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#a lot would be solved if I could sleep. and that’s just not happening right now
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I have had this annoying little cough since December (nobody has a more annoying cough) and it won’t go away and it is horrible. I—
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pucksandpower · 6 months
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What Happens in Vegas
Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader
Summary: the morning after the Las Vegas Grand Prix, you wake up with one new wedding ring and zero clue about what happened … or who your husband is
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You wake up with a pounding headache, the sunlight filtering through the curtains feeling like daggers in your eyes. Groaning, you roll over and glance at the clock on the nightstand.
12:37 pm.
Far later than you would normally sleep, but given the circumstances, not entirely surprising.
The night before was the Las Vegas Grand Prix and things had gotten a little out of hand afterwards. Okay, more like a lot out of hand.
The details are fuzzy but you vaguely recall dancing on a table at some point and did someone get pushed into the hotel fountain?
Ugh. You make a mental note to apologize to whoever ended up taking an unexpected late-night swim last night.
Sitting up slowly, you rub your temples, trying to ease the jackhammer currently going off in your head. Getting blackout drunk maybe wasn’t the most professional move, but hey, what happens in Vegas and all that.
You stumble into the bathroom, turning on the faucet and splashing some cold water on your face. As you reach for a towel, the glint of metal on your left hand makes you pause.
No. It can’t be.
But there it is, a simple gold band around your ring finger.
A wedding ring.
Your wedding ring, apparently.
“What the hell?” You mutter, staring at your reflection in disbelief.
You rack your brain, trying desperately to remember what happened last night. But it’s no use, the details are lost in an alcohol-induced haze.
You married someone last night. In Vegas. While ridiculously drunk.
This is bad. Really bad.
Your career, your reputation, everything is on the line here. Who knows what kind of scandal this could cause if word got out? You need to figure out who you married and do damage control, fast.
Taking a deep breath, you try to calm the rising panic. Freaking out won’t solve anything right now. You need answers and sitting here panicking won’t get you any. Time to do some investigating.
You quickly throw on some clothes and head downstairs to the hotel lobby. The drivers had agreed to meet for brunch today before getting thoroughly wasted last night. Maybe one of them knows something.
As you step out of the elevator, you immediately spot a group of your friends chatting in the lobby. Max, Charles, Lando … the usual suspects.
Lando is the first to spot you. “Well good morning, Mrs. Lando Norris,” he says with a cheeky grin.
You freeze. No way. There’s no way you married Lando. The kid is like a little brother to you. An obnoxious, hyperactive little brother. But Lando just laughs at your stunned expression.
“Kidding! You should see your face right now,” he giggles. Little punk. But at least that rules out Lando as your surprise husband.
You roll your eyes and shove Lando playfully before turning to the others. “So, crazy night last night, huh?” You say, aiming for nonchalance.
Max shrugs. “I mean, it’s Vegas. Things do tend to get wild.”
“Right, wild,” you echo. Time to cut to the chase. “So wild that I ended up getting married apparently.”
You hold up your left hand, wedding ring glinting in the light. The others stare at it then at each other, puzzled.
“Wait, you actually got married last night?” Charles asks incredulously.
You throw your hands up in exasperation. “Yes! And I have no idea who I married. Come on mates, you must remember something from last night that can help me figure this out.”
But their faces are blank, everyone shaking their heads. Useless, the whole lot of them.
You turn to Max, who averts his eyes, looking uncomfortable.
“Max, come on. You always know everything that happens on these nights out. Help me out here,” you plead.
Max shuffles his feet, not meeting your gaze. “I mean, it was pretty crazy. I was very drunk too,” he mumbles.
You sigh in frustration. Clearly you’re not getting anywhere with this group. You need to try someone else, someone who maybe left the party early last night.
You recall Fernando complaining about the horrible music at one point. Bingo.
“Alright, I gotta go see if I can find someone who can get me answers,” you announce. “You drunkards are no help.”
As you turn to leave, Charles calls after you, “Let us know if you find out who the unlucky guy is!” This earns snickers from Lando and Max.
You shake your head and head out to find Fernando. That Spaniard better have some useful information or there will be hell to pay.
One thing is certain, you will get to the bottom of this. You need to find out who this mystery husband is, sort out this mess, and most importantly, get this ring off your finger before the media catches wind of your drunken Vegas wedding.
This is going to be one hell of a day.
***
After leaving the unhelpful group in the lobby, you set out to find Fernando. The Spaniard has always had a keen eye for details. If anyone saw what happened last night, it would be him.
You find Fernando sitting alone at a table in the closest coffee shop, sipping an espresso. He looks irritatingly fresh-faced and put together given the wild night you all had.
“Well good morning, chiquita,” he says with a smirk as you plop down across from him. “You look like you had quite the night.”
You scowl at him. “No thanks to you. Leaving the party early again, I see.”
Fernando shrugs. “What can I say? I’m getting too old for these Vegas nights out with you crazy kids.”
You roll your eyes dramatically. “Oh yes, grandpa, you’re soooo old at 42. Anyway, I need your help figuring something out.”
You hold up your left hand, the wedding ring glinting under the lights. “Any idea how this might have ended up on my finger last night?”
Fernando raises an eyebrow, looking far too amused. “Well well, our little Y/N got married in Vegas. Who’s the lucky man?”
You huff in annoyance. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out! I don’t remember anything from last night. But I woke up this morning hungover as hell with this on my hand.” You waggle your finger for emphasis.
Fernando sits back, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, interesting. And you say you remember nothing?”
“Nothing!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up. “Everything after the third tequila shot is a total blank. Please tell me you saw something that can help me out here.”
You give Fernando your best pleading puppy dog eyes but the Spanish driver just shakes his head.
“Sadly, I did not witness this alleged wedding. I turned in early, unlike you wild youths.”
You groan and let your head fall to the table. “This is bad, Fernando. Really bad. I could lose my seat over this if the team finds out I pulled a stunt like this. I need to figure out who I married!"
Fernando pats your head condescendingly. “There there, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. Your secret is safe with me.”
You peer up at him suspiciously. “Just how secret is this? The smirk on your face makes me think you know something.”
The smirk widens. “Maybe I know something, maybe I don’t. But I’m not going to spoil the surprise for you.”
“Nando!” You smack his arm as he laughs. “This isn’t funny! Just tell me who I married!”
“Nope,” he says, popping the P obnoxiously. “It is too entertaining watching you squirm.”
You let out a frustrated growl. “You’re the worst. I don’t know why I bothered asking you for help.”
“Because you love me, that’s why,” Fernando says with a cheeky wink.
You can’t help but smile a bit at that. You’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for the menace.
“Ugh fine, keep your secrets,” you concede. “I’ll figure this out without your help.”
You start to stand up but Fernando stops you. “Leaving so soon? Stay, have some breakfast with me. You’re going to need your energy today.”
Your stomach rumbles at the mention of food so you sink back down into your seat. “I guess I could eat something while I plot my next move.”
A waiter comes by and you order a massive plate of food to soak up the alcohol still swimming in your system. As you tuck into your meal, you notice Fernando watching you from across the table, looking thoughtful.
“You know,” he says. “Whoever you ended up marrying ... they are a very lucky man. Underneath this hungover mess, you have a good heart. Don’t be too hard on yourself over one wild night, eh?”
You pause mid-bite, touched by his sincerity. “Thanks, Nando. That really means a lot coming from you.”
He smiles and squeezes your hand briefly before returning to his coffee. The playful twinkle returns to his eye. “Even if you did get married like an idiot last night.”
You snort. “Wow, thanks. Way to ruin the moment there.”
Fernando shrugs, unrepentant. “What can I say? I live to annoy you, little sister.”
You finish up your meal, feeling slightly better with some food in you. As frustrating as that encounter was, at least you can count on Fernando to keep this quiet. Time to go gather more clues.
You stand and point an accusatory finger at Fernando. “This isn’t over. I will get to the bottom of this mystery marriage!”
Fernando just smiles enigmatically. “I have no doubt. Good luck, Mrs. Whatever Your New Last Name Is.”
You stick your tongue out at him maturely and flounce away. That man is infuriating. But the quest continues. Time to find the next driver on your interrogation list.
***
You decide to try your luck with Daniel next. The Aussie partied hard but he’s also a notorious gossip. Maybe he caught wind of something that can point you in the right direction.
You find Daniel lounging by the pool, sunglasses on, basking in the Vegas sun like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
So unfair.
“Hello there, sunshine,” he drawls as you walk up. “Don’t you look fresh as a daisy this fine day.”
You glare at him from behind your own sunglasses. “Stuff it, Ricciardo. I’m only here because I need information from you.”
Daniel gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “You wound me! Here I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends,” you roll your eyes. “When you’re not being a pain in my ass.”
“A pain in that fine ass of yours? Perish the thought!”
You smack him lightly upside the head and he chuckles. “Alright alright, what do you need from old mate Daniel?”
You plop down in the lounge chair next to him and hold up your left hand. “I need you to tell me anything you know or can remember about how this got on my finger last night.”
Daniel lets out a low whistle. “Well tickle me pink and call me Sheila, Y/N’s gone and got herself hitched in Vegas!”
You shush him frantically. “Keep your voice down! The last thing I need is for this to get out.”
Looking far too delighted by the situation, Daniel leans in conspiratorially. “Right, top secret and all that. Who’s the lucky fella then?”
You sigh. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Everything after we moved on to OMNIA is a total blackout. Please tell me you know something.”
Daniel taps his chin thoughtfully. “Let me think here ... I may have some recollection of the night’s events.”
You perk up. “Yes? Go on then, tell me!”
“I do seem to remember ...” he pauses theatrically, “... that I was your very own ring bearer for the occasion!”
Your face falls. “Seriously? That’s all you’ve got?”
Daniel grins cheekily. “What can I say, it was a beautiful ceremony. I was truly honored to be part of it.”
You smack his arm. “You’re no help at all! Come on, I’m desperate here.”
Daniel laughs and puts up his hands. “Alright, alright, I’m just having a bit of fun with ya. Truth is, I was as pissed as the rest of you lot last night. Don’t remember much myself.”
You sigh. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.
Daniel must take pity on your crestfallen face because he places a hand on your shoulder. “Chin up, Y/N. So you got a little wild in Vegas, it happens. I’m sure you’ll get it all sorted out.”
You nod but can’t keep the worry from your face. “I know, it’s just ... this could really screw things up if anyone finds out. I don’t even know who I married!”
“Well then it’s a good thing you’ve got the Honey Badger on the case!” He proclaims cheerfully. “I may not have the details but I’ll sniff around and ask some questions on the down low.”
You smile gratefully. “I appreciate that. Hopefully someone around here knows something.”
Daniel pops to his feet and offers you a hand. “Too right! Now come on, up you get. Let’s go scrounge up some greasy food and hair of the dog for that hangover, eh?”
You let Daniel pull you to your feet, feeling bolstered by his positivity.
As you head towards the sports bar in search of a burger and fries, Daniel slings an arm around your shoulder. “Cheer up! This’ll make for one hell of a story someday. It might even become a Grill The Grid trivia question.”
Despite everything, you have to laugh. Trust Daniel to look for the bright side.
But you still can’t ignore the uneasy feeling in your stomach. You married someone last night. For real. It’s not just some random hookup you can laugh off. There’s a living, breathing person out there who you pledged your life to and you don’t even know their name.
What kind of person did drunk Y/N choose as a life partner? Are they worried about this too? Or are they some opportunistic sleaze looking to take advantage of you?
You shake your head, realizing Daniel is watching you with a quizzical look. No use speculating. Just keep searching for answers, one driver at a time.
***
After saying goodbye to Daniel, you set off in search of Lewis. As the life of every party, surely he has to know the details of your wild night.
You eventually track him down just outside the hotel, walking his beloved bulldog. Lewis grins when he sees you approaching.
“Ah the bride awakens at last! We were wondering when you’d emerge,” he says with a chuckle.
You roll your eyes. “News sure travels fast. I’m guessing Nando blabbed?”
Lewis shakes his head. “When you have an impromptu wedding in the middle of a rager in Vegas, people are going to talk.”
You wince, dreading how far word of this has already spread. But that’s a problem for later. Right now, you need information.
“About that ...” you say. “I don’t suppose you happen to know who I ended up marrying last night?”
Lewis’ grin widens. “Now what kind of best man would I be if I spilled the beans?”
You stare at him in shock. “Best man? You were there?”
“But of course!” Lewis declares. “Had to lend my impeccable fashion sense for your dress. Pulled some strings with a stylist I know and got you all hooked up last minute.”
Your mind is reeling. You got married in an actual wedding dress? This just gets worse and worse.
You wrack your brain trying to picture it. But you have zero memory of any dress. Lewis must read the confusion on your face.
“Don’t worry, I had it safely delivered to your room after you started taking it off in the middle of the club. Though I’m guessing you were in no state to keep track of it,” he chuckles.
You shake your head, still stunned. “I didn’t see any dress in my room. What did you do with it?”
Lewis taps his chin. “You know, I did pop in this morning to check on you but you were still passed out cold. So I had the dress boxed up and sent off to be preserved and framed as a gift.”
He crouches down to scratch Roscoe behind the ears. “That’s from me and this good boy right here. Couldn’t let such a work of art go to waste!”
You’re touched in spite of yourself. “That’s really sweet, thank you. But I would really rather just know who I married right now.”
Lewis stands back up and wags his finger. “Ah ah ah, where’s the fun in that? This is the most entertainment we’ve had all season!”
You groan as Lewis laughs. “Come on, Lew. Have mercy and put me out of my misery here.”
But Lewis just zips his mouth. “My lips are sealed! Don’t you worry though, he’s a great guy. You’ve got my stamp of approval.”
You cross your arms in frustration. Of course Lewis would drag this out like a sitcom. But his clue gives you pause.
“He’s a great guy,” Lewis said. So your mystery spouse is someone Lewis personally knows and actually approves of. That narrows it down a bit.
Lewis gives you an apologetic smile and checks his watch. “I’d best be off. But don’t worry, you’ll figure this out!” He tosses a wink over his shoulder as he saunters away with Roscoe in tow.
You watch them go, mind spinning.
Lewis doesn’t just compliment anyone. So apparently drunk Y/N didn’t marry a total disaster. That’s something at least.
You absently twist the wedding band around your finger. You wish you could remember anything about him, about what happened between you.
Did you have a beautiful ceremony? Exchange heartfelt vows? Share a magical first dance as spouses?
You shake your head ruefully. If so, what a shame not to remember any of it. Here’s hoping that this “great guy” turns out to be someone who can make you fall in love all over again ...
***
You decide on a new approach — find the person who actually married you and your husband last night. Whoever officiated the ceremony must know the identity of your mystery groom.
The only problem is, you have no idea who that could be. It’s not like Vegas chapels employ actual priests or judges to perform marriages. It was probably just some random person licensed to perform marriages.
You start making the rounds of the chapels on the Strip, showing your ring and asking if anyone remembers you coming in during the night. But you have no luck — most of the chapels you try to check in with aren’t even open yet, catering to the drunk impulsive crowd that comes out after dark.
After hours of fruitless searching, you plop down on a bench in front of the Venetian, racking your brain for what to try next.
A group of women in matching Bride Tribe shirts walk by, laughing and chatting in that way only tipsy daytime bachelorettes can.
One of them pauses as they pass and calls out to you. “Hey hun, you look down. Guy trouble?” She gestures to your ring.
You debate waving her off but then reconsider. Maybe a bachelorette party would know their way around the Vegas wedding scene.
“Yeah, you could say that,” you reply. “I’m trying to find the person who married me last night but it was a bit of a ... wild impromptu thing. I don’t even know where it happened.”
The women gasp excitedly. “Oh my god, a drunk Vegas wedding? That’s epic!” Says the one in the rhinestoned Bride To Be sash.
“Epic disaster more like,” you mutter but can’t help smiling. Their enthusiasm is infectious.
The bride puts her arm around you. “Don’t worry sweetie, we’ll help you sort this out! I know all the best chapels.” She turns to her posse. “Ladies, let’s help her track down her mystery hubby!”
You find yourself swept up in the bachelorettes’ mission to assist you. After barraging you with questions about the wedding (“Please tell me you at least had a cute dress?” “Oooh was it Elvis themed?”), they decide that the most likely chapel was The Little Vegas Wedding Chapel off the north end of the Strip.
You all pile into their pink party bus and soon pull up at the aforementioned chapel. The receptionist greets you with a smile. “Welcome ladies! Who’s the lucky bride today?”
The girls nudge you forward. You clear your throat awkwardly. “Well actually, I’m trying to find out if I was a bride here last night.” You show her your ring. “I don’t remember much but I know I got married. I was hoping you might have a record?”
The receptionist types away on her computer, then frowns. “Hmm doesn’t look like we had any late night weddings yesterday. Our last was at 10 pm.”
You sigh but thank her anyway. So much for that idea. At least the bachelorettes are still upbeat as you climb back on their bus.
“No luck there but it was still a fun adventure!” The bride-to-be seems to have all the enthusiasm in the world.
You nod, grateful for their attempts to help. As the bus starts moving, the bride gasps.
“Wait, girls, I think I know where we need to go!” She turns to you excitedly. “There’s this little all-night chapel down on Fremont Street. Our friend Val got married there on a total whim a few years ago and she said it was fabulous!”
A chorus of squeals greets this news. You aren’t sure this is a solid lead, but hey, it’s not like you have any better ideas.
“Alright, let’s give it a shot!”
Twenty minutes later you’re climbing out of the bus in front of a small chapel with a neon 24 Hour Weddings sign. Taking a deep breath, you push through the door into the kitschy Vegas-themed space.
At the front counter is an older man in an Elvis costume that must be at least a size too small. Bingo. You hurry over and show him your ring.
“By any chance did you marry me and some guy last night?”
The Elvis impersonator peers at you for a moment before his face lights up in recognition. “Well slap me sideways, you’re the lovely lady I helped get hitched last night! What a shindig that was!”
Your heart leaps. Finally a lead! “Yes that was me! Do you by chance have a record of who I married?”
Elvis frowns. “You mean you don’t remember the young fella? He was real handsome, said some mighty sweet vows if I recall correctly.”
You shake your head in frustration. So close and yet so far.
Elvis pats your arm. “No worries darling, old Elvis remembers. I gotcha hitched to ...”
You lean forward eagerly as Elvis taps his chin, racking his memory.
“Now let’s see ... young fella you married. He was oh ... a bit taller than you I’d say. Had one of them European accents — German, Swedish, or somethin’ like that. Brown hair I think. A pretty good lookin’ chap. Dressed real sharp too.”
Your heart sinks as Elvis delivers the extremely vague description. Brown hair and a little over your height? Well that only narrows it down to about half of the paddock!
You groan and smack your forehead in frustration. So close! Elvis gives you an apologetic look.
“Aw shucks, wish I could tell ya more little lady. But I was croonin’ so many love songs last night that all you couples started to blend together.”
You force a smile, knowing he did try his best. “That’s alright, I appreciate you checking for me.”
Back outside, you fill in the eager bachelorettes on Elvis’ less than helpful clues. Their excitement deflates a bit.
“Dang, that could be like, anyone!” One says, voicing your thoughts exactly.
The bride-to-be squeezes your shoulder. “Don’t worry hun, we’ll keep thinking! Your mystery man is out there somewhere.”
You give her a grateful hug. “Thanks ladies, for all your help today. I should probably get back to my hotel and keep investigating.”
The gaggle of girls walks you back to the bus, firing off more wild theories about your potential groom.
“Oooh what if it’s that sexy Spanish driver … Alfonso?” Suggests the bridesmaid named Amy.
“It’s Alonso,” you correct with a laugh. She may be way off but you appreciate the enthusiasm.
As you say goodbye to your new friends, your mind is spinning once again. So Elvis confirmed this wedding really happened, though his clues weren’t particularly enlightening.
But he did say one thing — whoever you married gave sweet vows. So apparently in your drunken state, you picked someone who could be sincere and romantic.
That has to count for something, right?
You glance down at the wedding ring on your finger, the physical reminder of the huge secret you’re unraveling. Did you really promise to spend your life with someone here of all places? And do they plan on holding you to that promise?
Your gut twists with anxiety but also a trace of curiosity. Who is this mystery man who can make drunken Elvis shed a sentimental tear?
Whoever he is, you’re going to find him.
***
Exhausted after a day of fruitless searching, you decide to head back to your hotel to regroup. You slump down onto one of the plush couches in the crowded lobby, mind still spinning over the bizarre situation you’ve found yourself in.
Who exactly did you end up pledging eternal devotion to in your drunken stupor last night? So far your quest to unravel this mystery marriage has led nowhere.
But you can’t rest yet. You need answers.
As you sit there contemplating your next move, your phone starts blowing up with Twitter notifications. You blink in surprise. Must be big news dropping for this much activity.
You open the app and nearly swallow your tongue when you see the top trending hashtag: #Y/NMaxWedding.
Your stomach drops to your feet.
No no no, this cannot be happening!
But with a sense of impending doom, you click on the hashtag. Immediately you see the bombshell that has sent your world into a tailspin.
It’s a tweet from a fan account, featuring photos they somehow obtained of a Clark County Nevada marriage certificate between you ... and Max Verstappen. Your teammate.
You stare slack-jawed at the images of the official document signed by you and Max as spouses, clear as day. Your drunken Vegas escapade isn’t a secret anymore. It’s public record, blasted all over social media.
Numb with shock, you scroll through countless tweets analyzing, freaking out over, and cracking jokes about you and Max’s surprise nuptials. Some fans are outraged. Others seem delighted at this bombshell gossip.
You groan, head in your hands. This is an absolute disaster. What was merely a drunken mistake is now immortalized online. There’s no hiding it or hoping it will blow over quietly.
You married Max freaking Verstappen in Vegas. The sometimes arrogant and standoffish but always crazy talented driver you’re teammates with. No wonder he was acting so squirrelly this morning when you asked about the wedding.
Some logical part of your brain knows you need to talk to Max, start figuring out what to do for damage control. But the overwhelmed emotional side just wants to crawl under a rock and hide.
In a daze, you make your way up to your suite. Once inside, you toss your phone onto the bed, not even bothering to read the likely hundreds of texts blowing it up. You are in no state of mind to talk to your manager or team right now.
Collapsing onto the couch, you stare blankly at the wall, feeling numb. Despite all your investigating, a part of you still hoped that maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe the ring and certificate were just part of some elaborate prank.
But there’s no denying it now. You’re well and truly married to Max Verstappen.
A hysterical laugh bubbles out of you. Of all the drivers, of course you had end up with him. Max, your fiercest rival, constantly pushing you to be better. The teammate who drives you crazy but also loves to compete with you and rile you up.
God, your friends are never going to let you live this down. Married to Max. It’s like some cheesy fanfiction brought to life.
You glance over at your silent phone. The logical part of your brain knows you need to call him. You’re going to have to talk about this and figure out what the hell to do next.
But the overwhelmed part wants to put that conversation off indefinitely. You need time to process the bombshell that just upended your life before you can face Max.
Your inner debate is interrupted by a knock at your door. You freeze. No doubt it’s the Red Bull PR team come to scold you or paparazzi looking for a comment on your no-longer-a-secret marriage. Well you have nothing to say to them!
“Go away!” You yell but the knocking persists. With an irritated huff, you wrench open the door, fully prepared to give whoever’s there a piece of your mind.
Instead, you come face to face with the person you least expected but probably most needed to see. Max stands in your doorway, sheepish and awkward.
For several tense beats, you just stare at each other, the weight of this life-altering moment hanging between you.
Finally Max breaks the silence. “So ... quite a day, huh?” He gives an uneasy chuckle.
You continue gaping at him, stunned into silence. Max shuffles his feet, not quite meeting your eyes.
“Can I uh, come in? I think maybe we should talk.”
Wordlessly, you step aside and let him enter the suite. Max perches on the edge of an armchair while you sink onto the couch. More tense silence.
Max clears his throat. “So I’m guessing you’ve seen it?”
You nod mutely. Max sighs and runs a hand through his hair.
“Look, Y/N ... I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But I woke up just as confused as you this morning. Wasn’t totally sure it was even real.”
He hesitates then continues softly. “You were pretty out of it last night. We all were. Getting hitched was obviously crazy but I guess it seemed fun in the moment.”
You shake your head, finding your voice at last. “This goes way beyond fun, Max! We’re married! Actually married!" Your voice edges up hysterically on the last word.
“Yes it was a ... crazy night,” Max laughs nervously.
You scoff bitterly. “That’s putting it mildly. I’d say a drunken Vegas wedding to my teammate counts as more than just crazy!"
Max winces at your tone. “Look Y/N, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. But we were all wasted last night. I didn’t even remember at first—”
You cut him off sharply. “Well I don’t remember any of it! As far as I’m concerned, this so-called marriage never even happened.”
You begin pacing. “We need to get this annulled immediately before things get worse. It was clearly an idiotic mistake.”
Max frowns, looking hurt. “Whoa, no need to be so harsh. It may have been drunken impulse but ... maybe it was also fate.”
You stop pacing and stare at him incredulously. “Fate? Are you insane?”
He stands and steps towards you. “Hear me out. We’ve been teammates for years now. Maybe deep down we both wanted this.”
Your jaw drops open. Max keeps going.
“I know it’s crazy but what if this marriage was meant to be? We owe it to ourselves to give this a real shot before bailing.”
You gaze at him in disbelief. Is he seriously suggesting ...
“Give this a real shot?” You repeat faintly.
Max takes your hands earnestly. “Yes! We’ve always made a great team on track. Just imagine how great we would be together off track too.”
You open your mouth to argue but Max presses on. “Plus, my children need a mother.”
You yank your hands back in shock. “Children? You have kids?”
“Well, not human kids,” Max admits sheepishly. “But my cats, Jimmy and Sassy! They need a maternal influence.”
Your head spins as you try to keep up with Max’s ramblings. Is he pranking you right now?
He fixes you with his most charming smile. “Come on, wifey. Just give it a chance! We’re clearly compatible if drunk us wanted to get married.”
You stare at him like he sprouted a second head. Max gazes back hopefully. His smile really is kind of adorable ...
No! Snap out of it! This is crazy.
But he does raise some valid points. And backing out now would cause an even bigger scandal ...
You slump down onto the couch with a groan. “Fine! We’ll stay married for now. But we explain to the team it was just drunken foolishness.”
Max pumps his fist. “Yes! See, we’re already compromising with each other. It’s like we’re meant to be husband and wife!”
That finally breaks through your haze of shock. Oh god ... you have to tell Christian Horner that you married Max Verstappen.
***
You take a deep breath as you stand outside Christian’s hotel suite, arm raised to knock. “Ready for this?” You ask Max.
He grimaces. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Might as well get it over with.”
You steel your nerves and rap sharply on the door. After a moment, it swings open to reveal Christian mid-yawn.
“Y/N, Max, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He asks curiously.
You shuffle your feet, not sure how to start. “Uh, hey Christian. Max and I have something we need to discuss with you. Mind if we come in for a minute?”
Christian narrows his eyes but steps aside to let you both in. “What’s this about? I just got off a conference call with the factory team in Milton Keynes and I was finally planning to try my luck with the slots downstairs.”
You perch awkwardly on the edge of an armchair while Max stands next to you stiffly.
How do you even begin to break this kind of news to your boss?
“So Christian, funny story ...” you start lamely.
Max jumps in, deciding to just rip the bandaid off. “We got married last night.”
Christian’s eyes widen comically. For a long moment he just looks between you two like you each have three heads. Then he throws his head back and laughs heartily.
“Good one guys, you almost had me there! Trying to pull one over on your poor old team principal, very funny,” he chuckles, wiping his eyes.
You give a weak smile. “No uh, we’re actually being serious. We got married for real last night.”
Max nods. “It just sort of ... happened.”
Christian collapses onto the sectional, looking between you in shock. “This would be a great time for you to stop with the prank.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Max says solemnly. “We were drunk and it was all really quite fast ...”
“No no, this must be some kind of joke!" Christian protests, though he’s starting to look uncertain. He grabs his phone off the coffee table. “Let me just check online, there’s no way ...”
His voice trails off as he scans his phone screen, eyes going wide at the headlines. With a low groan, he collapses back into his armchair.
“It’s true? You two actually ...” He drags a hand down his face. “Please tell me this is all some elaborate hoax the internet cooked up. Please tell me that two other people named Max Verstappen and Y/N Y/L/N happened to get married in Vegas last night.”
You shake your head helplessly.
Christian drops his head into his hands with a groan. “Unbelievable. Two of my drivers running off and eloping in Vegas! The media is going to have an absolute field day with this.”
He fixes you both with a stern glare. “Do either of you have any idea the position this puts the team in? The scandal it could cause?”
You hang your head, properly chastised. Max speaks up tentatively. “We’re really sorry, Christian, it was incredibly stupid of us. But it’s done now so we just have to deal with it.”
Christian sighs heavily. “You’re not wrong. The last thing we need is more media drama so we will have to get out in front of this.”
He pauses, regarding you both shrewdly. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll pursue an annulment right away and we can pretend this never happened?”
You glance at Max, who takes your hand and shakes his head. “We’ve talked it over and want to make this work. It happened for a reason.”
Christian makes a strangled noise. “Make this work? You plan on staying married??” His voice rises in pitch, verging on hysterical.
“We want to try,” you confirm, squeezing Max’s hand.
Christian looks desperately between you two once more before his eyes roll back and he slumps over in a dead faint.
You and Max rush over in concern. “Christian!" Max taps his face urgently. “C’mon, wake up!”
After a few tense moments, Christian’s eyes flutter open. “Wha ... what happened?” He mumbles.
“You passed out when we told you we’re staying married,” you explain sheepishly.
Christian groans, covering his face with his arm. “God help me, this is a nightmare ...”
You have to bite back an inappropriate laugh. Seeing your usually unflappable team principal so flustered would be funny if the situation wasn’t so serious.
Max helps Christian sit up and hands him a glass of water. “Sorry for springing this on you. But we’re going to make the best of it.”
Christian fixes Max with a weary look. “Just promise me no more reckless surprises from you two.”
You and Max raise your right hands in unison. “We promise!”
Taking a deep breath, Christian straightens his shirt and smooths his hair, regaining his composure. “Right. Well this is certainly an unexpected development. But the show must go on.”
He adopts his usual businesslike tone. “We’ll need to draft a press release announcing this immediately and get ahead of the media cycle. No commenting publicly until we strategize.”
You both nod obediently. Christian checks his watch. “I needed to get our PR team on the phone five minutes ago. You two, order room service and lay low until you hear from me.”
He ushers you politely but firmly out the door. As it shuts behind you, you turn to Max with wide eyes. “Well ... that could’ve gone worse?”
Max winces. “I thought Christian was going to burst a blood vessel at first. But it seems he’s taking it in stride.”
You both burst into slightly hysterical laughter, the stress melting away.
Looks like you have a marriage to figure out how to actually make work.
***
One year later
You take a deep breath as you knock on the door to Christian’s office, Max by your side. It’s time to break some more big news to your team principal.
“Come in!” Christian calls.
You enter to find him sitting at his desk surrounded by the usual organized chaos of strategy plans and data analysis.
He looks up, blinking in surprise. “Y/N, Max, what brings you by?”
You glance at Max, who gives you an encouraging nod and tentative smile. Turning back to Christian, you clasp your hands together nervously.
“Hey Christian. So, remember last year in Vegas when we promised no more reckless surprises?”
Christian’s eyes narrow warily. “Yeeesss ...” he draws out.
You look at Max again who blurts out, “Well we have another surprise coming your way. You’re going to be a grandpa!”
Christian’s jaw drops. His gaze darts down to your still flat midsection then back up to your nodding, beaming faces.
“You ... you’re ...” Christian stammers, looking like all the blood has drained from his face.
You take pity and confirm it for him. “Pregnant, yes. Surprise!” You add with an awkward chuckle.
For a few long moments Christian just sits there, mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a fish. Then, his eyes roll back and he topples forward, head thunking down on his desk.
You and Max rush forward. “Uh no, I think we broke him again,” Max winces, gently shaking Christian’s shoulder.
After a few tense seconds, Christian stirs with a groan. “Oww, my head ...”
“You passed out when we told you about the baby,” you explain sheepishly.
Christian blinks blearily up at you both hovering over him anxiously. “The baby ... so it’s really true then?”
You place a hand on your stomach. “Yep! There’s going to be a little Verstappen running around in around seven and a half months.”
Despite his obvious shock, Christian manages a weak smile. “Well how about that ... we’re expanding the Red Bull family.”
Max claps him on the back. “I know it seems a bit crazy but we’re thrilled.” He squeezes your hand and smiles softly.
Christian lets out a long breath, straightening his rumpled shirt. “Well, I appreciate you both coming to me first this time. We’ll need to strategize how to share the happy news.”
You can’t resist teasing him gently. “Don’t worry, we’ll do our best to avoid making you faint again in the future.”
Christian levels a stern finger at you both. “See that you do. My heart can only take so much.” But his mock glare melts into a warm smile.
You exchange a grin with Max.
It turns out that sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas … but neither of you is going to complain about that.
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eldritch-thrumming · 2 months
Text
is it casual now?, pt. two
pt. one
my friends call me a loser ‘cause i’m still hanging around. i’ve heard so many rumors that i’m just a girl that you bang on your couch. i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn’t lose. you said, “we’re not together,” so now when we kiss i have anger issues. you said, “baby, no attachments,” but we’re knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?
around one in the morning, steve can’t take the tossing and turning anymore. he calls robin and she just says she’s coming over. she rides her bike all the way to steve’s house in the dark even though he tells her over and over not to do that. she just does.
he both loves and hates that she does.
steve’s on the couch in the living room again, moved back downstairs when he realized sleep wasn’t coming tonight. he’s sitting right where eddie had looked at him and rejected him. right where eddie had decided steve wasn’t worth the trouble. even in the privacy of his own mind, steve knows he’s not being exactly fair, but he can’t stop his thoughts from circling over what happened, over and over and over again, until the night is all smooth around the edges, all the good stuff rubbed away.
so that’s where robin finds him, wrapped in the navy comforter he’d dragged from his bed with the television glowing on mute. the house is dark and she just lets herself in like she always does.
“i take it the talk didn’t go so well,” her voice is light and steve can tell she’s trying not to add any inflection to the statement, trying hard so it doesn’t sound like a question.
“i don’t know, doesn’t every great love story start with someone storming out after the confession?” steve tries to make it a joke, to make it sound flippant, but his voice comes out flat. robin’s mouth quirks up a little any way and he knows it’s something like a pity laugh, but it does soothe the stabbing pain in his chest just a little.
“you wanna talk about it or you wanna let me take you to bed and big spoon the shit out of you?” robin reaches out to run her hand lightly through his hair, just once, before she lets it fall back into her lap. she’s wearing her pajamas, the wide leg of her flannel pants stuffed into her bright yellow rainboots, like she’d left the house in a hurry, couldn’t bother to change or find proper footwear.
steve sighs. “not a whole lot to talk about. i told him it would be kinda cool to maybe… date but he said he already told me he doesn’t really do that. and he’s right. i was just being dumb, i guess.”
“is that how you said it?” there’s a crease between her eyebrows now and she’s got that expression on her face that she always gets when she’s trying to solve a puzzle.
“i mean, not, like, word for word or whatever, but yeah, that’s the general gist of how it went.”
her expression shutters and her jaw sets. “right, well. he doesn’t have to be a super mega asshole about it.”
“he wasn’t,” steve tells her, earnestly. robin is eddie’s friend too and he doesn’t want this whole dumb thing ruining that too. they could all use all the friends they could get at this point, especially ones who get it, whatever it happens to be. “i promise. it was just… my mistake. he did tell me, from the beginning. i just misunderstood.”
robin’s face softens slightly. she reaches her hand out to lock her fingers with his and they sit there in the glow from the tv for a long moment, silent. “let’s go to sleep,” she yawns finally, standing from the couch. “everything will be better in the morning.”
~*~
robin is half wrong, but she’s also half right. things are better in the morning. steve doesn’t feel like his chest is going to cave in at every small wrong move and he doesn’t feel like crying every five seconds after his extensive cry sesh in the shower.
but eddie still isn’t there.
~*~
it’s been weeks since steve has seen eddie. steve’s not stupid. he’s aware that eddie’s actively avoiding him, despite the fact that steve has called the trailer multiple times trying to apologize. he’d left a confusingly vague message with wayne, one he’s sure had made no sense if it was even relayed to eddie at all. picking the kids up from hellfire at the wheelers is a newly torturous experience with the kids now waiting for him on the curb awkwardly instead of making steve wait an extra fifteen to twenty minutes on the wheeler’s gross plaid couch in their basement that perpetually smells like corn chips. everyone seems to be clearly aware that something is up. he’s sure he sees sympathy in mrs. wheeler’s eyes when she waves to him from their front door, thanking him for driving the kids home.
steve’s not exactly sure where it all went wrong. he knows now that he’d blindsided eddie; it was more than apparent now that eddie hadn’t even thought about what he was doing or how steve was feeling. steve spent hours thinking about eddie every day and it was clear now that that was not reciprocated. which is fine, he guesses, but he had thought he and eddie were friends first. they’d saved the world together after all. that tended to bond people forever, he’d assumed, just simply based on his relationships with robin and dustin and even nancy. he hadn’t really accounted for losing eddie completely. but steve was clearly fucking clueless when it came to eddie munson, so maybe he’d actually been wrong about everything all along.
he ping pongs back and forth between feelings of self-pity mixed with self flagellation and feelings of intense, white-hot anger at eddie. one minute, he’s sure this is all his fault, that he really is the dumbest person on planet earth and he definitely deserves to have people leave him constantly when he’s so fucking stupid all the time, can’t even keep his stupid fucking mouth shut and his stupid ugly feelings to himself for one time in his stupid fucking life. the next, he starts to blame eddie for what happened instead, blames him for not understanding steve at all. it’s eddie’s fault for not seeing what was right in front of his stupid fucking face. but after a couple of minutes of that, he’s back to being certain it really was his fault after all.
so after almost a month of no returned phone calls, no surprise visits at work just to say “hey” because eddie couldn’t sit around all day waiting for steve to get off his shift, no casual touches as they chat while eddie packs up his dnd gear, steve finally takes the massive fucking hint for what it is and stops calling. he begs jonathan to pick the kids up from hellfire, lying about a new shift schedule at work. he refuses to drive the kids anywhere that eddie might potentially be, even when the kids insist eddie really won’t be there. he’s trying so hard to convince himself that actually he’s the one avoiding eddie and not the other way around. he’s barely even hanging out with robin anymore, besides work. she seems to get that he needs time alone right now though. steve’s never been more grateful for a platonic soul mate.
but after this long, agonizing month of constantly rearranging his own life to help someone else avoid him, steve’s exhausted. he’s been having more nightmares than usual, ones where the people he loves all take turns dying in his arms. it’s a wednesday when he finally has the night off and he decides to treat himself with sixteen candles and a pizza. he orders his pie and fifteen minutes later he’s pulling his wallet from his pocket before answering the knock on the door.
“what do i owe you?” he asks after the door swings open. he’s got his eyes on his wallet in his hands, fingers moving over the bills folded together.
“oh, um,” a familiar voice stutters. steve’s eyes snap up. “i—“
steve feels like he can’t get any air for a minute. eddie’s just standing on his front step, staring.
steve’s throat feels dry. he has to swallow a few times before he can get any words out, but eddie beats him to it anyway.
“can we, uh. talk?” eddie looks nervous, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. steve steps out of the way, silently letting eddie pass him on his way into the house. the door swings shut and it’s the loudest sound steve’s ever heard in his life.
they stand in the small foyer with its huge ceilings and steve can feel the cold of the tiles through his thin socks. eddie makes no move to enter further into the house, so neither does he. steve shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence of his own home.
“i’m sorry,” steve says quietly, after a long stretch of silence that makes it clear eddie’s not actually about to speak. eddie’s eyes keep flitting around the small space, landing everywhere but steve’s face. eddie shrugs, looking over steve’s shoulder into the kitchen behind him.
“it’s not—“ eddie shakes his head, cutting himself off. steve wants desperately to hear how he’d finish that sentence. almost as desperately as he doesn’t.
“i ruined it.” steve runs his hand through his hair. “i tried calling the trailer… to apologize. left a couple messages with wayne but.” he shrugs.
eddie grunts. steve wishes he knew how to make this better. he can’t tell if the grunt means eddie got his messages or not. he’d thought he was good at deciphering eddie’s noises by now.
“look,” steve says, finally frustrated with the whole thing. “we were kind of friends before we started… hooking up or whatever. i get that you wanted something casual and that i ruined it. i get that i fucked it up and i made you uncomfortable and—i just get it, okay? you didn’t do anything wrong. you were always honest. i was just seeing what i wanted to see and i let myself believe something that wasn’t real. so. i would really like for us to be friends again. i hate this, eddie. it really sucks. i don’t like not seeing you around. i just—this sucks.”
eddie nods, swallowing thickly, but he doesn’t really seem like he’s hearing steve.
“yeah,” eddie finally agrees. “this sucks.”
steve gets the sense that eddie means more than just this whole dumb thing between them, but he’s trying not to be in the business of making assumptions about what eddie means anymore.
“i have a pizza coming,” steve sighs. “if you want to stay?” he can’t help but feel hopeful and he knows this is too much, to invite eddie to stay when they haven’t even really made up yet, but he doesn’t know how to fix this. he’s never been good at this.
eddie glances into the living room and steve’s not entirely sure what he sees or what he imagines, but he watches as eddie swallows again, eyes darting quickly to steve’s face, just once, before he gives his head a small shake. “no, i don’t—i should go. but we’ll see each other, okay, harrington?” and he says it like a question but steve thinks he knows it’s not really a question at all. steve will see eddie any time, anywhere, whenever eddie asks.
steve tries to smile before shuffling toward the door and watching eddie go.
~*~
it’s another ten minutes before his pizza even gets there and when it does, steve’s feeling even more sorry for himself than he has in the last month since he’d asked eddie out. he makes it halfway through the movie and the pizza before he starts to consider calling robin. it’s been a while since they’ve just hung out and that’s been entirely steve’s fault. she hasn’t said anything because she knows steve inside and out, but steve is really missing her right now.
he’s just about ready to pull on his shoes and pick up the phone to tell robin he’s on his way to get her when there’s a knock at the door. half of him is confused, the other half is convinced it must be robin, having sensed his desire for her company. he stands and makes his way to the door, a half smile on his face as he swings it open for the third time tonight.
“look, what happened before is not why i came here, so wait and just let me talk and then you can say whatever you want but if you don’t let me just get this out, i’m never going to say it and i… you deserve to hear it so i need to say it, for real, right now,” eddie’s practically panting as he pushes past steve.
“um okay,” steve tries to get out but eddie glares at him.
“shut up, shut up for real, okay.” eddie crouches down in the foyer of steve’s house, his head in his hands between his knees. his voice comes out a little muffled, but steve can still hear him pretty clearly. “you didn’t ruin anything. you didn’t. really. i ruined it. i ruined a really good thing.”
steve feels like his chest is being hollowed out but he bites his lip, desperate not to interrupt.
eddie groans and steve can see his fingers tense and release in his own hair. “you were so sweet, on the couch. the last time.” he says it like steve could’ve forgotten and steve feels a blush rise on his cheeks. “you… you looked so soft and gooey and hopeful and i—i fucked it up. because back when this whole thing started, it seemed like a miracle that you’d even look at me. like. you’re… you and i’m just me. what the fuck.” eddie laughs almost hysterically. steve feels his fingernails cutting into his own palms with how hard he’s trying to stay still and silent. eddie still hasn’t looked up from where he’s holding himself tight. “and it kept happening and happening and happening and i—i’ve never… i’ve never.”
“oh,” steve can’t help but breathe out in surprise.
eddie shakes his head a little, seems to forget himself and look up and then he’s just staring at steve’s face. he swallows again and steve can see his hands shake. “no, i mean, i’ve… but never… more than once. never all the time.” now that eddie’s looked steve in the eyes, he can’t seem to look away. his eyes look so huge and glassy from where he looks up at steve from his place on the floor. steve feels his heart clench. his fingertips ache. “never like that.” steve nods. “and then you didn’t leave. you didn’t run or pretend it didn’t happen. and you let me pretend it was something it wasn’t, like we weren’t… like it wasn’t… important.” steve’s brows furrow in confusion. “because i was lying. obviously. of course i was. it wasn’t casual. you’d never be casual. not for me.”
“i don’t—“ steve suddenly can’t breathe.
“wait. please.” eddie’s eyes go soft around the edges. “i fucked it up, stevie, because i was lying the whole time. and i thought you were just letting me lie because… i don’t know. i don’t know why, because i know it wasn’t casual for you either. it was all over you. and that was really, really scary.” steve falls to his knees on the foyer tiles, vaguely aware of the dull ache, before sliding closer to where eddie is crouched. he whimpers, just a little, when eddie holds out his palm, presses it to the center of steve’s chest to keep him from getting too close. “hold on, baby, i just. i have to say it, please. gimme a second, i’m just…” eddie gives his head another small shake, as if he’s trying to clear it. “i’m sorry, i guess, is what it really all comes down to. i’m sorry i let you think you weren’t important. i only realized you didn’t know that night on the couch and i… i guess i saw some plausible deniability. a way to walk away without getting, like, totally annihilated. and that’s, you know. my whole issue.” eddie swallows again, hand fisting into the fabric of steve’s shirt. “i was scared. i ran. because… because i love you, stevie. i was falling in love with you this whole time and trying to act like i wasn’t. because i was an idiot. and i couldn’t be the one to break first. but what a stupid, fucked up way to think about it, huh? i love you, man, and you deserve to hear it and feel it and have it, is really what i’m trying to say. i just love you.”
somewhere in all of that, eddie had used his grip on steve’s shirt to pull him in closer so their noses are practically touching. steve can feel the prickle of tears in his own eyes, can feel eddie’s breath on his lips.
“you love me?” even steve can hear how incredulous his own voice sounds.
eddie huffs out a laugh and steve can feel it on his skin. “yeah, dude. of course i do. how could i not?”
“dude,” steve repeats, cause like… really?
“is that all you have to say?” eddie slides his nose along steve’s, nuzzling, skin warm. steve’s eyelids go heavy.
“you left me hanging for, like, a month, bro,” steve tries to joke, but his voice sounds too breathless.
“yeah,” eddie murmurs. “i’m so sorry, baby. can i kiss you?”
and all steve can do is nod.
~*~
the next morning, steve wakes up to soft sunlight filtering in through the blinds he forgot to close last night. he feels hazy, all syrupy and warm, before he bolts upright in his bed. or tries to. because just as he’s moving, he notices the heavy presence on his right arm.
“too early,” eddie groans, shuffling naked under the covers. “turn it off.”
“turn what off? the sun?” steve smiles as he turns to spoon his equally naked body behind eddie. he drops a kiss to eddie’s bare shoulder.
“mmhmm,” eddie hums, and steve can hear the smile in it.
“hey,” steve says, before they both fall back into sleep for a few more minutes. “i love you, too, by the way.”
“oh yeah, by the way?” eddie snorts.
“better than ‘i love you, dude.’”
“oh, you think so?” eddie shifts in steve’s arms until he’s somehow gotten on top of steve, holding steve’s wrists above his head. steve can’t help but thrust his hips upwards in eddie’s direction. “yeah, okay,” eddie concedes, breathless, grinding his own hips downward. “you’re right. whatever you say, beautiful. can’t argue with that. super compelling argument.”
steve has to kiss him just to shut him up.
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aures-fantasy-nook · 9 months
Text
Hobbit/LOTR characters when their s/o is upset with them
yes i'm reusing this trope and i dont care its easy-- also lmk if u want more characters and which onessss :3
requests are open (seriously please give me ideas)
Thorin
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honestly
his reaction is so dependant on when you're upset with him
if its during the journey he will notice right away
he refuses to go to bed angry at each other
he makes time for you guys to talk every night
if its during his dragon sickness bit
yeah
no
he doesn't give a single shit
telling him that you're upset doesn't even do anything except make him mad
like you're wasting his time
AND
not looking for the stone so like
what the fuck are you doing
if we're talking like after the war
everybody lives au ofc
it probably takes him a little while to notice that you're upset if you don't flat out say anything
he's just slightly busy rebuilding a kingdom
honestly when he does notice or when you tell him
he feels bad
he decides it's time for a break
even if it's just for an hour or two
will take you through the halls just to talk through things
or he'll sit and have tea with you
honestly whatever you wanna do he's down
you are his only priority
if only for an hour
Fili
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i would say that he's probably pretty in tune with your emotions
hes a sweet dwarf
will make you tea because he knows your upset
sometimes forgets that hes a little shit
like doesnt realise that things he does can make people upset
let alone you
right over his head
you will have to sit him down and talk with him
he will feel bad immediately
will apologize
offers to make it up to you in any way he can
I feel like if this happens after like the battle and the reclaiming of his future kingdom
he might be a bit busy
but he wants to sit and talk to you every night before bed
even if its just for a few minutes
so when you went to bed without him one night
oh he knows he messed up
theres no way to misinterpret that
will wake you up with kisses and apologies
even if he doesn't know what he is apologizing for
hes just a big sweetie
Kili
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sweet boy
another kind of clueless one
id assume that you probably get upset at him sometime during the journey
while yes he is sweet
he can be kind of neglectful without meaning to be
he feels like he has to prove himself to his uncle because he is different from the other dwarves.
has a lot on his mind
i feel like he deffo neglects your relationship at times bc of it
which is why you pulled back
not pushing for affection as much as you did before
letting him get himself into bad situations
reminding him to eat/sharpen his sword
setting up his bedroll while he goes off to help with camp set up
it takes him a couple days to realize something is off
bc he totally doesnt realize how much you're actually looking out for him
it hits him one night after dinner that his bed roll isnt set up? and its not next to you? and you're already asleep?
wait when did he actually sit down and talk to you last?
doesn't sleep that night, just sits and watches you while thinking back on the past like week
as soon as you wake up he's by your side and asking if you guys could take a walk before the journey starts for that day
you agree
he immediately starts apologizing and explaining himself
i think the best way to deal with it is to like
have a nice sit down and talk it out
maybe not right at that moment but
eventually you guys have a long talk where you both talk about how you're feeling with the relationship and just emotionally and i think that solves a lot
like he lets u know just how insecure he is bc of how different he is
and you can talk about feeling neglected
at the end of it all he promises to put more effort but also wants you to know that you dont HAVE to do all those things for him to notice you/love you
very healthy tbh
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avocado-writing · 23 days
Note
Recently started play BG3, only on act 2 right now lol. I found your blog because this shit is my current hyper fixation and I love your writing. I was wondering if you could write how the BG3 cast would react to Tav haveing hanahaki disease.
Love you're writing!
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Astarion
Oh, when he notices, he feels an odd lurch in his chest.
You’re in love with someone? Who? It had better be him, he’s put effort into seducing you.
When he works out that he’s the object of your desire he’s over the moon! And then… ah. But it is a disease after all.
A lot of intense emotions flow through him. Of course he loves you, he’d be a fool not to. But can he admit that to you? Open his heart enough to let you in?
He sees you hacking up blood red roses and thinks, gods, if a few simple words are all this will take to solve it, why wouldn’t he?
He sits down next to you as you wipe your mouth, all awkward angles and longing gazes. Not his usual suave self at all. You go to ask him what’s wrong, and he blurts out that he loves you like he’s under duress.
You blink, amazed if slightly mortified by his tone, but then your lips curl into a smile. When you kiss him your mouth tastes of rosewater. Never does another petal pass your lips, and never does Astarion regret his confession.
Gale
When he sees you bringing up Sussur petals, he panics. It’s affecting your magic after all. Slowing your spells and causing lethargy in your casting.
He throws himself into research. Night and day he’s in his books looking for a cure. He rarely sleeps any more. Not until he comes up with a solution for you.
You’re getting worse and he’s being driven mad by it. If he could find out who you love he could help, but he simply has no idea…
Silly wizard has no idea the solution is right under his nose. Always has been. Because of course he loves you too, wants nothing more than to hold you and have you as his.
It takes the rest of the camp pointing it out to him before he realises, and doesn’t know how he could be so dense… but he knows he’s the luckiest man in the world if you love him.
He confesses in the middle of your coughing fit. The petals stop immediately. He would seal the look of adoration you give him into his heart forever.
No more Sussur. No more problems. Just joy.
Wyll
He’s seen this a dozen times in his youth. Time and time again people have perished from their courtly love in a flurry of flowers.
When he sees it happening with you? Oh, he knows immediately what is happening.
Doesn’t believe you’d be in love with him… but then he sees the loving looks you give him, the softness in your eyes. It clicks into place rather quickly.
And when he realises, you best bet he’s making a move to cure you.
An immediate embrace. A kiss where he tastes the petals on your lips. Your eyes are wide, but your throat is clear.
“I love you,” he states, no hesitations, just facts. There will be time for great romance later, but right now he just needs to make sure you’re safe.
When he’s certain your condition is cleared, no more coughing, he embraces you long and lovingly. Tells you what you mean to him. And when you plan your wedding… there will be no flowers.
Karlach
Panics when she finds you coughing petals. She might have been in Avernus for the past decade, but she knows hanahaki when she sees it.
Corners you one night and begs you to tell her who you’ve fallen for. She’ll help you confess!! After all, how could anyone not feel the same about you? Anything is better than this, this purgatory of petals where love is being kept secret.
Your smile is wobbly when you tell her there might be a time span on this person’s love. She thinks, oh, Gale? Because of the orb?
It takes a moment for things to fall into place. The way you look at her. Like she hung the stars.
“Oh, fuck. It’s me isn’t it?”
You go to leave, she grabs you and holds you back. Pulls you into a kiss. Only stops to tell you that she loves you. Goes right back to kissing.
It’s then she decides not to die. To find a way to live with you, even if it means returning to hell. How could she abandon you, when you love her so much?
Lae’zel
She is so utterly confused when you start hacking up petals. Is it a disease? Some sign of weakness? It is certainly nothing that a gith has ever experienced, nor would fall foul of. They are too strong.
Lae’zel mocks you at first, like she mocks everything, but it’s in order to hide how much seeing you suffer hurts her. She is a fool to have affections for someone so weak.
… isn’t she?
One night she corners Gale (quite intimidatingly) and gets him to inform her of your condition. He tells her all about hanahaki, and she says she must find out who you are in love with and get them to return your affections.
Gale blinks. “Lae’zel… it’s you.”
Oh.
It takes her a moment to digest this. She leaves Gale abruptly (“goodbye then?”), finds you, and drags you to privacy.
“I have been told to cure your disease you need a confession of love. This is my confession.”
The petals do not stop as you cough. With a small smile, a little smug, you tell her she has to be more specific. She huffs and you laugh.
She tells you she loves you in every language she knows. It works.
Shadowheart
The most perceptive of the bunch, Shadowheart knows you are in love with her from the moment you cough up Night Orchid petals.
It’s not subtle that you’re sweet on her. But she doesn’t say anything in return - she’s a sharran, after all, and doesn’t know how you fit with her future of being a dark justiciar.
And then… she finds selûne, and it changes. All of it. Especially her view of you. She can open her heart without fear now and she wants to welcome you in it.
She takes you aside one night. Sets up dinner. A bottle of the wine you shared on that first night by the cliff. Takes your hand and tells you she loves you, as easily as if she’s commenting on the weather.
You stop coughing. The petals cease. Your face lights up. She knows she wouldn’t change this for the world.
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yuri-is-online · 7 months
Note
I feel like Octavinelle would all respond pretty well to you being lonely tbh
Azul: Bullied, lonely child? Only two friends made because he was "fun" enough and felt at risk of losing them? If you talk about being lonely he MIGHT bring up a contract, but I could also see your honesty being met by the most clumsy olive branch of him stammering that HE could be your friend... since hes so generous, of course (liar he wants a friend too)
Floyd: What?! That's no fun! Being lonely almost as bad as being bored! He kind of thrives on attention/entertainment so I feel like his solution is just to drag you wherever he goes. YOU have to be the one to say that no, you have to go to your own class not his.
Jade: While I do think he would be most manipulative if you told him you're lonely, I think it would be tame - akin to "hey eat this weird mushroom" or dragging you on a hike you are NOT experienced enough for as his "requirements" for companionship. He wouldn't stop hanging out if you refused, he really just likes seeing your reactions. I also don't think he'd ever kick you out of a room he's in, and he'd do his own thing while you do yours
I'm so glad you sent this because I was just thinking while I was settling to sleep that I had a lot more to say but was worried a separate post might be too much.
All Three
If there is one thing Twisted Wonderland does really well it's acknowledging the inhuman aspects of its characters. Malleus has so much magic he fails to solve problems without it, Ruggie has really sensitive hearing, Leona talks about smell a lot etc.
Point being the trio has a bunch of things they find weird about life on land. They're not really going to make fun of Yuu for feeling out of place. Assuming they don't trip and fall a whole bunch, that's just too easy.
They're technically new up here too yeah? Let them show you the ropes.
Azul
He's surprisingly soft with Yuu during events. Especially if you pick dialogue options that show intelligence or planning.
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^ this happens if you get why he's selling salad cups I think?
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^ and this one is if you assume you'll be using the bell of salvation to destroy the flowers
My one amendment to your idea is that I don't think he'd be shy about it at all. He'd be putting forward a show of confidence because of how he was slighted in the past. He would think your friendship was the most natural conclusion in the whole world.
Your smart. He's smarter. Together you could make some real magic! And maybe play some board games. He could use some time to relax.
Floyd
Completely right. I already talked a lot about him in my original answer, but I do think he enjoys hanging out with Yuu when he's in the mood to be social.
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He's got all of that extrovert energy Idia's so afraid of, and if you start indulging him, you won't get to stop. I think he'd be really happy to have someone go along with what it is he wants to do no matter how outlandish it gets. Even better if you look like you're having fun!
I could see him say that you "owe him" for hanging out with you when he wants some of your food though.
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Jade
Oh? You're lonely? What a shame. How horrible. Terrible really.
That must mean you'll have no problem signing up for his club right? Because that's very much what I could see him doing. He really wants another member to order arou- I mean enjoy the mountains with.
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^ If you tell Epel you will be "Here for whatever [the team] needs." When he asks you to help run the Pit Stop, Jade immediately decides this means you will commit a crime for him. Which to be fair-
I would object to the bit about taking you on a hike you're unqualified for though. He tells you not to try climbing Mount Moln until you've done an easier one first.
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Obviously I agree about the sketchy mushrooms. If he's brave enough to walk into the Culinary Crucible with them, what's Ramshackle?
Him coming to the Ramshackle guest room to sit quietly while you both do your own thing is something he'd really enjoy. You make much more interesting faces when he gives you a break from his teasing.
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likedovesinthewindd · 11 months
Note
Need some hobie x reader, well I'll help you solve that problem.
May I request hobie x spider reader but she's a pink spider with a little bit of a bimbo in her. Her and hobie are fighting an enemy something happens and hobie has to save her. When he does she looks at him and goes "my hero" all lovey dovey. Then of course hobie has to respond with how he's not a hero but during his rant reader kisses him. Hope you like ❤️ might send a few more if you don't mind
hobie w his pink gf is gonna do it for me every time. also this isn't really in fic format i hope you don't mind!
hobie brown x fem!reader
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✮ you joined the society around the same time hobie did, and right off the bat the two of you hit it off. you quickly became close friends, even though you were complete opposites.
✮ you shamelessly spent a lot of time on your appearance. you were a spider-person after all, so if people's eyes were gonne be on you, you might as well make it worth their while. you had a pretty pink suit, the most beautiful pink design with big chrome covered eyes and finished with finger holes so everyone could see your pretty nails.
✮ hobie would always make fun of it too. he'd grown to calling you names like malibu barbie, because there wasn't a day you weren't wearing pink.
✮ so fast forward a bit the two of you are on a mission to go and capture an anomaly, and things went south fast. it gets a knock or two in with you, and before you know it you're being knocked into a wall, hard. your head is throbbing almost instantly, and your vision's blurry. you could see the anomaly get ready to get another knock in, but just before he manages to hit you, hobie's effectively stopping him. it's the last thing you remember before you close your eyes and fall unconscious.
✮ the next thing yk you're waking up in one of the cold medical facilities at HQ, with one hell of a headache. jess is one of the first people you see, and the first thing you ask her is where hobie is. she tells you that he's at the canteen, that he's been here since you've been bought in.
"Sleeping beauty wakes, everyone," Hobie says to no one in particular as he makes his way into the small room, standing next to the bed. "You alright?" he adds, voice more serious and concerned. "I'm fine," you say. "Although my head is killing me," you added, looking down at your lap, and a whine escapes your mouth when you look down at your hands.
"What?" he asked and you shove your hand in his face. He takes your hand in his, assessing it with a frown. "What?" he asks again. "My nail!" you squeal and he laughs in reply. "Could've been worse, Barbie," he says and you roll your eyes at the nickname. Then an idea hits you; something you know will piss him off.
You squeeze his hand, giving him a smile as sweet and sultry as you could muster up. "Could've been worse, yes," you start, "but atleast you were there to protect me. My hero." And at once you could see the frown forming on his face.
"I'm not a hero," he starts, and you have to stop yourself from laughing. "Because calling yourself a hero makes yourself a self-mythologizing narcissistic..."
And as he's rambling on you notice how he's still squeezing onto your hand, so you flip it over so that the back of his hand is on top and place a small kiss onto the skin. The action stops him in the middle of his spieël and he gives you a suprised look. "Why'd you do that," he asked quietly and you shrug. You usher him closer, and he does so wordlessly.
When he's close enough, you place a big fat kiss right on the apple of his cheek, making a smack sound as you pulled away. At once the lanky man changes to a bright pink hue all over and you smile at the irony of it all. "You're pinker than me, bee," you say with a laugh, and he only gives you an irritated hum, although you know he could never ever stay mad at you.
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a/n: don't really like this might rewrite it later.
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yandere-sins · 11 months
Text
The Orcas’ Tale - Epilogue
Aye, that's the end of Nerrocan's story! I am happy and sad at the same time, I hope this last chapter from his pov will give you guys some of the answers you hoped for, and maybe create more questions that will be solved in the two sidestories with Lyr and Krill! Thank you all for participating in reaching this True End and I hope you guys had fun guessing (even though you always guessed right after the first chapter!) Thank you for all the support and encouragement sent my way throughout the story, and I hope you guys enjoy the last chapter ♥
Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Orca Mermen x GN!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Nerrocan being a bit horny in his thoughts but nothing actually happens, still lots of sex mentions), Violence (Threats, Description of killing others), Monsters, Blood mention, Gun mention, Dub-con touches/kisses, Animalistic behavior, Mention of claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death, Long post
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Mate.
That's the word the humans of this place told me when I asked them about this strange, burning feeling in my chest whenever I looked at you. Bubbles rose from my mouth as I kept saying it over and over, letting the sound of the word roll from my tongue, sweet and exhilarating as it mixed with the images of you I created in my head. Images of you smiling, laughing, sleeping on top of my chest. Your hands wandering, lips kissing, your body beneath mine. Even the dread of being captured, caught in a pool that could never compare to the vastness of the ocean, was no concern of mine when I thought of you, the pain in my body turning into your sweet and soft caresses with my imagination.
In a pod like the one I grew up in, the thought of two merfolks creating their own separate life was not one that was ever considered. Males returned from their breeding spree with other pods, back to theirs, their family, their place of belonging. We'd raise the children of our females, our family staying tight-knit and closed off to outsiders. A male would never bring back a partner to integrate and be the only one they loved. The only one they'd ever desire. It was selfish and wrong and brought risks to the pod, who could get sick or attacked because of the actions of one of their sons and brothers.
But the humans told me it was quite normal for my kind. Not the orcas, the mermaids. Sirens, that's what the humans called us, but they mixed up the description with mermaid ever so often. For fun? For practical uses? I didn't know. I didn't care. I didn't bring you back here, so I'd have to wreck my head around all the weird things you did. I carried you here because I remembered. Remembered others like me—sharks, whales, seals. So many of them, and all of them… happy. Content being held in these large but closed-off bodies of water, attended to by one of the humans in their slick garments and coats. Not at all bothered by the probing, painful experiments done to them as long as they got to rest in the arms of their mates. 
I still didn't understand it. But when I thought of you and called you my mate, knowing you were sitting just an arm's length from the edge of my pool, it was more freeing than escaping this facility back when my cousins and I had been captured. It felt right. Natural. It made no sense, but it made everything make sense. And I liked how it felt. I liked how you made me feel. I didn't care much about anything else, neither my past nor my future here, as long as you were with me.
At first, I had been hesitant around you, remembering the pain humans caused us, binding us and forcing us to sleep while they cut us open and injected weird poison into our bodies. I couldn't understand why my pod mates were so inclined to be around you, considering what the humans did to us, but now, it was almost as if I had forgotten their faces already, their actions of no concern to me.
Now I had you.
Swimming up to the edge of the pool, I reached out to you, my hand so easily fitting around your 'ankle'. Your lips quirked into a grin as you continued writing your report, and I slipped my finger below this strange yet comforting tight fabric you wore, tracing my claw along your 'calf'. You taught me all these words, and I didn't want to miss even one of them. I soaked up every vibration of your voice as if it was the calling whistles of my family, wishing to drown in the sounds you gifted me. After all this time, your 'wetsuit' became the most comforting feeling to me, but your skin's warmth was what excited me the most. You were alive; you were safe. I protected you. It's been all I ever wanted.
"When will you finish?" I asked, innocently enough as I found. Once I returned you to this place, you learned not to be so skittish around me, like a little fish hiding between corals whenever I approached you. I always knew I was stronger than you. You were prey where I was the hunter. You were no match to me, had no claws, no fangs, no poison to hurt me. But only when we spent more time out in the ocean and here, did I realize just how scary I was to you. Monstrous, even. You never said it out loud, but the silence whenever I hurt you accidentally while the humans experimented on me was more painful than any of your words could ever be. So I tried to be less like myself and more like you wanted me to be, even if that meant putting my wants and needs beneath yours. It had paid off, no matter the difficulty. 
You told me you didn't want to be interrupted while you did your studies, spending more hours leaning over your 'clipboard' than you did in the water with me. I wanted nothing more than to float through my tank with you; cared for nothing but you excitedly telling me about your finds and the strange food you had at the 'cafeteria' that day. Naturally, yours won over my wants, but being so close yet so far away from you was hard. If not for your skin getting 'pruney' and your body being so unsuitable to the water I needed, I'd have kept you in my arms all day—where you belonged.
"I'm almost done."
Almost. I hated that word. I wanted you now. In my arms, kissing the air into your lungs while I pinned you to the sandy floor of this pool. I learned a lot about myself after coming here, and one thing was: I wasn't a very patient male. Even when I needed to be, to make you, my mate, like me more, I couldn't banish these thoughts I had about you. They were partially influenced by my needs and wants, partly by the other humans who told me those cravings were natural. I needed to have you close, breathe your air, hear your voice, taste your lips to survive all of this. I wanted to be around you all the time, barely able to rest whenever you hid from me in your little 'cabin' next to my pool, closing the door that I didn't fit through and kept me outside. But I was wiser now than when I first had been captured. I knew I could make demands when I complied with the things these other humans wanted to do to me. They'd build me a home like the underwater cave, where I could live with you, nothing separating us and you having to rely on me to get in and out from. It would be our cave. A love nest. 
Letting myself slide back in the water, I pondered the wonders I'd been promised, my cock aching with need when I thought about making a family with you. Where I came from, there was no such thing as nesting and spending uninterrupted time mating with a partner. The thought of being tangled with you in our cave, covering you in my marks as you accepted my cock inside your warmth, was nothing short of breathing life back into me and testing my patience at the same time. We had yet to introduce the idea to you, but the other humans told me they'd make sure you'd finally accept the mate bond once they talked to you. So far, you called yourself my 'caretaker', and while I didn't dislike how it proclaimed me as yours, I wished you'd finally accept me as your mate like I had you. After all, it was me who was taking care of you—like I promised. 
I said I'd protect you, and though the experiments on my body hurt, I'd be happy as long as I got to be with you in return. And be with you I did, especially now that you put the clipboard away, your attention shifting to me. 
Immediately, I pushed out of the water and onto the metal grids spreading over parts of my tank so the humans could walk comfortably over my pool. You smiled softly as you scooted closer to the edge—closer to me—smelling like the sterile 'alcohol' everyone seemed to apply to their skin, but also of me, which I ensured by rubbing myself against you every chance I got. In the big ocean, you wouldn't notice the scent mark of another creature. You'd bite and carve your possession in clear view for others. But here, with everyone having a mate, the scentings were loud and clear. I, too, couldn't let any other creature here be mistaken about who you belonged to, even though they were all equally busy marking their own mates in the same way. 
I let you cup my face in your tiny hands, palms so small they could barely hold my cheeks, but it didn't repulse me. Unless I kept you in the water with me, your hands were warm and soft, your heartbeat pulsing so vigorously just below your thumb. Your touch could make anything better, be it the anxiety of being apart from you or the prodding needles and knifes cutting into me. As long as you were with me, there was nothing I couldn't endure. I just knew it. I knew it from the moment I tore the sharks limb from limb for daring to threaten you, ripping their hearts out for having the audacity to touch what was mine.
Wrapping my arms around your body, you chuckled as I drew you close, burying my head into your stomach and chest. Your heartbeat was my favorite sound, but the giggles almost sounded like purrs when I pressed my ear to your body. The differences between us were great, but I still found similarities if only I was given the time to look for them. I still didn't trust the humans and didn't have to like them. But I trusted you, and I did what I had to do to be with you. 
"Are you done now?" I mumbled, your hand combing through my hair while I nuzzled into you. You often brushed your hands through the strands, watched them float in the water, and played with them. It gave me a great feeling of satisfaction knowing you liked my hair. Liked me. We were simply meant for each other, considering how much I liked you too. 
"I am. Thank you for waiting," you confirmed, patting my head. My heart leapt at the gesture, so starved from only being allowed to watch you. I tightened my arms around you, ready to pull you into my tank and considering not letting you leave tonight. But before I could take you for a swim, your fingers clawed into my upper arms, and the dreadful screeching of the metal door leading out of my territory forced me to halt. 
"Professor!" you greeted the person entering our space uninvited, rudely interrupting my already limited time with you. I couldn't help but snarl at the man in the white coat, the very same one that had threatened you with death the first time you met him, the thought making me bare my teeth at him. I didn't have to like anyone of the other humans, but there was nothing to like about him in the first place for any of us. 
Anguish spread through me as you slipped out of my hold, getting to your 'feet' to greet the Professor. Disgruntled and shunned by you, I sank back into the water, watching the unnecessary closeness you two had developed over the last few weeks. Water splashed between your sets of feet as I couldn't help but thrash my tail, reminding the Professor to stay away from my mate. But it only caused you to whip around, hissing, "Nerrocan!" to remind me of my 'manners'. I knew he didn't fear me, and I knew I could easily kill him. But for the humans, he was in a position like Krill's mother had been to me. A leader. Someone they followed and trusted with decisions. Compared to my 'aunt', however, this male deserved none of my trust and loyalty. He neither earned it nor was I inclined to trust anything he said. He was faker than the sand at the bottom of the ocean.
"I've come to collect the research data from the last round of testing. Do you happen to have it on hand already?" he asked you, ignoring me and my attempts to signal him to stay away completely. Annoyed, bordering on mad, I had to watch as you retrieved your clipboard, humming thoughtfully as you went through the papers sticking to it before shaking your head. 
"I had them here somewhere, I swear! I must have accidentally left them in my room. Please wait a moment, I'll go and get them for you!"
With that, you quickly moved away, opening the door to your cabin and disappearing behind it. I was tempted to swim after you, already pushing my body in the direction of where you went and further into the pool, when the male called out to me.
"So, how are you finding your life here, Nerrocan?"
I could feel the growl building in my chest as he used my name so freely to annoy me. I'd have preferred it had he not addressed me at all, considering I was not up to chitchatting with anyone else but you—especially not with him.
"I take it you've gotten used to this place then," he monologued, looking up from your clipboard after reading your report. "We are delighted to have you, you know? Orcas have been eluding us for a long time, and the samples we've gotten from you have proven very successful for our research. I just wish we had another one here... You don't think one of your friends might want to join us?"
"They won't come," I snapped back instantly, already feeling like biting the Professor's throat out after this brief exchange. Human speech was hard enough to understand, but even I could tell his words were embellished attacks. He was nothing but greedy and had wanted me to spill the location of my pod from the very beginning. Whenever they did something to my body and my mind was hazy and unfocused, he'd take advantage and ask about the others and where to find them. Apparently, their 'trackers' were too old or broken to find my pod, but I wouldn't tell him their whereabouts, even though he was just as impatient as me. 
And no one would come, that much I was sure of.
I only realized it after coming back to this facility, but the others didn't remember. Not like I did, at least. What happened to their bodies either forced them to forget about this place and the way back here, or they were trying to forget to stay sane—at least Krill. Lyr had definitely changed after what they did to him. It had been a slow shift at first, his changes barely apparent. But as of late, something in him just… snapped. I didn't know the reason, but he seemed out of his mind most days without him even noticing. But I was pretty sure it was because of one of the experiments. And Krill seemed to pretend everything was fine for a while. We got away, and, once we returned to the pod, 'nothing happened'. But he must have realized it too that the three of us were clearly not the same anymore. That none of us could participate in the normal life in the pod, we were forced into again after our experience. 
But at least that meant they wouldn't come here. They wouldn't have to suffer again like I did.
The Professor's eyes narrowed, his expression telling despite him thinking he was unreadable. In reality, he hated being challenged. He didn't want to be questioned; he didn't want anyone to defy him. He was weak. A weak human male that could not deal with not being the most powerful in the room. And none of our kind—be it shark, seal, orca—had proven that point to him yet if only for the sake of their mates.
"You know, I'm surprised you brought your mate here," he suddenly said, his features sharpening after not getting the information he wanted from me. "There would have been a public beach just further north from here, barely half a day of swimming. Undoubtedly, you knew that?"
There it was again, an attack hidden beneath innocent questions. But this time, I couldn't help but dip lower into the pool, hide in the safety of my water, and consider leaving him standing there by himself. Then again, I couldn't trust him with you. You'd return any second now, and he had one of these 'guns' under his coat that could hurt you if I wasn't present to intervene. So I kept watching him, suspicious of his every move. 
"It's like…" he mused, bringing one hand to his face and tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Almost like you wanted to trap them here. After all, we wouldn't have let you and your friends go either had you not put up a fight and slipped from us. Perhaps you thought your mate wouldn't be able to leave you if you brought them here. That they'd need you like you need them, could that be it? You did it all while knowing they'd be imprisoned here with you and become unhappy, didn't you?"
A hideous, fake smile crossed his features, and it was almost enough to make me leap for him and tear his head from his shoulders. How dare he made such assumptions?! I'd have found great pleasure in crushing his skull and tearing that grin apart. "What do you know?" I hissed instead, baring my teeth. 
Humans didn't feel the mate bond. That's the first painful thing I learned here. A human male would never understand the suffocating feeling of being apart from his mate. He wouldn't know the fear and panic of letting them get out of your reach and how much any type of your mate's rejection hurt. How your mate's pain is your pain, just ten times as bad. On land, it would have only been a matter of time until I could no longer follow you. As big as the ocean was, the land reached far and wide, and it was I who was no longer suitable when it came to traverse it. He talked about your unhappiness, but you were allowed to study lifeforms you found interesting. You were protected by me and could pursue your interest without leaving me behind. Not being allowed to leave this place was the small price you had to pay in all of this. Smaller than what I had to endure for you. 
I did what you wanted. I brought you here as you asked me to. Back then, I didn't know how much my life had changed with you in it, but when they talked about having to kill you after we entered this place, there was no question about whether I'd protect you or not. And keeping you here with me was the only way to keep you safe. By staying here with you, I was keeping you alive, no matter what they did to me. Who cared if I remembered how these humans didn't want to let us sirens go the first time I ended up here? Remembered how many humans we had to kill and how many more of our kind we sacrificed to get out? This human male wouldn't understand, but I did. I sacrificed a lot to return here and stay with you, and I saw no fault in my decision to do what my mate wanted me to. 
"It's better this way. For both of us," I growled, and he let out a brief chuckle, amusement flashing over his features. 
"If that's what you want to believe," he said dismissively, his eyes crossing over the pool to the door to your cabin. Immediately, I felt the alert to his focus shifting, forcing me to swim over to that side so that, whatever may happen, I'd be the first to get to you. But to my surprise, the Professor raised his hands and shook his head dismissively of my worries. 
"I won't tell your mate what we just talked about. In fact, it's better they don't learn that their subject forced them into being imprisoned here despite knowing this would happen. They seem to enjoy their work, and they do it well enough. As long as you play nice and let us get our samples from you, we won't have a reason to come between you two. But you already know that, right?"
He was back to grinning like the mad human he was, taking pleasure in the suffering of others. I hated that he had once again attacked me with his words, defeating me in this fight. The Professor had explained to me before that he wouldn't want me to be unhappy and dissatisfied by taking my mate from me. But if I wanted to be with you, I had to do what they asked of me without harming anyone else. My actions may have 'imprisoned' you here, as the Professor liked to call it, but you weren't alone in this. In fact, I was sure we weren't the only ones in this kind of predicament. After all, there were countless other pairs stuck in this facility—willingly or unwillingly. 
"I got them!" your beautiful voice rang out as you exited your resting place. I tore away from the Professor, swimming over to you and chirping softly, gaining a smile from you. I'd never do anything to harm this lovely smile of yours. I wanted to keep it directed at me for all our lives. 
Even if that meant playing the Professor's games and agreeing to his deals.
You handed him a stack of papers before kneeling beside me, brushing over my head as I rose high enough on the platform to protect you. Your touch was soothing and reassuring, but I didn't let my eyes stray from the male beside you, hoping he'd finally leave us alone now that he had what he had come for. I wanted you for myself, but he was taking his time studying the results.
He only briefly glanced from the papers you gave him to me, a grin flashing behind his hand raised to his face in contemplation. It was an oath of silence, one I couldn't trust but had to be content with. I'd not get more than that from him. All he offered was forcing me to believe he'd keep his fake promises. If anyone was going to tell you, it should have been me, even if I felt undeserving of the accusation that I did something to harm you. But humans wouldn't understand. My mate wouldn't understand. So you certainly were better off never learning about this conversation. 
"All exceptional results! Thank you for your hard work!" he finally exclaimed. Immediately some of the tension stiffening your body vanished, and you let out your breath, smiling at him. 
"Any time, Professor!" 
After shaking his hand goodbye, the older male finally left for the door. But not without throwing me another glance and a knowing smile before vanishing behind the screeching metal. Immediately, I shifted my focus back to you, not wanting to spare a second of my time dreading this encounter as much as I did while it was happening. I had better things to do, more important ones. This time I'd let no one interrupt us.
"W-Wait, Nerrocan!" your words were stricken with infectious laughter, curling my lips into a grin as well. You couldn't even react to how fast I had picked you up by the waist and plunged you into the depths of my tank with me. Finding your lips even through all the bubbles we two caused, my gills flared, allowing your lungs to fill with my air as I slipped my tongue into your tiny, delicate mouth. Your taste was the sweetest poison on this planet, intoxicating and making me desperate for more. 
But your initial gentle hold on my shoulders turned rigid, being underwater still uncomfortable for you despite feeling so right for me. I already knew you had problems with prolonged stays beneath the surface after we traveled below it for days, and though I regretted leaving the only place that was truly safe to me, I did what was best for you, sliding my tail between your legs so you'd have a surface to sit on once we breached the water.
You inhaled sharply as you tore from my lips, coughing up some water that had slipped between us despite me making sure to lodge my tongue deeply where it belonged. Truth be told, I wanted more than this from you. I want to sink you to the bottom of the ocean where you'd have to cling to me for air, wrap your legs around me, and opened yourself up to my cock so I could breed you properly. Mate you, as they called it here. Claim and fill you with my seed until you were fully satiated with my spill. All while I'd get to drown in every kiss you gave and listen to your raised heartbeat every time I spread your hole with my cock. Then, you'd finally be mine, body and soul, unable to deny the mate bond any longer and give yourself to me completely until all my seed had been drained from my painfully aching cock. 
If only it were the right time for that. 
We'd need our love nest first and the other humans' talk, explaining why it was imperative you let me mate you. I needed the safety of a cover and to be left alone with you before I could bring myself to take you fully. Nowhere in this facility was safe, and I wouldn't allow you to be vulnerable to anyone else but me. I wanted to keep protecting you, even though I was considering abandoning all these precautions for my need to sink my burning desire into you, marking you beyond rubbing my scent off on you. I hated having to wait, but at least I still had my time with you. 
Holding you by the waist, I supported you, letting you regain your strength and focus. I listened to the moment you inhaled deeply and freely again, another beautiful sound, even if I liked you breathing the air from my lungs more. "Sorry…" I mumbled, not being sorry for putting you into the position you belonged. Trapped against me in a heated kiss, our bodies barely separated by the thin layer of fabric you wore. But I was sorry for you being so uncomfortable in the water, despite me being there, taking care of you. 
"All good," you mumbled, waving off my apology and smiling kindly at me instead. You had changed a lot, too, especially after spending so much time with me. I was thankful for every bit of understanding from you, bringing us closer together and forming the unity of our mate bond, even if you had yet to realize it. Floating through the pool with you on top of me was my favorite evening activity, the stars twinkling above us, despite only being visible at a few spots in the ceiling, through thick windows. Almost. It was almost like being outdoors with you again, free and alone, somewhere out in the ocean. 
"Do you miss being outside?" you suddenly asked, and my eyes fell back on you. You had gotten more comfortable on top of me, tugging in a leg of yours while the other drifted through the water next to my body. You had followed my gaze to the round glass windows above me, guessing what I must be thinking about. 
"Yes," I answered honestly, no need to hide the truth. Between staying here in this strange, imprisoning place with you and being back in the ocean with you, I'd have chosen the sea without a second thought. Both places were dangerous, and both had their sets of risks. But I was going to protect you either way, here or there. The only place we could not go together was the land you longed for—terribly so.
"Me too," you whispered after a brief silence, staring wistfully at the stars above. I slowed my movements, coming to a halt beneath such a window, allowing you not to twist your neck to see them better. "I wish we weren't stuck here. I wish you could be out there and be free, not having to go through these experiments that hurt you so much. But…”
"It's not possible," I finished the sentence for you as your voice trailed off. "Would you like me to break us out of here?"
You gave a short laugh, finally lowering your gaze back to me. Your eyes shone brighter than any star above could. Both the night sky and the water below us were things I loved, but they didn't compare to you, couldn't even scratch at your beauty. They only added to your charm but were never able to overtake it. If I had to choose between them and you, I'd still choose you. I'd always choose you.
"That's not something we should be thinking about, Nerrocan," you mumbled, your voice losing its usual loveliness, the sound turning sourly, the shine in your eyes dimming. You wanted to say "yes" badly; I could see that. Human language was difficult, but reading your kind less so. You often said things you didn't mean to please others, even me on occasion, instantly regretting your words despite trying to hide your feelings behind smiles. You and I both wanted to leave, but you thought it was too dangerous. You thought it was something even I couldn't handle, especially not alone. That you'd be a burden rather than my drive to fulfill your wish, and ultimately, I'd leave you behind to die. After all this time, you still thought so little of me.
I wanted your dreams to come true. I really did. 
But I held myself back despite that.
"It's not so bad here that we'd need to leave. We get good food every day and are safe from others. Besides, I get to hang out with you every day! It's not that bad, right?"
Your words made me happy, but they were conveniently woven lies. It was so easy to lie for you humans, be it for your own sake or others'. My kind would speak their mind without a second thought, but humans calculated their words carefully. Life here was awful, and you knew it. These people here did their horrible experiments on us sirens, sometimes lasting hours at a time, and their mates had to watch, some getting hurt in the action. As if that wasn't enough, they'd force the mates to write long reports and watch their broken, depressed, hurt sirens, forcing them to comply by actively involving them in the process. As the professor said, no one was allowed to leave, and the choice of where to go was limited to the places open to you and my tank for me. The people behind this place tried to hide how little they truly cared about us by making the pools more enjoyable for the sirens and their mates and making promises to provide and ensure the safety of the inhabitants of this place. I did trap you here, didn't I? 
Was I a selfish mate after all? Did I only bring you here for my own sake?
If so, what made me so different from the humans I despised?
"Yes," I lied. "Life here is not so bad."
I had you, at least. That's all that mattered to me. 
You smiled, but it seemed discouraged and sad. Perhaps because you knew I had imitated you with your lying. I was sure you wanted me to fight, to get us out of here and give you the freedom you desired. But the truth was that you didn't ask it of me, and I didn't want to let you go. Because our freedoms could never align with each other. Mine was in the ocean, and yours on land. Only here did we find a place where we could be together. Only here could I be with you forever, even if it meant we'd never be truly free. 
You leaned down, laying on my chest as you thought about all the thoughts you'd never let me hear. What you truly felt and wanted, but held yourself back, not wanting to be selfish or endanger us. Not knowing I was just as selfish as you were. 
I wrapped you in my arms, holding you and giving you all the comfort I could offer. If not this place, then at least I could be home to you. If you told me, I could be what you needed me to, and maybe one day, you would speak about what you wanted so I could act on them if they seemed right to me. But I could do all these things and more that would make you forget and free you of the burden that you put on yourself by being considerate and having to make decisions for us—right here. Just like I decided to come here and agree with the terms of the Professor in exchange for keeping you with me, I could do them for you. Once you made up your mind to agree to our mate bond, I'd make you forget all the bad thoughts you were having. The pain and despair. Instead, I'd drown you in pleasure and fulfillment as my mate. We'd both be finally content with where we were and not worry so much about the consequences of our decision. 
"I'm glad you're here at least," you mumbled, not allowing me to see your face. Read from it if you meant what you said or not. But regardless, it made my heart swell with affection for my little mate, my cock aching as it reminded me of my natural instincts. 
The day I'd make you completely mine couldn't come fast enough. You'd never be alone as I'd always be with you, my marks claiming you as mine, be it bite marks or spill dripping from your holes. You'd never have to face anything on your own again as I'd take care of you, protect you, and ensure no more suffering for you to endure like I had always promised. Whatever the future held for us, I'd get us through it, even if you didn't think me capable of it now. Once I mated you, you'd learn to have more confidence in me, seeing how well I can satisfy you. I just needed to prove myself to you again and again until you'd accept me completely.
"I am glad, too," I confessed, meaning it, hoping you could feel the sincerity in my voice.
Together, we drifted through the pool in circles for a long time in silence, the soft rippling in the water and your breathing the only sounds echoing around us, stars twinkling in a gentle greeting when we looked up at them. I wanted this moment to never end, for your body to never be pried from mine. I dreamed about the whole universe revolving only around us with no one to disturb this togetherness, no worries bothering our peace. Our world, free of pain and expectations, of lies and sadness. Just you, in my arms, with nothing keeping us apart. Together until the waters would take our bodies for our eternal rest.
And I knew I'd make this dream of mine come true, no matter what I had to do. No matter the suffering and pain I had to endure; the many more times you'd give me a gaze full of sadness, wanting to leave this place. Even if the Professor kept threatening me, I'd not let anyone take you from me, would not let my mate get hurt, or be forced into more sadness. I'd make everything better. I knew I could make it all better.
Because I belonged with you, and in return, you were mine. 
Trapped with me for all eternity.
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My! Seems like you made it! I believed in you all this time!
Or did you?
Love is such a tricky emotion, like the tides that draw from the beach, only to return quicker than humans realize, trapping them. You can never be sure when these unassuming waters come for your life; the same goes for love.
Maybe you'd have wanted to try something other than this, but is it truly the worst outcome you could have wished for? Did you not want to be loved so dearly that someone would risk their life for you? Or was there something else you'd have rather achieved with your journey? 
I am pleased you followed my instructions, but I can see it in your eyes; there's still so much you haven't experienced yet. Who knows, maybe I can help you with that! I'd be glad to show you what happened to the other two orcas you were caught up with or what would have happened had you made a different choice on your adventure, but for now, this is goodbye. 
I hope you will find happiness in that new life of yours, so far from my ocean. I'm afraid not even I can help you escape from where you ended up. But who knows? Maybe you'll come to like it there. 
Just like everyone else.
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alicerosejensen · 1 year
Text
Shades Of Cool
So here is the angst as promised. I have a lot of requests in messages and I will try to fulfill them, but now I want to write something sad. There was already a similar text, but it did not say exactly how the reader died.
Warning: mention of suicide; the reader has suicidal tendencies; longing with a bad end; Leon is hurt but holding on; Leon!Vendetta
(Depression is my profession, huh.)
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Leon knew you had a failed attempt in the past. Everything has been documented for a long time and is in your medical file, the information of which Hannigan requested at the request of Leon when you first met him. Just to make sure you has nothing to do with Umbrella or other bioterrorists. Of course, you did not have any dark spots in your biography that would have made another chip on his heart if he knew that you were one of those who create bioweapons or have any dealings with them.
Except one.
“Suicide attempt…two years ago. Poisoned by sleeping pills. According to the medical records, she was barely resuscitated." Hannigan's voice came out with a sly grin as Leon's heart sank.
But why?
Leon did not ask you because he realized that he opened that page of your life about which you did not want to tell him yet and had every right to do so. However, you still remembered that sad look of his when he came to your house and hit his shoulder against the door frame. You never told him about it, but you suspected that he knew. You had a few cuts on your arms, but you lied to him that your cat left them for you as a child. Complete nonsense and Leon, holding your wrist in his hand, ran his thumb over deep footprints, looking intently at them.
"Never do that again" from his serious tone, everything inside turned upside down and, meeting with the blueness of his eyes, you lost all words and thoughts, feeling only shame in front of him. As if your problems are too small compared to his and how could you do such things with your body when he sees horrors literally every day? Goosebumps ran down your spine as Leon's lips touched each of your scars as he kissed them. “If something is bothering you, we can solve it differently”
But you didn't know how to decide otherwise. This is something that Leon should have understood before the irreparable happened. Leon was afraid to build relationships, and you didn't believe that someone could love you. Like it was impossible. But if Leon dared to let you get closer to him, to his heart broken into many parts, then you inflicted another knife wound on him.
Pictures of your meeting, communication, joint meetings, ringing laughter, everything revolves before his eyes as a bright kaleidoscope around one colorless event.
His indifferent face seems to show no emotion as he stands in front of the bed, peering down at your lifeless body sprawled on the clean sheets.
He didn't come home to you to find you dead.
But you're so tired of everything. Always not good enough. Never smart enough or pretty enough. There was always... there was always something missing. Eventually something started telling you to stop everything again.
Leon didn't need you. He preferred to while away his days in bars or in correspondence with Ada Wong, which he probably thought you knew nothing about. For everyone, you were too stupid and naive to notice clearly obviously, but you noticed ... you just didn't always show it. Maybe of course you took everything to heart, but even your family constantly inspired you that you were not as good as the rest. This was the reason for the first attempt. But love is short-lived, like a candle in the wind. So you went out like a candle, leaving behind only a dissolving haze. This sea of endless self-loathing covered you in endless waves, plunging you deeper and deeper into a dark abyss from which you no longer wanted to get out. At some point, you just realized that no one will even notice if you leave.
Suppressed by childhood fears, these deep wounds never healed. And the pain was too real, even though you somehow charmed Leon with your inner light and agreed to be with him, you were still alone with this pain.
There was so little good in your life that in the end even Leon turned out to be something negative that finally knocked you off your feet, made you drown, even though he remained your most beloved person. You were always very close to him and very far at the same time, because it was Leon who set the distance. The only woman he could let in without fear and looking back was not you at all.
And yet there was something that brought a smile to the face until the very end. Moments when Leon said that you belong to him and he is obliged to take care of you but in fact even he threw you away as an unnecessary thing.
You are so tired... Leon finally pushed you away after the death of his entire squad. He didn't need you anymore, no matter how hard you tried to help him, he just left without a word, taking the bag with his few things, leaving you in the middle of the room broken like a doll.
With slowly flowing tears on your cheeks, broken from the inside, and only when the door finally slammed shut behind him, you felt pain in your knees when you fell, hitting them on the floor. No word could describe how you felt when he left "us" behind. It hurt more than any betrayal, forcing you to roll onto his side of the bed and touch his nonexistent face. No one could help you forget him, and you were so tired of falling asleep thinking about him, unable to stop loving him. It was so cruel. You literally choked on your own howling and coughing, choking on tears.
He didn't even have anything to say to you. He just left when he saw fit, kicking you out of his life.
You thought pain was the worst feeling, but worse was the endless silence inside you that followed Leon's departure. Not even going to delve into the reason for the distance, as if out of spite, your whole family began to put pressure on you again, condemning you for a small mistake. As if a huge black cloud clouded whole life. You didn't want anything else. There were no tears, no sadness, no joy. You have always been worse than others. From early childhood. Even at your crappy job, you were considered worthless, which eventually led back to the only solution to the problem.
But even if you died, you would create unnecessary problems for your family with a funeral, and they certainly would not want to do this. The guilt was precisely because of this: the knowledge that someone would take the time to prepare your body for burial. But the upsides of your death seemed to far outweigh the few downsides when you were holding a full vial of sleeping pills in your hands.
That's why you corrected yourself. Cleaned up the house, had a nice chat with the upstairs neighbor while she complimented the dress you bought, thinking you were probably going on a date; made the bed with new linens, took a shower and put on light makeup before pouring a full glass of water and drinking sleeping pills one after the other until you emptied the whole vial and your poisoned body collapsed on the bed, staining the pillow with a thin line of blood running from under your nose and mouth.
However, even outwardly you did not look like a sleeper. The heartbeat gradually slowed down, and you plunged deeper and deeper into the dark bottom, from which there was no longer a single chance to get out. There was not even a farewell note, although you wanted to apologize to everyone for the fact that those around you spent so much time on you, but all their hopes were crushed. So death really was a deliverance from all problems.
You just finally solved all your problems in one single right way.
And Leon hated himself for leaving you for months without saying a word. However, something affected him in New York that he rushed to you as soon as the plane landed back, banging on the door of your small apartment to no avail.
This time he wasn't even drunk. Beaten, bruised, but completely sober and alive, unlike you. Because your heart hasn't beat in at least four hours, so your lips have taken on a bluish tint.
"Sweetheart, I know I acted like a fucking asshole but please let's talk. Open the door, I know you're home"
The comic of the whole situation was that the door was actually open, you deliberately did not close it so that in the morning your friend would find you.
"I love you... I was afraid that I might lose you too if I was by your side, but now I understand that I was an idiot! Please, let's talk, I don't want to lose you anymore."
Nothing.
Leon took a deep breath, resting his forehead on the door, trying to hear your steps or movements. Silence. But he knows that you are at home - he saw the open window. He knew that he acted like a son of a bitch, he knew that you had every right to hate him, and yet he wanted to return you.
Another series of knocks followed by no response. Leon accidentally put his hand on the door handle, and then with a click it opened, causing him to freeze in place in amazement. Leon pushed open the door into a dark hallway, and the dim light from the next room made him move further inside, shuddering slightly as the chill of the night ran down his spine.
"Sweetheart?" He slammed the window to a distinctive click, but you still did not respond to his voice.
Your phone was on the table, and next to it was an empty vial of some pills with an almost empty glass of water. Leon unlocked your phone by looking at the list of recent messages, but there was nothing interesting about them. However, taking a vial in his hand and reading the name on the label...
You definitely didn't have any sleep problems! A flash of insight, backed up by the knowledge that you've already had one failed attempt in the past, made Leon's heart sink and freeze as he entered the bedroom and saw your silhouette lying on the bed.
"Baby..." Leon quickly ran up to you, after a few seconds of silent stupor.
Leon turned your body towards him, feeling for a pulse, rubbing your shoulders. The sight of gore on your face for some reason raised a flash of accumulated negative feelings. Pressing your head to his chest, Leon flipped the lamp button to light up the bedroom a little and swallowed the bitter lump in his throat when he saw the lifeless pallor.
"Don't you dare die, do you hear me?!"
You didn't hear. Leon scooped you into his arms, hugging you, whispering something in your head while he searched for the phone in his pocket. While the ambulance was coming, those minutes seemed to drag on forever. Any attempts to bring you to your senses, to at least open your eyes a little, were not blamed for success.
But it was unbearable when the doctors declared death in an unimaginably dry voice without even trying to do anything, despite his furious cries after your body was immersed in a black body bag. Leon just watched silently as the ambulance drove away and the police considered that death by suicide was not worth close attention. "Unrequited Love" would then be whispered among themselves as Leon read a copy of the autopsy report that Hannigan got for him, looking at him with a regretful look.
The following days passed in black despondency and alcohol. Leon would like to burn out all the feelings from his heart for you along with the endless guilt for leaving you. It feels like it's rotting from the inside. There is not the slightest desire to look at you dead, but he comes ... He comes and looks with an empty, otherworldly look at the same serene you. Already in a different dress, but still beautiful, albeit lifeless. he would like to make love to you now, hold you in his arms and luxuriate in bed. Count your moles, cover your back with light kisses and hug you. He would like anything now, but not to see you dead. His hand covered yours with his thumb, running over your knuckles as if remembering what it was like to hold your hand. Some looked at him in bewilderment, but Leon didn't care anymore. He gently stroked your face, trying to ignore the urge to smash everything around from the purest rage and despair that filled it.
But in the end, when all other senses recede, when the lid of your coffin closes forever, only a black, empty nothing remains inside Leon.
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reticent-writer · 9 months
Note
A Situation For Male Hashiras Where The S/O Is The Father Figure Of The Hashiras And Is Around 70-85 Years Old And During An Oni Attack The S/O Is Affected By A Kekkijutsu Which Rejuvenates Him Back Into The Body Of An 22 year old male.
Would Hashiras Feel Intimidated Seeing How Attractive and Handsome Their Father Is? Like prettier than them?
How would Tengen feel about his three wives paying a lot of attention to him due to his beautiful face and body?
Would Obanai feel intimidated due to Mitsuri appearing to like the S/O a lot in that younger appearance? Considering that the S/O is very Attractive.
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Demon slayer masterlist
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿  
An: for some fathers I go with their occupation from other fics.
Mitsuri's ff is a Baker.
Giyuu and Rengoku's is a retired hashira.
Shinobu's is a doctor.
Obanai, muichirou, sanemi and tengen are people from their past.
Demon slayer masterlist
-------
Rengoku
Everyone was stunned except for shinjuro
Shinjuro looked at you like
Kyojuro complimented you on your physique and encouraged you to become a slayer again
That was quickly shot down by shinjuro saying that even if you were young again you haven't fought in years and you could do something else with you time
Senjuro is just glad your alright, he was so worried when he heard you were attacked
Tengen
You went out for a walk when you were attacked
When you got back Hina greeted you thinking you were there to visit uzui
He wasn't there at the moment so Makio and Suma kept you busy while Hina made snacks
You tried to explain who you were by saying you name and what happened but they didn't get it
I guess they thought you weren't right in the head or something
"Oh our father in law has the same name" -Suma
When Tengen came back he recognized you immediately
He explained everything again and they realized you weren't crazy and were actually their FIL
They gushed over you for the rest of the day
Tengen was jealously sitting in the corner while watching
Obanai
He's glad that your young again
to him it means more years with a father figure
He made sure you never left his sight
You were once a fragile old man after all
You and obanai were going out to eat when you ran into mitsuri
"HI OBANAI" -mitsuri yelled from afar catching your attention
"Hello Kanroji" the both of you said
She looked at you confused but still smiled
"Hello I don't think we've met. I'm mitsuri Kanroji."
"Kanroji it's me, Y/n"
She looked so confused until obanai explained
"You look amazing, Mr. L/n" -Mitsuri
That comment set obanai off
He looked at you like you had lost his trust for days
Sanemi
It was foolish for you to go on a mission with him but u went anyway
He was fighting
"WTF HAPPENED I LOOKED AWAY FOR A SECOND!"
He still treated you like you were old
He wouldn't let you walk for too long
He would do all the chores
He would chase Genya away for bothering you while you were resting your eyes
He would watch you sleep to make sure you weren't dead (ya know how old look dead when they sleep)
Genya would be confused but not ask about it and instead do more active things with like (like some things that gyomei taught him)
Muichiro
he doesn't know who tf you are
One minute your old and the next your young
"Tokito it's me"
"Who?"
"Y/n"
.
.
.
"No your not"
He refused to leave the area without you
It took a message, by crow, to shinobu to prove to him that you were you
For days be was awkward around you
He would stare as if he's solving math problems in his head
Giyuu
Initially he was scared cause you just fought off a demon at your old age but when he got to look he you he was just confused
How could you be young again
The both of you went to visit Urokodaki and he had a good laugh at the situation
Giyuu didn't think it was funny
He was genuinely concerned
He took you to shinobu but she said everything was fine
That didn't help ease his worries tho
He watched over you like a hawk
He went on missions less and instead watched over you
No matter how many time you tell him your fine he just can't take your word for it
Shinobu
she'd do multiple check-ups out of confusion
How is it possible that your young again
Was it just your appearance that changed or your body too?
Is it permanent?
The triplets help shinobu while trying not to stare at you they look away when you catching them
Kanao just stares
Aoi acted as if nothing happened, she never treated you differently and even snuck your favorite food to you when Shinobu wasn't looking
Mitsuri
She got a message from her crow that your shop was under attack
She was panicking as she raced to get to you but when she got there, in your place behind the counter there was a attractive young man
This made her more scared she thought 'you' were your relative or something
When you told her what happened she dropped her sword and hugged you
Say goodbye to your newly young bones cause the hug she gave you will made you feel old again
"I'm sorry but I thought you were dead."
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿  
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interroblog · 2 months
Text
I started free writing last week and it tripled my daily word counts so I feel the need to evangelize 👀
I’m in the “figuring out what happens in this story” stage of plotting which is what it’s been really great for, but I can see it helping any time you need to solve problems or get ideas. Here’s the rules I use for myself, hopefully someone else will find it helpful
Write every thought. All of my free writing sessions start with a ramble about how I’m going to start free writing, then I write all the things I could explore until I latch onto one and go.
No thought is too undeveloped. Even if it’s a poorly written sentence fragment or idea about an idea… it might lead to something else, so it goes in.
Chase your ideas! If I’m writing about one idea and I suddenly get another, I’ll just immediately swap to writing about that. I can always finish that other idea later, but I know I’d forget about the new one. It’s easier to remember a half-written idea than a fully unwritten one.
Writing something doesn’t mean I’m going with it. I’ve written down ideas then immediately after added “But I don’t like that because (reason)”. It almost always leads me to writing about another idea that I like a lot more
Basically, it’s not about what you write. It’s about the ideas it leads you to. It’s so helpful for making me get out of my head and solidify thoughts so I can build on them. I’ll put three excerpts from my free writing doc under the cut to show off the different levels of “quality”
“there’s only one bridge into this area, it’s closed for flooding after snow melt. So that’s why they’re stuck in this area. Amp brings them back to his cabin? Doesn’t want to let a bunch of kids sleep outside. There’s two layers to his interactions, the truth that he would die for these fuckers because they are his family- and the lie he’s telling them. It’s the latter I’m trying to figure out.
they first meet him at the gas station, then later [note: here I skipped to the next line to follow a new thought I had, then never went back to finish this one because it connected back anyway]
They’re camping in the woods when they see something tall and inhuman. The moonlight reaches it and they see amp with a torch and a bag (torch??? Who am i) of food, fire starter, and a blanket (given to Saint, who then forces tab to share it with him because he feels awkward. Cuties)
He says he saw their car on the road, it’s march and he didn’t want anyone freezing to death. (There’s the hint that he didn’t just see their car but he knew to be looking for them. He didn’t just happen to have all that stuff on him, after all.)”
“time to free write 500 words real fast cause i wanna get to 2k. What are we working with. I think I’ve got some good stuff right now, it all just needs to fall into place. Let’s see how it goes, listing arcs.
There’s Saint’s arc which i still need to define more, it’s been changing a lot as the story develops which is good!! The goal!! I don’t want to solidify it too much, but it goes”
“let’s see… i really want it to build on itself, and the surgery stuff feels too out of place or like a regression, even though it’s literally the point of the story. Maybe it’s the fact they go home? I could try having the surgery take place in the underground with saint only thinking he’s back at a hospital- but that undermines a lot of the stuff with the parents if it isn’t real”
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cripplecharacters · 28 days
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Salutations! I’m in the process of creating a story wherein both characters are missing an eye. One has a prosthetic, but is presently isolating themself in the woods, and wears an eyepatch to protect the eye while alone; the other’s socket is either empty, or they have a glass eye with no actual details (iris, pupil, etc.). I’ve struggled to find references for the latter, and fear it may come off as unrealistic. I understand prosthetic eyes keep the eyelid from collapsing, but aside from that could a person just not wear one? If these options are unrealistic, please let me know. I can supply you with concept art if need be.
The story itself centers around these characters after one of them finds the other by accident. They’re painted as foils—the one hiding out in the cabin adhering to a self-made sense of logic that centers on cycles and confirmation bias, while the only who takes refuge there after running away is deeply paranoid and prone to hallucinations. The first character is missing their left eye; the other their right. I don’t want to make a symbol of their disabilities, but I feel their designs simultaneously stress their opposing perspectives, as well as the fact they paradoxically still manage to see “eye-to-eye.” Their visual impairment is just one of many ways they’re able to connect across the story, as they also bond over their obscure passions and delusions, and respect each other’s warped worldview to such an extent said worldviews start to blur together. In addition to this, the story places an emphasis upon an entity known as the “ocellus,” which is basically the “false eye” you see on moth wings. In my outline so far, it’s the name of a mysterious band which the pair discover in a record collection, and resolve to solve the mystery of (regarding the members, music, etc.) One of the characters also sleeps with an eye mask with the pattern of moth wings and their respective ocelli overlaying their own eyes; their paranoid counterpart also sees eyes in the trees and wood of the cabin.
Absolutely none of this is set in stone; before it is, I just want to know how much of it is fine, which parts “moralize” or make a symbol of a disability, and what is straight-up ableist. Please let me know if you need more details.
Hi!
The prosthetic eye has two main functions: 1) to keep the eye area stay in shape, 2) to protect the socket. Both of these can be achieved by conformers (it's like a big contact, except it goes into the socket and not on the eye) which I talked about here!
A blank prosthetic eye would probably be fine. The process of getting it custom painted is expensive from what I know, and IRL a lot of people will decide on the generic kind rather than a custom. If in your world the generic happens to be a blank, there's no problems I can think of? Potentially, you could explicitly say that it's not how most prosthetic eyes look like (maybe someone else knows a person with an eye prosthetic and they comment that it's unusual?). You mentioned that the character doesn't have it in all the time, so I don't think the trope of "blind character has blank/white/milky eyes" applies here because it's clear that it's a prosthetic.
A person could decide to go bare, but the sensation of blinking could be uncomfortable, and they would need to clean their socket more to get rid of anything that could get inside. Normal saline could be used for that.
I don't think there's an issue in them missing different eyes at all. If you want to make sure it's not giving "Just Magic Symbolism" energy then you could incorporate some boring everyday things that would make sense. If they go somewhere together, they could decide to walk missing eye-to-missing eye, so that they see what's going on the sides rather than in the middle, things like that. It could make it feel more grounded, so to speak.
I don't see any issues with the moth fake-eyes symbolism either, I think it makes sense for the story you're trying to tell.
If you want to be very safe, I would have a character (can be minor, or background) that's also missing eye(s) that's not connected to any of the potential symbolism and is more of an average Joe of Not Having an Eye.
In case you decide to get into that, it would be nice for them to have different causes of why they don't have eyes. It feels like in fiction it's always physical trauma, but there's a whole more that could cause someone to not have an eye;
anophthalmia,
retinoblastoma,
severe eye infection,
elective enucleation (removal) of an already blind/painful eye,
just to give you a few ideas! Giving them "boring" everyday reasons of eye loss will also make it feel less symbolic and more like a regular disability. Think "dramatic swordfight with Huge Meaning" vs "yeah I had cancer in my eye when I was 2".
I hope that this helps; if you have any further details you'd like to ask about feel free to send another ask!
mod Sasza
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06sunnybunny06 · 1 month
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Love for three. [18+] (Alhaytham, Kaveh)
-....
-..This........is not allowed...Why?
The darkness swallowed up the mind. The body does not obey at all. Something is preventing you from waking up. Behind the curtain of darkness, voices can be heard somewhere outside. It used to seem like they were coming from far away, but now the sounds are getting louder.
- How did it even occur to you that this would be a good idea?! What you did is not just wrong, it's ILLEGAL!
The loud statements were followed by a heavy sigh. A lower voice spoke quieter than his opponent.
- We have discussed this many times. There was a dilemma between us, and you didn't want to back down in any way. I don't plan on losing to you either. There are only two ways to solve the problem, to share or not to share at all...
-But what's going to happen to her? Have you thought about it? How do you plan to explain this whole situation?
- Anyone can adapt. It will take time and it will pay off.
- And if the Mantra starts an investigation? If Sayno joins in?
- Just keep quiet and no one will find out. Your whining might give us away.
- It's not right. I won't be able to accept it.
- Do you think you can get away with it? Don't forget, you're my accomplice. Even if by a miracle I'm the only one going to jail. Not only will you be left without a roof over your head, but your reputation will come to an end. No job, no money, and a lot of unpaid debts. Consider yourself already sitting in the grave. All that remains is to bury yourself or someone else will do it.........If you mess it up now.
- But...
There was silence. My eyes began to adjust to the darkness. You were lying in a small room on a small double bed. It seemed that the body had fallen from a great height and was now recovering from the shock. The slightest movements can be done, but with great difficulty. My throat ached for water.
After a couple of minutes, it became impossible to lie staring at the ceiling. You wanted to get up. Small attempts to stand up led to a loss of balance. You fell down. Hurried footsteps were heard outside. The door opened, letting in a bright light. I had to close my eyes to avoid going blind. A young man with golden hair picked you up. The concern in his eyes reminded you of someone very familiar..
- Oh Archons, are you okay?
-I... want to.. drink..
- Sunshine, give it a little bit.
He turned to the second man, who was leaning against the door frame.
- Get her some water.
Turquoise eyes studied your haggard face. The tall silhouette walked away from the threshold and returned with a glass in his hand. When he got closer, you could see his face too. Fragments of memories flashed before my eyes. You've known these people for a long time, but their names are on the tip of your tongue.
The blond man held the glass to your lips. Cold liquid is poured into the mouth. After a nauseating awakening, the water relieved the semi-conscious state.
- What did you drug her with?
There was silence in the air. The gray-haired man sat next to him, thinking about the answer.
Just a little sleeping pill. She'll come to her senses soon. Put her on the bed for now. You can't get much out of her right now.
The blond man grimaced in disgust, but obediently picked you up. Ruby eyes restlessly studied your face.
- I'll stay here. Next to her.
And another heavy sigh. - "I told you it wouldn't do much good, but you're still trying to help her somehow. Trust me, there are no dangers in this house. It's better to just lock the door."
-Do you think it's better to leave her like a criminal in a locked room? And how do you imagine that?
- I know better what and how...
They started arguing again, but you hardly realized it when you fell asleep. The next morning, consciousness cleared up. The light outside the window hit my eyes. It must be noon by now. Looking closer, you realized that the room is completely different from the one in which you fell asleep last night. Panic began to form in my heart. So it wasn't a dream. These two people were quite real. What happened to you? Why did you end up in someone else's house?
Some movement nearby made you turn around sharply. That golden-haired guy who looked after you so diligently yesterday turned out to be an old acquaintance of Kaveh's. You once studied at the academy together. Our paths often crossed. A friendly guy, although preoccupied with his own problems. They say his financial affairs leave much to be desired.
Ruby eyes sleepily opened, looking in your direction. When he saw that you were awake, he immediately perked up. - "Good morning. How are you?" And that restless look again. He tried to move cautiously, without making sudden movements, as if there was a frightened cat in front of him.
- Good, despite the headache and a lot of questions. Where am I?
The guy jerked. A nervous smile appeared on his face. - "You see..."
Suddenly, another person entered the room. It turned out to be Alhaytham, known for his cold calculation and a lover of solitude. He also used to study at the academy, but your relationship is not friendly. Just a couple of phrases during work or a particularly important case. Thanks to the temporary position of the great sage, he has recently been the one to whom you have submitted your research for verification. So he brought water yesterday.
-Are you awake? Good. It will be much easier for you to realize your position. - He unceremoniously entered the room, sitting down on a chair.
- My position?
He nodded, staring intently at Kaveh. - "We're talking about a new investigation. Recently, a crime was committed at the academy. Someone managed to impregnate several artifacts from a secret vault with a poisonous substance. It would seem that nothing serious, since these things have been gathering dust there for quite a long time, but recently several scientists became interested in exploring the abandoned temple of King Dershret. They just needed these artifacts for verification. Everything was fine at first, until all three of them came down with a severe fever. The fact is that the toxin was discovered in the laboratory where you work. According to your boss, you were the one who worked with him before this incident. That's why you're the prime suspect. "
- What? But... But it would never have occurred to me to harm anyone! Moreover, how can this be related to me if I don't even know these people?!
Such a flow of information made my stomach twist, and tears welled up in my eyes. Poisoning is considered a real crime. There are many dangerous toxins in your laboratory, from which human life may be in danger. A great opportunity to steal the right one and set you up. You started imagining what might happen to you. And the more thoughts about further consequences arose, the scarier they became.
Kaveh turned abruptly in the direction of Haytham. - "Don't push her! Do you see how excited she is?"
He turned in your direction. His gentle actions tried to calm you down, but a noticeable nervousness made itself felt. He didn't like this situation himself, but he had no choice but to play along. - "L-listen. I understand that this whole story has unsettled you. We were also shocked when we found out about your involvement. You know, I don't want you to put yourself in danger. I know very well what kind of person you are. Out of old friendship, we decided to help you. You can hide with us. Practically live here."
You stared at Kaveh with eyes full of despair. That look broke the guy so much that he decided to hug your trembling body. Meanwhile, Al-Haytham was watching you from the sidelines. There was nothing to do but agree to a "temporary" stay in their guest room. It was easier than running blindly from the law. Everyone knows how criminals are treated.
Living with Kaveh and Alhaitam is like being in the middle between two different elements. They are so different from each other and hate each other just as much. Have you often wondered: "Then why do they live together if they don't get along?"
The blond man could only mutter to himself about his miserable life. To which the neighbor replied that he himself was to blame for his misfortune.
It wasn't that bad. These were peaceful days until you started to notice excessive attention to your person.
How paradoxical that Kaveh was trying to keep an eye on you, and Haytham was trying to find out more about you in casual conversations, down to intimate details. All this scared you. Although it's much better to have a few weird neighbors than to be caught and convicted of a crime you didn't commit.
Trying to find the bright side in his situation led to deep reflection. Kaveh has the ability to empathize, which allows him to endear himself to people. As in the past, you spent your time at ease. He was flattered by the way you took care of him during his apathy and stress. The poor guy was sometimes very tired, and only your presence gave him a breath of fresh air. The architect really liked your kindness. It was as if an angel had descended into his unhappy life.
Haytham was cold in his communication. Nevertheless, he enjoyed your discussions. Perhaps that's why he was so passionate about your person. In fact, he doesn't even know why he likes you. During your studies, you worked enthusiastically on projects. He couldn't take his eyes off your figure, bent over the desk in concentration. It looks like one of your potions has bewitched him.
Falling in love is a common thing in adolescence. There's nothing you can do about human nature. It seemed to Haytham that the temporary attraction to the opposite sex would soon pass. But it was some time later, when you, as an adult scientist, put your research on his desk. The secretary thought he was going crazy. As an evil thing, you have grown up, and the forms of an already fully formed girl have rounded out. There was a sexual desire to knock you down on the table and possess you, throwing all your clothes on the floor. Is it strange to think about who you like in this way? His boner confirms it.
Imagine his surprise when the eternally annoying neighbor began to show signs of attention to you. This was the reason for the beginning of a serious conversation between them. Another headache and even more. Eternal discontent, and therefore rivalry. A small fear that Cavecht would get to your heart began to penetrate your body like poison. Haytham didn't realize it himself when he looked at your sleeping body. All that remained in his memory was a picture of his own house and a surprised neighbor.
Kaveh was ready to throw a tantrum all over the neighborhood until he realized that if the kidnapping was solved, he would also be in trouble. Even if he didn't like it. From the darkest corners of consciousness, another side can sometimes break through, which not only approves of Alhaytham's actions, but is also ready to commit "wrong" actions itself. That's why he already had your used panties in his pocket. Their fragrance was intoxicating, like the taste of nectar for a bee. During masturbation, he pressed them to his nose and listened to your scent. Sometimes he put them on his penis, soaking it with his sperm. The realization came only after the high, when he felt really ashamed. Thanks to this, washing clothes always rested on Kaveh's shoulders, as the pleasure session became his shameful habit.
You are so used to their swearing that you did not notice how one of them practically decided the fate of your innocence. You may not like being with two partners at once, but a couple of tricks and manipulations should break your will. The secretary carefully prepared for this case by reading a large stack of literature on sexology and psychology. Thus, he knows the female body like the back of his hand.
Kave is more delicate in this matter. Despite the fact that he can't wait to enter your sweet hole, you still have feelings too. The guy carefully prepares for your connection until his patience breaks down and he practically starts eating you. After such a stormy night, their traces remain on the body. Most of all, Haytham hates looking at your marks left by another person. He will leave a lot more red spots during your date and stick into you much harder. At such moments, sex can be quite violent. It all depends on the mood.
From a moral point of view, such a relationship seems wrong, but you have absolutely nowhere to go. Sitting in four walls becomes boring every day. The guys know that you can't escape because you're afraid of going to jail. One day, Haytham brought a flyer with your face on it as proof that they were looking for you. But he did not mention that the inscription "Missing" was torn off at the bottom. The scribe's lies had a strong effect on you, which surprised Kaveh very much. He knew before how smart Alhaytham was, but to play on a person's mind like that. This gave him a reason to call his neighbor a monster.
After all, you wanted to go outside and check the situation. At least secretly, but for a walk. Maybe if you ask the guys carefully, they can arrange it somehow. Really?
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thatfreshi · 1 month
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"Light-Headed"
A short sequel to "Undeserving," commissioned by @mosshugs
(Please note that the original piece dealt heavily with disordered eating behaviors and that this one is similar, but a happy ending <3)
It’s been a while since the fall of Cazador, and all your other adventures have come to an end. You’ve settled down since then, Astarion by your side. You stopped counting the days a long time ago, how long it had been since his old master had died. Maybe he stopped counting as well, but you know against your better judgement that he probably hasn’t. Since those times, your group has found new ways of life. Gale has started teaching young wizards, Wyll moved on with Lae’zel to help the army of Baldur’s Gate, and so on. You and Astarion though? You’ve spent a lot of time in your new home, organizing, collecting new trinkets, decorating, building, and overall enjoying having a home. This hasn’t stopped your personal ongoing struggles though.
The two of you have your own issues, things that didn’t end after Cazador died, and things that would probably never end. Especially in Astarion’s case, immortality leaves him with a lot of problems to solve, and a lot of those problems may never have solutions. One morning though, when the two of you are lying in bed, he manages to solve just one debacle. 
“Darling? Are you awake?”
It’s slightly lit, the bedroom, with Astarion on the darker side of the bed. You are awake, having just woken up from a long slumber. Turns out being new homeowners is quite tiresome, leaving the two of you with much rest to catch up on. 
“Yes, I am awake. Sadly.”
It seems a though shuteye is never enough these days, especially afte trying to catch up on all the missed sleep on your journey.
“I thought… and only if you’d want to of course, that we could try feeding again? I don’t know what it is but today, I feel better than normal. As if this pang of hunger is somehow, more delicate than it usually feels.”
You barely spoke about his feeding habits, but it has been quite difficult for him to find energy with his lack of drinking from you. You try every now again to let him drink your blood, but it never seems quite right. Even with Cazaor gone, the wounds are still there. It seems like maybe, some of them will always be there, no matter how hard either of you try.
“Of course my love, always.”
A common response on your end, one that he quite likes. It’s nice for him to know that there is always a source of food for him, that scarcity is no longer in existence. Security, what a luxury that should only be a necessity. 
Somewhere in the middle of your thoughts, you feel a sharp pain in your neck. This process must have happened over a hundred times by now, so you’re used to the cold, the sting, and all of those fun metaphors people use in reference to vampire bites. While you’re thinking though, trying not to put any pressure on him, you ponder what is on the agenda today. There’s still much to be done, many more pieces of furniture to procure, a garden to start outside…
And after a while of listing things off in your head, you realize that for the first time in a long time, you’re starting to get light-headed. Soon after, he releases from your throat, and there’s a sense of joy in your dizzy state. You try not to make a big deal out of it, considering you don’t want to scare him with some big gesture or make it seem like a successful feeding is abnormal, but he’s the one to outwardly express it first. When you lock eyes with him, he’s actually tearing up a little.
“That was… good. It was good for once.”
“It was?”
“Yes.”
And that response brings down the dam, and he fully begins to cry. This isn’t something you see from him often, but this issue with him being unable to feed has been plaguing the two of you for months. You find yourself soon crying along with him.
“How do you feel?”
“I don’t know. Strong? Peaceful? Not like I should be punished?”
That word pangs in your chest, ‘punished,’ as if he should ever be punished for sustenance. Sadly, you know that reality was all too real in the past.
“Good. You should feel strong, because you are.”
He takes one of your hands in both of his.
“Thank you my dear. Maybe I’m stronger than I thought I was.”
Is every other feeding from then on perfect? No, of course not. Healing is never quite as linear as we would like it to be, and it certainly isn’t as pretty either. There are horrible moments in the future, but also grand ones, ones like these that pull at your heartstrings and remind you why you ever fell in love. And slowly, day by day, the grand moments outweigh the horrible ones, and your dear Aster becomes better and better because of it, and the two of you become better because of each other.
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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 1 month
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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four
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TW: sexual harassment, no means yes, asshole doctors/doctor slander (sorry if you’re an actual good doctor), mentions of alcoholism/sickness, burns
You should probably decide to do whatever the opposite of man up is-pussy down?-and specifically request to not have Officer Ludlow ever be on your patient roster again. He’s bad for your health and, despite being the one always putting him back together, you’re bad for his, too. 
You’re trying not to morally question yourself about why you didn’t do something after the first, second, or hell, even third time he borderline sexually harassed you…  You’re trying not to think too much about why you don’t do it now: open the manager’s door with your shaking, clammy hand and say “hey, creepy patient, please keep him away from me”. It would be so easy. This stuff happens a lot to the other staff in the ED, and always gets solved without a problem. 
You don’t do it, though. You walk away without blacklisting Tom Ludlow. And doesn’t that just say mountains about you. But, anyway, you have your own job to do fighting disease and trauma from the mean streets of the City of Angels, so you don’t really have time for all this petty drama bullshit. 
Whatever helps you sleep at night.
You’re not really sure how it’s possible, after eight years of higher education plus residency training, but doctors really can be idiots sometimes. 
“Discharge, really?” You whisper to yourself, clicking on the order to see if it’s just a mistake-nope, legit. 
You grab the clipboard from your patient’s bedside and go hunt down Dr. Mercer, who is currently standing at the desk flipping through paperwork. 
“Hey, Julian, can I have a quick second?”
He gives you one of his signature, charming white smiles that can calm almost any belligerent patient down. “Of course. Anything for my favorite nurse.” He motions for you to sit in the swivel chair, and takes the one opposite from you. 
Julian makes it a point to give you his full attention, and that never fails to fluster you, but you can shoulder through it most of the time. The man is too handsome for his own good, and you haven’t found a female in this hospital immune to his charm-even Shelby, the housekeeper who is strictly attracted to women… and one man: Dr. Mercer. 
“You put in a discharge order for room 13?” 
“Hmm, one sec.” He leans over to click through the computer, then turns back. “Yes, is there a problem?”
“Well, I thought we would be admitting him?” 
“No, that won’t be necessary. He’s free to go home.” 
“Julian.” You’ve known this man for a whole year and should not be this hesitant about questioning a single order from him, but you take a big pause nonetheless. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem; any other doctor you could confront with ease, but Julian is so, so nice and he always gets your Starbucks order right and never lets you pay him back for it. You don’t want to be a dick to such a sweet person. “I don’t think he’s ready to be discharged. He’s a heavy drinker and his potassium is still low. Plus, he lives alone.” 
“His potassium is only one point off, y/n. And the rest of his labs look good. I can’t keep someone for alcoholism.”
Well, the good thing is that you’re not hesitant anymore, just really pissed, because obviously Dr. Mercer’s kindness and understanding doesn’t extend to his less fortunate patients. 
“Wow, that’s not okay, Julian.”
His smile fades a little bit, or just turns mean, you can’t really tell which, and he sighs. “I’m sorry, I’m very busy. If this conversation is about morals, I’m afraid I don’t have time for it.” 
“It’s not about morals.” You try to lasso your anger, but it seeps into the tone of your voice like a hiss. “I’m concerned about patient safety, and his potassium is just going to drop further if we send him back to drink himself to death. And then he’ll have a heart attack.” 
“I treat current conditions. I can’t focus on what-ifs.” He tries to put his hand atop yours, but you pull back. 
All doctors are the same? What a shocker. You haven’t met even one who didn’t eventually do this shit, and Julian is no different despite your burgeoning hope that he was. 
“I’m not giving him that paperwork,” you say. “I’m not discharging him.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“I’m not doing it.”
“We need to free up the bed for patients who need it.” 
“Do it yourself, then.” 
His smile falls the whole way down, and you can’t find it in your bleeding heart to care.
You need to get away from him before you say something that will make him want to get you your usual coffee order and then spit in it, but he grabs your forearm gently before you can. 
“Y/n-“
“I told you I’m not discharging him.” He lets you pull back. “And I really don’t have time for this.” 
***
You should just let it go, but by the time your break comes around, you are still quietly seething over Dr. Mercer’s idiotic order, and the way he fucking talked to you. 
You’ve come a long way, but sometimes when a man talks down to you with that certain tone, you still see red. 
Maybe it’s a character flaw, but after the hell you’ve lived through, you can’t help but feel entitled to some righteous feminine rage.
You’re alone in the little side nook with its hard plastic chairs that almost hurt you more than standing. But your feet need a break, so while you massage your foot your tailbone suffers.
You need a massage. A real, full-body rub-down–why is it, that the thought calls up the memory of a certain large, strong, calloused pair of hands that may or may not belong to a certain inappropriate officer of the law?
It’s possible you are staring into space, fantasizing about burning dark eyes unabashedly boring into yours as those mitts for hands–
A soft knock on the doorjamb pulls you back to the present–and the last person you want to see is taking up the whole doorway. It takes every iota of self-control you have left not to snarl, What do you want?
“Doctor?” You even put extra sugar into your tone, which he seems to sense is utterly manufactured judging by his awkward smile.
“Y/n.”
You wait silently, allowing the lift of one eyebrow that you fear conveys all your disdain. “I believe I owe you an apology.”
You blink, certain you misheard. 
“I’m sorry?”
“You were right. The patient was not ready for discharge.”
You blink again. Has hell warmed over? “I know,” you finally answer, which for some reason makes him smile. He takes the liberty to cross the room to sit down next to you, with only one plastic chair between you. 
“It took some courage to stand up to me. Well done.”
Dr. Julian Mercer is TV doctor hot–tall, broad shouldered, handsome. His thin scrubs do very little to conceal his lithe, athletic body underneath, and everyone in the hospital loves to titter about him as he breezes by. You’re not exactly immune to his charms, but failing to advocate for a patient for fear of displeasing him wouldn’t have even occurred to you.
“I just want what's best for my patients.” That, at least, is the truth. 
The good doctor nods, his longish hair swinging into his eyes. Maybe you do feel the slightest urge to brush it away. 
“Truly commendable, y/n.” Then he points at your foot, and makes a come hither gesture with his fingers.
You don't understand what he wants, and your face shows it. 
“Is your foot hurting you?”
Perpetually, is the answer, but you just nod dumbly.
“Give it here.”
“Why?”
His smile is gentle as spring rain. “I’m offering you an apology foot rub.”
“How wildly inappropriate,” you comment while extending your foot. You’ve eyed Dr. Julian’s hands before. They may be soft, but they are big, so maybe he could be of some use to you. 
He laughs at that; a short huff of laughter that possibly softens you a little towards him. And once your foot is in his hands–ok, that feels good, maybe better than good, and maybe Dr. Julian does know something about making the human body feel better. A small noise escapes you, and you are breaking so many hospital policies right now, but god dammit they work you to the bone here.
He’s even kind enough to do your other foot too, and by the time he’s done with you you’re leaning back in your chair on your hand with your eyes closed. You open one eye with a sigh as he gives the ball of your foot a finishing squeeze.
“Ok. I’m mostly not mad anymore.”
He gives a short guffaw at that. “You were mad?” Like he’s surprised you’ve taken any of this personally.
“Of course I was.”
“Oh.”
Strangely he doesn’t seem offended by this. “You really do care about your patients.”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“I'm not surprised. but…”
“But what?”
“It's hard on us as medical professionals, to take every case personally. We do our best, of course, but at the end of the day you have to keep some sliver of your heart back for yourself, or you won’t survive to help anyone tomorrow.”
You raise your eyebrows at that. It never would have even occurred to you not to give your heart and soul to anyone who needed it during your shift. 
“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”
You can’t help but notice he still hasn't released your foot, toying with the curve of your big toe through your sock. 
“Perhaps we will.”
He is looking at you searchingly, and it’s all you can do not to flinch from that intuitive gaze.
“Thank you, Dr. Mercer.” 
He opens his mouth as though to say more, but one of your colleagues walks in, and that’s the end of your little moment.
***
Surprise, surprise, when the next night, Guess Who finds his way onto your examination table.
For fuck’s sake.
“Officer Ludlow. What brings you in tonight?”
You know you sound tired, look like hell, and smell like straight up human waste, but Tom looks extra happy to see you. “You work too much.”
You don’t have the energy to argue, much less with the truth. “Yeah, and you get injured too much.” Great, solid comeback, you really got him there. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 
He whistles. “Bad mood. Damn.” 
“Just tell me what you’re fucking here for, Tom.” You plop down on the stool next to his bed, chin in your hand. 
He tugs his charred pant leg up, and beneath, so fresh it should be sizzling and smoking, is a nasty burn the size of your head. 
“How did you manage that?” You wince, leaning down to assess the damage. Luckily, it’s only second degree, shiny and bloody and wet and looking too painful to bear weight on. “How are you walking?” 
“Remember the sword?” 
“How could I forget?”
“Okay, well this time it was a flamethrower.”
“How are people getting their hands on this shit?” 
He shrugs, which makes you laugh for the first time all day. “Alright, I don’t think it’s third degree, but I need the doctor to-“
“Good evening Mr. Ludlow.” Julian has drawn back the curtain and stepped inside your little exam room with that branded, signature smile on his face.
“Hey, Julian-Doctor-can you take a look at this?”
While Julian looks at the burn, you sneak a peek at Tom, and see some type of look on his face-not confusion, not concern, more analyzing. Assessing. Thinking. 
“This your doctor boyfriend you were telling me about?”
You can almost hear the sizzle of heat making its way up your neck to your cheeks. This fucking bastard. Embarassing you at work, trying to catch you out in your lie. He levels that penetrating gaze with you, just the tiniest tick at the corner of his mouth betraying his amusement.
Yet he is not the only perceptive man in the room. Julian looks between the two of you, and you swear he reads the situation as clearly as a book. Without losing a beat, god bless, he goes into Full Authoritative Doctor Mode. “I am, not that my relationship with Miss y/n is any of your concern.”
Either of them could have pushed you over with a feather–you can hardly believe Julian is playing along.
“Sorry, doc. I’m a detective. Just curious by nature.” Ludlow levels Julian with a stony look, conveying that he didn’t believe the doctor–or he really didn’t like what he’d said.
“I’m sure you are,” answers Julian, throwing you a knowing look that only makes the fire under your collar ten times worse. “Can you go check on Mrs. Andersen in room 10, y/n? I can handle Officer Ludlow.”
Somehow, you kind of doubt that, and you find you’re reluctant to leave them alone in the room together. But, you’ve already been insubordinate once this week. They’re grown men. What’s the worst that could happen? 
Yet as you’re making your exit, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just left Dr. Mercer at the mercy of a wolf. 
You are glad you went to check on Mrs. Andersen, because she needed some warm assurance, on top of a slight adjustment of her IV. When you walk back out into the hall, headed for the nurses station, it’s almost as though the atmosphere has changed. No one else seems to sense it, but somehow you just know something is off. With dread in your heart you scurry back to where you’d left Ludlow and Mercer, bursting through the curtains.
They are standing toe to toe, nose to nose. It’s made a little more ridiculous by the bulky dressing on Tom’s calf, but you still don’t doubt his ability to wipe the floor with Dr. Julian. Which is a ridiculous fucking thing for you to have to worry about, but here you are.
You don’t raise your voice, not wanting to draw attention, but you do not hesitate to put yourself between them. You try not to notice how solid Tom’s chest is beneath your hand, compared to Julian’s. “That is enough.” You direct this at Tom, of course, because you have zero doubt as to who started it.
“Why are you yelling at me?” Tom complains childishly.
“Because I’m not stupid.”
“I know you’re not stupid. But this asshole seems to think he owns you.”
You do lift an eyebrow at that, but it’s so not the issue at hand. “Do you want to be escorted out by security?”
“I think I’m done here anyway.” Ludlow picks up his jacket, glaring at Julian. “Thanks for the dressing, Doc.” His tone, however, more conveys Eat shit and die. Then he looks at you, and those burning dark eyes send an uneasy thrill to your toes–by way of your treacherous pussy, who does not seem to understand that men like Tom Ludlow are very bad for you. She has gotten you into so much trouble before, and by god you are not letting her run the show this time.
“Be seeing you, sweetheart.”
“Not on these hospital grounds, you’re not,” asserts Dr. Julian, and Tom, damn him, just laughs.
There is just something about that man’s presence that leaves behind traces of him in a room, long after he has gone. You just stand there, maybe rather stupidly, struggling to process what just happened. What is it about you, that attracts these cocky assholes that just can’t take no for an answer?
“Are you alright?” asks Julian, and you actually believe that he cares about you, concern written in his achingly handsome features, his kind hand on your shoulder.
“Yeah, sure. Sorry about him.”
He gives you a gently amused look. “You are not responsible for that man’s bad behavior.
And you won’t be treating him anymore.” 
You would argue, assert yourself, do that thing where you’re strong and independent and take care of the own sore skin on your back, but you really don’t have the energy right now, and Julian-fuck him-he’s right, you should not be Ludlow’s nurse anymore for his sake and yours. 
You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, wishing it was the end of your shift. “Alright.” 
At least the rest of the night goes by fairly quickly, although that means you’re busy enough not to have another break, however, Julian-apologetic Julian, who brings you a turkey sandwich and makes you sit down and eat it and drink at least half a bottle of water-is making things a little better. 
The doctors don’t really get into the shit like you and your fellow nurses, although they are just as busy, and the fact that he takes time to be concerned about you after the emotional beginning of your shift really touches you. He knows he fucked up the other day, and he’s in full sweet cinnamon roll mode to try and rectify it. That’s why you can’t-and, if you’re being honest-don’t want to tell him no when he catches you in the parking lot before you get into your car. 
“Here, you left your stethoscope.” He loops it around your neck, then opens your driver’s door for you. 
“Julian, it really is okay.” You reach up to pat his lab coat shoulder in reassurance. “And I’m fine. Tom is just a big bully.” Why do you feel like you’re betraying him by talking shit to Julian in the parking lot? 
He looks down at you like he’s made up his mind about something, and grins. “Have coffee with me?”
You blink at him. “Like, right now?” 
“No, Saturday morning. Seven AM?” He grabs the spiral notebook and pen from his breast pocket and writes you his number. “Since I’m your boyfriend, I should take you out on a date, don’t you think?” 
Well, at least he’s asking nicely instead of being an asshole about it like some people… 
You chuckle, tuck the note and your hands into your scrub pockets, and hope the heat isn’t visible on your face. “Guess you’re right.” 
You might be playing a dangerous game, here, but hell, there’s a reason you work in the ED of a level one trauma center; you’re a sucker for cheap thrills
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Bringing up some angst because I crave violence:
How would the SDV and SVE marriagables react to their kid/kids having the gift of magic, but then they learn that their children might get taken away by the ministry of magic to study under a mage in a different town?
Hello 👋 Glad to see you here again ☺️ I hope you don't mind if I only do SDV and SVE bachelors here 💕
SDV and SVE bachelors react to the news that the Ministry of Magic may take baby away from them and Farmer:
"Sam, our kid has magic." "That's awesome!" "Also, our kid can be taken away by wizards from the Ministry of Magic without our permission, to be put in the hands of a stranger for magic training..." ".... Now that's not awesome at all." Sam is completely confused and doesn't know what to do. Naturally, he doesn't want to give his own child to just anyone and to an unknown place. So he will consult with the Farmer on what to do. His first suggestion will be to make a lot of traps in house for uninvited guests, as in the "Home Alone" film. If their arrival is not avoided, the musician will not give up the baby without a fight!
"If they think they can just walk into our house and take our kids, they're very fucking wrong," Shane will not put up with the idea of some strangers coming in and dictating terms to him and his family. He will be willing to physically attack them in order to protect the people he holds dear, and will also become a little paranoid about the safety of Farmer and the little ones. Not under his watch, no way.
"What?! It's... That's... How dare they?! What right do some, pardon my profanity, imbecile have to come into our house and take our child?! Outrageous! Oh, I'm going to go over there and tell them what I think of them..... Well, where are they exactly?" Elliott may go so far as to go to Rasmodius' tower and ask him to connect him with this obscure Ministry so that the writer can vent his tirade on these upstarts. Alas, it is unlikely that a verbal altercation and bare fists will somehow cope with powerful magic, but Elliott is ready to fight to the last for his and Farmer's child.
Harvey could hardly keep calm, but Farmer sees the rage boiling inside their spouse, which is quite justified, for they too do not want to obey the stupid rules of the Ministry of Magic. Instead of aggression and emotion, the local doctor will use cold logic. In fact, the Ministry's actions can be seen as kidnapping, a violation of human rights. Farmer already famous person outside the Stardew Valley, and Harvey is not the last doctor, so if the case is made public, non-magical people will become a big problem for the magical organisation.
The news of the magical talent and the Ministry made Sebastian very worried. It's one thing to simply be offered a choice and quite another to be almost forcibly taken away from your family. Sebby wouldn't let that happen. Even though he doesn't know much about adventurers and the concept of magic yet, he believes that he and Farmer together can handle the trouble and protect their child from toxic people from some stupid Ministry.
Alex has a similar situation with Shane, except the athlete is now even more fixated on the child's safety. He knows Farmer will always be able to protect themself, but what about their baby? He's going to start being with his baby and Farmer almost 24/7. Farmer will have to calm down the worried young dad and together solve the problem, for Alex, who is guarding the crib for the fourth night without a proper sleep, already realizes himself how this stress is taking a heavy toll on his health.
Magnus knows how the system works in the magical world and realizes that sometimes the rules of the Ministry of Magic sometimes are... questionable, but he doesn't worry about this much. He is an official wizard and it makes no sense to give another wizard their gifted baby. If someone at the top does want to give the baby to another person, Magnus has enough connections (and Camilla as a bargaining chip), to give the Ministry hell on earth. But this is as a last resort, he hopes the Ministry will make the right choice.
Yoba... Victor had once read about the Ministry of Magic and the rather strange rules and code of wizards/witches/mages, but taking a child away from their family? That's not right. The poor man is utterly confused and doesn't know who to turn to for advice. All he can do is hope they can enlighten the Ministry members when they come to their farm. Or protect the child. He may not be as brave as his love, but a parent, when they feel threatened towards their child, is capable of many things in a rage.
"Don't worry, my love. No one will take our little one because the mage who will train them is standing right in front of you." Lance himself was given to his Dragonmaster for training, but it was his meaningful choice at the time, and his parents were okay with it too. And Lance realises that it didn't go as smoothly for other families. However, he, like Magnus, is officially a mage on par with his position as an adventurer, so it doesn't make sense to give the child to someone else. Lance will not give the baby to anyone, he will defend with words (maybe even sword and magic) his spouse and his child if need be.
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