending with the hauntingly ethereal quality of his void. "...this is therapeutic..."

#hua-cheng-silver-wrath #hua-cheng-siver-wrath - hua cheng #shadow petals #traveler verse #{ afdkasldkfj! of course i am still accepting! } #{ hi there! hello! hi hi hi! } #{ i hope it's okay that i went with my traveler verse. figured that was a likely scenario for them to meet } #{ perhaps hua cheng can sense something about him? y'know. neither of them being human and all that } #{ please let me know if i need to change anything! }

[e-m-p-error]

[ Closed Starter For @static-overlord ]

[ Valentino ]

"You, my pretty, pretty polilla," Puckering his lips and blowing a couple of kisses at himself, Valentino didn't stop there. His words were put on pause long enough for him to lean forward and kiss the mirror instead, then give it a little lick. That last one was a little bit of a mistake, and his face wrinkled up at the taste, but he didn't seem to mind, "Are going to knock him dead tonight."

That was the plan, anyway. He'd never had a problem so far with taking out the Overlords around Ostello's territory. The old weapons dealer had been replaced by Carmilla, and that was a bit of a setback, but Valentino knew he'd have her outfoxed before long.

Running his lower hands over the smooth, wide netting of the sides of his dress, he peered at the lace in the mirror. The floral pattern was befitting the plants in this apartment he was staying in as a decoy, and he loved how the lace fitted over his skin. The most solid part of the dress was the cups for his chest, which opened in a keyhole beneath his pecs to his stomach. A golden web with a brilliant, fiery carnelian stone in the center hung against his skin, warmed by his own body heat.

"If he doesn't want to rip this dress off you and ravage you on the spot," He told himself, poking the mirror and dragging his finger down his reflection's cheek, "Then he's blind, stupid, and not going to have a good time before he falls."

Fluffing his hands through his fur, he purred at his reflection, dragging his hands down further to the fishnets that he wore, and the tall PVC boots that crawled up his thighs, he hummed. Yes, yes, this was perfect. With his eyes all done up with vibrant, glittery red eyeshadow, red lipstick, sharply angled wings on his eyeliner, and heavy, thick false eyelashes, he thought he'd chosen the best possible look for tonight.

If Vox didn't want to fuck him, he sure did.

Blinking when he finally noticed the glaring red numbers on the clock by his bed in the mirror, he whipped around.

"Shit!" Grabbing his clutch purse and his crop half-jacket off the vanity chair, he rushed out of his bedroom and to the front door. He was already eight minutes late to when he was supposed to get picked up. The door slammed behind himself and he locked it quickly before trotting toward the car, knowing which one was Vox's immediately.

#And If You Get In My Face Then You’ll Get A Taste Even God Would Run Son (ναℓєитιиσ) #(Valentino and Vox - Static-Overlord) #cw suggestive #cw death mention #I hope this is okay! Please let me know if I need to change anything