#{ she's in a most peculiar phase }

[findmeinforks]

Understanding - Paul Lahote X Fem!Reader

A little break up, make up one shot while I work on part two of stay 💕 as always, let me know what you think! 2.4K Words ❤️

You had been understanding. You had been so, incredibly, unbelievably understanding. You had been kind, patient, considerate. You had thrown every insecurity away in your mind. You shoved your feelings right down your throat.

But that was over with now.

Now, you faced him. In the middle of the yard, your throat agonizingly raw from yelling. You were shocked he hadn't phased yet, but he knew the minute he did you would take off. The pack, watching from afar and unbeknownst to you, were also shocked at his restraint.

"I would NEVER do anything to hurt you. Why won't you believe that?"

You laughed wetly through the tears. You were down right manic over what he didn't comprehend.

"Really?? You don't understand why I would be upset by ANY of this? Are you that fucking blind?"

Paul huffed through his nose, attempting to control his temper.

"I have a job, Y/N. There's new bloodsuckers popping up every day now and we have to make sure we're ready for anything. That means stacking up our numbers against them. Guy or girl, they have to be trained."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes,

"And don't you find it at all peculiar that everyone else is out on their own but you're STILL having to train this same girl? DAY IN AND DAY OUT?!"

He sighed.

"She should be ready, I know. But every time we get on patrol, she gets fearful and fails at basic exercises. Sam has me spend extra time with her."

You threw up your hands as if the answer was obvious, "Then TELL Sam to have someone else take a turn?"

"She only likes training with me."

Your eyes went wide, and all you saw was red.

"AND THAT DOESNT GIVE YOU ANY FUCKING CLUE THAT MAYBE SHES FAILING ON PURPOSE FOR YOUR ATTENTION? THAT MAYBE SHE DOESNT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT IMPRINTS? THAT MAYBE PERHAPS SHE HAS DIFFERENT INTENTIONS?"

Paul shook his head, him now scoffing.

"It's actually really hard to learn to navigate being a wolf. That's something YOU don't seem to understand."

You think you had lost your mind. It seemed as though the world crumbled around you, his words ringing in your ears from the impact. That was not something the imprint you knew before this would have ever dared say to you. It wasn't that you believed Paul would ever be disloyal, but your instincts were damn sure this girl wanted him to be.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"You're right. I don't. You need to be with someone that understands. We're done."

Paul stepped back like he had taken a blow to the chest. His eyes softened now.

"You....you don't mean that."

You headed towards your car, not being able to face the broken look in his eyes.

"Y/N, wait," he reached out, and even though you were mad, a part of it killed you to deny him.

You shook your head, new tears rehydrating their original streaks.

You sniffled, and took a deep breath.

"I'm tired, Paul. I'm tired of waiting up for you. I'm tired of being left unanswered for hours. I'm tired of making plans that just get canceled. Im tired of being lonely. And most of all, I'm tired of being disappointed."

He grabbed your arm before you could fully get in, and you saw Sam emerge, still at a respectable distance from the two of you.

"Baby listen, okay, I'm sorry. I can do better I-"

"You've said that before Paul. This is not the first time we've fought about this."

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes now.

"Please. Don't." He whispered.

He almost made you cave. You so badly wanted to stay. But you also knew if you did, it would be the same reoccurring cycle. He had to know you were serious. You wanted the relationship you had before she came along. Until you were sure you would get that again, you had to leave.

"I have to go. Call me when your priorities change." You said as you gently pulled out of his grip and shut the door. And with that, you took off to your father's place.

-

Paul stood planted in the same spot you had left him, shattered. What had he done?

He felt a small hand on his shoulder, a feminine voice in his ear,

"Maybe it was for the better. She seems like a total bitch."

Paul's blood turned cold. It was as if in that very moment, he had come to his senses. The smoke had cleared in his crowded mind. You were right. Of course you were right. All the stress that had been on his plate, he hadn't been thinking clearly at all.

He came to realization now, and it was too late.

Paul yanked away his arm, turning with a fury in his eyes to the woman behind him. She shrunk back under his gaze, feigning an innocence he knew good and well was all fake.

He trembled with anger, barely registering that Sam was now in between him and the girl. Paul pointed a finger at her, teeth gritting with anger.

"Get. The FUCK. Away from me."

Paul ripped apart as he phased, having it bottled up for far too long, and dashing off like a mad man into the woods.

The woman gaped like a fish, starting to babble, turning to Sam for reassurance.

"I didn't do anything I-"

Sam huffed a breath through his nose, "You heard him. I think it would be best if you left. Embry's cousin or not, you are no longer welcome here. That's an order."

Sam shook his head, running a hand through his hair as she stormed off. He felt guilty for letting it get like this. He had some suspicions about her joining the pack, seeing as she was always gravitating towards Paul, but he had shrugged it off, too occupied with everything else going on.

Sam also knew too well what it was like to hurt an imprint. Physically or emotionally, the bond felt all the same. Strict alpha or not, he valued Paul as a brother, and just hoped you would come back for him.

-

As Paul laid his head onto his pillow, he watched the days go by before him. Being forced to come eat dinner by Emily and whenever he had patrol were just about the only times Paul left his bed. He would call you once a day, sometimes with a small hope you'd answer, and sometimes just to hear your voicemail. After his patrol shifts ended, he would often sneak off to your house, just to make sure he'd know you were safe, if even from a mile away.

-

"Do you think she'll ever come back?" Kim asked Jared quietly one day, after watching Paul barely eat his food and sulk back up to his room.

"I don't know honestly. Y/N is just as stubborn as he is. But I do miss him. I've never in my life seen Paul like this. His internal thoughts are depressing as hell..."

Kim sighed, "It's not like she's doing any better. She finally answered my call yesterday, and I had to double check who I was talking too. She's miserable, Jare."

He shrugged, "I mean what can we do about it babe? You can't get involved in people's business like that."

"They're not people. They're family." She mumbled as she clutched her coffee mug.

-

Another week had gone by, the pack all sitting in the kitchen getting ready to eat.

"Boys. We have information on the new vampires in town," Sam announced as he walked through the door with Jacob.

"They're after Bella. She had a run in with that red head we keep chasing to the border every night. Her boyfriend had tried to kill her so the Cullen's killed him, and now this bitch is assembling an army to take her out for revenge." Jacob relayed.

This grabbed Paul's attention. If they were after your sister, that meant you were in danger.

"We're going to help them fight. Our people are at risk if we let this get out of hand, or if the Cullen's lose. But until the army comes here, we're going to be sharing shifts with them to watch over the Swan house," Sam said, looking at Paul who was heading out the door.

"Paul."

"You can watch Bella from a distance. I'm taking my imprint home," he slammed the front door.

"I can't imagine that's gonna go good." Embry mumbled.

-

Your body jolted upright from the couch at the abrupt knocking on the front door. You hadn't been expecting anyone, Bella out doing who knows what with Edward, and Charlie hours away on a fishing trip.

Opening the door your breath caught in your throat.

"What are you doing here?"

"We have to go. Now." He said sternly, ignoring your bewildered look as he flew past you and up the stairs to your room.

"And just who the hell do you think you are?!" You stormed after him, appalled he was barging in your house like this.

"There's an entire army of vampires on the hunt for your sister. You're not safe here, I'm taking you to Emily's." he said as he grabbed a suitcase and started throwing random clothes in.

"You don't own me Paul Lahote. I'm not going anywhere with you." You crossed your arms as you looked at him incredulously.

He refused to look you in the eye as he spoke, his breathing heavy from your scent,

"It is still my job to protect you whether we're together or not. You don't have to talk to me at all if you don't want too, and you can sleep in the spare bedroom" He said as he continued to pack.

You laughed.

"Come to Emily's with her there? I think the fuck-"

"She's not there anymore."

"Ohhhh so because she's gone you care about me again."

He stopped, this time turning to look you in the eyes for the first time in two weeks.

"Don't you ever fucking say that. I could give a shit less about her. It's always been you. I'm....look, I'm sorry I didn't make you believe that before. You were right. And I was so unbelievably wrong. I understand why you don't want to be with me anymore. I'm not asking you to forgive me. Im asking, just for the time being, that you do this so that I know you are safe....please."

You wish you could have stopped the tears that welled up in your eyes. A part of you wanted to stay mad forever, just to make a point. But the other just wanted to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. Two weeks felt like two years apart from him, and your heart so desperately ached to be near him again.

"Fine," you whispered.

Paul looked like he wanted to say something more, his eyes lingering on yours, but he decided against it, zipping up your bag and heading to the truck.

-

Once you both arrived to Emily's the pack headed out to train with the Cullen's, leaving you both and Kim at the kitchen table.

"So you guys.....didn't make up?" Kim asked disappointed.

You shook your head, "He just wanted me here. He apologized and said he wanted me to be safe. It was left at that."

Emily reached her hand over into yours,

"Do you want to be with him?" She asked genuinely.

"I.....I mean," you sighed. "Of course I want to be with him. I just was so angry, you know?? I didn't like feeling that way in our relationship. Alone."

The girls nodded understandably.

"If it helps, he's been an absolute wreck without you. I think if anything it was a wake up call." Kim offered.

"I haven't been exactly living the best either," you slightly chuckled.

"Well. We are more than excited to have you back in the house. That being said, I'm going to need both of your help with dinner." Emily smiled as she looked at the clock, standing up.

You grinned, happy to at least be here with your friends.

-

It was the night before the fight. Everything was quiet, but you lie awake, your mind racing. You hadn't said much to Paul in the three days you were here. There were lingering stares, brushing past eachother occasionally in the hall, but no conversations had been had. You felt a pit in your stomach at the idea of this fight. What if something happened and you never got to see him again? What if the last thing you had between you two was this awkward tension? The more you thought about it, the faster the tears spilled down your cheeks. You sniffled hard.

A gentle knock at the door startled you, getting up you frantically tried to wipe them away.

There he stood on the other side, leaning against the frame. His eyes looked so exhausted, like he hadn't gotten sleep either in days. "Whats wrong?" He said softly, taking a look at your face.

His gentle voice was enough to send you flying into his embrace. You arms wrapped around him as you sobbed into his neck.

He held your waist as he walked you both backwards into the room, shutting the door. His hand caressed your face as he leaned his cheek on your forehead.

"Hey, hey. Shhhh. I'm right here. It's okay. You're okay. You're safe."

You leaned back just enough to look at him, shaking your head. Your voice was broken and trembling,

"I-I don't care that I'm safe. T-tomorrow. A-and you. What if we never-"

Paul used both hands to cradle your face.

"Hey. Listen to me. Everything will be okay. This is what we've been training for. It's us and the Cullen's against them, our numbers are stronger. I'll be fine, alright? I'm just happy you're here and away from harm."

"I can't live without you. I love you." You whispered.

Paul instantly kissed you. It was like a wave of relief and happiness washed over you as you kissed him back with every ounce of passion you could muster.

Both your tongues danced as you refused to pull away from eachother. Paul bent down only for a moment to hoist you up in his arms, taking you into his room instead.

Unfortunately due to advanced hearing, the house was no longer quiet that night.

[dreamauri]

Hey girl, if you have the time please could I get charles x fem. Maybe she’s going through a phase where she’s not sleeping very well and exhausted and the Ferrari boys literally find her passed out in the weirdest places 🏎️ thank you x

♪ — 𝗦𝗡𝗢𝗢𝗭 charles leclerc x fem! reader (fluff) “. . . You gain a reputation for your unusual sleeping habits as you travel.”

( general master list | more of charles leclerc ) ( requests | taglist )

Imagine the excitement of Formula 1 world, a chapter filled with adrenaline-fueled action and constant competition on the track. On the other hand. You, amidst the fast paced weekends, are snoozing around the track, catching Zzz.

Your playground is the Formula 1 paddock, and while others are engrossed in the chaos, you find comfort in the most unlikely of locations.

Being the cheeky pair that they are, Carlos and Charles decide to keep track of your peculiar sleeping locations and turn it into a game of "Where will we find you next?"

And taking it to the extent as your self proclaimed "best friend" ( he's crushing on you hard please take the hint ), Charles Leclerc has a designated Instagram highlight, just for you sleeping around in the weirdest places possible.

"Mate!" Carlos called, trying to hold in his laugh. Charles, who has been avidly searching for you for the past thirty minutes, is at loss for words when he sees you sleeping on a random table face down, top half hanging off.Charles looks away trying to hide his smile. "Oh, Mon Dieu." [my god]. "I have to take a picture." Carlos laughed, taking his phone out. In attempt to save you from any further embarrassment, Charles walked towards you, trying to nudge you awake. but to not avail. "I got this, I got this." Carlos ran up to them with an air horn. "Mate dont-" it was too late. Charles was not quick enough o stop Chili. They both watched you stumble and fall forward off the table in shock. "Whered you even get that." Charles looked up at Carlos sighing. You looked up at the two boys, with tired angry eyes. "Run." You said simply making the two Ferrari boys run away immediately, fear stricken in their eyes.

@charles_leclerc posted on his story

seen by landonorris carlossainz55 and 52M others

But it doesn't stop there. Throughout the season, your knack for finding peace in the most unconventional places becomes legendary. You're discovered snoozing in the engineering office, leaning against the SF23, or even draped over a folding chair in the media centre.

Each time, Charles manages to capture the moment, sharing it with his fans on social media, much to everyone's amusement.

As the paddock becomes your bedroom, Charles becomes your self-appointed sleep guardian. He's always on the lookout, ensuring you have a comfy blanket to enhance your slumber. It became his mission to create a haven for you amidst the chaotic world of racing, a place where you can find serenity.

"There you are." Charles mumbles as he finally found you, sleeping on piles and stacks of tires, like it was the most comfortable thing in the world. He disappeared for a second before coming back with a pillow from his drivers room.He crouched down beside you, gently cupping the back of your head and lifting you up to place the plush material under your head. A groan emitted from your mouth, making Charles freeze in panic. Last time he woke you up, it did not end well for him.Once he was sure you were back to sleep, he gently lowered your head onto the pillow, taking his rain jacket off and draping it over your body. "Rest well, Mon amour." He mumbled, wiping a few droplets of rain of your cheek.He was sitting beside you on the floor when you woke up, going through his phone. "Bonjour." [good morning] He hummed, his green coloured eyes crinkling with a smile when he looked at you. You let out a tired hum in acknowledgment, playing with a random string from the jacket. Charles held up a cup of your favourite drink, which he was waiting to give you since he found it. You looked up at him, only meeting eyes with his loving gaze.

-

"I found Miss Snooze!" Charles shouted over the radio, it was FP2 and you were passed out on a random chair beside a camera man. Like the gentle man he is, Charles went back to the garage, got you your favourite pillow and one of his Ferrari jackets ( he could've gotten you a blanket but he wanted you to have something from his, it made his heart flutter when you wore it ). Once he reached you, he parked his car and jumped out, jogging to your side and giving you the premium comfort you deserved. Giving the camera a thumbs up before jumping back in the car.Although he didn't have his phone to take a photo this time, the camera man made sure to capture the whole thing for him.

Charles' dream finally came true when he found himself taking a nap beside you on a pile of race suits. Carlos was the one to snap the photo, a picture to keep for the blooming relationship.

[sgiandubh]

The door faces North

This has been, by far, one of the most complex investigations I have ever done in this fandom, and I am truly sorry for the long wait I had to inflict on many of you & for the uncharacteristic radio silence in DMs and comments. During this peculiar journey, I checked, double-checked and cross-checked as many details as I could and I carefully considered at least two different theories, of which I still think they do not exclude each other. I am now confident enough to make not only an educated guess, but also a daring bet on SRH's next whisky move.

Also, sorry for the length of this post. Truly sorry - think of the completely pulverized night sleep I had to give up, in order to bring this to you.

But first, a word on Marple's obvious PR tip on the Hopetoun Estate refurbishment and distillery old/new project. I am fair game enough to tell you the obvious: her overall recounting of the principals is roughly correct, spare perhaps one or two minor details. Correct, but dry - she limits herself to the technical documentation submitted by Golden Decanters and The Hopetoun Estates Trust to the West Lothian Council for approval. She correctly points out that S is not a visible part of the deal, at this point in time and she does a decent summing up of a very, very, VERY plethoric amount of bureaucratic information. She concludes, and I think she is partially right, that he might be interested in becoming an investor (I am taking things a bit further, though). But in doing so, she focuses on the development phase of the project only: the possible connections with SRH and his own spirits business are less, if at all, obvious.

I am going to give you my view of all this charade and, if I am going to mention (and probably repeat) some things already found by her, I am going to focus on the people: this is where the whole story starts to become remarkably interesting, at least to me. After all, I remember promising you some more clarity. Here's an honest, fair play take.

Little did I know, when I started to write about that (now defunct) company, Midhope Castle Distillery, Ltd (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/748597198794670080/the-info-provided-above-is-correct-but-outdated?source=share), that my investigation would turn to this:

... for it was to be just an almost random layer of a juggernaut matryoshka of defunct or still active companies, featuring roughly the same people and no less than 6 different name combinations centered around Midhope, Hopetoun, etc.

The following pics will give you an idea - feel free to open them in a separate tab, for clarity . I preferred this synthetic approach, because otherwise you will curse the shite out of me. But it had to be done, with or without Depon, Advil's Greek cousin (and before you ask a graphologist, this is my handwriting, and nobody else's 🙃):

The only explanation for the whole almost frantic Midhope/Hopetoun crisscross/hopscotch (LOL) combos I can think of is two people trying to secure one (several?) credit lines or to attract significant investors for their project and ultimately failing to do so. But I might be wrong (although I doubt that, thank you). Out of this entire maze ( I swear I now have a migraine), there are only two active companies remaining: Golden Decanters Ltd (renamed GD Spirits Ltd, in April 2022) and Midhope Ltd (renamed Skosk Ltd, in July 2023). It is on them I am going to focus my gaze.

GD Spirits Ltd was incorporated in Berwick-upon-Tweed, England (just across the Scottish border), probably for tax reasons, on March 11, 2015, the nature of its business being listed as 'wholesale of wine, beer, spirits, etc.'. It started with a team of two women: Julia Mackenzie-Gillanders and Ann Medlock, whose names we are going to see over and over again in all the eight corporate avatars. Later down the timeline (LOL for three decades and a half), on January 30, 2018, they were briefly (until July 19, 2018) joined by two very interesting professionals: Mrs. Margaret Boswell, an attorney at the very prestigious international law firm Gide Loyrette Nouel (Paris and London offices)...

...and Ken Robertson, former Corporate Affairs Director at Diageo Whisky, a subsidiary of the international Diageo group, one of the major players on the world spirits' market:

The second company, Skosk Ltd, was incorporated in August 2021, in Perth, Scotland, its nature of business being listed as 'distilling, rectifying and blending of spirits', with the clear intention to align with the exacting criteria prescribed by the 2009 Scotch Whisky Regulations:

[ Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scotch_whisky - sorry, I don't have time to wax lyrical on this, and neither do you]

This time, we only meet again the two distillerettes, Gillanders and Medwick. Up until now, at least, nobody else (attorney, former sales executive, whisky expert) has joined the platoon - TBC? I would not speculate and leave all options open.

There is little to 0 transparency on Skosk's financial situation, at the moment and to be honest, it looks very much like S's co-star (hehe)'s Irish business venture...

... but I was a bit more lucky, and the numbers more chatty, as far as GD Spirits was concerned:

Paging all shipper chartered accountants out there, but to me, it doesn't look great, at the moment. Cash is ridiculous, the net worth is hemorrhaging and the current assets are negligible, compared to 2020, when I think they managed to secure one or two credit lines, but not nearly enough for what they needed. Just enough to pay themselves and their external consultants and cover the operating costs, if you ask me.

The revised Planning Statement, of 8 February 2024, posted first by Marple, echoes my initial guess (COVID blew it up, see link to the first post) and the above assessment:

Mark this: 'Discussions are now proceeding with investors and there is a realistic prospect that work will begin in the near future (2024/2025) to implement the permission.' Given that they will start with the road and parking rehabilitation and upgrading, probably overlapping with the distillery building, it would make sense to begin this autumn at the earliest, with the most urgent: access to the site itself.

The initial Planning Statement, dated 9 July 2020 and re-posted on March 21st, 2024, tells a more detailed story. This is part and parcel of the current project as well, since the revision is just pointing out the changes operated, not the entire rest, which remains unchanged. You be the judge:

Also keep in mind this tiny, tiny thing: the Business Plan is 'submitted (...) under Private and Confidential Cover'. See where I am looking?

The initial plan was (and still is) for GD Spirits to produce their own booze, using Midhope's own barley (this is very important for the rest of my theory!). They even offer an overview of the real impact of their project on the local economy:

20 to 38 initial new job creations for a £ 15 to 30 million investment is not 'huge', madam Marple. Cumbernauld is huge. This? This is rather modest, if you ask me. But hey, what do I know about the labor market, right?

That initial Statement tells also the story they want to tell about the genesis of their idea, the scouting for the right location and a couple of other interesting details:

So they are telling us they started to look for the perfect location in 2018 and oh, hello, they found the Hopetoun Estate rather quickly, already starting the pre-planning application consultations as early as July 2019 (don't get me started, please):

If so, then why did they incorporate not one, but two different companies clearly linking them to the Estate (Hopetoun Estate Distillery Ltd and Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd) the same day and as early as May 23rd 2017 (and both dissolved in December 2022), as my above penciled timeline (LOOOOOL) shows? Who is really behind this project and why this entire ballet? It's like me pre-emptively looking for rental properties in (let's randomly guess) Lisbon, when it's just wishful thinking, heavily projecting and with 0 guarantees I will be posted there, right? I mean, I adore and deeply know Lisbon and I would be thrilled to go there. But I am not currently looking for any rental property, just like that, because that would be a #silly, rookie mistake. In their case, I think there's a different situation - again, you be the judge.

A first answer, as to who is really behind that project, was given by the UK media, back in 2020:

How odd, when we know that both Mrs. Boswell, the well-traveled attorney and Mr. Robertson resigned from GD Spirits in July 2018. Do they still say hi to the two distillerettes? Do they quietly keep an eye on the project? Are they silent partners? Business angels? Shareholders? Time to remind you that under UK law, there is 0 visibility on the shareholder's structure of a company. You just see the officers (Director, Secretary, etc), on the Company House website. On an umpteenth, last- second cross-check, it became apparent that Mr. Robertson remained involved in another company of the distillerettes, Hopetoun Estate Whiskies Ltd (yes, the one mentioned above), until its voluntary strike-off, in December 2022.

Their best laid plans do mention OL, and how could it be otherwise? But all this £ 15 to 30 million hullaballoo for 20.000 people only (who counted them and how?), on a seasonal basis?

High-end restaurant, luxury B&B, event spaces, you name it. Interesting, to say the least.

And, for the people in the back, who still think SRH has a 100 years lease at Midhope (Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, the stupidity!):

This is why he commented as a 'member of the public'. At face value, there is no public involvement into that project. Yet. But it is my belief there is a vested interest in all this, justifying the comment, the visit, those papers rolled in his fist, etc. At first, I thought that was a visit to Lallybroch by the Exec Producer of OL's Season 8, to discuss technicalities - and shared that privately with a wonderful friend only. I mean, why not and still perfectly possible. But then, as I could not sleep tonight and felt guilty to have you all waiting, I started to connect some tiny dots.

Like this one, for a start:

Yes, I know, Marple told you that FIRST, I would not dare say otherwise, because if I did there would be a transcontinental screech. That trademark application was filed at the US Patent and Trade Office in September 2023 and I thought (and still partially do) it was a potential rebranding solution to The Sassenach's EUIPO nightmare (much exaggerated by the fandom's toothbrush experts):

But you also know I am an idiot and I always check people's CVs, when I follow a thread. This morning, the one Distillerette I am particularly interested in is Mrs. Julia Hall-Mackenzie-Gillanders (née Scales) and not like *urv would be.

Her LinkedIn profile is exceptionally talkative, too:

... and a BA (with Honors) in Fashion Design, class of 2005, at the Northumbria University.

The Financial Times article 'From packing boxes to wine deals worth millions', you can read on her LinkedIn page, tells a very interesting story. It is the story of a shy underdog (lots of temple bells clinging, at the moment), who made it by sheer persistence. It starts like this:

'When a painfully shy young woman contacted a fine wine merchant and said ' I have no qualifications- can I help?', she got the job and today is signing deals worth millions of pounds.'

It obviously did ring a bell and if SRH knows she exists (she is married, *urv!), and I dare to speculate he does, it must have struck a deep chord. Would I do business with her? I wouldn't speculate, although I am not very sure. Would he? He'd probably listen very carefully to what she has to pitch, for a start.

And what she has to pitch is also very interesting, in his world. A brief look at the Golden Decanters' website shows a first high-end single malt sourced collection of 4 exceptional expressions already sold out:

And when they mean high-end, they mean gold leaf labelling and all the tralala:

And, some last minute news, too:

Remind me, because I am an old woman, after this white night: wasn't The Sassenach (no comment, we agree to disagree and I am very skeptical), a blend?

We have these dots, then:

Bold Underdog ->spirits business->high-end collection of single malts sold out->business partnership with owners of Midhope Castle, fictional Lallybroch in OL, including a distillery and whisky production with Midhope/Lallybroch barley -> visit by the male lead and spirits entrepreneur (also the fictional Lallybroch laird) to Midhope/Lallybroch and vested interest in the estate's most recent business project....

What if The Sassenach would be included, for a start, in that new Blended Collection? And could it really be fanfic to imagine a future high-end, limited edition, Lallybroch whisky produced at Midhope, with Midhope/Lallybroch barley? It wouldn't be the first time, would it: after all, they did it with that limited tequila batch.

As I said, because I am (remember Someone? LOL) a 'silly cow', I was hoping he wouldn't do it. But my guess is he might very well do exactly that, with those people and under that label.

It's half past eight AM, local time and I need a strong, black coffee.

I rest my case (and I am bracing myself for the screeching). I will answer Anons later, after I come back from the hairdresser's. Appointments must be kept at all costs. Thank you all for your patience.

[lordgrimwing]

Circa early TA 2500

Celebrían loves her star-dust husband. 

She’d loved him since she first saw him—or felt something special at least, even if it had taken her a few years to realize the depth of those feelings. She hadn’t said anything at first, of course; neither had he, though it wasn’t long into their courtship before he admitted (blushing and so sweetly shy for someone nearly four hundred years her senior) as much to her. She’d stayed silent at first because she thought it was a youthful fancy, something she would forget after a few months of knowing and working beside him, and later because he was her mother’s dear friend and Galadriel certainly would not approve (she’d been wrong on that last point, at least once her mother got used to the idea). Now, there was nothing stopping her from sharing her love every day, every moment.

He had an ageless kind of quality about him. His agelessness went beyond the classical elven beauty that went unchanged by time as the centuries rolled ever onward. At first, she was hard pressed to describe precisely what that meant. After so many years of watching how his body changed with the passing time in a way no elf’s ever would, she found the words: he was ageless as the constellations; ageless as the stars that shone before the sun and the moon, before the Trees or the Lamps; ageless as Ilúvatar’s Music.

And sometimes, the divine shines through.

***

Celebrían and Elrond are in bed; she is sitting, sketching the crescent moon as it sails toward the far end of the hidden valley while he sleeps beside her. The short summer night is a few hours away from drawing the nocturnal orchestra to a close, and she listens as the sounds of birds and insects shifts toward diurnal patterns. Her charcoal whispers as she drags it softly over the linen page, filling in the last details.

She has many pages filled with drawings like this one. She never grows tired of the view across Imladris from her bed, and she likes to have a little something to keep er hands occupied on nights when she wishes to stay with her husband but has no need of sleep herself. She will show him the sketch when he wakes and tell him all about the pair of bats that play-chased each other outside while she worked.

The mattress shifts. Her hand stills as she looks over at Elrond.

He is still asleep, dark hair pooled around his head. Stars blink in his hair, weaving in and out of existence with each breath as they are so want to do these days when he cannot be troubled to hide them (it hadn’t been like that when they married. Back then, if he did not choose to share his light then it stayed hidden under his skin for the most part, and when he came to Ereinion’s court, he could not choose one way or the other, it merely happened—sometimes at very inopportune moments, which she wishes she could have seen). He sighs in his sleep and twitches.

She watches. Mannish sleep is cyclical, she’s learned, guessing he is entering the phase when his body can move but is not ready to wake up yet. She spent many nights charting the peculiar cycle and knows it well. He should wake in about an hour, perhaps an hour and a half if they are lucky. His sleep had been troubled as of late, and she’d hoped her presence would deter whatever half-forgotten memories were plaguing his rest. She sooths the back of her hand across his forehead as his breath speeds up, brushing their fëar together as she does to share the calmness of her spirit.

He seems to settle after that. For a minute, she thinks that is the end of it, that all will stay calm until he wakes, rested and happy.

Celebrían should know better by now than to tempt Doom, but she is ever optimistic.

A minute draws into two draws into five. She turns back to her drawing, picking up the charcoal stick.

A twitch of his arm and a shiver against her fëa are the only warnings before Elrond is struggling back into wakefulness, gasping like one half-drowned and fighting against the sheets to escape their confines.

Art entirely discarded, she turns back to him, pulling the bed cover down as he blinks, unfocused and shaking. Light pours from behind star-strewn eyes, leaks from the lines in his skin as he sits up. Fireflies flash in each ragged exhale. In the panicked moments between sleep and full consciousness, his elven veneer is thin and brittle.

“Elrond,” she murmurs to him. When she reaches for him, she finds his fëa has completely retreated behind thorny defenses thicker than any briar growing in Middle-earth. She doesn’t touch him yet; his heart is beating like that of a panicked deer, and she may only startle him further. “Peace, Elrond. Peace. I am here.”

Words and spirit infused with all the calm assurance and love she could pour into them, she let her presence wash over him, gentle and safe.

“Celebrían?” The whispered word comes out of his mouth half broken on a sob and repeats off the walls as though they are in a cavern. He reaches out blindly for her.

She takes his hands in hers. “Yes, love, I’m here. We are in Imladris. All is well.”

He repeats her name as he cries. Relief so thick it’s almost cloying fills the space around them. She tries to hug him, but he grips her hands tighter to stop her from moving them away from his. Instead, she rests her chin on his head, tucking him against her as she murmurs sweet nothing to him until he calms. Stars prick her skin like forgotten needles.

“Was it Sight?” She asked at last when he’d dried his face and was no longer leaking light like it would all burst out of him at any moment.

“A nightmare,” he says firmly, resolutely. He repeats the words again with a shudder.

“Of the children?”

It isn’t uncommon when Elladan and Elrohir went off traveling, as they were now, for Elrond’s sleeping mind to mix the twins into his memories of things that had or might have happened to his own twin brother and himself in war-torn Beleriand. Arwen, too, is not spared from his terrors. The great evils of that time are long banished, but that detail is easily forgotten in the throes of a nightmare.

“Orcs,” he shudders but tells her no more.

She refrains from pushing him. She knows he will tell her more if needed to rid himself of the last of the dream. She strokes his stary hair as they sit entwined, waiting for the sun to rise.

[anomaly-hivemind]

Monster in the Garden ☆ Ryomen Sukuna x Cinderella | Kinktober Day 13

Summary: Cinderella finally has her happily every after, but why exactly isn't he happy? After getting tired of her wedding banquet sh steps outside and comes face to face with a special guest, accept he's not there for the wedding, he's there for her.

Word Count: 3399

Tags:Overstimulation, dumbification, vaginal sex, rough sex, true form Sukuna, One-sided Cinderella x Prince Charming, slight exhibitionism, slight voyeurism, cuckolding, infidelity, biting, coercion, major character death, manipulation, dubcon, ooc sukuna (mostly in Cinderella’s imagination), double penetration in one hole, creampie 

Shining blonde hair, a silvery blue dress that looked almost magical, and an aura of grace. All eyes were on the mystery girl that just walked in, the prince wanted to go to her, however he was occupied by another woman.  Across the ballroom, another was drawn to the beautiful woman. The young king Ryomen Sukuna approached the girl, disregarding the man whom he had been conversing with. 

“Dance with me,” Cinderella, despite having never gone to a ball, was certain that demanding a dance was not the proper way to ask, she didn’t care, all she wanted was to dance.

“Alright,” She took his hand and joined the dance. As they danced and swayed together Sukuna couldn’t tear his eyes away from the blonde. She smelled so heavenly, he wanted nothing more than to rip open her flesh and devour her right now. However something was stopping him, there was something peculiar about her. When she looked back at him, she smiled.

“Why are you not afraid?” Sukuna asked, looking down at the woman. She looked a bit confused by his question before smiling.

“What’s there to fear?” She asked, smiling at the man. 

She was such a peculiar woman, Sukuna opened his mouth to say something however before he could the dance ended and she was approached by the prince and swept away from him. Sukuna could take her back if he wanted, he could slaughter everyone here in two seconds flat, however, he refrained from doing so. Why? He couldn’t really say. 

He didn’t stay much longer, snatched up one of the women blathering on about how “dreamy” the prince was for a little midnight snack then dipped out. 

As so she just happened to hear later on the mysterious beauty didn’t stay long either. Sukuna accepted that he would probably never see the girl again.

------------------------------------------

The prince was pretty forward with his intentions, he wanted to marry her, she may have been living like a commoner but despite him being deceased, she was still the daughter of a duke. Their courtship was short, and their engagement was also considerably shorter than most. Ella wanted a longer engagement however she was urged to agree to a shorter one at the behest of her fiance and to be father-in-law. 

So here she was, not much more than a year later when she had snuck out to go to the ball, on her wedding day. 

She figured that even after everyone discovered that she was the mystery girl from the ball her step-mother would still pitch a fit, however, the older woman was oddly complacent. Cinderella figured that she was just using it as a way to elevate her own daughters.

The preparations seemed to drag on and she often let her mind wander, it usually went to the man she danced with first, that fateful night. He was just so… intriguing. She wasn’t all that phased by things others might consider odd after meeting her fairy godmother. So what if he had two sets of eyes and strange tattoos, he had held her in his strong arms and gazed so passionately into her eyes. She had to admit that she had been a bit disappointed that they only danced together once. Oftentimes she imagined what it would've been like if he had come back to dance with her. 

Maybe she’d be dancing with the prince and he’d come up and take her away, and he’d gallantly fight to be the one to dance with her, but of course, the prince wouldn’t take that so they’d have a gentlemen's duel, and the man would win, but he wouldn’t kill the prince of course, he might’ve been a bit abrasive but she was sure he was a gentleman deep down. 

Then he’d whisk her away into a night of passion and he’d call her name with that [rugged] voice of his.

Ella…

Ella.

“Ella!” The prince called knocking her out of her daydreams.

“Yes,” she said looking at her fiance.

“Do you like the menu for the banquet?” He asked, Cinderella looked back down at the paper detailing the food for their wedding banquet.

“Oh it looks great,” She said. The food was fine she supposed, she wasn’t going to be able to eat much thanks to her dress’ corset anyway. 

One of the advisors came in with a list of names from what Cinderella could see and the man had a worried expression on his face. The tightness of his brows pinned together only accentuates his advanced age.

“Your Highness, I just like to clarify whether or not you’d like to extend an invitation to…him.” The Prince, seemingly knowing whom the advisor was referring to grimaced, Ella could see his jaw clenching as he put a fist to his chin, pondering over whether to invite this mystery man.

“If I may ask who’s invitation is being debated over?” Cinderella asked with a small curiosity.

The prince sighed before looking towards her. “He’s a sorcerer from the east, they call him the king of curses, Ryomen Sukuna. He has four arms and two mouths. Here he’s treated like a foreign dignitary to an extent but that’s only because of his immense power. If we don’t invite him it could be seen as an insult, but I don't want him anywhere near us.

“Well I certainly don’t know much about this man, however, it seems like it would cause trouble if we didn’t send an invitation, and besides, he may not even come,” Ella explained, what she didn’t say however was that she figured no one could be that horrible, and that everyone deserves to be treated with kindness. This Ryomen Sukuna had done nothing to her, she had no reason to dislike him as of yet.

------------------------------------------

Wedding preparation continued in a blur along with lessons in etiquette, music, art, and any other lessons needed to become a royal consort.  Soon enough the fateful day arrived, they had already signed the marriage contract. Her step-sisters acted like they were the ones becoming a part of the royal family while at the same time being salty. So that was what she expected, and her stepmother pivoted from acting like a dutiful mother to trying to mingle with nobles so she could advance her daughter's station. 

The marriage ceremony was elegant and went off without a hitch. She supposed she was happy to be getting married to the prince, however she didn’t quite feel happy. Everyone around her said she must be so ecstatic. That she was so lucky to have such a charming, attractive, kind husband, or that she from a fallen noble family could rise to be a Duchess Consort. Little did they know Ella didn’t care about any of that, all she wanted was love. To love and to be loved in return.

The food she could taste was good, and the octet played wonderfully, however, she couldn’t help being all but a bit bored. So she slipped past everyone and ventured out into the garden. She walked around for a bit before stopping in front of what she thought must have been the most beautiful flower in the world. Its pale white petals seemed to glow under the early moonlight.

A looming shadow clouded over her, it was twice her size and filled her with an intimidating presence. Cinderella quickly whips herself around, the sight before catches her very off guard.  

The man who stood before her had a menacingly graceful appearance. His piercing red eyes cast down on her frame, filling her with something unknown. He felt familiar to her the second she got a look at the giant before her. There weren't a lot of people around with those tattoos or with two sets of eyes.  She takes a small step back from him, just to get a better look at him fully. 

“Is it you? Right? The man I danced with at the ball?” Ella questioned, the man simply stood there unblinking.

“So your name is Ryomen Sukuna?”

Sukuna furrowed an eyebrow as he looked down at the blonde woman, who was much shorter than he. “Yeah, you didn’t know who I was the last time, did you?”

Cinderella simply nodded.

“Are you afraid now?” 

Cinderella thought about his question for a moment, before she eventually shook her head. ”No, you’ve given me no reason to fear you. Do you want me to be afraid?” Sukuna didn’t answer her question. They stood there in a bit of an awkward silence before she spoke again.

“Thank you for coming, in truth I didn’t think you would come.”

“I didn’t come to congratulate you on some stupid wedding, I came for you”

“Excuse me? “ she said softly, almost feeling like she didn’t hear him correctly. 

He doesn't say anything to correct himself from his brazen comment, and he doesn't repeat it. Sukuna takes a step closer to her, his gaze feeling all the more intense as she watches his fingers twitch. 

“You heard me”  his face rested at a slight scowl as he took one of her hands in his. She let him take it, looking up at the firm yet gentle grip of his hand which enveloped her own. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and the more I thought about you the more it pissed me off. Why is a weakling like you occupying so much of my mind? Then I got this stupid wedding invitation and that only served to piss me off even more.”

His grip loosened if only for a moment before tightening again.

Ella was speechless and a bit worried. What was she supposed to say in this situation?

“I only came to take you away, so let's go,”

“B-but I’m married..” 

“Marriage here is finalized by sex right, seeing as your out here, I guess I’ll just have to fuck you before he does, then you’ll be my woman.” He grabs her wrist, a sinister grin on his face. He was really serious about this, she thought. 

Cinderella felt her heart thumping in her chest, she was married to a charming prince and she was finally away from her stepmother. Why did she want to give all that up just for a chance with this man? 

Before she could reply Sukuna ripped her dress open. She looked in a sharp breath as her skin was exposed to the cool air.

He moved to line his cocks to her wet entrance contemplating if, at some point, he could fill her cunt with both his cocks. He paused for a moment, savoring the moment, looking into her eyes. He wanted her to know just how much he wanted her, how much he desired her. He wanted to see the conflicting emotions, the desire in her eyes. 

Cinderella grips the collars of grass with frightful anticipation. "Please be gentle"

He smiled as he heard her request. He loved the way she looked at him, the way she trembled under his touch. He knew that she was at his mercy, and he was going to make sure that Cinderella knew. Sukuna pushes one thick cock all the way inside her until their hips meet.  Her eyes widened from the new feeling his cock was stretching her cunt; it almost brought tears to her eyes. He grinned as he felt her tightness, letting out a groan at the feeling of her hot cunt clenching around his cock.

He savored the moment, relishing in the power he had over her. He could feel her walls stretch around him, accommodating his size, and he loved every second of it and that you were trying to hold back tears. Although he couldn't bring himself to care too much. He gets ready to push his other cock inside her already-filled hole. Ella's body tensed, and her pussy squeezed him tightly so that he thought that she was going to suffocate his cocks. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing hard as tears ran down her face slowly, almost gracefully. She looked up at him with gentle yet wet eyes. He was so long and thick she could barely handle it.

He had expected far more resistance, but she seemed more than willing to give herself to him. He looked at her with a mix of surprise and concern. Her chest heaved as she got used to the massive stretch that was Sukuna.

“It's okay… and I think you can move now."  Cinderella wraps her arms around him, pulling him closer to her body.

Sukuna shuddered as he felt her arms around him. He knew that he should feel relieved, but he also felt weak under her touch. He had never been held like this before, and he wasn't sure how to react to the warm, gentle feeling it gave him. He rested his chin against her shoulder, sinking his teeth into the skin, causing her to let out a winced moan.

"See, you’re already taking my cock; there’s no going back to your prince now. Hope you can handle a little weight, princess,”  he said quietly, his voice rough. He nodded and almost rested his full weight on top of her, careful not to crush her. He knew that he was heavy, but he wanted her to feel his presence, to feel his body weight pressing down on her.

Sukuna started to slowly thrust into her, savoring the soft warmth and tightness of her entrance. He closed his eyes and let out a low groan as he worked his two cocks into her. He lets his hips rock gently over her as he continues to push deeper inside Ella. His hands slid down her back until they reached her ass, squeezing tightly and pulling you closer to him. She let out soft, breathy moans as he stuffs her to the brim. 

He couldn't help but smirk at the sight of her enjoyment. Seeing her squirm beneath him to get used to his cocks, it filled him with a sense of power and control he hadn't known before. 

He quickened his pace as he got ready to pound harder into Cinderella while one hand slipped up to cup her breast, kneading the flesh roughly.  He runs his tongue against her nipple, teasing the bud with his sharp teeth. He stabs his teeth into her chest and lets it break the skin. He sucked on her breasts, pulling against her flesh before switching to do the same with the other. Sukuna used one of his other hands to push her tits together and slurp up her nipples together in his mouth, flicking his hot tongue against the sensitive numbs. He looked down at her, his eyes staring intently into her blue ones. 

"Say my name," he commanded, his voice harsh and hoarse. "I want to hear you say it, princess.” 

"Su…ku…na" she said his name between moans.He felt a rush of possessiveness run through his body, hearing Ella say his name, in the middle of this act, it made him feel as if he finally did something special. He leaned down, his lips hovering over her, whispering gruffly.

“Again. Say it again.”

Through a weak voice she muttered his name against, her fingernails digging into his skin. He could hardly stand the sound of his name on her lips, the way she cried out to him. Ryomen was lost in the sounds her dripping pussy made as it sucked in his two cocks. He had never heard his name said with such delicious devotion before, and he found himself wanting to make her say it even more.   He uses his other set of hands to move from her ass to her hip, holding her tightly, tracing a bite mark he had given her.

His thrusts became faster, harder, and more desperate as he pushed into her with all his might. He wanted to make her forget everything else or, more importantly, wanted her to forget about the Prince. To forget the world outside this garden and just focus on the monster pleasuring her.

“Louder," Sukuna demanded, his voice rough and demanding. "Say my name louder, I wasn't everyone in that castle of yours,” he growled. 

Cinderella said his name louder as her back started to arch off the ground as he thrust into her. Her cries of pleasure spurred him on, urging him to push deeper, to take her harder. He took that as her offering herself to him completely. She screamed his name again, and he felt a sense of triumph swell inside of him as you came undone. She was his now, he thought to himself, and no one else's. 

“Good girl," he growled, biting down on her neck, leaving a mark for anyone to see who dared lay eyes upon his Ella.  

He pulls out of you, giving her a small break, which was only enough time for him to pull her onto her side. She clenched her teeth as he pushed both his cocks into you. He holds one of your legs up as starts to thrust Into Your sensitive pussy. His thrust started to get harder rather than his quicker pace from before. Each rough stroke caused a whine to escape her each time. She could feel in herself as she could already feel another orgasm coming up.  

He bends down, basically spooning as he fucks into her. One hand held her thigh up, his nails digging into her leg. Another hand was groping one of her breasts, and a third hand slowly reached down to touch her clit. Her walls fluttered and clenched around his dicks. She couldn't think straight anymore. She placed a hand over his large hand and turned to kiss Sukuna.

He smirks and goes in for the kiss. His hands grip her hips tightly as he pounds into Ella, he grunts roughly as he fucks her into oblivion, her legs quiver, and her body trembles as her pussy coats his cocks with her arousal, and this time, the king follows after her and fills her up with a groan. She was panting. Sukuna was breathing heavily as well, Sukuna, however, still had plenty of energy, given the fact he was still rock hard and throbbing within her.

Ella's eyes felt heavy, almost like she could fall asleep, she doesn't know how much more of this she could take of this but then someone called out to her. 

“Ella…?” Cinderella’s head whipped around to see her groom standing there looking slightly hurt and… a bit aroused? 

“Don’t pay him any mind, and he’s too ashamed that he likes seeing his cute little bride getting fucked by another man to do anything.”  Ella’s eyes drifted down to the prince's painful, clothed erection, then back up to his flushed face.

Sukuna turned Cinderella’s head so she was looking in and restarted his assault on her pussy. She couldn’t help the whorish moans that were escaping her mouth, and in the very back of her mind, behind the intense pleasure she was getting from being thoroughly fucked by Sukuna, she felt a little bad for the prince, here he thought he was getting a happily ever after with the girl of his dreams. 

The prince's face was beet red and the tightness in his pants was very present. his eyes twitched with a mixture of rage and arousal. He shifted in place, not taking his eyes off of Sukuna fucking Cinderella right in front of him. 

Sukuna lets out a sinister laugh as continues to fuck Cinderella.  Her eyes watered a bit as she felt another even more intense orgasm. Ryomen thrust into her a few more times before filling her up with even more cum. She was an out-of-breath mess, Sukuna ran his hand through her hair as if willing her to sleep. Just before she could let out her heavy eyes, she heard a loud splat. Before the prince could respond or even have time to blink, Sukuna killed the prince. His body falls to the ground with a wet thud.

“Was it necessary to kill him…?”  Cinderella asked, looking up at Sukuna from where she sat in the tattered remnants of her wedding dress.

“Yep and you’re an accomplice now it’s time to go woman,” he stands up and makes sure to pick her up to take her and leave.

[thebadboyfanclub]

What Would I Do Without You? (Lewis x Reader)

Hey y’all so I’m slowly getting my groove back and I am very thankful that you guys have been so wonderful and patient with me, this was requested by @jenthustiastic and i must say I switched a few stuff but I hope you can forgive me and still enjoy it.

To be the partner of Lewis Hamilton meant to have a spotlight on you 24/7, eyes like hawks watching and judging every move, however (y/n) had this peculiar ability that made it look like a walk in the park.

From the minute Lewis posted her on Instagram and made it official meant that he had sent the dogs that were ready to tear her down, (y/n) took everything with grace and remained authentic to herself, Lewis was nervous about causing (y/n) pain, he knew that some people were ruthless, he feared that it would get too much for her, she was relatively in the spotlight, being a stylist and all yet this meant she was dipping her toes to another ball game.

(Y/n) never complained nor seemed to be phased by the comments or paparazzi, she was a social butterfly and quickly earned the respect of the fans, especially since she had grown a habit of meeting them and taking their little gifts with them to show Lewis after his race, “the fans princess” is what they called her that had started as a joke and then kind of stuck.

“Where’s the lovely (y/n)?”

Had grown to become a frequent question from the reporters when they got a hold of Lewis, Lewis would always bite his bottom lip and slightly nod before his eyes started to scan the room for the lady.

“I’m here baby!”

“Oh there she is”

(Y/n) did not like to watch the games, it caused her anxiety to see her beloved man sit in a car that went faster than the speed of light, her heart beat like a drum and every sharp turn forced her breath to hitch, she was content with hiding in the crowds and spark conversations with the fans until it was over.

“Don’t you care if I do well?”

“I care if you come back to me in one piece, that is enough for me”

She responded calmly once before she got lost in his arms, their naked chests colliding with one another as her head found its place at the crook of his neck, Lewis giggled as her hair fell on his face, and with his free hand, he caressed the strands away.

(Y/n) was scared, the track had taken men’s lives for the longest and (y/n) who was a massive fan of racing was now linked to her lover which meant that she found the concept similar to torture.

Lewis slowly got used to her routine, after the interviews, they would go to a room, and (y/n) would spend about 30 minutes to an hour just laying with him, well… at least for the majority of the time, (y/n) still blushed at the memory of toto having to knock their door.

“Keep it down! People can hear you!”

He scolded them, Lewis and (y/n) had giggled at the time still when the adrenaline wore off and she had to walk out with smudged makeup and her hair down instead of the tidy ponytail she had walked in with she clung and almost hid behind Lewis until they got to the car.

“We are never doing this again”

“Sure love”

Lewis had responded, knowing well inside that (y/n) was just experiencing the guilt of the moment, Lewis relished that he got to tease parts out of her that she did not know existed.

(Y/n) and Lewis were both fire holders, passion brought them together and the minute one even graced a finger on the other's skin it resembled a match lighting up, the one held the other as close as humanly possible and their eyes would speak the dirty words that they could not publicly even whisper even though Lewis was not one to shy away from leaning against her ear while she giggled after she had a bit too much wine at the dinner table.

“(Y/n)! Hi”

“Can you take this for Lewis?”

“Are you pregnant?”

“Can I have a picture?”

“Are you excited?”

Fans stumbled upon one another as (y/n) started to approach them with a grant smile, the Qatar Grand Prix was one of the most challenging among them, Lewis was nervous which caused (y/n) to be a bit wary, so she was always worked, walked up to the fans to take her mind off the track and hopefully time would pass fast.

This time it was different and as soon as her ears got used to the voices everyone went silent then her heart clenched inside her chest, her eyes snapped to where everyone was looking and she was met with a car that looked familiar spin out.

“No”

(Y/n) whispered, this couldn’t be, her hands mashed into fists and thankfully one of the bodyguards that Lewis had hired to keep an eye on her sensed that this would not go well, she had to be taken out of the public grasp.

The man’s arms softly went up to her biceps before he guided her back to the room so she could wait for her love, though her mind would not let her rest and she feared for the worst.

“Is he ok? Do we know if he is ok?”

“Sir Lewis is fine miss, please let us escort you”

(Y/n) complied and the only thing that could be heard were her footsteps until she got inside the room they had told her to wait on, her heels clicking on the floor as she went up and down the room, even if he was alright to be taken out so quickly was not the outcome anyone would have hopped.

The sound of the doorknob twisting forced her to a halt and then before Lewis could walk inside fully (y/n) had thrown herself in his arms, Lewis even if he was taken aback by it and took a step back responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and closing the door behind him.

“You are safe”

“I hope I didn’t scare you a lot”

“No, no, no, I’m fine, I just- what happened?”

“Russel didn’t let me pass him, he took me out”

“Took you out? How?”

“He-“

Lewis stopped himself from getting riled up, he closed his eyes to take a sharp inhale through the nose and then slowly let it out from his mouth, his grip semi-loosened on her and his one hand went up to take the hair out of her face that were misplaced from the force of her running into him full force.

“It doesn’t matter”

“yes it does, talk to me”

A smile appeared on his lips, he took her by her hand and directed her to the couch, (y/n) had always been a person to show love via physical touch, so when she straddled him Lewis did not think of it even for a second, (y/n) placed her cheek on his shoulder and Lewis thought it would be better if he leaned back so he was propped up with the support of the couch.

“It was the first round, I went to get the lead from the side, and then… I was out because Rusell-“

“I’m going to ask you this… are you sure it was his fault?”

“Yes, he should have let me through”

“What if he couldn’t? First rounds are crowded baby, perhaps he didn’t mean it”

“I am-“

“Unharmed, and you have already proved yourself and how skilled you are, Russel is young and your teammate”

“So that gives him immunity into doing whatever?”

“He drove himself into a wall if you recall, remember how embarrassed and disappointed he was?”

“Yes when only you came to see me on the paddock because everyone was consoling him”

(Y/n) lifted her head to be able to look him straight in the eyes, Lewis was feeling threatened, Russell had potential and he was breathing down Lewis's neck, she could detect the certain sense of failure in his chocolate hues.

Lewis scoffed as he lifted her as gently as possible so he could stand up and away from her, Lewis had years of experience on his back, yet when it came to (y/n) he felt powerless, she hadn’t even tried hard enough and he had revealed everything to her.

(Y/n) only followed him and slightly tugged at his hand so he could turn to face her again, a ghost of a smile appeared on her lips after she raised her hand to caress his cheek, Lewis exhaled as his shoulders relaxed once her warm flesh covered his.

“You can’t hide from me, you know better than that”

“I wanted to do well alright, is that so bad?”

“No, that is healthy, but we both know you can get competitive sometimes, give him some grace, you were in his shoes once”

“You should be on my side”

“You did not ask me to be yours because I was a kiss ass”

“No, smart mouth”

“All that I’m saying is that I care that you are here with me, however, it would not be right if I sat here and caress your pride and let you be wrong, is that what you want?”

“No”

“Good”

(Y/n) placed a sweet kiss on his lips that escalated into a butterfly one, her arms snaked around Lewis’s neck while he slid down from her waist and grabbed onto her tightly.

A playful giggle was heard by her before she pulled away a few inches so she could wipe the grace of lip gloss she had left on his lips with her thumb.

“Naughty boy”

“Always”

“No, we are not doing this it’s too damn hot in here”

“We will blast the air condition in the car after”

“I am not sweating out this makeup Hamilton and you have some making-up to do”

“Now?”

“Well I am assuming he is still racing but yes, we will wait together and you will own your mistakes”

“Must you always go against me?”

“Must you always be so difficult?”

Lewis kissed his teeth at her comeback, (y/n) had become Lewis’s lighthouse at a fast pace, she was a person he would seek every time something would not sit right with him, her hug, her wisdom, her smile of reassurance, her addicting scent as she wrapped herself around him at night.

Something about her soothed him to the core to the point that he could not rest well if she was not laying next to him(y/n) was his second in command and he secretly admired her calm attitude.

Lewis would often think about the times (y/n) would reminisce over her past self, how she was hot-tempered and argumentative, she had confessed that it was a facade she had created like an alter ego to protect her true colors, and there had been a few moments that he had witnessed her eyes glistening with anger, her slick tongue, it was usually when she felt threatened or people crossed someone she loved.

“What would I do without you?”

“Just argue with people for no reason I presume”

“You are being mean”

“Would you rather I lie to you?”

Lewis's smile brightened the room and his face and (y/n) pulled him for a tight embrace, she wondered if there was any way she could get even closer to him like the water of the ocean sank in the sand after a wave, his heartbeat was the most melodic sound for her ears, well, after his voice of course.

(Y/n) had always been a dreamer, from a young age she had filled her heart with hope to find her soulmate, someone to share her light and darkness, that one person that would feel like her fuzzy blanket, friends called her delusional and precious relationships called her suffocating and emotional, Lewis relished it, the small little details that showed how grand her soul and love was.

“There will be other races”

“I know”

“Do you want to speak on this some more”

“Not really”

“Alright, let’s go find George and then we can have a nice bubble bath, perhaps some lavender oil will help”

“Oh I love it when you talk essential oils to me”

Requests are open!

[simplyreveries]

Finally found a TWST writing account with their requests open (trust me it’s rare these days to find TWST writing accounts that are taking requests when I need them)… hehehehhe time for a silly request!!

Characters of your choosing (I can’t decide so you get to) with a reader who is self-aware about being in a game. Platonic or romantic, I don’t really care too much. :3 no pressure if you don’t wanna :D

self aware; riddle, azul, malleus

this concept is so interesting to me, thank you!! i did characters i was in the mood to write for!!

riddle rosehearts

he's confused. he doesn't understand you, but he already knows you're from another world, so he doesn't exactly question it. i mean, of course you're going to be different. he admires your seemingly fearless attitude when dealing with what events come your way but hasn't grasped the concept that it's because you already know what's going to happen, so it doesn't exactly phase you when it comes things such as the overblots.

riddle has the befuddled look whenever you compare him to the queen of hearts. though he is flattered because he looks up to her greatly, he doesn't understand why you're so adamant on telling him it all the time. like whenever you laugh and point out he's "based off of" he's so?? what?? or compare the other dorm members as well. he thinks you're trying to be funny or something and not being serious.

whenever he has history class with you, he's always caught off by surprise when you're able to suspiciously answer most of the questions regarding not only the great seven but other figures and places as well! he thought you just studied well and thought it was rather intelligent of you, not that you already knew.

azul ashengrotto

he finds you peculiar, at first, he thought you were easy to manipulate into signing over the contract during the events of chapter 3 and he tried to take over ramshackle away from you. when you did it without much care or thought, he thought was amusing to see! he was too caught up in being able to successfully "deceive" you that he didn't seem to notice the lax "ohh i know what this part is" attitude from you.

azul has only heard of idia at the board game club they're in together talk a little about his favorite tropes "isekai" and stuff like that. he is curious about the world you're from, but whenever you talk about it, it feels so strange to him. and you keep comparing him to the sea witch! which he thinks is nice but believes he has a long way to go with how great she was.

he feels kind of frustrated when you can almost be one step ahead of him because you know how things are to play out! and even how to talk to people around you. he thinks its impressive though- he thinks you can just read other people well.

malleus draconia

he sees how keen you are on things in twisted wonderland, for someone from another world. but doesn't say anything about it for the most part. whenever you talk and almost get excited, talking about the stories of characters like one of the great seven he quietly listens and adds onto what you're saying. it's interesting, your knowledge is abundant, and you've only been here for a few months.

malleus likes by the way you act. though he isn't entirely sure why you're so confident on knowing how things are going to play out he finds your attitude amusing for a human. you commonly would compare him to maleficent and he'd chuckle shake his head and proceed to tell you stories of just how powerful she was.

he tilts his head slightly, looking down at you confused when you seem deep in thought during your nightly outings before the events of chapter 7. you usually seem so calm and collected but he seemed curious as to why you seemed worried and stressed for once about what's to come in the future. still unknowing what you know. he'll smile softly and tell you, "you need not to worry, child of man."

[gioboni]

A Peculiar Court, Chapter 1

Summary: Dalila comes from an oddly peculiar family. So, it’s no surprise that she finds herself in an equally peculiar place.

Chapter 1

Damn Mist.

That suffocating sensation creeping up her legs and thighs made her squirm, and it was the first time she had been surrounded by so many people going through that phase. It didn’t help that her classroom was right next to the university gym, where sweaty bodies exercised and exuded that unmistakable scent.

Not that everyone smelled good—most of them burned her nostrils. But there were a few whose scent was so pleasant that she felt the urge to lick them.

She tightened the straps of her backpack on her shoulders, feeling the weight of the books pressing against her spine. The classes that day had been long, but the mental exhaustion didn’t compare to the emotional burden she carried. The Florentia sun was setting, painting the sky orange as the shadows of the campus trees stretched across the stone paths.

The late afternoon heat made the air shimmer, and she could feel sweat starting to pool at the back of her neck, making her hair stick slightly to her skin. Dalila looked around.

Groups of students laughed and chatted carelessly, but she remained on the sidelines, as always. It wasn’t that she wanted to be isolated, but it seemed impossible for her to fully integrate into that world. Life on the farm, with her family, kept her tethered to a sense of duty and loneliness that became even more apparent in the city. The campus seemed full of life and freedom, but to her, everything felt fleeting, almost illusory.

"Hey, Dalila!" A cheerful voice interrupted her thoughts.

It was Matilda, the closest thing she had to a friend there. Matilda was her opposite: outgoing, talkative, always surrounded by friends. Dalila smiled back, appreciating the effort Matilda made to keep her around, even though she was a social challenge.

"Hey!" Dalila replied, trying to hide her discomfort.

Matilda quickly approached, her strong, sweet perfume hitting Dalila like a wave. It was a nauseating mixture of artificial roses. Dalila instinctively stepped back. Her keen sense of smell made situations like this almost unbearable.

"Wow, sorry!" Matilda laughed. "I guess I overdid it with the perfume today, huh? I was afraid of sweating after gym class. Is it your period?"

"Yes," Dalila admitted with a forced smile. "But it’s fine."

They walked together across the campus while Matilda chatted about the new literature professor. Dalila listened in silence, occasionally nodding, but her mind was elsewhere. Worries about the farm and Abigail’s stern gaze haunted her.

"What about you, Dalila? What did you think of the class?" Matilda tried to engage her in the conversation.

"It was interesting, I think he has a different approach," Dalila replied mechanically. In truth, she hadn’t been able to focus on anything. All she could think about was the work waiting for her at home. "And the best part is, his classes are straightforward, and I can leave early without problems to get home!"

Her explanation was met with a few changes in her friend's expression, who seemed to try to follow her reasoning.

"Is that all? You didn’t think he was even a little handsome? Seriously?" Matilda laughed, lightly nudging her on the shoulder. "You’re always so regal, as if you’re in a business meeting all the time."

Dalila smiled but said nothing. While the others excitedly chatted about the class, she pretended to pay attention, but her mind was far away. The growing responsibilities waiting for her at home weighed on her, like a constant burden she couldn’t ignore. It was an endless cycle of work and more work on the farm, all so they could afford her grandmother’s increasingly expensive treatment.

"Come on, Dalila, you need to relax a little. It can’t be all about home and obligations," Matilda insisted, turning to her with a serious expression.

"I try, but it’s hard to find time," Dalila shrugged, trying not to seem too distant.

"Well, I swear I’m going to drag you to a party someday!" Matilda exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "You need some fun, and I promise you won’t regret it."

Dalila smiled again but didn’t reply. The idea of being surrounded by more people, loud music, and strong smells didn’t appeal to her at all. Her sensitive sense of smell made those experiences torturous. As they walked, the wind carried distinct aromas from the surroundings: freshly cut grass, gasoline from passing cars, and Matilda’s lingering perfume in the air.

Dalila constantly felt invaded by these smells, something that frequently made her uncomfortable, but over time, she learned to cope with it.

"So, you’re heading home now?" Matilda asked, her tone turning more concerned. "I know you always leave early, but… don’t you want to stay a little longer? We could study together or grab a coffee."

Dalila hesitated. As much as she enjoyed Matilda’s company, she knew her time in the city was limited. She had to get back to the farm, deal with the chores, and more importantly, face Abigail, who always expected everything to be under control.

"I’d love to, Matilda, but my sister will kill me if I’m late again," Dalila said, trying to be polite.

"Ah, yes… the tyrant," Matilda replied with a mix of understanding and discomfort. "But seriously, you deserve a break too."

Dalila sighed. She knew Matilda was right, but reality wasn’t that simple. Her hands tightened around the straps of her backpack.

"I know, but it’s complicated… The farm needs me, and my sister… She thinks I’m the only one who can help with everything."

Matilda stopped and looked at her seriously.

"You don’t have to do everything alone, Dalila. Sometimes you need to think about yourself too."

Those words echoed in Dalila’s mind as they walked in silence.

"Are you sure you don’t want to grab a quick coffee?" Matilda insisted.

"Maybe another day," Dalila replied with genuine regret. "Thanks for always pushing me."

"I’ll keep pushing until I see you enjoying life," Matilda laughed. After saying goodbye, Dalila headed to the bus stop, where her younger sister, Bertiza, was already waiting, looking grumpy.

"Took you long enough," Bertiza said without taking off her headphones.

"I was talking to Matilda," Dalila replied, knowing that mentioning friends would irritate Bertiza.

The two boarded the bus. The air inside was heavy with a mixture of odors that bothered Dalila, but she tried to focus on the fresh air coming from the window.

"The Mist? Really?" Bertiza frowned, annoyed.

She didn’t respond, embarrassed.

When the bus started moving, Dalila focused her attention on the window as the busy streets and tall buildings slowly gave way to smaller houses, empty lots, and, little by little, the landscape transformed. Gradually, the open fields and crops replaced the urban sprawl, bringing a sense of familiarity and comfort. The dirt road, flanked by barbed wire fences, signaled they were nearing the place she felt most at home.

It was as if the images of the city dissolved into her childhood memories—vast fields of crops, dirt roads, and the neighbor’s cattle grazing on distant hills. The air seemed cleaner here, and a sense of tranquility began to settle over Dalila.

She sat next to her sister, but at some point, Bertiza hurriedly got up and moved far away. Dalila knew why.

The mist had been a nuisance since it manifested in her. It was a peculiarity of their family lineage, a phenomenon that occurred once a year when Dalila’s body, like the other women in her family, exuded potent pheromones to attract men.

Not just any men, of course, but those who could truly sense her in her entirety. Dalila hadn’t met anyone with a sense of smell as keen as her family’s, but her grandmother always told stories about how this inheritance came from her grandfather, a man sensitive to smells, who had eventually isolated himself on a farm a little farther from the city, away from prying eyes.

Dalila paused for a moment, lost in thoughts about how that peculiarity had stayed in the family for so many years. It was strange to think that her grandfather had withdrawn from social life because of it. She remembered the stories her grandmother told about the unique way they met when they were young. He had sensed her presence before even seeing her, which always seemed like something out of a fantastic tale.

The top of a cluster of eucalyptus trees caught her attention, and she was relieved to see they were close to her family’s farm. When the bus stopped, she got off without even looking at Bertiza, who seemed eager to run up the hill toward the house.

When Dalila finally arrived at the house, the scene stopped her in her tracks.

Abigail, her other sister, was kneeling on the ground, holding their grandmother, who was crying uncontrollably. The sight hit Dalila like a punch in the stomach. Her body froze, and the air seemed to disappear.

"What’s going on?" Dalila asked, her voice trembling with urgency. She had never seen her grandmother in that state.

None of them answered. Their grandmother sobbed continuously, and Abigail just looked at Dalila with her beautiful violet eyes, vacant, unable to form words.

Impatience took over. Dalila stepped forward and, without thinking, grabbed the paper their grandmother held in her trembling hands. Her own hands shook as she unfolded it. When she finally looked at the document, her heart nearly stopped.

It was a judicial order for the division of the land. Issued by the co-owner of the farm.

Their father.

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 10

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; none. idiots in love

notes ; ITS YEARNING HOURS BAYBEE ‼️ for the first time ever, a bit of childe’s POV, wowie zowie!! also a bit of a cheesy chapter LMFAO, it’s just these two dinguses “reaching” the realization that they want each other so bad, it makes them look stupid.

also a smidgen hint at the end towards the next phase of this dumpster fire of a fic >:3

ok and finally- i know i already made a post abt it but like. would u guys still love me if i posted a luke castellan fic? it’s SO self indulgent bc i’m brain rotting from the percy jackson show so idk yet :>

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old wooden planks creak with each step childe takes.

he’d long lost the count of the days he’d spent in this peculiar inazuman domain— the mystic omnyou chamber, his companions called it. though what a fascinating domain it was, ever-changing and ever-puzzling but most of all, ever-deploying more enemies for him to fight his way through. he feels like only now he truly knows what teucer must’ve felt like in front of all those mr. cyclopses all those months ago.

he felt as though he was given a little too much breathing room by the motherland, still being stationed in liyue with you whoever knows how long his mission was finished, so it was no less than perfect to hear the news of scaramouche’s disappearance from inazuma after taking the gnosis for himself. as much as he disliked to have to leave you in northland bank with the promise of the two of returning together still at hand, he dully needed to take up on his responsibilities as one of her majesty’s harbingers.

still, he could fair by through the remembrance of you and his love for combat.

it’s amusing how freshly burned into his mind the memory of your time together at dottore’s lab was, even when he was half-conscious and at his physically weakest. how you soothed away his wounds with the cool breeze of your cryo powers, how you kept him company while he recovered, how you called him a pret-

“psst— you’re doing that thing again.”

“h-huh..?”

the harbinger is snapped from his daydreaming by paimon naggingly whispering to him. as childe finds himself back in reality, he registers the sight of the traveler, xinyan and shiki taishou walking ahead distractedly through the narrow dusty hallways of the domain, while paimon had fallen back alongside him.

“are you back now? ok good.” the travel guide snides, hands sassily placed at her hips.

childe chuckles sheepishly. “i-i’m sorry, paimon, but i’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.”

“oh, come on, it’s so obvious! the entire time we’ve been here, you’ve been doing this thing where you either doze off thinking about y/n! y’know as someone so passionate about fighting, you really need to get your head in the game right now.”

he feigns an offended scoff. “that is entirely untrue, comrade. my focus is solely on figuring out this domain’s mysteries and defeating its monsters.”

there’s a brief pause, where childe thoroughly reevaluates what paimon just said.

“wait, how did you know i was thinking about y/n? i-if i were dozing off and possibly thinking about them!”

she scoffs. “puh-lease, you’ve been babbling about them since we got here! almost everything you’ve said has somehow trailed off into y/n, so much so that even shiki taishou is caught up on what’s happened with you two!”

paimon was someone known to be a bit eccentric and overreactive at certain moments, but she also had her moments of being very bluntly honest in other situations. this was one of them. the harbinger deliberates for a moment, out of all the time he’s spent venturing this domain with the paper doll, just how much information had he unwillingly retained about you.

suddenly, a moment of clarity washes over childe and he vividly recalls all the moments during his venture in the domain where he’s talked about you. saying things such as ‘i wonder how y/n is doing right now…’, or ‘hah, y/n’s cryo attacks would demolish these enemies.’ or even ‘oh! that reminds of this one time, when y/n and i were kids…’. lest we mention the multiple times he’s said ‘i can’t wait to return to inazuma with y/n and show them this.’ whenever he’d been exploring the electro land’s scenic locations.

poor shiki taishou.

but then again, is it truly his fault that the mystic omnyou chamber had so many moments and details that were so clearly reminiscent of you? o-or maybe… maybe this was just a domain and everything reminded him of you regardless. but that’s the more unlikely possibility.

he curses scaramouche in his mind for a brief moment. it was all because he decided to go rogue that childe had to leave so abruptly— just when he’d made amends with you, just when the two of you were restoring your friendship. just when you’d started to flash him that devastating smile of yours again, instead of the standoffish snarl you’d presented during his mission in liyue. gods, he could feel his heart pang against his chest. surely it was just the adrenaline of battle, though. even if the group hadn’t faced enemies in more than ten minutes by now.

an even further tucked part of childe’s mind curses paimon next, for pointing out how much he speaks of you, because now he truly cannot stop. he looks ahead towards the end of the corridor and he can’t see what’s next, can’t see the next tatami matted arena where he’ll face a new wave of enemies, something he thinks he wants— no, all he sees is you.

it’s like your face is burned into his retinas, your fond laughter burned into brain and the warm feeling of when he slept against your shoulder burned into his skin.

childe doesn’t doesn’t fight as well as before in the next battle, he’s sloppy and distracted. after the arena is cleared, he’s left with a scratch across his bicep— which, thankfully, the domain grants a healing sigil to mend.

but it’ll never cure him like you do, never soothe the very core of his being like your powers do and it’ll never look at him the same way you did, caring and attentive.

he remembers how he felt lookup up at you then— like you were the stars in the night sky. he needed to get this mission over with as soon as possible.

—

you could almost hear your mother’s nagging tone telling you to not play with your food. as delicious as liyuean cuisine was, you’d lost your appetite halfway through your meal- as well as interest in the tale the restaurant’s storyteller was telling.

it’d been probably the dullest week you’ve had in a while, no new assignments from the motherland, no events happening in the city and… admittedly, no childe.

you can’t find the effort to lie to yourself and say it’s fine that he’s gone, that it’s for the tsaritsa’s noble cause— you don’t care about it. scaramouche could screw off with the gnosis and live his life, as far as you were concerned. in fact, you’d say he deserves it, given all he’s gone through with the doctor, even if he could be an astronomical asshole at times— well most of the times.

and now you can’t decide who to blame for childe’s absence, the balladeer or the tsaritsa. either way, it’s affected you more than you’d ever admit out loud. it’s been such a monotone week not just because of the distinct lack of anything to do in liyue lately, but also because of a distinct lack of… someone to worry about. yeah, that’s what it was, just an unusual sense of calm and nothing to stress over, that’s all—

“even in all my years, i’ve rarely seen someone stare at an unfinished bowl of dragon beard noodles with such intensity.”

a rumbling, baritone voice quips jokingly from across your small table and you’re startled away from your thoughts. looking up, the comment is revealed to come from mr. zhongli, the consultant from wanshe— oh, who were you kidding, the now former geo archon.

you hadn’t formerly spoken to him since the mission to take, well, his gnosis. after the situation with osial was diffusd, you beared witness to an unsettlingly diplomatic exchange between mr. zhongli and the fair lady, where he gave away the very culmination of his divinity like it was spare change. of course, you’ve spotted him countless times around the harbor— merely enjoy the little things the city had to offer. you can’t truly fault him for making the decision that he did, six thousand years is, unspokenly, too much time to not peruse the fruits of his labor from up close.

“a-ah, mr. zhongli! it’s been so long since we last spoke.” you scramble to politely greet zhongli and briefly wonder if you should stand up to bow to him, which he seems to notice.

“my apologies for startling you, doctor— may i?” he gestures to the seat in front of you and you nod.

“yes, it has been some time. i recall you being there for the completion of my contract with the fair lady, but the last time the two of us had the opportunity to meet casually was the very same night we first met.”

you nod curtly— you’re tense, you don’t know why. you know he’s not an archon anymore, you were there to see it, but perhaps the real weight of being in the presence of someone so powerful, not just an archon but the oldest of the original seven, seems to have only settled in now. you feel almost as choked as when in the presence of the tsaritsa, which you know all the same that you shouldn’t be. zhongli chuckles amusedly.

“i ask you to treat me as though you would’ve that night in liuli pavilion, like any other acquaintance. chatting with a mere consultant of a funeral parlor requires no formalities. now— have you been well, doctor?”

you can still only bring yourself to nod wordlessly in response, there’s no need for zhongli to know how royally miserable you’ve been lately.

“and.. may i ask why you held such a glare towards your meal? is it not your liking?”

“oh, no the noodles are just fine, amazing even! i was just… contemplating wether to finish it or not.”

great cover.

“hm,” zhongli hums with playful suspicion. “while a reasonable topic of contemplation, it did very much seem as though you were rather staring through the bowl, as though there is something on your mind. i would not mind hearing what is it that vexes you, doctor— if you’re comfortable to share, of course.”

yeah there was no fooling a, again, six thousand year old divine being with a half-assed excuse like yours. you sigh.

“well— yes, you caught me. the last few days have been, uh… less than peachy for me.”

“what exactly is it troubles you these days?”

“i wouldn’t say it’s trouble but, there hasn’t been much to do at northland bank lately. and childe has been out on a mission for some time now— b-but it’s mainly the lack of assignments!” you stammer.

“is that so? i did hear of childe’s sudden departure for inazuma but it is curious that you’re being kept stationed here with essentially nothing to do. but, if i may— has childe been absent for as long as you’ve felt dull at work or would you say there is no relation?”

already at so few words out of sheer nervousness, zhongli managed still to render you completely and utterly speechless. what are you even supposed to respond to this?

“i-i uhm, i… alright, i won’t even try.” you sigh in defeat and zhongli looks coyly pleased. he patiently awaits for you to gather your thoughts and actually say more than two stammered sentences.

“i truly can’t tell what it is. i feel like i’m supposed to be worrying for him— as if he’ll get injured again or injure someone else o-or even worse, do something stupid but there’s just.. nothing! it’s like i’m so used to being aware of his presence and now there’s nothing and it’s- it’s frustrating.”

“you miss him.”

you pause. do you miss him? no, it can’t be so simple— you have a medical degree, it is most certainly improbable that you’ve been trying your brain over just missing childe. well, sure it was great that the two of you were starting to make amends and stopped being so on-edge around each other but… there’s no objective reason for you to miss him.

right?

“i would not say i even near the level of an expert on matters concerning relationships between people, but i’ve seen a lot in my time. enough to tell you with confidence that it’s most likely you just.. miss him, doctor. and that it is okay to feel this way. the two of you do not stand at odds anymore, you never have— it is reasonable for you to be affected by his absence.”

you furrow your eyebrows. “how do you know if… childe and i stand at odds, mr. zhongli.”

“well, i have witnessed it. both directly and indirectly— the tension and misunderstanding between the two of you during our meeting at liuli pavilion was quite evident and i’ve heard of how you opposed him in battle at the golden house. but that is all it has ever been, misunderstandings and disagreements, but you’ve never truly disliked each other.”

“h-how do you know-“

“he speaks quite highly of you, doctor.”

“wh-what?”

“childe has only ever spoken highly of you— i recall mentioning that had been looking forward to meeting you in person during our dinner, it is all because of how grand his description of you was. plus, during our eventual meetups, you’re mentioned at least once every time. and you, as we’ve discussed, do seem to hold some care towards him, to the extent that you first concern is his health.”

your heart aches and you hate it. it’s a terrible, void sensation that frustrates you to no end. why? why did childe have to make it so difficult for you? why can’t you ever feel simple feelings when it came to him? why couldn’t you ever just feel one way towards him with no smaller part of your brain saying something else? even worse, why couldn’t your brain ever think about anything else— literally anything, instead of just constantly orbiting around the mixed emotions you felt when it came to childe?

you just constantly, restlessly and unendingly seem to care about him.

“you know what, mr. zhongli, i think y—“

“ah, there you are, sergeant!”

a less familiar voice calls out from behind you and you turn around with a bit of surprise— it’s a man clad in fatui uniform, who you recognize as mikhail, one of the officers stationed at northland bank. he’s not exactly someone you interact much with, just a mere coworker you greet every other morning, so you’re perplexed as to why he’s seeking you outside the bank.

“mikhail, what is the occasion?” you ask, briefly eyeing zhongli to find that he remains with a neutral expression awaiting the exchange.

“i am deeply sorry for interrupting your lunch, sergeant, but ekaterina urged for me to find you as soon as i could. a letter has come in from lord dottore for you specifically— she says it is of utmost importance.”

—

the wharf is unusually crowded today.

an untimely flux of either tourists or returning immigrant citizens, perhaps it is an important time of year in another nation— although, childe could truly care less at the moment. he’s doing his best to politely push his way through the sea of people leaving their respective ships while almost unconsciously seeking you out within it. he knows you wouldn’t be here, as his return to liyue was unannounced, but his eyes fly to latch onto your likeness anyway.

childe ends up finding you right in the center of the harbor’s main street, practically right below the catwalks that lead to the bank. you’re slowly pacing back and forth, a piece of paper clutched in your hands and a vacant expression on your face— childe can’t find himself to clutch to those details right now, he just needs to get to your side. he makes large, determined steps towards you, big grin invading his features, and while he’s still approaching you, you spot him and your eyes widen even more. once childe is a mere two steps away from you, he stops.

“y/n! oh, it’s so good to see you!” he heaves out gladly.

“ajax—“ you reply in a quiet voice and his heart swells at the use of his real name. he truly can’t contain himself anymore and tackles you into a tight hug, one so strong that stumble back a bit.

his arms snake tightly from under your arms to above your shoulders and his head lowers from being against your own to reaching your shoulder blade— it is as close as he physically get to you, while trying to be respectful of your space, of course. you’re still in shock for maybe five seconds of the hug, but eventually you just let yourself slowly wrap around him and squeeze ever so slightly. both of you have your eyes closed to sink into the moment.

the hug is long, maybe twenty seconds so, and as childe becomes satisfied with its duration and pulls away, he remains with his hands to your elbows in a gentle hold. he sighs with said satisfaction and beams towards you.

“i have so much to tell you about inazuma! unfortunately, i couldn’t find scaramouche there but i managed to see so many beautiful places, so many amazing experie- wait.. what’s wrong?”

the harbinger pauses mid sentence when he notices the numbness in your expression and his bright grin falls into a concerned frown— you feel like the most terrible person for making him lose such excitement. your mouth opens and closes as you find what to say, but you eventually whisper it out.

“ajax, i-i… i have to go to sumeru.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

[bluepandastarfish]

The Spirit Of Castle Dimitrescu.

Lady Dimitrescu X Ghost!Fem Reader

Lady Dimitrescu masterlist

Warnings: Mention of blood, nightmares, anxiety, potential scaries!

Sorry this took a while to get out, hope you enjoy and I may do a part 2 for more shipping potential but no promices!

------------------------------------------

Since her first days in the castle Bela can remember unexplainable and strange things happening. When she and her sisters first woke up all three of them seemed to notice peculiar occurrences. Her mother recounts to them, on nights she had drank perhaps too much, that when they were first reborn they acted much like human newborns.

‘Daniela could not support her own head for weeks after and Cassandra would constantly be mouthing at me for more food, although I'm sure that was down to your flies insatiable hunger’ Her mother had said fondly, she seemed to enjoy herself remembering her daughter's in their vulnerable states. ‘And you, Bela, you would babble and try to cling to things that were not there. Things none of us could see… it made me paranoid for a while until you seemed to stop one day.’ Apparently human babies exhibit lots of these traits and more which at first made Bela confused as to how they survived being so vulnerable for years as her and her sisters were only in that state for about half a year (although if you asked Cassandra she would tell you Daniela is still in that phase). 

The last thing her mother had told her made her very interested, why would she speak to someone that is not there? Bela was always the most mature and realistic of her sisters, so it did not make sense to her. Perhaps her mother simply had not noticed a maid that Bela was seeing? Or maybe it was simply that she was remembering it incorrectly.

Bela forgot about the topic completely until one night months later… 

–---------------------------------

She awoke to a peaceful humming on the other side of her bed, for a moment she passed it off as Daniela making noises in her sleep but she quickly realized the voice was too lightly toned to be her sisters. The revelation made her jolt up and snap her gaze to her sister's side of their shared bed to attack whatever intruder was near her loved ones. 

The humming stopped abruptly when she looked round, causing her to hold her breath and narrow her eyes- even more so when she saw no one besides her sisters still sleeping bodies. She blinked rapidly and moved her eyes to search rapidly in the darkness of the bedroom, still seeing no one. 

Ultimately she determined, unhappily, that her mind was playing tricks on her somehow, likely down to the fact she had just woken up. Just as she relaxed a cold chill danced along her neck, cold enough for her to feel a slight ache as one or two flies crumbled away from her. She froze in fear, finding herself unable to move even as she tried desperately. 

A gentle inhale was heard next to her ear before a softly spoke voice whispered to her:

“Your sister is adorable… may I have her?” 

She could hear a smile in the unseen woman's voice and she swallowed thickly as her eyes widened and she found herself still unable to turn around or even make a noise. For a moment a freezing, delicate and almost skeletal hand was felt on the shoulder opposite to where the voice was talking. 

Bela screamed and jumped toward to get away, subsequently landing on her now very awake sisters. Both jolted in a similar fashion to how she had, growling feraly at whatever threat had woken them. They both wrapped protective arms around whatever parts of their sister they could reach and scanned the room, stray flies buzzing around hecticlay. 

After a moment everything seemed to calm down and the flies returned to their respective sister. Danielas nimble hand began gently carding through Belas hair after she realised her sister was shaking in her hold.

“B-Bela? Did you have a nightmare?” Her sisters sad attempt at a whisper would have amused her if she were not so terrified. Both Cassandra and Daniela looked at eachother worridly at Bela did not respond, merely staring at the empty space next to her side of the bed… 

–---------------------------------

Bela was much more composed the next morning, although none of the three sisters managed to sleep after the event and so all three had dark tired marks under their eyes. She decided that she would find out what happened last night, and who was behind it. There was no way she had imagined something so vivid and after confirming that it was, in fact, real by seeing her dead flies on the sheet where she had been sat she lied to her sisters in telling them that she had simply had a nightmare like Daniela had suggested. 

After breakfast she went with her mother to her office and sat in silence for a while with her, deliberating how to bring up the matter at hand. 

The only sound that was heard in the office was the scribbling of Lady Dimitrescus pen against the letter she was writing to some unknown recipient. Bela budgeted slightly as she stared at her mother's hand as she wrote, taking the moment to think rational about what could've happened last night. 

Lady Dimitrescu glanced at her daughter after a moment, putting the pen down and leaning toward on her desk slightly to look kindly at her. She tilted her head slightly at Bela- silent still- and took the initiative to start the conversation. 

“what's troubling you, Bela?” She kept her tone gentle as she knew she would get nothing out of her daughter by being demanding. 

Bela sighed and leaned back in her chair. “something happened last night mother…” she kept he choice in a whisper, not sure who she didn't want hearing but simply deciding a whisper felt right. “some-something I'm not sure about-” she cut herself off as she tried to think of how to recount the events to her mother. 

She took a deep breath and just began talking. “I woke up, around 3 o'clock I believe, and I heard someone humming near Daniela’s side of the bed. Naturally I jumped into a action, thought maybe it was a maid or an intruder- just someone who wasn't supposed to be there” she took a shuddering breath and looked past her mother through the window at the snowy landscape outside. 

“there was no one there- and then the humming stopped, almost like when you pull the needle from a record player prematurely. Then, I froze.” She felt colder simply thinking about it. “I couldn't move, mother, I felt like I couldn't control my body! My flies couldn't separate from me and-and then i-” 

Her gaze snapped back to her mother desperately, her eyes widened in fear that she may not believe her next words. “you must believe me, mother! A woman's voice in my ear and a freezing cold all along my neck! A few flies crystallized- even! And then her hand- it grabbed my shoulder and it felt like a skeleton made of ice! I swear it was real mãma- i-i” 

Lady dimitrescu cut her rambling off by gently taking Belas hand in her much larger one and humming in agreement. “I believe you, my bug. You've always been the most level headed of you three” She chuckled slightly in hopes of distracting her daughter from her evident worry, it did not work. 

“if there were crystallized flies then it must have been real…” Lady Dimitrescu used her other hand to raise Bela chin slightly and turn her head, her brows furrowed. “is there any more damage? Your not injured anymore are you? Something touched your shoulder you said?” 

Bela shook her mothers hand off her and sighed frustratedly. “no-no it's all healed now… and my sheets were changed this morning so I doubt the evidence is there anymore” She mutters sadly. “I was thinking earlier… that the maids have always speculated about Ghosts in the castle- '' her mother cut her off with a tut. 

“you know very well there is no such thing. The staff may speculate all they want but the cause is likely the Moroaică roaming at night.” Lady Dimitrescu sighed. “I am certain that if there were, in fact, spitrits then there would be plenty more than just the one. And they would certainly want to do more damage to us then a tap on the shoulder and a whisper in your ear.” 

There's silence again for a moment before Bela speaks again “but mother… what she said was frightening too” Belas voice was quieter now, almost nervous. “she said ‘your sister is adorable, may I have her’ and I can only assume she was talking about Dani-” Bela almost shuddered as she felt cold just repeating it. Lady Dimitrescu inhaled sharply. 

“that is… frightening” she seemed to think for a moment. “in any case… Ghost or dream. Perhaps it is best you and your sisters stay in my room for a while, at least until this calms down” she sighed again, tirdley this time. 

“and if you are truly invested in this Ghsot nonsense… that are books in the library that detail the castles history. Before I came here, possibly even before Mother Miranda came to the village although I'm not sure.” She smiled at Bela. “you shall have to inform me on what you find”

–------------------------------

Lady Dimitrescu was no superstitious woman. The idea that something like that could be real negates every belief she has prided herself on. 

She and her daughter's are immortal and so are far superior to humans. The idea that there is something after death destroys that. 

Religion, aside from Mother Miranda and the black god both of which are scientifically driven, was created to give false comfort to humans. While no religion details becoming a spector after death, they all have some kind of afterlife and she is sure that a Ghost would fall into one of the portrayals. 

But, her daughter had become interested. Something she would've passed off as a nightmare to her other two children would be much harder to convince Bela of as she was almost as stubborn as her mother. Lady Dimitrescu may not believe a real Ghost had visited her daughter's but she much preferred helping Bela disprove her theory rather then she go try figure it out on her own and possibly get hurt. 

She admits to herself though, that if flies had really crystallized at the moment Belas nightmare commenced then perhaps it was safer the three of them slept with her for a while. The likelihood is that one of the windows in the girls room had somehow let a breeze of the winter air in- precisely enough to give Bela a fright but not to cause serious damage. She told herself one of the maids would see to it later. 

For now she was making her way to the Opera hall, although the piano was to small for her to play normally Alcina had discovered that she could play simple tunes with her smallest fingers. This looked quite strange apparently, as she had caught a few maids laughing about it after one of the staff had caught her the last time. Needless to say those wretches were not able to laugh once her darling Cassangra had taken their tongues from their mouths. 

Entering the room was peaceful, as was sitting on the piano stool. Alcina cared little for what she would play and luckily there was a sheet of music someone had left on the stand which, again, she did not bother to read the name of. She tilted her head to the side slightly and smiled as she began playing, unfortunatley having to conserntrate hard on hitting the correct keys. 

For moments she was content, stress and worry from the day drifting says from her along with the music. For a moment, at least. 

And then a voice. 

“that must be difficult” 

She furrowed her eyebrows and stopped playing, her hands brought up to her chest almost as if she'd been burnt by the piano. As she looked up from the piano to find the culprit of the whisper she saw a woman she did not recognise. 

The woman was leaning on the opposite end of the instrument, her elbows supporting her and pushing her chest toward slightly, not that it caused much to be revealed in the white nightgown she wore. Lady Dimitrescu narrowed her eyes as the woman smiled happily back at her, but the Lady decided to humour this stranger perhaps out of boredom but if you asked her she was sure she would not be able to say exactly why… 

“what… is difficult?” she asked the strange woman who blinked, and for a split second revealed piercing white eyes before they abruptly switched back to her normal eye coulor. The Lady leaned her head back from the woman after that moment, watching the strange girl careful from her seat. 

The girl sighed happily and kept smiling at Lady Dimitrescu as she spoke. “Being so georgous of course” The Lady was taken aback by the words, her face heating up slightly even as her lips flattened in contempt. The girl giggled at the Lady's reaction. 

“Such blatant disrespect is a thing I hardly tolerate” Again, Alcina did not know why she was allowing this to continue, if it were any other person she would have been gutted where she stood for such uncouth confidence. Perhaps she was enjoying being flirted with, even if this girl was strange and… soemone she had not seen before. 

Alcina blinked slightly at the revelation that she had not seen this woman before now, not as a maiden or visitor. The girl did not stop smiling even after the Lady's warning, her eyes shining in some way that Alcina could not place. “are you wondering who I am now, Beautiful lady?” she asked coyly, as if the idea of Alcina thinking about Her was something to be amazed by. 

Instead of a verbal response the Lady nodded firmly, her mouth set thin and her eyes slightly narrowed as she watched for any sudden moments from the strange woman. The girl blinked again, this time her appearance morphing into something inhuman. 

Her lips turning pale, fat and muscle seeming to retreat from her body as her bones became more prominent, her eyes going white and surrounding themselves in some kind of bruising and her outfit turning itself a wet sort of red- like blood. 

The Lady stood and gasped at the change, the piano stool flying away behind her and hitting something she did not care to check on. The woman smiled and did not change positions even as her appearance made such a dramatic switch. 

She seemed to mock Alcinas terror and gave a large frown. “Why are you scared, countess? I thought you'd like me this way” she stood straight then, and for a moment Alcina felt she could not move even as she tried her hardest. The woman somehow rose to Lady Dimitrescus' eye level, her feet no longer touching the ground and leaving behind her a small trail of blood droplets on the floor. 

“It's alright” she whispered as she floated closer to the countess, now directly in front of her face. Alcina caught the putrid smell of rotten flesh from the woman in front of her, she would've flinched away if she could only bring herself to move. “I am only a nightmare… after all” she giggled and played a chilling kiss to the countess cheek before disappearing entirely. 

Alcina fell back and caught herself with one arm, frozen as a giggle seemed to echo in her mind. The blood on the floor was not there, it was if it had never happened at all. 

The only evidence she had was the cold and bloody mark of withered lips on her cheek. 

--------------

I tried my very best to make sure the readers race was unstated! I want everyone to be abel to enjoy this if they wanna so please let me know and give some feedback if you can!

THANKS FOR READING! Sorry if the ending felt kinda rushed I realised how long it was taking for me to write and I really wanted to get it out! A part 2 is on the table I just will need time to figure out how it would work along with the fact that when I promice a part two I seem to be very good at procrastinating so...

[decaffeinatedbreadsublime]

Say Anything — Raj Koothrappali x Reader

Author's Note: I kind of liked this one? I hope you like it too!

P.S: English is not my first language, sorry if it's bad!

Warnings: insecurities, ending relationships and cheesy things!

Summary: you and Raj break up, but he decides to fight for your love

You knew that Raj had a rather peculiar past when it came to women and relationships.

In his youth, Raj would easily fall in love, yet due to his extreme shyness and selective mutism, he couldn't even manage to say "hello" to them. It was during a turbulent phase, what Penny referred to as "the Martini incident," that Raj discovered alcohol helped him loosen up and converse with women, albeit adopting an arrogant and self-assured personality.

His journey towards forming meaningful relationships was slow and steady, marked by several romances until he eventually began dating you. You dubbed him "Raj 5.0," believing you had found the most refined version of him, the perfect boyfriend.

There had never been issues with his past relationships or his tendency to swiftly transition from one romance to another, as he seemed to have changed. However, that night, you discovered he harbored a darker side.

"So, Y/N," Penny said while pouring you a glass of wine during a girls' night where you were invited as Raj's new girlfriend, "how are things going with him?"

"Wonderfully," you replied with a smile. "When I used to see him around the Caltech corridors, I thought he was just a funny nerd. I never imagined he could be such a passionate lover."

"We're all surprised by Raj's transformation," Bernadette remarked. "We knew he was a good boyfriend to my husband, but we weren't sure if he had the same skills with other women."

"Yes, he doesn't seem like the Raj who broke up with his girlfriend on Valentine's Day to pursue another woman, and when she rejected him, he tried to backtrack. Or went out with his ex while he was dating another girl" Penny commented, inadvertently laughing at the memory.

You stopped laughing immediately.

"Raj did that?" you asked, a mixture of concern and sadness in your tone. "That's terrible."

"Sweetie, Raj had his moments," Penny began, trying to justify. "But he's changed."

"Do his 'moments' mean he's acted like this more times?" you inquired, placing the wine glass carefully on the table, trying to process everything.

"He's come a long way since then, Y/N," Bernadette attempted to explain.

"I thought he was just clumsy, I didn't knew he had been so terrible to his ex-girlfriends"

A heavy silence filled the room. Bernadette nervously played with the wine glass.

"Unbelievable," you murmured, getting up to fetch your purse. "I thought he was different, he's just like everyone who hurt me"

With tears in your eyes, you left the house.

"Remember when you explained to me about comments that help and those that don't?" Amy said to Penny “I think that one definitely didn't help, bestie"

***

That night, you decided to end things with Raj. It was overwhelming for your mind, having been hurt enough in past relationships.

You had thought he was different, a man you could trust. He was romantic, kind, attentive, and cooked for you every night. Yet you knew that all princes could turn into beasts, and Raj seemed to have great potential for that. You didn't want to be around when that happened.

You went to his house to break up. You could have sent a message or ended it remotely, but that seemed heartless. With red-rimmed eyes from crying, you knocked on his door. He tried to hug you, mentioning he was surprised you were there since it was supposed to be a girls' night. You dodged the embrace and amid his confused expression, you ended it. He said nothing, just stood there for a while. You didn't explain your reasons, simply stating it couldn't go on.

In his stunned silence, you left.

***

 Raj gently knocked on Penny's door at ten o'clock in the evening. Just two hours ago, you had broken up with him, and since then he had cried like never before. His head throbbed intensely, and he felt dizzy.

"Sweetie, what happened?" Penny asked, visibly concerned, as she opened the door. She led him to the sofa and waited for him to gather himself.

"Y/N broke up with me," he said, tears welling up again. "She didn't even explain why, just said she needed to end it. I already miss her so much." It was then that he broke down in tears. "Why did she end it like that? Has she grown tired of me? Am I so hard to love?"

Penny remained silent for a moment, guilt squeezing at her heart. She comforted Raj while summoning the courage to speak.

"Raj... Y/N knows about Emily's story."

"What!?" Raj exclaimed, startled. "She must think I'm a jerk!"

"Well... Kind off."

"How did she find out? It doesn't matter. Maybe I am a fool, but I've changed so much for her. Before, I couldn't see sincerity in people, I'd fall in love and then grow tired... but she has held me in a way that I can't imagine my life without her now. But it's no use, she's gone."

"Don't give up just yet," Penny said, her tone encouraging. "Y/N is frightened, you know how impulsive she can be at times. She's had many bad relationships before and she's afraid this might be just another one."

"And what if it is?"

"It won't be. You love her and you've changed for her. Get some rest and talk to her tomorrow, give her time to cool her head as well."

***

Raj knew he should have waited a little longer. Lying on his bed, he tossed and turned all night.

Penny had given him hope that he should try, and he had decided to try. At three in the morning, he felt he could wait no longer and made his way to her apartment, with an old and ridiculously large sound system that until then had served only as decoration in his Raj Mahal.

And at three-thirty in the morning, you were awakened by the sound of "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel. At first, you squirmed in bed, thinking it was just a dream. Upon waking and realizing the music wasn't just in your head, you considered the possibility of a party or a neighbor. However, as the music grew louder, you decided to look out the window, and there was Raj holding the sound system for you like Lloyd Dobler in "Say Anything."

"Raj, what are you doing!?" you exclaimed, opening the window. A cold front blew in, causing you to clutch your long-sleeved blouse pajamas tighter.

"I'm showing you that I haven't given up on our love, like Lloyd Dobler!" he replied, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"That's so cheesy!" you responded amidst laughter. "Come up here, it's terribly windy out there."

He turned off the music and stowed it back in the car before coming up. His heart was racing; he hadn't planned much beyond surprising you.

When he knocked on your apartment door, you hugged him tightly, your warm body contrasting with his cold one in the predawn chill.

"Who would've thought, cold in July and in Pasadena. They weren't kidding about global warming, huh?" you said, a habit of making random comments in stressful situations. Raj knew this, and he knew he wasn't here for small talk, so, holding your face gently, he gave you a passionate kiss, even knowing you might hate him for it for the rest of your life.

"The guy you hate, the Raj of the past who was a jerk with women and reminds you of your exes... I hate him too. I hate him and I'm disgusted by him, but he doesn't exist anymore... thanks to you."

"Raj..."

"I can't explain what happened, maybe it's just a soulmates thing where after just one day with you, I knew you're the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with and do things right."

"I was really scared when I found out you used to be such... I guess the word is a jerk. I've been hurt and deceived many times, and when they told me about your past, my instinct was to end it before it got worse."

"I wouldn't be like that with you."

"I don't know. There's no way for me to know. You could get tired of me or fall in love with someone else, there are so many ways this could end with a broken heart. And I'm scared."

"Y/N..."

"But I like being with you, and I've decided to take a risk. I thought a lot from the moment I broke up with you and I know I was very... Intense with my decision, and I regretted it because everyone can be horrible, I can't predict that. 

But to stay with you, you need to promise me that you will always be honest with me. Communicate any feeling and don't make me look like a fool."

"Always, Y/N, I will always do whatever you want," he said, embracing you tightly.

"The Say Anything move was a nice touch," you said with a laugh, breaking the embrace.

"Oh, you know I'm a hopeless romantic," he chuckled, holding your face again for another kiss.

[the-avaricious-meddler]

Name: Alana _____ Monikers:  -The Gambling Former Noble/The Gambling Revolutionary (depending on what circles you're in) -Mr Cards Age: 27 (Main 4 storyline), 34 (Violet Storyline) Species: Transition phase between Human and Curator Gender/Pronouns: Girlthing (She/it) Ambition: Heart's Desire (Power Ending) Profession: Correspondent Lodgings: Suite at The Royal Bethlehem Closest To: Revolutionaries Other Affiliations: The Liberation of Night (Allies), The Masters of The Bazaar (Target), The Cardsharp Monkey (Ally), Mr Pages (Enemy), Virginia (Enemy), The Bishop of St Fiacre's (Rival, One-sided), The Manager of The Royal Bethlehem (Complicated), Rubbery Men, Tomb-Colonists, The Court of The Wakeful Eye, The Dilmun Club (tentatively), The Youthful Naturalist, Polythreme Most Valued Primary Stat(s): Persuasive, Shadowy Most Valued Advanced Stat(s): Artisan of The Red Science, Kataleptic Toxicology Ship: Il-Altun-class Yacht  Estivals Experienced: Horticulture Hell, The Sixth Coil

Exceptional/Premium stories canon to this character: Caveat Emptor

Personality: Well-meaning but selfish, artistically inclined, loyal to allies but not always honest about who those allies are. Has strong revolutionary leanings, and aids The Liberation of Night- though unless you are already enmeshed in revolutionary circles, you wouldn't know it. Nasty gambling habit.

History:

Born on the surface in 1868 to a declining noble family.  Despite this, they still had a sizable estate, though they were frequently forced to use 'less than desirable' means of moneymaking to preserve their wealth. Her father was a factory-owner, and wanted her older brother to inherit it, whilst she was to be wed to a more successful family to boost the wealth of her own. She frequently witnessed the poor treatment her family's servants- and the factory's workers- were put through, causing her to become jaded to her way of life.

When she was 16, she turned to gambling, and through this she met a group that would permanently alter the course of her life- a small band of Liberationists that still lived on the surface. She joined them in secret, knowing there would be consequences should her family learn of her association. And eventually they did, and there were. At 18, she was discovered and fully disowned, ousted with little more than the clothes on her back.

She would remain on the surface for 7 years more, before deciding she could do more for her cause if she moved out of the Stars' sight. And so at age 25, she descended to The Neath, taking up residence in a cheap rookery somewhere between Veilgarden and Spite. It was around this time she learned about The Marvellous, and began to hatch a plan: she would find a way into this game, win at whatever cost, and use this victory to gain Power. Status. Enough to get into ranks high enough to consort with the Masters of The Bazaar. And from there, she would subvert, sabotage. Use that power to tear them apart from the inside.

Two years of searching. That was how long it took for her to get a potential in to the Marvellous. And how long it took for her to learn she'd have to wait five more if she wanted to play by the game's usual rules. But she wasn't interested in waiting that long. So she set about 'gently encouraging' the current set of players to begin the game early.

(Major spoilers for Ambition: Heart's Desire below)

A peculiar monkey, Intelligent beyond what it should be though not keen on communication, became her companion in this endeavor.

And her attempts, though tiresome and annoying, and requiring her to convince an imprisoned former Prince of hell to pretend to pretend to be freed and make an even further enemy out of the deviless Virginia, were ultimately successful. She convinced almost every player.

And then a larger obstacle presented itself: a Master of The Bazaar was a player. One Mr Pages, whom she already disliked, at that. She unfortunately needed to get its attention. But how?

It was then an individual she would come over time to despise showed up at her door. They introduced themself with no name, only a moniker: The Avaricious Meddler. A moniker she had heard before, not long after she'd descended to the Neath. One many disparate individuals had taken up over the decades with seemingly no connection.

They offered her a deal: They would help her with her goals, if she just did them a little favor later down the line. Not trusting them, but not having many other options, she agreed. 

They told her the location of a long-inactive cell of revolutionaries, and what to tell them to get them into action. What to do to target The Bazaar itself. 

Of course, before any part of this plan could be carried out, none other than Pages itself showed up. And it asked her to join the Marvellous. ...How convenient.

She agreed, of course. One doesn't turn down that kind of convenience when it quite literally comes knocking at one's door.

Being the one to disrupt the players' lives by starting the game up five years early, it fell upon her shoulders to put in the footwork to actually get things going. She would find a venue that fit with everyone's requirements, and convince whomever owned it to let them play there.

Of course, that location ended up being Arbor, one of the most irritating places to travel to. She was not unconvinced she was in some way being punished for her insistence.

(To be continued...)

[wholesomefluffdaddy]

Wednesday's new court mandated therapist is having her keep a journal of her thoughts and feelings. Wednesday finds this to be a complete waste of time and decides instead to use it to record her observations of her unusual roommate Enid Sinclair. Wednesday POV.

——————————————

Entry 16

Current Moon Phase: Waning Crescent 🌘

After taking some time to ponder my affliction, this supposed family curse, I decided to test it's validity. By no means was I going to deliberately put Enid in danger to test my hypothesis but I could at least give her a small fright. Perhaps a spike in her heart rate and adrenaline would be strong enough to cause me similar symptoms if there was indeed this curse.

I set about my plans in secrecy, or at the very least as much as I could with my madness demanding me to be with Enid. I was able to plan in small segments of approximately 30 minutes. I was unfortunately unable to use the full 30 minutes efficiently as about 15 minutes was spent fantasizing about Enid and 5 minutes of myself doubting whether my plan was advisable. I struggled with the remaining minutes left to me as every scenario caused me to feel immense guilt.

After six separate planning periods I finally had my solution: bees. Despite Enid's willingness to join beekeeping club at my request a few years ago she has still maintained a fear of the eusocial flying insects. I find this peculiar as she could have left said club anytime after the one time distraction I needed her to cause. I have no complaints as too her continued membership as it allows us the privacy of the club house for… other activities.

With my goal firmly set in my mind's eye I made haste to find Eugene. If I was to cause Enid a fright I wished to ensure everything was strictly controlled to ensure her safety and that of the bees. Eugene didn't seem to keen on my plan but agreed once I explained I was suffering from a familial curse and wished to test whether Enid was in-fact my soulmate. He was most generous in sharing the variety of bees of which could complete my mission. I decided to go with a simple carpenter bee. Its size and intimidation factor would be sufficient.

My plan was set in motion on an unassuming Saturday afternoon. While Enid and I were both in our dorm I sent Eugene a text message via my cellular telephone. I glanced over at Enid cheerfully decorating her side of the room for the Pagan appropriated Christian holiday. She was hanging garland when the first bee crawled in under the door. Perhaps it was the loud music or perhaps her intense focus on her task at hand but she did not notice as the bee flew around her ears. I turned around in my chair to observe the series of events about to occur.

A fourth and fifth bee had joined by the time Enid began to descend the step ladder she was using to hang her bright and garish decorations. I felt the moment she laid eyes on the first bee. A horrible tightness gripped my chest. Enid's eyes widened and I realized too late in my horror what was about to happen. I scrambled out of my chair before Enid lost her footing. Her body crashed against mine as she tumbled to the ground. She yelped at the sight of my crumpled body beneath her. The wind had been knocked from my lungs and I gasped for air. I watched in my temporarily stunned state as the bees quickly left.

'Willa!' Enid exclaimed. Her panic was my panic. The tightness in my chest only worsened as Enid fretted over me.

'Amor please forgive me!' I begged as soon as I regained my breath. Enid paused in her inspection of me and looked confused.

'Willa, I fell on you.' She half laughed as she pulled me into a hug.

'Yes but it was at my behest that the bees were summoned.' I confessed. I was unworthy of her embrace. However, she did not release me upon hearing my words.

'…What?' Enid asked slowly.

'I asked Eugene to send bees in to-' My next words were cut off as the werewolf's grip on me tightened.

'You what?' She asked louder. I could feel her hurt, anger, and confusion radiating off of her. I could not stop myself from trembling.

'Amor, please let me explain!' I gulped. A fear I had never known had suddenly sunk its claws into me. 'I am so sorry-!'

'Why did you ask Eugene to send bees to our dorm?'

'Only to give you a small fright.'

'A small fright?' Enid asked, pulling back. I winced at the look she gave me.

'Yes.' I swallowed hard. My lover was mad at me and I wished to perish.

'Why?' She asked with narrowing eyes. Death was surely upon me.

'To see if we are soulmates.' I said with haste. Enid said nothing but her curiosity was evident so I continued cautiously. 'I-I was informed recently that I may be suffering from a familial curse-' I explained all the information I had been provided rapidly.

'So you wanted to give me a heart attack to see if you would have one too?' Enid asked. I let out a premature sigh of relief. She seemed to understand.

'Yes, I merely wished to confirm-'

'You're unbelievable.' Enid huffed and released me as she got to her feet.

'But amor just I explained-!' I tried fruitlessly but it was clear Enid did not care to hear anything else I had to say.

'Just stop Wednesday.' She barked with frustration. I fell mute at once. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. 'You've been in therapy for a while so can you please stop and think about why I might be upset?' I blinked slowly as I stared at her. Even in her state of fury she was simply stunning. As soon as she opened her eyes again I hurriedly looked away.

'Yes… I shall consider-' I began meekly. The door to our dorm room slammed shut. Enid had left. I felt numb.

As of writing this, Enid has still not returned. I miss her dearly and I have had much time to reflect upon my erroneous actions. I only wish for Enid's return so that I may beg for her forgiveness.

"Enid! What's up?"

"I'm coming over."

"Wait, what? Why?"

"…"

"Wednesday?"

"Wednesday."

"Got it. What'd the pint sized terror do this time? Hiss at any more cats?"

"She tried to scare me half to death with some giant bees."

"Yikes."

"Yeah."

"…Did she give any reason as to why? Or is it just a Wednesday thing?"

"I'll explain in a minute. Open your door."

"Uh! I'm gonna need you to hang tight for just a moment!"

"Why?"

"Hi Enid!"

"Divina? You're over-? Oh!"

"Sorry pup! Just give us a minute to uh get decent!"

"Oh! Hi Wednesday!"

"Eugene."

"Did the bees work?"

"Unfortunately yes."

"What do you mean unfortunately?"

"I have a favor to ask."

"Sure?"

"I'm dying."

"Oh my god. Did we kill Enid!?"

"No but I was able to confirm the validity of my family's curse."

"Wait, so you're both okay? Or badly injured?"

"Our physical health is fair if not mildly bruised."

"So why are you dying?"

"I… I have invoked Enid's wrath."

"Did she try to kill you?"

"No but it is apparent that I have irreparably damaged our relationship. She… has abandoned me."

"Wednesday are you safe right now? Where are you?"

"I am safe from outward afflictions. Inside however I feel my life force draining."

"What does that mean? Are you still in your dorm?"

"I do not believe it is possible for an Addams to survive if their soulmate ceases to love them in return. I shall await my inevitable demise in our dorm room."

"I'm getting the nurse."

"There is no use. Please find Enid and inform her of my sincerest apologies."

"I'll do both. Hang on Wednesday!"

Dear Diary,

️😑 I'm in love with an idiot. Wednesday still doesn't seem to fully grasp the concept of love/relationships. Today she tried (and succeeded) to scare me half to death. 😵 She said she did it to see if we were soulmates - Which like sounds all sweet and everything but why couldn't she have just talked to me about it first? 😣 Apparently she did it because she's worried about some sort of family curse?

Oh Wednesday…

Anyway, she had Eugene send a bunch of bees into our dorm while I was putting up Christmas decorations. 🐝😱😵 I kinda blew up at her and left to go cool down. I was only gone for like maybe 10 minutes or something. (I couldn't stay mad at her) And when I got back I saw the academy's nurse leaving our dorm! 😱 I ran inside to see Willa laying on her bed with her arms crossed over her chest, which is normal but still, while Eugene talked to her.

I run over and Willa goes through like 5 different emotions in a second as soon as she sees me. She's surprised 😲, then happy 😃, then worried 😥, then scared 😰, then sad/guilty 😭. Eugene looks between us, apologizes for the bees, says goodbye to Wednesday and leaves. I sit down beside Wednesday and ask what the hell is going on.

She takes my hand and starts apologizing profusely. I tell her I accept her apology and ask why the nurse was in. She said she was dying (something about it having to do with the 'family curse') because she thought I didn't love her anymore. 😑

…

I tell her she's stupid and I still love her. (Babycakes is so dramatic! 😅)

Then I made her help me finish decorating as her 'atonement' before smoothing her with cuddles after. She looked like she could use the reassurance.

[arealphrooblem]

Terms of Surrender Part 6

Synopsis: The queen of a doomed city makes the deal her husband refused to make with the conquering warlord outside her city's gates

Part one Here

Part five here:

CW: violence, mentions of blood

A few weeks passed by. The air started to thicken, the summer heat starting to roll in like a fog. The Queen became intensely grateful that propriety no longer dictated the heavy, cloying dresses befitting her former rank. The linen shifts and simple braid kept her cool enough; some days she didn’t even bother changing out of her nightgown, throwing on her lightest housecoat when the Warlord visited.

Such improper dress did nothing to phase him; he responded in kind, showing up some evenings in flowy linen pants and short sleeved shirts. In fact, the heat did not seem to phase him at all. The sun loved him, darkening his tawny skin until it glowed sepia in the setting rays. His hair shone like a raven’s wing.

In the growing humidity it had started to curl and the Queen found her gaze catching on his fingers when he ran his hand through it, wondering how soft his hair might feel. It was one of many distractions and they left her win-loss record in chess in shambles.

“Does something trouble you?” the Warlord asked as he tipped over her king. “You have played rather abysmally as of late. Each of my victories are becoming more and more embarrassing.”

How can she explain that the sight of his bare forearms as he reaches across the board, the elegant grip of his calloused fingers, the errant curl that sticks out above his right ear, is  driving her faintly mad?

“It is the heat,” she said instead. “I don’t see how you remain so unbothered by it.”

He smiled. “This is nothing. It gets much hotter back home.” Then his brow furrowed. “Are you uncomfortable? Is there anything you need?”

“I am the most comfortable prisoner in the world,” she said with a smile and a shake of her head.

“So you say. But I have a feeling you would not tell me if you weren’t.”

The Queen laughed at this. “Are you worried you’re a bad host to a prisoner of war? Everything I have is more than anyone in my position deserves or receives. It’s absurd that you should worry so much for my sake.”

He opened his mouth to retort and then closed it with a pensive look. “You’re right. Yet I seem to worry anyway.”

The warlord’s brow furrowed, as if this thought bothered him. She could only guess at the possible discomfiture at feeling guilty over a necessary imprisonment, the price paid for owning what he took. A potential weakness.

She would not want him to dwell on it, for multiple reasons.

“Do you miss home?” she asked.

He pondered over a rook. “Sometimes. Home is so entwined with my father and his rule that it hasn’t felt like mine. I’ve always been drawn to this place, though, and not just because none of my ancestors managed to successfully capture it before me. It’s a beautiful city, with much to envy. I visited once as a child and could never stop dreaming of it.”

“You came here?” she asked, surprised. “When?”

“I was but a boy — perhaps nine or ten years old. I came with my father and grandfather.”

He is not so much older than her that she wouldn’t remember this. But the past remains vague in her memory. She vaguely recalls such a visit, the peculiarity and anxiety around it, as his country and hers did not often have cordial visits after so much history of war.

“I must have met you but I don’t remember,” she said softly.

The corner of his mouth lifted up. “I didn’t either at first, but I do now. We met only once, at the first dinner. You were very shy and I didn’t speak your language so well then.  Your father sent you and your mother away for the rest of my trip. I think we made him nervous.”

The memory began to crystallize in her mind. She could recall a dark-eyed boy in strange clothes sitting across from her.

“Did I . . .help you ask for more water?” she says slowly, trying to grab hold of the memory before it slipped through her fingers again.

“Yes, And a smaller knife.”

She gasped. “I remember that. That was you?”

 It changed things, somehow: that he could have been a familiar face that night in his tent. That he recognized her even now. That she knew him before war had changed him.

“Is that why I’m . . . here?” she asked.

“You’re here for a number of reasons,” he replied. “But I can’t . . .discount that memory as a factor. You have not changed much from the kindness that I remember.”

“It was not kindness so much as common decency,” she pointed out, uncomfortable with the flattery.

He gave her another smile, this one tinged with sorrow. “You are not common. Not in my experience.”

More and more often the Warlord brought her matters of state to gather her advice on. He kept the specifics vague; she often did not know who he was dealing with. But she informed him of past decisions her father and husband had made, how they affected commerce and politics, the successes and failures that she could predict. It flattered her that he valued her insight so much; it also gave her hope that such value would become a guarantee to continue living.

Each morning her fears diminished. She found peace and contentment in the quiet monotony of her days. With no husband to monitor, no divided court to appease, no ever-shifting responsibilities, no appearances to keep up, the Queen experienced true happiness for the first time in her life.

Perhaps that was why she failed to notice the new face among her guards that day, or the way he slipped in her rooms after the maid delivering dinner stepped out.

“Come, my lady. We have little time,” he said, stepping close.

The queen blinked, uncomprehending.  “What?”

“The Warlord is on his way to join you. We must leave before he gets here.”

He took her wrist and tugs her towards the door to her bedroom. She resisted, planting her feet, her other hand gripping the back of the chair.

“Who are you? Where would you take me?”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “I’ve been sent by a friend of your husband and we are running out of time. Would you stay in this captivity until he executes you? Or would you have your freedom and take your country back?”

Her freedom. She could almost laugh in his face. What freedom could be found in becoming someone else’s pawn for the throne yet again?

The guard did not wait for her to answer. He gripped her roughly and dragged her across the room. She allowed him to take her as far as the door between her room and the Warlord’s before she threw her entire weight backwards, hard enough to send her tumbling to the ground and breaking his grip.

She scrambled to her feet and dashed back towards the sitting room, but the guard was both stronger and faster than her. His hands closed around the back of her dress and yanked her backwards, the neckline choking her. In an instant he had her pinned against the wall, wrists twisted behind her back, knife at her throat. The blade nicked the skin of her neck.

“You have sat in a gilded cage while your peers have suffered and foreign filth taints our home. You may be content with that, but they are not. I am taking you to the resistance by force or by choice, but I am taking you nonetheless.”

His bruising grip did not lessen as he led her through the Warlord’s chambers, out of the servant door and into an empty hallway. The queen debated fighting again, but she knew these halls more than him. It would do better to wait for a better opportunity to slip away.

That hope dashed to pieces when the guard pulled her into a scullery filled with at least six other men. She could run from one man, but not all six.

“Watch her,” the guard warned as he locked the door behind them. “She has sold her kingdom out for a pretty cage. She will run at the first opportunity to return to it.”

The hopeful expressions of the men disintegrated into something ugly and resentful. They surrounded her on all sides as they led her into the back kitchen gardens. By now the late evening sun had slipped behind the castle walls, keeping the gardens in rapidly growing darkness.

With every step her hope of escape died a little more. The list of men who were both honorable and counted among her husband’s friends was short and full of the deceased. The thought of being turned against the one man who had never seen her as a tool made her sick, and the thought of marrying another power hungry fool made her want to draw blood.

“I think you have something of mine.”

The sound of the Warlord’s voice, soft and quiet, stopped everyone in their tracks. The sounds of swords yanked from their scabbards followed quickly after. Out of the shadows the Warlord stepped forward, almost as if they had borne him.

“She was never yours, you filthy, sand-stained mongrel,” growled the guard who took her, shoving her behind him. “And we will not let your heathen ways taint her any further.”

The Warlord’s eyes flickered to hers. Even in the fading light the coldness of his gaze froze her to the spot.

“Do you feel tainted, my lady?” he asked mildly.

She wanted to scream her denial all the way up to God. She wanted to fight and shove her way to him. But the look in his eyes dried up every word before it could escape.

It was a look of death and ruin.

Countless stories of the Warlord’s terrifying, blood thirsty ways circulated viciously during the war. None of it could compare to seeing it in person. Despite the odds, the dying light, the Warlord cut down each man with brutal, excruciating efficiency. And when they all lay on the ground, he stuck his sword through each of their heads through the eye.

It was over in a matter of seconds. The Warlord stared at her, blood in his hair, dripping down his neck, soaking the front of his shirt and none of it his, and terror quite unlike anything she had never known seized her.

“Explain,” he said.

Fear had stolen her words. She couldn’t piece them together, couldn’t stop shaking.

He took a step forward and she stumbled backwards. Blood coated the blade of his sword.

“I will not ask you again,” he said. His voice shook with barely repressed rage.

“I — I didn’t go willingly,” she said hoarsely. “He came in with — with dinner. He said he was with a friend of my h-husband. He took me. I - I didn’t know how to get away.”

Her voice broke on the last word. And the cold fury of his gaze shattered into heartbreak.

“You are a fool for thinking I would believe that,” he said sadly. “But I am a bigger fool for wanting to.”

He did not take her to the dungeons himself. After his men appeared to collect her, he did not spare her another glance.

Part 7 here

Taglist:

@cesspitoflove@aprilraine@talesofurbania1@sarcasticlittlebook @hasel-anne @weaverofbrokenthreads @prismaticpizza @tantive404

[pearlypairings]

I wish you’d write a fic where Trip finds out T’Pol is ticklish

your wish is my command! so much so, that I also posted this ficlet on ao3 as my first ever fic for Enterprise<3

trip x t'pol || fluff, humor, banter || ~1k wc

“You know, when I got the pitch to join Starfleet, I was promised unimaginable adventure, opportunity for technological innovation, a chance to advance mankind in the unchartered territory of space,” Trip lamented, shimmying his upper body to lay flat on his back. “No one mentioned the hours I’d spend trapped in a cargo box with our First Officer.”

T’Pol did not budge; she laid extremely still. In fact, if Trip’s eyes hadn’t adjusted from the past few hours of being held here in the pitch black, he would have been more concerned she’d passed out or fell into some weird Vulcan stasis. But he could see her chest inflate and shrink ever so slightly with what could be made out in the darkness of their snug crate.

They had been sent on an exploration mission for discreet observation only, no contact allowed with the vulnerable, primitive species on the newly discovered M-class Planet. But when their transport had been unintentionally found by the native humanoid species during a windstorm, they’d set it aflame along with most of their medical and survival supplies. Their comms were able to reach the Enterprise, but the transporter pads had already been halted for routine maintenance and would take hours to be put back online.

Instructed to hide safely away from the paranoid populace, Trip and T’pol followed orders and snuck into a storage lot, quickly picking an inconspicuous box to stow away in when the lot was inundated by workers. They had to wait inside, even after the area mostly cleared for midday meals, until their transporter pads or a rescue team would be dispatched. Armed with only phase pistols and communicators, they were hardly enjoying the hours cramped together without any breaks or provisions.

Trip tried to stretch his neck out, but the top of his head met resistance with the scrap wood surrounding them. A bead of disappointed sweat slipped down his spine. He sighed.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were dead. Anybody home?”

She stirred, just a little, near his left side. Her voice kept unusually quiet despite how close they were to each other.

“I would not call this a ‘home,’ Commander Tucker. I also find our predicament exceedingly unpleasant and am trying to meditate until we are free to return to Enterprise.”

“Meditate? Is that all you Vulcans do, meditate? Can you meditate this box to be bigger—because my legs….even my arms….are killin’ me.” Trip said with biting sarcasm, gradually uncurling his elbows maneuvering within the confines of their temporary prison.

“Vulcans do meditate regularly to control our emotions. Something you would likely greatly benefit from, it seems.” T’pol said coolly. “Here, allow me to move so you can have more space for your limbs and your untempered feelings.”

As the slender Vulcan acquiesced to her side allowing him to press his hands out and down, something peculiar happened. His fingers grazed T’pol’s side with the motion—they’d both moved simultaneously, getting in each other’s way as a result. Despite the heat and humid climate, her suit was fairly dry and cooler than his palm, a relief actually from the suffocating heat. Trip could feel the gentle curve of her rib, and for a moment, he wondered if Vulcan women had the same number of ribs as the human counterpart.  His musing didn’t last long as his fingers found the dip of her waist and with it, a hard knee in his thigh and the galaxy’s tiniest squeak. Luckily, his pistol was hitched to his other side, outside of where T’pol could flinch into him.

“Commander, please remove your hand—” T’pol pressed out, squirming uncomfortably and still deeply puncturing his leg with her knee. She sucked in a deep breath. “My side is….sensitive. I am afraid I will hurt you or worse, ruin the mission by being located.”

His hand retreated with the bend of his elbow, letting the rough surface of the wood scratch at his skin. Trip’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you tellin’ me you’re ticklish?”

Her pinned effort to drill a hole into his leg relaxed with the absence of his stretch. T’pol shifted beside him to move onto her back once more, stiffening her arms across her chest.

“I am saying that sensation is extremely…discomforting.”

“I didn’t know Vulcans, with all their peace and control nonsense, could be tickled.” Trip said in awe. A chuckle tumbled out as he turned to face her and at the same time, allow more space for her.

“I assure you this is not typical.”

“Still, I’m keeping note of that for a later date.”

“Hmm,” she murmured. Even in the dark haze of their box, her profile looked pointed and pretty. There was no denying that.

“You know, I was thinkin’—”

Trip’s offer was cut off by the sound of his communicator's incoming signal beeping. Archer’s voice filled the hollow of their box.

“Commander Tucker, T’pol. We’re ready to extract you from the location designated by your communicators. Hold tight a little longer and we’ll have you back on board in no time.”

Trip clicked his receiver. “Message received, sir. Get the mess hall ready for us, ‘cause I’m starving.”

“I’ll turn that request into an order, Trip. See you sooner than later. Archer Out.”

T’pol turned back on her side, slowly this time to look at him. He could barely see the faint reflection of her eyes as she stared at him in the restored silence.

“If you make anyone aware on the Enterprise, Commander Tucker—” “Alright, alright. I know a threat when I hear one. I swear on my dear mother I won’t say a word to anyone else…..” He smirked. “For now. You’ll owe me one.”

[halfusek]

Memory Joey’s Intangibleness

Sooooo I think it’s probably just one of those things that the developers didn’t think too much about but it’s been driving me up the fricking wall

If Joey is supposed to be “just a memory” and “ghost-like”, as it is established the first two times we see him-

then how come does this happen??

Like really he doesn’t have to take that at all, he could just phase out of existence or whatever...

...or can he?

I’ve given this some thought and came up with two versions I found most interesting:

1. He can phase out but he doesn’t do that to be there for Audrey. Maybe he’s hoping that seeing him get absolutely deaded will somehow help Audrey “snap out of it” and take control of this weird fusion she’s having with the Ink Demon...? I’ll be honest I don’t really understand how they’re supposed to be fused and why. But she sure does take control after Joey gets crushed, so I assume she needed that mental push. Joey could have known that or not, maybe he just wanted to be there for her, which would be kinda wholesome. I guess making a sacrifice like that in a circle that revives everyone every time it restarts is not that big of a deal so he could afford to give that a chance even if not knowing if that’d actually help or not.

2. He became tangible after retrieving The End reel from The Pit. Yeah. You heard me right. Theory time babey.

Honestly, it’s something easy to miss, I’m sure I did while playing because I couldn’t remember what the goal is at any given moment, but in this part of the game you are supposed to get to the Pit. Except... we never do.

When we get to the entrance of The Pit, the security system kicks in.

And we get got by the Keeper here and escorted to Wilson.

(Though “The Pit” could be just the name of that hole the Keeper crawls out of but either way what it guards the way to is not accessed by us and that’s where The End reel is supposed to be.)

"That's where the ghosts live. Just beyond that door. The Keeper's prison. The Pit. No one ever comes out. At least, they're not quite the same."

We don’t know much about the pit aside from this one quite peculiar fact: that’s where the ghosts live. Maybe even Joey, despite being one himself, can’t just go in and out of there without any repercussions.

And - watch out guys here is something I like about BATDR for once - it is quite cool that Joey is the one to retrieve it as it seems like a very dangerous place, so if the gang (Audrey, Henry, Allison, Tom) tried to do that, they’d very likely be badly affected somehow. Good job game, I like when you establish something and then follow it up logically, very cool.

So, yeah, my theory is that going to The Pit to get The End reel did something to Memory Joey making him less of a ghost than he was before (at least until his death in this cycle, I suppose).