#(hopefully yet unlikely not literally)

[steventhusiast]

STWG prompt 2/6/24

prompt: coming out

pairing/character(s): steddie, Dustin, Lucas, Mike

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Eddie fucked up. Big time.

See, he's truly embraced his freak status at Hawkins High. Meaning he doesn't exactly shy away from his queerness. He doesn't confirm it, not for people he's not friends with. It's just useful. Being gay is the kind of 'freak' that makes the popular kids steer clear from him, just in case they, you know, catch the queer from him.

But with his fellow freaks? They know he's gay.

In fact, they know he has a boyfriend.

He never shares who said boyfriend is, or the fact that he used to be nicknamed The Hair, because Steve doesn't want anyone to know. He's.. private about his sexuality, to say the least. And Eddie gets it. Hawkins is in the middle of nowhere, it's not exactly gay-friendly like some parts of bigger cities. So his friends don't know who his boyfriend is.

They won't until well after Steve's come out to his own friends, which he hasn't said he's ready for yet. Eddie's letting him go at his own pace, he doesn't even bring it up to him. He doesn't want Steve to feel pressured. Steve doesn't have a Wayne there to support him through everything, after all.

Anyway, despite him being anonymous, Eddie always gives everyone an update on his boyfriend before they start the session of DnD each week. It's kind of a bit for everyone involved at this point.

And in the first session that Eddie's newest fresh sheep attend, he refuses to shy away from it. Either they'll be bigots (unlikely) or they'll be fine with it! It's a risk he's willing to take for his pride.

So he gives the update.

"How's your boyfriend, Ed?" Gareth asks with a teasing grin, and Eddie's closest friends lean toward him with giggles.

"Well, my sweetheart has had a great week. Remember that job I told you he'd applied for?"

"Assistant basketball coach for a kids team?" Jeff checks, and Eddie points at him like he's just scored a point.

"That's the one! He got the job! It's a bit of a drive but it sure as shit beats the minimum wage bullshit he was doing before. I swear, his manager actually hates his guts for no reason."

The existing Hellfire members all cheer at the news, whilst one of the new recruits, Henderson, makes an inquisitive noise and chuckles.

"That's crazy, because my friend Steve called me yesterday with super similar news! Small world, huh?" He says it so casually, looking down straight after to fiddle with his dice.

But Eddie feels like the world stops, his hands freezing in the middle of unfolding his dungeon master screen. Fuck. Henderson is one of Steve's kids.

Maybe no one has actually caught on yet. A sneaky glance to his friends reveals nothing but confused frowns on their faces.

"You guys might have known Steve, actually. Steve Harrington? Used to be a mega asshole through most of high school." Wheeler says in a way that somehow sounds simultaneously fond and like he despises Steve.

"He's great now, though! Like, totally reformed. Such a mom." Sinclair adds on.

Eddie nods passively at their words, and feels Gareth, Jeff and Paul's eyes on him. Right, he's still frozen in shock. He forces himself to relax, and finally finishes setting up the DM screen.

"Haha, what a coincidence." He manages, clearing his throat in the middle to clear up an unfortunate voice crack.

That voice crack gets all three of the kids to tilt their heads at him, and then their eyes light up like they've just won the lottery.

Shit shit shit. Hopefully they haven't put two and two together.

Somehow, he manages to make it through the session without revealing anything else, but as he draws it to a close his heart starts beating faster. He doesn't know how he didn't put it together before that these kids are Steve's kids. Steve is literally going to be late to their date night because he has to pick them up from an afterschool activitiy.

What other club meets up on a Friday but Hellfire?

He shakes his head and starts speeding through packing up his stuff. He's going through in his head ways to apologise to Steve in case the kids have figured it out, heart beating out of his chest as he zips his backpack up and leaves the room. The group of newbies run out after him, though.

"Eddie, wait up!" Henderson shouts after him, and he winces but stops.

"What's up?" He says with what he hopes is a smile but is probably a grimace.

"It's so funny how you're Steve's secret boyfriend." Henderson says with a giggle after he's checked no one else has left the drama room yet.

Wait, what? Eddie frowns at him, mouth open. Before he can question anything Sinclair nods along in agreement.

"We've been guessing for weeks now. You can't tell him we found out through you, I want to win our bet."

"If we figure out who his boyfriend is by the end of the month he's taking us to that tabletop RPG store in Indy." Wheeler adds on.

Eddie gapes at them for another second.

"Wait, Steve- he came out to you? When?" He manages, and the three boys tilt their heads at him.

"Like, since a month ago?" Sinclair guesses after a moment of thought, and Eddie lets out a quiet 'huh'.

"What, do you guys not talk about that shit?" Henderson asks, and Eddie shakes his head slowly, thinking back on if he had been told and had just forgotten.

Then it clicks. Just under a month ago, Steve had started to bring up the topic of coming out, and Eddie had gently insisted he didn't mind if Steve never came out and that he loves him anyway and he doesn't want him to feel pressured. And Steve had smiled fondly and let it go.

Had Steve been trying to tell him he came out to his kids?

He lets his head drop and takes a few deep breaths, trying to slow his heart rate. Thank fuck. He hasn't just accidentally outed his boyfriend.

"He's actually waiting for us in his car. I would say come with, but..."

"We're serious about this bet."

Eddie nods, and waves his hand in their general direction.

"Yeah, of course. Sure. You- you go win that bet. Jesus christ."

He hears them walk away and lets out an incredulous laugh to himself before he hears the drama room door swing open again, the chatter of Jeff, Gareth and Paul cutting off when they see the state he's in.

"You good, man?" Paul asks, and Eddie just lets out a sigh.

"Totally fine. Just thinking about wooing my sweetheart." He says, like they've walked into a joke he's set up.

They all groan, but continue walking toward the school's exit, and Eddie stays there, recovering from that shitshow.

[heartsandhischier]

definitely the annoying little brother

luke hughes x female!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader

summary - 5.2k words. living in an apartment with your best friend is great, but living in an apartment with your best friend and his brother... not so great

author's note - so... got a little carried away with this one, might write a part 2 idk yet but I love cocky Luke

warnings - mentions of alcohol, swearing, smut (first time writing so hopefully it isn't total shit)

When you first moved to New Jersey, you felt completely lost. Don’t take it the wrong way, it was great—a prestigious college, a change of scenery, and the promise of a fresh start. But your journey took an unexpected turn when you bumber into someone, quite literally crashed into someone, drenching him in your freshly bought coffee.

That someone was Jack, who had also just moved to New Jersey after being drafted by the New Jersey Devils. Like you, he was lost, navigating the unfamiliar terrain of a new beginning. Quickly, you became best friends, each other’s anchor in this new and unfamiliar state. You were each other’s confidants and biggest supporters, always there to lift one another up, no matter the challenge—cheering him on from the stands during his rookie year while he helped you with your schoolwork, or at least tried to…

You supported each other through thick and thin.

When you suddenly found yourself without an apartment, Jack didn’t hesitate to offer you his guest room. What started as a temporary arrangement soon turned into something more permanent, as both of you realized that living together just felt right. What was meant to be a short-term solution naturally evolved into a lasting living situation.

When Luke was drafted, you were perched on the edge of your seat in the apartment, eyes glued to the screen in anticipation as the New Jersey Devils prepared to announce their pick. The moment Luke’s name was called, you jumped up from the couch, overwhelmed with joy. You were thrilled, not just for Luke, but because you knew how much this meant to Jack—being able to play alongside his brother, to grow and improve together on the ice. You watched the screen as Jack sprung from the couch, shaking with excitement. He had told you before, that if Luke was drafted by the Devils, he would move into the apartment. Rather than feeling any apprehension, your strong friendship with Jack made you excited to live with the two brothers.

But here you were, pounding angrily on the shared bathrrom door, “LUKE! Are you fucking kidding me? I’m gonna be late!” The reality of living with Luke was far from pleasant or fun as you had imagined.

Luke was definetely the annoying brother of the three.

Unlike Jack, who was always kidn and considerate, Luke seemed to barely tolerate your presence. He often made snide, witty comments, as if he took some kind of pleasure in getting under your skin.

The apartment had turned into a warzone, filled with incessant arguing, shouting, and tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. In jack’s absence, there was no one to play the peacemaker, no one stopping the two of you from getting at each others throats. Luke was leaving the bathroom a mess, his toiletries scattered everywhere, piling dirty dishes in the sink, not even bothering to put them in the dishwasher, and even taking your clothes out of the dryer and dumping them on the floor so he could use the machine. He even went as far as throwing a party the night before your midterm.You couldn’t hep but feel like he was doing all of this on purpose. You knew he was raised well, with proper manners and common decency—Jack was living proof of that. You knew, you knew he was doing it on purpose. Luke was intentionally firing you up, pushing your buttons. And what bothered you the most, was that it was working.

Luke finally unlocked the bathroom door, and as he swung the it open, a cloud of steam escaped into the hallway. His hair damp, a towel casually wrapped around his waist, showing off his toned muscles. “You don’t need to spend that much time in the bathroom, especially when you end up looking like that,” you snapped, arms crossed in frustration.

“Like what? Incredibly handsome?” Luke shot back, a smug smirk spreading across his face.

“No, like shit,” you fired back, not missing a beat.

“Well, you’re not exactly a sight for sore eyes yourself. So you don’t really need the bathroom before school anyways,” he chuckled, clearly satisfied with his comeback. Annoyed, you rolled your eyes and pushed past him, eager to get on with your day.

-

“Come on Y/N,” Jack whined, his voice dragging, practically on his knees, begging. His team was heading out to celebrate their victory from the night before, and with your schedule finally clear after endless stress, Jack insisted that you’d join them, arguing that you deserved a break. However, his team included a certain someone—Luke. The thought of spending hours into the night, subjected to Luke’s endless barbs and comments, now potentially amplified by alcohol, spelled nothing but trouble in your mind.

“I’ll put you on my tab, if you come,” he offered wiggling his eyebrows, trying to sweeten the deal with the promise of a free night out. You couldn’t help but laugh at his desperation, “Come on, we both know you’d do that anyways,” you teased, narrowing your eyes playfully at him.

“Please, I’ll clean the bathroom for the next three weeks,” he proposed.

“Four weeks.”

“Fine, four weeks. And I’ll make you lunch for those weeks too,” he said, extending his hand in a peace offering.

“Deal. But I’ll skip on the lunch since you barely know how to cook brocolli.”

-

“Aren’t we going to wait for Luke?” you asked, slipping into your boots, a hint of curiousity in your voice. Jack chuckled at your questiong, catching your eyes in the mirror as he straigthened his jacket. “What, have you suddenly become best friend with your ‘enemy’?” he teased. “Absolutely not,” you snorted, “Just wanted to know if I needed to prepare for a battle to get us in the back seat.”

The Uber sped through the bustling streets of New York, skyscrapers flashing by in a blur. Luke had headed out erly with Holtz and Mercer, granting you a rare moment of peace on the drive to the club, free from the usual bickering.

The elevator chimed, announding your arrival at the club’s level. As the doors slid open, you were greeted by a breathtaking panoramic view of New York City—the virbant lights and endless stretched out before you, leaving you momentarily speechless. “Pretty sick, right?” Jack playfully nudged you, his smile infectious, clearly proud of the evening’s choice. The club’s interior buzzed with energy, packed with people moving rhythmically beneath the glow of shimmering lights. The music enveloped the space, so loud and deep that the bass seemed to vibrate through the very floor. With a reassuring grip, jack took your hand and guided you through the crowd, weaving towards the table where his teammates were gathered.

They all excitedly greeted the two of you, ushering you both to join them at the table. You loved Jack’s teammates—they were just as kind and welcoming as him, making everyone feel included and part of the fun. They had a way of making you feel like you belonged, as if you were a part of the team.

And then there was Luke.

He didn’t even glance in your direction when you approached the table, too invested in his conversation with Timo to care—yeah sure.

As soon as you sat down, the drinks were served—Jack with his usual beer, and for you, a Tom Collins, your all-time favourite. You couldn’t help but chuckle, Jack had even gone out of his way to make sure you got your favourite drink.

After a few more drinks and plenty of hearty laughs, Jack pulled you out of your seat and onto the dance floor. The music immediately took over as you started moving, and you found yourself actually enjoying the moment. Dancing with Jack, you felt genuinely happy, grateful that you’d agreed to go out. In that moment, you forgot all about his annoying little brother.

Dancing, completely lost in the ruthm and music, you noticed your glass was empty. Sldiding through the crowd, you made your way to the bar, skillfully navigating the sea of people, all moving to the same infectious beat. The bartenders were a blur of activity, moving with swift precision as they tried to keep up with the endless stream of orders shouted by eager club-goers.

While waiting to be served, you suddenly felt a hand wrap around your waist. Startled, you turned around, meeting the drunken gaze of a stranger. “What are you getting beautiful?” he slurred. He was undeniably handsome, but the whole encounted made you feel uncomfortable. You tried to respond, but only managed to stumble out an incoherent answer.

He leaned in closed, his breath hot against your ear, “Why don’t I buy you a drink, and then we can continue the party at my place?” a shiver ran down your spine, and not the good kind. All you could muster was a sheepish smile, your mind racing for a way out. In a sudden, unwelcome move, he leaned in, clearly aiming for a kiss. You froze, unable to move, instinctively shutting your eyes, bracing for impact.

But the kiss never came. Eyes still closed, you heard commotion.

“Back off. She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Opening your eyes, you found Luke standing between you and the stranger, his body tense as he had pushed the man away, shielding you from his advances.

“You okay?” Luke asked, his voice softening as he lightly brushed your arm, his towering presence offering an unexpected sense of security. You looked up at him, slowly giving a small nod, your mind still racing. What the fuck just happened?

Without missing a beat, Luke turned to signal the bartender, “Two Tom Collins’ please.” The bartender nodded in acknowledgement and swiftly got to work on the drinks.

As he handed you one of the glasses, Luke’s hand gently found its way to the small of your back, guiding you with a suprising tenderness toward the dance floor. The music, once again, enveloped you, its rhythm quickly helping you forget the uncomfortable encounter at the bar.

You found yourself dancing close to Luke, closer than you had ever been before. You felt weirdly comfortable in Luke’s presence, and it seemed he noticed, his hand resting gently on your hips, his voice teasing. “For someone who complains so much about me, you seem pretty okay with standing this close to me.”

His comment took you by surprise, a rush of warmth flooding your cheeks. You quickly retorded, trying to mask your fluster, “Trust me, if the club wasn’t this packed, I’d be standing lightyears away from you.”

Luke smirked, leaning in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “Or maybe you’ve just realised how much you actually enjoy my company. All those complaints might just be your way of getting my attention.”

You sturggled to maintain your composure, caught off guard by the unexpected closeness. “Dream on Luke. If I wanted your attention I’d just lock myself in the bathroom with you,” you shot back, trying to sound unfazed.

“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you,” he replied with that damn smirk—you wished you could just slap it off his face.

What. Was. Happening?

Confused and a bit flustered, you mustered up an excuse and rushed through the lively crowd toward Jack at the table.

“Enjoying youself?” Jack’s voice pulled you back to reality, his tone playful as he nudged you.

“Fine!” You responed, rolling our eyes at him. “I’m having fun. But you didn’t have to make them get my favourite drink,” you laughed, giving into his bright smile.

Jack joined the laughter, but there was in his response that made it seem like he was laughing at you, not with you. He tilted his head, genuinely puzzled as he looked at you. “I didn’t tell anyone to order your favourite drink.”

“Well, who’s in charge of the tab tonight?”

“Luke.”

-

The next few weeks, you did everything you could to avoid Luke. The whole situation at the club… it left you confused. It was so unexpected, yet for some reason, you didn’t mind the closeness that you felt that night. But you couldn’t face him. You started waking up hours earlier than necessary just to avoid the usual bathroom fight, lingering around for extrahours before class or work. It was ruining your sleep schedule, but you convinced yourself it was for the best.

Your eyes were glued to the bright screen of your phone—3 AM. You let out a frustrated sigh. You couldn’t sleep. The room felt like an oven, the early arrival of summer in New Jersey wrapping your bedroom in an unbearable warmth. The stress of upcoming exams weighed heavily on your mind. And the thought of having to get up in just two hours to avoid Luke didn’t help much either.

Defeated, you pushed yourself out of bed, sliding into your fluffy slippers. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you sighed—you looked a mess. Hair tied up in a messy bun, and Jack’s New Jersey Devils t-shirt hung loosely around you.

Whatever.

At this ungodly hour, no one would see you anyway.

Carefully, you pushed the door open, trying to minimise the telltale creak. With light steps, you tiptoed down the hallway, heading for the kitchen. The gentle glow from the counter lights greeted you, casting a soft, inviting glow over the room—Jack must’ve left it on. However, the comfort quickly turned into dismay when you spotted the very person you’d been trying to hard to avoid for weeks on end—Luke. His back was turned, his curly messy, and a pair of pajama pants hung loosely around his waist. His back muscles, his shoulders—everything was on display.

The sight of him triggered an immediate fight-or-flight response—you needed to get out of there before he noticed you. You turned your heel, but your slippers betrayed you with a sharp squeak against the floor.

“Going somewhere?”

You cleared your throat, gathering the courage to face him as you slowly turned around. There he was, casually leaning against the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal cradled in his hands—his midnight snack. “Just needed some water. Didn’t realise I had company,” you managed to say, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

He let out a soft chuckle, the spoon in his bowl making lazy circles. “Can’t sleep either, huh? The kitchen’s open for all, y’know.” He wasn’t wrong. Despite your efforts to keep your distance, you did in fact live together, and spaces like the kitchen were neutral ground, even at 3 AM.

“Yeah, I… I guess I’ll just grab that water then,” you replied, navigating the awkward silence that filled the room. You reached for a glass and made your way to the sink—coincidentally right next to where Luke was enjoying his cereal. His presence towering over you as you filled your glass with water.

“You know, for two people who claim to hate each other, we do end up in the same place a lot,” Luke observed with a smirk that you could feel rather than see.

You scoffed, trying to maintain a façade of indifference. “We live in the same apartment, Luke, and your brother is my best friend. Don’t get it twisted.”

“Well, you’re wearing my t-shirt, so don’t blame me for getting the ‘wrong idea’,” he countered.

“This is Jack’s.”

He chuckled lightly. “I’ve been looking for it for weeks, thought I lost it. But now I know you just wanted to feel like you were sleeping next tome.”

You scoffed, annoyed. “In your dreams, asshole.”

He stepped closer, closing the distance between you to mere inches. “Y’know, you could’ve just asked. I’d gladly let you sleep in bed with me,” he said, the smirk evident in his voice as he towered over you.

Heart racing, your voice caught in your throat at the sudden proximity. In a moment of panic, you retreated, mumbling an incoherent “I have to go,” as you hastily made your escape.

-

The usual calm and comfortable space of your apartment was transformed tonight into lively space buzzing with energy, laughter, and booze. It was Jack’s birthday, and as his best friend, you were determined to throw him the best celebration possible—a surprise party. You pulled all the strings, inviting friends and teammates, and with the off-season granting a rare break, Trevor, Cole, and Alex were able to join the festivities. As you navigated the cluster of people, a glass nestled gently in your grasp, your gaze inadvertently landed on Luke. By his side stood a girl whose laughter harmonised so seamlessly with his, it almost seemed choreographed.

A strange unease began to coil within you at the sight. There was Luke, entiraly absorbed in conversation with whoever this girl was, and something about it unsettled you deeply.

“Seems like Luke’s really hitting it off, huh?” Trevor’s voice cut through the hum of the party, his tone playful yet pointed as he caught your fixed gaze and gave a teasing nudge.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you responded, striving for indifference even as you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You weren’t sure why, but the sight of Luke and that girl, felt like it lodged itself in your chest.

Jack’s laughter soon joined in, bright and unaware of the subtle tension you were feeling. He slapped your shoulder playfully, “Luke’s always been a charmer. Who’s the lucky lady this time?”

You attempted a nonchalant shrug, trying to shake off the knot forming in your stomach. “No idea.”

-

“This is nice isn’t it?”

The sun was shining, pouring its warmth over Jersey City, a gentle breeze complementing the heat perfectly.

As you wandered through the city with Jack, it felt like old times, just the two of you. His excitement was contagious, sparking a lightness that had been missing for too long.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. And we live together!” he joked, playfully nudging you, but you could sense the underlying truth in his words—he genuinely missed these moments together.

And he was right, it had been a while. The efforts you’d put into avoiding Luke had eventually affected Jack as well, since the two of the basically shared the same schedule. You didn’t want to tell him the truth—that you were avoiding Luke and then possibly having to explain why.

“Yeah, I’ve missed this, it’s just that I’ve been drowning in schoolwork lately.” It was a bad excuse, but it was the best and most realistic you could come up with.

Deciding to take advantage of the beautiful day, you suggested heading to one of your favourite cafes. The idea of soaking up some sun while catching up seemed perfect. Once you found a spot in the outdoor seating area, you offered to go in and order for the two of you. By the time you returned with to coffees, the dynamic at your table had unexpectedly changed. Two additional figures were now seated beside Jack, their curls a dead giveawat—you recognised those curls anywhere. A sigh escaped your lips as Jack, beaming with enthusiasm, gestured towards them. “Hey, Y/N! Look who I found!” the two curlyheads turned to face you, John and Luke greeting you with smiles, with Luke’s carrying his signature, teasing smirk.

Reluctantly, you put on a fake smile and settled into the chair next to Jack, doing your best to remain composed, polite, and NOT awkward. The conversation flowed effortlessly around you, but you remained quiet, occasionally offering a nod or a brief reply. Your eyes shifted between John and Jack, deliberately avoiding Luke, as if by ignoring him, you could somehow make the situation less complicated.

Eventually , John and Luke made their casual exit. You managed a tight smile and a polite wave, holding on to your façade of composure until they were out of sight. The moment they were gone, jack’s attention snapped back to you, his brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity. “Why were you acting so weird?”

Suddenly, the café’s cosy outdoor setting felt more like an interrogation room, and you were in the hot seat.

“Wha-what do you mean?” your voice wavered despite the smile you plastered on. “I was not!” you countered, hoping the denial sounded more convincing to his ears than it did to yours.

Jack’s eyes widened in shock, as if he had just cracked the code. The revelation seemed to knock him off balance, almost sending him tumbling off his chair. “Oh my god,” he whispered, a mix of genuine shock and amusement in his voice as a chuckle escaped.

“You’re sleeping with John, aren’t you?”

A wave of relief washed over you at his misinterpretation. It was better than telling him about Luke, right? After all, jack was still Luke’s older brother, and you couldn’t risk jeopardising your friendship with Jack, even if whatever was going on with Luke meant something.

Caught between the fear of losing your best friend and the chaos of the moment, you found yourself nodding along before the word “yes” tumbled out. And now, you possibly just made your situation even messier.

-

Once again, you found yourself at a bar with Jack and his teammates, the night serving as a farewell toast before everyone dispered for the off-season. The bar buzzed with a contagious mix of laughter and the clinking of glasses, everyone savouring each other’s company before the inevitable goodbyes. Throughout the evening, you’d successfully avoided both Luke and john, skillfully navigating the minefield of awkward encounters. You also… may have indulged in a few too many drinks to steady your nerves.

As you found yourself back at the bar for yet another round of liquid courage, you sensed someone approaching. Turning around, it wasn’t Luke’s familiar curls, but John’s. you managed a somewhat forced smile as he settled beside you. “Hey, Y/N, having fun?” he asked with a smile.

You nervously accepted your drink as it arrived, taking a sip that was perhaps a bit too eager. “Yeah, it’s great hanging out with you guys!”

An awkward silence fell between you, filled only by the sound of your silent sipping. John’s laughter suddenly cut through the tension, breaking the ice with ease as he chuckled at the obvious awkwardsness of the situation. “Y’know, Jack’s been chirping me relentlessly tonight. Mentioning something… interesting… about us.” You groaned, mentally facepalming yourself.

With a playful gesture, he pointed his finger between the both of you, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Did… did we sleep together one night and I just forgot?”

“No no no!” you rushed to clarify, flailing your hands around, desperate to clear up the situation. John, is of course, handsome, and after a few too many drinks on a night out, it could’ve happened under different circumstances. The absurdity of it all hit both of you at once, and you burst out laughing, dissolving any lingering awkwardness between the two of you.

John theaterically placed a hand over his heart. “Phew, good. Wouldn’t want Luke getting all jealous on me.” Your laughter echoed his, agreeing wholeheartedly—until his words fully registered. You never mentioned Luke. “What did you say?”

John merely winked and offered you a pat on the shoulder before making his exit, leaving you at the bar, more puzzled than ever.

As the evening unfolded, the flow of drinks seemed never-ending, each one blurring into the next. Suddenly, you found yourself seated in the passengerseat of a car, the lights of New Jersey streaking past you in a dizzyin display. Barely able to keep your eyes open in your drunken state, you looked over to the driver’s seat—Luke. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be driving,” you slurred.

“I was sober tonight, Y/N. and you… you were way too drunk. We’re going home,” Luke responded, his tone lacking its usual lightness, replaced by a firm, blunt edge. The drive was engulfed in silence, a tensions hanging in the air that even your drunken haze couldn’t miss.

“So, cosying up with John?” Luke remarked, a hint of something indefinable in his tone.

Luke had seen you at the bar. His voice carried a weight, one that echoed the same unease you felt when you saw him with that girl at Jack’s birthday.

Words failed you as you tried to respond, a string of incoherent mumbles and half-formed words spilling out of your mouth. You felt like you were burning up, put on the spot, panicking. “Trying to make me jealous?” You blinked in shock at his question. There was no hint of anger in Luke’s voice; instead, he sounded amused. You could feel his smirk.

As you finally mustered up the courage to face him, there it was—that infuriating, captivating smirk. Part of you wanted to punch it off his face, yet another part for inexplicably drawn to it. “I… I wasn’t…” you stuttered, struggling to articulate your thoughts. Luke let out a soft chuckle, one hand leaving the steering wheel, landing comfortably on your thigh.

“I’ll admit it, I got a bit jealous. But I know John wouldn’t do that to me,” he said, giving you thigh a gentle squeeze. You were totally lost. Luke was jealous? Why? You weren’t trying to make him jealous. Your intentions had been the polar opposite—you were trying to avoid him.

And here you were, alone, in the car, with Luke.

“And I know you wouldn’t do that either. You’re too charmed by me, aren’t you?” The car came to a stop; you were outside the apartment. Luke finally turned to meet your gaze. His question hung in the air, leaving you speechless. You weren’t interested in Luke, at all. You were just confused.

Right?

“Is that the reason why you’ve been avoiding me?” His words struck a nerve—he knew. He knew that you had, in fact, been avoiding him. You found yourself locked in his gaze, unable to pry your eyes away. Luke didn’t look away either; it was as if he was uncovering every secret, exploring every inch of you with his eyes.

In a swift, almost breathless moment, he leaned over, his lips finding yours. The kiss caught you by surprise, yet the thought of pulling away never crossed your mind. Instead, you found yourself surrendering—melting into the warmth of his lips. Your hand instinctively found its way to his curls, fingers weaving through them, pulling him closer,deepening the kiss.

You were moving in perfect sync.

His hand reached out, unlatching your seatbelt, freeing your from its restraint. With an ease of urgency, you climbed over the midconsole, never losing the precious contact between the two of you.

His hands found their way to your hips, finger pressing into the soft fabric of your clothes, pulling you even closer. Arching your back at the contact, your clothed core merely inches away from him, only your clothes separating you. Intoxication swept over you, but it wasn’t the alcohol swirling through your veins that left you dizzy – it was Luke. it was the touch of his hands roaming around your body, the feeling of his lips on yours, it was him. And you needed more. Your hands seemed to take on a life of their own, grasping at his shoulders, tugging at his curls, wrapping around his neck – anything to be closer to Luke.

Lost in the moment, straddling Luke in the drivers seat as you deepened the kiss. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer as you grind against him, feeling him harden beneath you. The friction was maddening, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

You simply couldn’t help yourself.

With a groan, Luke pulls away, leaving you both gasping for air. But the respite is short-lived as you felt Luke’s fingers grazing your inner thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He hooked his fingers under the edge of your panties, pulling them to the side. You bit down on your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape as he slips inside, his fingers finding your clit with ease.

But you can’t, you’d been wanting this, needing this, needing him. Needing Luke.

You let out a soft moan, giving yourself over to the feeling of his fingers exploring your most sensitive area. At first, Luke’s fingers moved in small, teasing circles, bareuly brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, just watching you fall apart on top of him.

In the haze of pleasure, you found yourself drawn to Luke’s eyes. They were dark, intense, however, there was a hint of care, and maybe even love, taking in every moment of your reaction to his touch.

You couldn’t look away if you tried. Trapped in his gaze, the car filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and whimpers – you didn’t want to escape.

Luke’s eyes never left yours, watching with rapt attention as your breath hitched in your throat. Your face flushed, eyes closed tight, feeling the pressure building inside you. Luke’s fingers sped up, pressing harder against your clit.

Suddenly, your vision faded, the orgasm tearing through you like a wildfire, your body shaking with the force of your release.

Collapsing on top of him, your breath coming in short, sharp, gasp as you tried to catch your breath. Luke pushed away the mess of your hair, gently caressing your chin, tilting your face so you could meet his gaze. He was smiling, not the usual shit eating smirk, but smiling with genuine care and affection.

What just happened?

[lilacxquartz]

A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES

part 1 of 3 • mahito x reader

summary: following an accident that destroyed your vision, you begin to suspect that your boyfriend, your caretaker, was actually replaced by an imposter.

tags/themes: body horror, psychological horror, reader insert, disturbing themes, dead dove, dark

ao3 • masterlist • more series • part 2 >

1. Fade Away

The accident itself came out of nowhere.

All you could remember was the squeal of the tires and the slamming force that threw you forward against the dashboard. The glass around you held for maybe a second before it collapsed and fell like sharp, near lethal snow.

Soon after, darkness followed, but not the slow pull of sleep or even death, but quite literally something pitch black and devoid of colour that crept into your vision, or lack of.

Before you knew it, the world was taken away from you and as was your remaining hope.

Essentially, you were left unable to see.

At least maybe temporarily, or so the doctors had otherwise claimed, feeding you a false sense of promise that the light could one day return. Days, maybe weeks all blurred together in perpetual darkness otherwise, so it didn’t take too long for your hope to fade.

The recommendation was to wear eyepatches over your eyes, or rather, a dual patch to both protect your eyes as they heal as well to hopefully make the gradual return of vision not feel so overwhelming.

You hated the things if you were honest; the very feel of them resting atop your eyes only served as a mocking reminder of just how easy it was to ruin the course of your life within mere seconds.

Your boyfriend however, as sweet as he was, tried to see you through it all. His calm and kind voice was the only consistent thing throughout your entire experience. He was always there to guide you when you couldn’t find your way—telling you it was all going to be okay—even if that word no longer made sense to you.

What was it… to be okay anymore?

Everyday, you looked forward to his calming voice and his gentle touch, except for when you didn’t; at least not anymore.

It was a subtle shift in the air, but something had changed.

When he walked into the room, something about his presence felt off. He greeted you the same way that he did before and the sound of his voice was familiar enough, but there was a different quality to it. It wasn’t wrong, at least not exactly, but something about the way he spoke had suddenly felt unnatural.

The way he touched you felt slightly… off, too. His touches were usually light against your skin; yet whoever this was, seemed to apply an uncomfortable amount of weight against you.

The scent in the room, the scent of his cologne that he wore was the exact same, although it was certainly faint, as though stale.

Maybe you were just going insane…?

It wasn’t that unlikely, you supposed. The trauma was life altering enough and after being in a loop of total darkness for the last couple of weeks, it was highly probable that the very last strings of your sanity were finally on their last threads. This whole thing was disorienting enough, since you essentially lost what you knew as the entire world in just a matter of minutes, so maybe it was the case of your senses being elevated a little too much.

It was a possibility, right?

Your mind was probably to blame, playing sneaky and cruel little tricks on you and feeding into the exhausting paranoia of losing one of your most vital senses.

The feeling however still persisted deep down. It was a creeping unease that would sink to the depths of your stomach and bubble away into poorly digested yet festering doubt every time he would reunite with you.

His laughter, while soft and familiar, now carried a hollow tone. His breath felt somehow hotter, his words felt almost… rehearsed. Your heightened remaining senses be damned; you knew it in the core of your very being that you weren’t crazy for picking up on such things.

It was the way his footsteps walked down a methodical path on his way to be with you. or how he hesitated to say your name, instead calling you sickly sweet nicknames that he had otherwise never before in his life used on you.

It was strange, but the company of someone you supposedly had loved for the last five years, had become almost foreign to you.

At one point, you reached for his hand while lying down next to him in bed and your fingers grazed against his, only for you to pull back away in an instant. His soft palms were now calloused and you could feel strange sorts of sutures line up his wrist in brushing retaliation.

You continued to try and drill in the idea that this had to have been all in your head out of desperate delusion, hoping, praying even, that it was the fault of the darkness for twisting everything into something so vile.

But still, that nagging feeling persisted. It wasn’t fear clouding your judgement; it was an innate warning to trust your gut to understand that something was actually terribly wrong.

You didn’t dare question him however, because after all, this person—whoever he actually was—was the only one who had fed you, bathed you and cared for you. How could it not be him? You kept telling yourself that it had to be because you were otherwise stumped on all other plausible explanations.

Whoever it was that tucked themselves away next to you in bed and idly traced haunting patterns in your skin was not the person you once knew.

It was absolutely, without a doubt, someone else.

Someone pretending to be him.

~~~

The doctors had been cautiously optimistic concerning your recovery; a phone call with the person who had initially treated you had revealed that while the accident had been devastating, your future might not be in ruins just yet. With time and provided that you were correctly taking the medicine that your boyfriend had been giving you, you should actually begin to heal.

There were signs to look out for in your returning vision; flickers of light, passing shadows and the like. They warned you that it might at times seem alarming, but it was all positive; a sign of healing, if you were lucky enough.

And much to your delight, you started to indeed notice hints of your vision returning after a while. Exercised moments without the eye patches would reveal partial sight in the form of colourful blurring patches manifesting within your view. It was something so little yet so hopeful, but you couldn’t help but cling to the fleeting glimpses of colour that painted your vision with almost elated anticipation.

Anything but constant darkness.

If you could at least see colour, even if it wasn’t so clear, then suddenly the future wasn’t as bleak as before.

Yet, every time you thought you were getting better, the progress would soon slip away every time he visited.

Just like the initial shift, it all started subtly. The brief casted moments of light would be stolen from you the second that he left the apartment, leaving you behind in a suddenly plunged black void and whenever you would mention this in a call to the doctors, they were simply perplexed. According to them, if you were seeing positive changes in your vision, then it should be improving—not deteriorating.

They told you that they would arrange for your partner to pick up a changed strain for the medication, hoping that an adjustment to your treatment should guide you in the correct direction.

But try as you might, the pattern continued to repeat itself, again and again.

You would heal and then the lights would go out.

You could have sworn that it was his doing somehow, even if the assigned blame was insane in its own right. With every touch from his tainted fingertips, he would somehow weaken you despite being otherwise gentle. It was so odd, because it was like he eluded poison from every stroke against the contours of your flesh.

You soon grew to fear contact with him as a result; dreading any sort of contact with the impostor who claimed to be your lover, lest he would damage you again. It was as though every time his fingertips brushed against your skin, he changed something about you and with every recurring visit, it only got worse.

You kept trying to talk to him about it, hoping that his once warm personality would return and tell you that you were wrong about your assumptions but you never got such comfort.

Again and again, you would ask him something of the same sort of variation, “I’m getting worse, aren’t I?”

But there would be no comfort that followed.

“Don’t be silly,” he would often taunt, almost, his words always so playful as they flicked off of his tongue with hidden venom. “Why would you feel worse, huh? That’s so funny to me, because you shouldn’t. I’m taking such good care of you, silly. You should be feeling better.”

His voice was soft when he spoke too, like smooth dripping honey against your weary ears. “Maybe you’ve got it all wrong, even. You’re feeling worse from me not being around. Don’t worry though, I’ll keep you running, safe and sound.”

His words were now more erratic, almost playful. He no longer carried the same patterns that your partner once did with his speech. You wanted nothing more than to pull away from this monster—because that’s what he must have been—to escape from him, to scream at him to leave you alone because how dare he pretend to be someone you loved?

And yet you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Instead, you did nothing, resigning yourself to just sitting there, laying there as he would continue to purr falsely planted reassurances into your ears with promises that you prayed that he would not keep.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he would say, “I’ll be right here, always. Watching every last bit of you unravel—I mean heal. We’re in this together, right? I’ll stay with you until there’s nothing left—I mean, until you’re fixed right up.”

You could only sigh and endure, the ache behind your eyes getting gradually worse, as if something was pushing and pulling inside of your skull somehow; messing around internally, poking and prodding in places that should have remained untouched.

It didn’t take long for your body to feel wrong, like it wasn’t put together correctly anymore.

Like it didn’t belong to you anymore.

You could have sworn that your skull was contorting under your skin, slowly twisting and waning through whatever pressure his passing touch would apply.

Sometimes, late at night (or what you assumed to be night), you would lie awake and feel things moving inside of you; slowly, and deliberately—as though something was crawling beneath your flesh.

And all you could do was just sit there.

Broken, blind and waiting for the next visit.

For the next time that this thing wearing your boyfriend’s persona would return and wrap its hands around your body once again, uttering sweet little lies while tearing you apart from the inside.

“It’s all gonna be okay,” he would murmur or rather, mock, “I’m here for you, after all.”

But it wasn’t going to be okay.

That much you did know.

In fact, you had a very good idea that nothing was ever going to be okay ever again.

[muffinsin]

Hiya, I'm new to the blog but I've loved everything I've read so far! I was wondering if I could request the Dimitrescu daughters (separately) getting saved by a maiden that they thought hated them? Like, maybe a hunter breaks in + smashes a window and the maiden literally carries (or drags) the daughter to safety and refuses to leave their side until they've warmed up.

Maybe the maiden never actually hated the daughters (like a miscommunication/the maiden having a difficult to read expression), or maybe they stopped hating the Dimitrescus a while ago but nobody noticed? Idk, it's up to you, I just think you'd have a fun take on it :3

I went through the anon lists and hopefully I didn't miss any, so if possible can I be sleepy anon? Please and thank you, and have a great day/week!

Hi :)! I’m happy to hear ya like my works :)🙌 Honestly what a cute prompt!

Let’s get into it :) anon name is all yours🙌

Masterlists

Bela

Bela is, a mystery to you

To her, you seem like an enemy. A staff member, yet with a deep hatred towards her

Perhaps, if you weren’t so pretty and cute, perhaps if she didn’t like you in some strange way she is too proud to voice, you would’ve ended up in the basement already

Alas, Bela keeps you safe and only puts you in your place when your work isn’t done properly. She thinks you should consider yourself, lucky

To you, she seems like an uptight boss bent on punishing you for every little mistake

You wonder, what have you done for her to be this obsessed?

She notices every little mistake you make

A true perfectionist, you realize soon enough, and it bothers you to no end

But, unlike her interpretation of you, you don’t hate her. You don’t even really dislike her

She’s just..uptight, a little bitchy, yes. But she’s smart, you’ve come to notice, and quite obviously she is breathtakingly beautiful

Perhaps, if both of your false views and interpretations of one another were out the way, you’d have talked sooner

You would have liked to start a conversation with the supposedly dangerously intelligent and cold eldest daughter of Alcina Dimitrescu

Bela, on the other hand, would have liked getting to know you sooner

Still, she only ever sees false hatred in your eyes that is truly mere curiosity

She has never been all that good at reading people’s emotions

Their intentions? Yes, their facial features? Yes. But still, her books cannot teach her to fully understand humans, people, it seems

It’s a fatal misunderstanding on both your parts, one that this day will clear up, it seems

The day, while not being an ordinary one at all, is not all that unusual to Bela. An uprising, again, though somewhat cute in numbers

Four maidens. Bold, or perhaps only desperate enough, to dare fight back

It’s a pointless fight, a squabble she doesn’t even bother notifying her sisters about

Even with the many knives and utensils scattered around them in the kitchen, the fight seems pointless

That is, until Bela easily dodges a pot that smashes into the fragile window behind her

Immediately, she screams in pain at the cold air rushing in

The three remaining troublemakers spot their opportunity instantly, so it takes less than seconds for the other kitchen windows to be shattered

Bela grits her teeth, one arm wrapped around her protectively, her other hand clutching her sickle

She refuses to tell her sisters. Refuses to allow Mother to hear of this. She can do this! She can’t cause her family trouble. Cassandra would have never let this go on. Daniela would have killed them in seconds. Bela should have never let it come this far, should have prevented the window from breaking..

Throwing herself back into her battle, she strikes one down, but pays the bitter price when two steak knives are sliced and thrust into her thighs

Immediately, she falls, her blood gushing, her limbs aching and as if on fire. The cold immediately finds the large gashes and digs through. The blades of the knives seem icy cold like the terrain outside

She manages to knock one down with her, but as the back of her hooded head hits the windowsill, her vision begins to blur

One more

She tries to call out for Cassandra, hoping, pleading, Mother will hear nothing of this

To her surprise and horror, she finds she can’t reach her sister, too far away for her weakened swarm to detect

She grasps for her weapon, but can’t detect it. Was it lost when she fell? She can’t remember, but tastes her own, foul blood in her mouth

With difficulty, she sees the maiden’s lips moving. She can’t make out what she’s saying, but her expression enough is sufficient to allow her to assume it must be some kind of insult

Pride, cockiness, a human’s downfall

She watches as, seemingly out of nowhere, you stand behind her, bringing Bela’s abandoned sickle down at her neck

It’s messy, and rough, but enough for the woman to drop her weapon and scream. Enough to fall to her knees and enough for Bela to finish her off

Golden, unfocused eyes meet yours. She looks unsure. Worried. Confused. Cold. Hurt. Scared

Never did you think Bela Dimitrescu would feel such things. Never did you think you would truly see a glimpse of humanity in her

But, you have…

You have seen her eyes squint when she laughs with her sisters, seen the faintest hint of a blush and happiness hidden beneath pride when being praised by her mother. You have seen her playful annoyance aimed at her youngest sister

When you close in on her, her first instinct is to lean in. Then, nearly within that same moment, she snarls and pushes herself harder against the cold wall

You hate her. She has no reason to believe you are not part of this attack, or at the very least are now that her weakness is so pathetically displayed

But you don’t approach predatorily

With your hands raised, you gently move closer to her

She watches you closely, her golden eyes watchful even as her body trembles

Slowly, you unwrap the sleeping robe from around you. Is it this late already? Bela hadn’t noticed

The material is thin, but the action shows your intentions nonetheless, and so she allows you to lean into her personal space

A small, quiet gasp passes her lips when you pick her up. Automatically, she sets her hands on your shoulders and wraps the robe tighter around herself

With her vision blurry and the foul taste in her mouth, her bloodied, non functioning legs and aching arms, she doesn’t protest when you keep holding her up and close to you

Your warmth is…comforting

Bela winces a little. She doesn’t want to look up at you, doesn’t want to ruin this perfect moment

After all, when she does look up, what will she see? Hatred? Annoyance? Cockiness?

You pass the fireplace, walk up the stairs

She clings tighter to you, but there are no others in the hallway

All staff members know better than to leave their rooms at nighttime, and even more so in winter, when it is known the residents of castle Dimitrescu are more on edge and easier to irritate

After a little while she notices where you’re taking her- her own room, her safe harbour

She extends an aching arm and closes her fingers around the door knob, helping you open the way inside

She wonders; have you ever been in here? What do you think?

Despite her annoyance, Bela manages to bite down a curse when her cheeks heat up a little

Secretly, perhaps, she wants you to like her room

And like it you do

Bela is every bit the perfectionist you knew she is

But, there is beauty in this

Her shelves are organized neatly. The books placed in them tell you the woman in your arms is fond of just about everything

Information and documentaries of a vast range of topics can be found, from hobbies to animals, to biomes, to sciences

Her bed is made and her nightstand is nearly empty, save for the storybook placed on it

It isn’t opened and sports no mark or so

You assume she hasn’t touched it in a while, but somehow, you correctly guess that it’s meant for the few times her sisters sneak into her room and the story calms their anxious minds

When Bela looks up at you eventually, she gasps quietly at the softness found in your eyes

She stays quiet as you set her down on the bed, doesn’t even wince when you brush aside her hair to have a look at the nasty cut on her head

With the heat of the room, the wounds begin healing slowly

And still, you fuss over her

She hopes you don’t take notice of her dusty pink cheeks and wide eyes when you press your sleeve to her forehead

Your subtle smile tells her differently

Cassandra

She hates you, you’re sure of it

And you hate her, she’s sure

After all, why else would she dump dead, stinking deer in front of your room every single morning?!

Why else would she do this to you and no one else!

Why is she tormenting you? What have you done to her!

After all, why else would you dispose of her beautiful gifts every single morning?

You must hate her!

She feels stupid for gifting you her finest meat every day, but can’t stop, either

Perhaps she can yet woo you, after all

But you dump it off to the kitchens every time! Not even back to her! The kitchens! For common staff!

You must hate her…!

When you pass her in the halls, you do your best to avoid eye contact. Were you looking at her, you would notice her doing the exact same thing

Despite her hatred for you, you are curious about her

She’s beautiful, there’s no question there

With chocolate-coal-brown hair that easily falls down at her shoulders, sometimes curled, at other times straightened, her golden eyes you only sometimes dare gaze upon

She has one lazy eye, and you find it’s the cutest thing in the world. Her features are stunning and you regularly fight yourself to avoid staring at her

At night, at times, you can’t help but wonder what this beauty of a woman would be like curled against you

Her pale, snow-white skin pressed against yours, her face tucked away by your neck, your arms tight around her

Sometimes, you bitterly remind yourself; she would strike. Bite down at your jugular with all her might and drain the life from you

But, perhaps even happily so, you would allow her to

Despite her hatred of you, she has you wrapped around her finger

Despite your hatred of her, you have her wrapped around your finger

A raid at the castle marks the time both your lives are about to change

Raids are, by all means, hardly unusual

While they aren’t everyday happenings, all residents and staff of the castle, even the villagers, know of the foolish men and sometimes women attempting to break into the castle every few weeks or months or so

None are successful, but it seems this never dampens their spirit

But, there is protocol

And so you find yourself hiding in the only room closest to you at the beginning of the raid: the armory

The very armory occupied by Cassandra Dimitrescu

You know protocol, you know to hide in the nearest room, lock it even, and wait it out. Protocol never mentions the case being in which a Dimitrescu sister is near

You hold your breath, but it’s no use. She notices you immediately, and given the current raid at the castle you ought to be happy she doesn’t automatically strike you down

Instead, she holds your gaze for a moment. Your eyes meet a dark gold, more beautiful than anything you have ever seen before

You don’t notice you’re holding your breath until she stretches her arm out, her gloved fingertips pointing towards the back of the room

You understand instantly. A hiding spot, as instructed. Of course

Even as you slide between and behind the large barrels, hide behind the suits of armor standing at the back, you can’t help but keep your eyes lingering on her

Her back is smooth, her hips surprisingly slim

She looks regal, yet lethal in the way her fingers twitch and she grasps the weapon tighter every few seconds

Soon after you’ve slipped into your hiding place and Cassandra started sharpening her weapon- you briefly wonder why it is she stays with you, rather than throw herself into the sure fight happening somewhere in the castle- when you begin hearing shouts ahead

Then, you see them, two men, as they burst into the armory

They’re broad shouldered and sport brown hair and a brown, stubby beard. Thick noses and burst lips adorn their faces. They’re twins, and judged by their clothing, hunters stemming from the village

You hold your breath and shrink against the suits of armor and barrels surrounding you

They sneer at Cassandra, their weapons- two machetes, one each, drawn. They’re wholly focused on her

If they’ve seen you, they pay you no mind at all

Cassandra doesn’t wait for one of them to attack. Instead, you watch as she throws herself into battle

Swarming halfway and masterfully avoiding all incoming attacks from the two intruders, she catches one’s neck with the end of her sickle and reaps chunks of the other man’s clothing and skin from his ribs

You watch as blood forms and drops fast. The man splutters uselessly, stumbling back while the other, though injured, tries to fight back

It becomes clear to you now, why Cassandra is known as the best huntress at castle Dimitrescu

Despite her impressive display, your eyes press shut when the injured man stumbles in your direction

Again, he doesn’t seem to take notice of you, and yet you don’t dare move

Then, a loud bang forces your eyes open and a scream from your lungs

But you are not the only one screaming, and so you are lucky enough to be unnoticed again, for…

Cassandra’s scream was the one outweighing yours, you realise

The woman screams and shakes, her hood torn off to reveal teary eyes and her beautiful, pale skin breaking off slightly

Behind her, you notice the crack in the wall now a large gap. It must have been caused by the explosion you’ve heard

She’s still fighting strong, having finished the already weakened man bleeding out near you

Still, you grit your teeth and watch with wide eyes as the machete of the other connects with her arm. At first, she howls in pain, the noise so desperate and pure you almost cry

Then, the limb falls. You watch as it falls from her and breaks off into what must be hundreds of little flies that curl in on themself as the cold wind touches them

You grit your teeth when the woman stumbles backwards, her back dangerously close to the large gap in the wall. If she was to fall…

The man seems to have the same idea, pushing and swinging his machete around like a madman trying to make her back up into the gap

You decide you can’t bear to stand idle while her fate may be sealed

Slithering from behind the armor and barrels, you yank the other machete from the dead man’s tight grip

In a smooth, albeit difficult swing, the sharp blade meant for monsters connects with the man’s exposed neck, just where Cassandra struck him before

His head tips to the side as he collapses, and you drop the weapon immediately

Cassandra groans and growls madly as you near yourself and push her weak arm wielding the sickle aside

She reminds you a little of an animal with rabies, the way she shakes and growls, and you hope you don’t pay the bitter price for your care

Still, you wrap your arm around her slim hips and pull her towards you, wary of the large piece of broken off wall behind her

She doesn’t fight you, merely keeps on growling and- crying? You can’t be too sure. You didn’t take her for one to cry, but then again, you wince when you nearly step on what used to be her arm

Carefully, you scoop the unmoving flies from the floor and into your pocket

The woman is clearly out of it, her lips parted and sharp, fang-like teeth on display as she snarls and growls over and over again, her screams quiet, but almost banshee like in their shrill tone

You wonder; is she trying to reach her sisters with it? If she is, it’s entirely too quiet and weak of a scream, you decide

You take another gamble and hook your free hand under her legs, promptly lifting the woman into your arms

Again, she snarls and shakes, but makes no move to attack you

That is, if you don’t count her sharp, bloodied nails of her remaining hand digging into your shoulder

And still, you can’t bring yourself to believe this is meant to be an attack

You carry her out the library and the only place you know to be warm; the kitchens near the grand dining room

Cassandra relaxes significantly as you move her to the room, the warm fires and steam warming her sore body

Still, you don’t dare let go of her

When you hold your breath, you realise; she’s almost..purring? That can’t be right

The next thing you realise are the flies, previously unmoving, buzzing in your pocket

You set the woman down on a clear part of the table and retrieve one of them, smiling as it buzzes in your hand

You place a gentle kiss to it, not unaware of the small gasp coming from Cassandra, and release it. Immediately, it returns to the stump where her arm used to be

You repeat the process, kissing flies as they return to her

Cassandra’s thankful for the cold still in her body, for it’s at the very least suppressing her growing blush

You feel her lean against you and cant help but wonder;

Perhaps, she doesn’t hate you

Maybe, you don’t hate her

Daniela

Daniela is almost 100% sure you hate her

You never react to her sly smirks, her cute giggles, the sweet hand resting on your shoulder!

She has tried flirting with you for ages, and nothing!

You’re never rude to her, actually- you’re very kind to her!

You always bring her a flower when your work in the gardens is done

You always braid her hair for her and brush it out after

You make sure her room is clean and her bath is full of bubbles and delicious scents

You always smile when you see her

So why haven’t you kissed her yet!

She doesn’t understand

She’s thrown you so many signs! All she could. But you haven’t acted on a single one

She thinks, you must hate her

And you?

You’re a little…clueless

You like her, so very much

You lie awake at night, your mind occupied by the beautiful, auburn haired woman that regularly visits your dreams and thoughts alike

Sometimes, you dare dream

Could she be yours?

Could you make her happy?

Could she want you?

But is she not with others? So many stare when she passes, you hear the hushed voices either insulting, or praising her

She’s a goddess residing in this castle; what chance have you got?

You try to be close to her, yet never too close

You don’t want to disrespect her, never

You care far too much about her for such a thing

Then, one day, there is an attack

Lycans, they say, a stray pack headed from the village and led by their prey directly to the castle

Of course, the staff is immediately brought and locked away for safety

You are less lucky, having insisted the day prior you’d like to clean out the library

After all, this is where Daniela is known to spend her days…

Now, separated from the other staff members, you have little choice but to stay put

You try your best not to glance at Daniela, who stands with her sickle held tightly. She too heard the alarms, it seems

You grip the fire poker, your eyes still trained on the floor

You wonder; if you looked at her, could you ever advert your eyes again?

It seems, there is little to no time for you to dwell on this thought, for a loud bang and a snarl is all you hear when the door to the library is ripped from its hinges and a furry snout peaks through

Before you have time to react, Daniela grips the lycan already

You watch as she works, no, plays with the wild animal

She spins it and giggles, grips and yanks, breaks and slices

The beast only snarls at her, yet can’t even hope to land even a single claw on her

All goes well, you don’t even think you need to make use of your improvised weapon

Even the snarls and screams from the outside dull. They’re retreating, it seems

Then, however, a gasp is ripped from you when the beast pushes against you. Whether it did it on purpose or was knocked against you, you can’t tell, but you do realise one thing; you’re falling

Hoping to catch yourself, you reach out to grab all within reach

Only, unfortunately, is that a lever

In the next second you feel icy cold wind come down at you and hear the piercing scream of the auburn haired woman next to you

Your hand stretches out, your lips parting as you scream a warning that comes too late

She’s knocked back by the force of the lycan’s gigantic paw swiping at her, thick claws dragging through her dress and soft, pale skin

You feel ill as blood pools at her stomach and the sickle falls from her

She kicks the animal away, yet it looks, and sounds, as though each move only pains her so much more

You realise your own mistake fast and quickly work on shutting the windows again, her scream and your own blood pumping loudly urging you to work faster, faster, faster

When you look to the side, she’s barely sitting up, her bloodied hands and arms desperately shielding herself against the creature

You don’t think, can’t think, won’t take the time to think now

With the fire poker gripped tightly in your hand, you charge

You scream, and it’s met with a pained howl

Thankfully, Daniela must have injured the creature enough for a simple, powerful strike to its heart to finish it off

And still, you feel your uniform slip from you and the nasty, aching pain of the large slashes made at your back

You grit your teeth, ignoring the mark the creature has left on you even as its foulness enters your body

You turn Daniela to find her bloodied and shivering, her flies dropping, her skin seemingly switching between breaking and healing itself

Again, you don’t dare waste time

She watches you through a blurry haze as you wrap your arms around her. She almost tastes your scent

It takes everything not to taste you

She feels her wounds, the pain she has almost forgotten all about. What is pain? This is a nasty reminder

Next she’s lifted to you, her fingertips and face nuzzling your warm skin

You feel her move to you, as close as she could, and all but grant her this

You know now what happened, what you have caused her

And you’re set to fix it. You won’t allow a stupid mistake, an accident, to be it for her

Daniela shivers still as you pick her off the floor and rush through the halls

Yet, all she feels is you. Your warmth. Your heartbeat, loud and close against her ear. She loves every moment of it

She isn’t sure where you bring her at first, until she finds herself set on her bed

When did she get here? She can’t tell. Black dots appear in her vision and her stomach feels slick with blood even as it starts closing up again

You gently cup her cheek, your eyes, so beautiful and worried, checking her over

You notice the little cuts on her face heal and shut nearly instantly, whereas bruises caused by the cold wind stay stubbornly in place

Perhaps, if the cold hurts the woman, the heat could help her, you figure

Daniela whines when you move from her and for a moment you feel your cheeks heat up. Her fingers entangled with yours, her golden eyes wide and hopeful

She doesn’t want you to go. Not now. Even if you hate her

And really?

Neither do you

You only wish to hold her close, to protect the precious creature held so close to you

You wish to cup her face and stroke the soft fingers holding onto yours so sweetly

You want nothing but to nurse her back to health, to know her, really know her

To be here

To make her yours

You watch, the truth laid bare in her eyes. No flirty smiles you don’t understand, no hidden meanings behind words you can’t understand

Her feelings, exposed and shown to you in her bright, golden eyes

You lean down as gentle as you can, and even more so, you press your lips to the flower tattoo adorning her forehead

“I’ll draw you a bath, it will warm you up”, you whisper. Then, you promise:

“I’ll return, iubita mea”

[tsumtsumrry]

Sex Therapist

WC: 3.3k 

warnings: riding the tiger (thigh riding), unprotected sex, language, a pinch of fluff, bit of soft dom!harry, a teensy bit of a breeding kink, and kinda pwp (porn without plot) 

and he’s not actually a sex therapist 

He’s striding towards the door with you trailing behind him, attempting to apologize for the fact that you weren’t even present the whole time he was literally inside you.

“Yeah, sorry. I just don’t―” 

“Think it’s gonna work out? Yeah I gathered that.” he scoffs, his voice laced with venom. 

Yet another one night stand gone to shit.

“I’m sorry―” you insist but he opens the door and walks right out of it before you can even finish your sentence.

It wasn’t entirely your fault, it wasn’t interesting, nothing made you want to be present. He just wasn’t doing it for you. 

Yeah his ego must’ve taken a blow but it’s better than “leading him on”, per se, and having him finish while you just sit there and regret it all. 

You blow a frustrated raspberry and walk over to your couch to plump yourself down on it, immediately regretting even talking to him at that bar tonight. He could’ve been a bit nicer about the whole thing. Even though you know you shouldn’t, you can’t help but feel a little guilty, and the way he seemed so disappointed only made you feel worse. God, you really need to grow a fucking backbone. 

The worst part is you feel painfully sexually frustrated but you aren’t even in the mood to touch yourself, you just need someone to fix it for you. You desperately need someone to fix it for you. 

You opt for just eating dinner, having a long bath and going to sleep, hopefully by tomorrow this dreadful overflow of sexual desire will leave you with some rest 

Wishful thinking.

                                                          🟔

“Delicious, don’t ya think?” 

You nod and hum and the taste of the pie, somehow it’s unlike any other you’ve tasted and you can’t thank Harry enough for introducing it to you.

“This is like heaven. How in the world did you find these?” you breathe out, your voice in something like a breathy daze like drawl. 

“A friend of a friend.” He says, chuckling at your current state. He can’t even blame you though, it really is that good. 

“I fucking love your friends.” You mumble and he chuckles with squinted eyes.

“‘Kay, now that I’ve loosened you up with food, mind telling me what’s been going on with you lately?” He says, his tone bordering a coax. It surprises you, the fact that he noticed and the fact that he’s bold enough to ask.

You and him don’t talk all that much, you have mutual friends, and when he’s in town he always says that you’re the first person he calls, but you don’t really believe him. It’s probably something he says just to be kind, that is his brand after all. 

“Hmm?” you pretend to be clueless, taking another bite of pie. You could always lie, it’s not like he’d know the difference, right? 

“You’ve been so, like, tense? I don’t know how to explain it but I can literally feel how on edge you are.”

Harry notices you’re looking anywhere but at him and he ducks his head to try and catch your line of vision, “hmm? What’s going on? You okay?” 

Your heart flutters a bit at his genuine concern, but you know you still can’t vocalize the fact that you desperately need to get laid to someone you loosely consider a friend. 

“M’fine, Harry,” you notice his look of pure disbelief, “really, I am.” 

“You sure? Like I said I can feel how tense you are, and I’m never wrong about these kinds of things…” he trails off, his eyes flicking to the movement of you licking some of the pie remnant off of your bottom lip. “You can tell me, you know. I don’t bite and I’ve been told I’m a great listener. 

You bite your lip in thought and once again his eyes follow, only this time you catch it. 

It’s when he says your name with genuine worry in his voice that you finally look him in the eye and open your mouth to speak. 

“Okay you have to promise not to laugh, or, like, judge.” you rush out, honestly not believing you’re actually doing this. It kind of helps that you and him aren’t all that close, it’s easier to tell him that it would be to tell someone else. He also just radiates charm and comfort, something that you’re sure he’s using to his advantage. 

“I promise. Already told you I’m a great listener, love. Now what’s been bothering you?” 

“I just, I’ve been so wound up and I can’t seem to fix it.” you finally say, hoping he gets what you mean by “wound up”.

“Well I usually meditate, trust me it works wonders. And if you really need it I’m sure I could book like one of those cool masseuse thingies for you.” 

You groan quietly and he frowns.

“No, H, I―I’ve been wound up.” You stress the words more and you can see exactly when the realization flashes in his eyes. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

“Well, do you have any problems with, like, finding people?” he offers quietly, trying to allude to one night stands.

“Yes actually. They can never―”

“Get you off?” he quips and your breath stutters with laughter. You mumble a small “yeah” and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head. 

“You ever tell them what you want?” he asks and you frown. You’ve just realized that no, no you don’t. 

“No…” you mumble. 

“Well there it is.” he says with a tone of finality and you pout. 

“I mean I know I should, but sometimes I don’t wanna be giving cues while I’m having sex with someone, you know?” you speak softly, almost like you're embarrassed and you guess Harry can tell, because next time he speaks he makes sure his voice is soft and reassuring. 

“No I get it, but you know most blokes are pretty lost when it comes to pleasing a woman in the bedroom. I know it must suck but you gotta help ‘em out a bit.”

“Yeah…” you pout again and Harry smiles softly at it, “I just want someone to like, know me, you know? Or just know a woman’s body in general.” 

“I get it, love. Can I give you a tip?” he says , his eyes swimming with something you can’t quite pin down.

“Sure.”

“Tell them exactly what you want, every single thing. Being vocal is very important. Everything you’re feeling or not feeling, you should tell them.”

“Everything?” 

“Everything.” He says, looking you right in the eyes as he’s fiddling with his pretty rings. He leans down to get another bite of pie and you look around in thought.

You feel stupid for what you’re about to ask but you feel like you owe it to yourself to really get all you can from this rare type of conversation you’re sure you won’t have with anyone else besides a sex therapist. “Do you have any idea of what I should like...say?” 

Harry pauses his chewing and his eyebrows raise in the slightest, you catch a tick in his jaw and you immediately regret asking the question. But just like he has been this whole night, he seems to read your mind and instantly answers your question like it’s the most casual thing he’s ever heard. 

“For example,” he clears his throat, “if something feels good you can say good, if it’s not doing anything for you, tell them, and tell them how to...make it feel good.” 

“And if they still don’t do it right?” 

“Find someone new.”

“I feel like I’ve looked everywhere.” 

“Maybe you need someone familiar.” 

You can tell he almost regretted it when he said it, but there was also something of what seemed like determination in his eyes. You can only imagine the mental battle he’s having right now. 

“Someone...familiar?” You say, your tone is nothing less than breathless.

“Mhm...someone you know, someone you trust, someone that can take care of you.” You know Harry’s noticed your change in breathing, the way you tried to subtly press your thighs together, you know he’s noticed and that’s why his voice has lowered to a calculated sultry tone that you know he only reserves for times like this. He’s downright seducing you and you don’t seem to have a problem with it, “any ideas?”

Now he’s just teasing. 

You shake your head no, your breaths coming out as shallow puffs. 

It’s only now you noticed that he’s been leaning in, he positions his mouth near your ear and his breath makes your entire body erupt in goosebumps, “do you want me to show you what it’s like? Hmm? Show you what it’s like to be cared for?”

You’ll be embarrassed later for how fast you agree, but that’s not important right now. 

“Can I touch, pretty girl?” he whispers, pressing kisses below your ear, smirking when you gasp. “Hmm? Can I?”

“Yes. Please.” 

All you get is a hum in response. He’s been keeping his hands to himself the entire time, but as soon as you gave the okay, his large hands moved to your thigh, trailing higher and higher but never quite getting where you want. 

“Gonna let me kiss you?” he whispers again and you nod quickly. As soon as his lips envelop yours you let out a satisfied sigh, one that he returns with a hum and a small smile. 

He moves his hands to your waist, swiftly ridding you of your leggings and your underwear after he asks for consent, his lips quirking from how quickly you said yes. 

You notice him pause, he’s watching you with dark, hungry eyes, almost like he’s trying to figure out what to do with you. You feel sort of self conscious sitting here all exposed. You go to put your legs together but you’re immediately stopped by what sounds like a disappointed tut. Harry shakes his head, ‘don’t. Please.” 

“Do somethin’ for me?” he asks and you nod softly. He pats his right thigh and you immediately know what he’s insinuating, you can feel the wetness reach your thighs. 

You straddle his thigh, taking a sharp intake of breath when his muscles flex under you, directly on your core. 

“This okay?” he asks.

“Yes, yes. Please.”  

He smirks and places his hands on your hips, your eyes are squeezed shut, the butterflies that you feel all over overwhelming you. 

“Open your eyes, poppet. Look at me.” Harry rasps, his forest green eyes moving rapidly across your face like he’s trying to commit this moment to memory. “So pretty. Always thought you were so pretty.” 

You open your eyes, immediately meeting his, you can see them soften at the nervousness you’re sure is swimming in yours. 

“You okay? You’re comfortable with all this? You know we can stop. As soon as you aren’t comfortable.” Harry says, his voice staying hushed and low, creating what feels like a safe bubble around the two of you.

“Yeah, m’okay. Promise.” you whisper out, and he shoots you a reassuring smile. 

He rests his hands on your hips, tightening his grip when you hum and the warmth of his hands, and drags your hips in one slow, long roll on his thigh, “so wet. Feels so nice and wet on my thigh” He marvels, committing to a rhythm of slow, sensual rolls, having you panting and moaning on top of him. 

“Look so pretty getting y’self off on my thigh like this. So fuckin’ pretty.” His thigh hitches up, causing you to gasp and crash down onto his chest. You nuzzle your head into his neck and he coos, bringing one of his hands up to your hair to pet you some. “Okay, baby?”

Baby. Your heart almost aches at the pet name. He’s really showing you what it feels like to be cared for. The whole nine yards. 

“Yeah, s’just...a lot. Feels really good.” you mumble into his neck, you can almost feel him shudder when your breath hits his skin. 

“Want more?” he whispers in your ear. You almost want to moan at how close he is.

“Yeah. Please.” 

He keeps one hair in your hair, caressing and petting you, while the other resumes the movements of your hips on his thigh, speeding up. You gasp out in a bit of surprise and he hums. The skin skin contact is driving you completely insane, the muscles on his thigh are so toned and firm and perfect, so so perfect. It feels perfect. 

You hadn’t realized you’ve been whispering it out loud until he coos at you yet again, squeezing your waist in encouragement. “Mhm. You’re so perfect.” he whispers. 

You feel the familiar simmering in your belly, the tightening feeling that makes you wonder if you’re actually going to explode, only this time it’s more intense. Probably because you’re proper turned on and have a guy under you that knows exactly what he’s doing and that thought, that thought just makes your release speed towards you faster.

“Harry.” you whine. “Gonna come. Please―”

“Go ‘head. Come all over my thigh, pretty girl. Make a mess of me. Please, I need to see it.” he encourages you, watching as you tremble on him and your eyes roll into the back of your head, letting the pleasure completely overtake you. 

You’re chanting out mindless praises and Harry’s comforting voice is helping you come down, ground you and make you feel safe. 

“Good girl. Did so good. Came so pretty.” he praises, pressing kisses to your shoulder. 

When your hand falls from his neck to his stomach, you immediately become aware of how hard he is. You look down, he’s hard, leaking even and you have no idea what’s come over you but you want it so bad. 

“Harry.” 

“Hmm, baby?” he whispers back, still peppering kisses all over your upper body. 

“Fuck me.”

He hums again, this one a little higher than the last and his lips finally break away from your body, “fuck you? Are you sure, love? I don’t wanna preas―” 

“You’re not. Please, please. I need you to fuck me.” 

“S’okay baby. I will. M’gonna fuck you.” 

“Thank you, thank you.” you chant, reaching down to give his cock, slow firm tugs. His mouth parts and he moans lowly, watching as your pretty hand works him, “condom?” he whispers, resuming his kisses on your skin. 

“M’clean, and on the pill. Don’t want one.” Now this, this is something you never do. You never go without a condom. But you just need him. You need him to the point where you don’t want any barriers in the way, you just want to feel him. And the thought of him filling you up, the thought of being filled up by Harry, is nearly sending you into overdrive. 

“I’m clean too, would never hurt you. You’re sure, though?” he double-checks. It’s downright mortifying how fast you nod. 

“Right. You ready for me?” he mutters and you look up to meet his eyes, dark green clouded with lust and you just want to get so fucking lost in them. You cannot believe how cliché and sappy and all you’ve done is hump his thigh like a teenager, but you can’t find it in you to care.  

“Please.” Is all you say. He lifts you up some and positions the tip at your entrance, swiping his cock between your folds, up to your clit and back down again, groaning at how wet you are. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous cunt.” he whispers, almost like he was saying it to himself. He finally slides himself in and you both gasp. He’s so...big.

Again you didn’t realize you'd said it out loud until he lets out a breathy chuckle, “thanks, baby. Y’pretty pussy is squeezing me so tight, fuck.” 

“Okay to move?” he whispers, nipping and sucking at your neck, humming every time you let out a breathy moan. 

“Yeah, please move.” you all but moan out. 

He lifts your hips up slowly, so so slowly, and brings them back down the same in a sensual roll. 

“Fuck.” he whines. And god is that the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. You love vocal men, hate it when they act like a rock and expect you to make all the noise. You’re so glad that Harry is one of the good ones. 

“You feel like a fucking dream, baby. So good on my cock.” he moans, directly into your ear and you shudder on top of him. 

You’re riding him, but he’s doing all the work, thrusting up into you and making you practically scream and tremble on top of him, “Oh my fuckin―Harry!” 

“That’s right, baby. You getting what you need? Tell me. Remember? You gotta tell me, sweet girl.” he rasps, moaning when you tighten around him at his words. 

“Yeah, yeah. S’good, so good.” you mumble, barely coherently as he scrambles your brain. 

He lays you down, hiking your leg over his shoulder and starts to get right back to fucking you into oblivion. A tingle runs down your spine at the new angle and you whimper out a weak call of his name. 

You’re both sweating, you start to meet his thrusts, watching as his mouth drops at the feeling. “Yeah, baby. Fuck me back. Just like that, sweet girl.” 

He can see it in your eyes, how much you want this release, scratch that, need this release, and he’s more than fucking willing to give it to you.

“You need to come? Hmm? Need me to rub your clit so you can come on my cock?” When you moan out a broken “yes” he tuts, “Tell me then. Tell me exactly what you need.” 

“Please rub my clit, Harry. Make me come, I need to come.” you mumble out. 

“Good girl. Such a good girl.” he says with so much pride and warmth in his voice you feel like melting into the couch. 

“Your good girl. Yours. Please.”

“Yeah, baby? All mine.” he leans down and for the first time tonight, he kisses your lips. And if you melted into the couch before you’re a puddle now. 

His thumb finally lands on your clit and he starts to rub tight, quick, circles, driving you so close to the brink so fast. 

“So close, so close. M’gonna come. Harry, please.” 

“Come for me, baby. Know you can. Soak my cock. I need to feel you.” he spews out encouragement, moaning along with you as yours become more frequent and loud. 

“Fuck yes, Harry.” is all you say before you go completely silent. Your mouth opening in a silent scream as you find your release, spasming uncontrollably on Harry, but his rhythm never falters.

“Good fucking girl. Christ.” he mumbles, not stopping his circles on your clit. 

“Please come for me, Harry.” you whine out, bringing your hands up to interlock behind his neck. 

“Yeah? Where do you want it?” he says, his voice sounding a beautiful type of strained.

“Inside. Inside me.” 

The only time Harry’s rhythm falters is when he hears those words. You’re gonna fucking ruin him.

“Bet you’re just fucking dying for me to fill you up, fill you with my cum. You love it don’t you?” he taunts you. 

“Yes. I want all of it.” 

“Gonna fuckin’ c-come” He whines loudly before he thrusts into you  five times in an uneven pattern and you can feel when it’s inside you. It’s so warm and primal and intimate and you don’t think anything compares to the feeling. 

“Baby.” he breathes out before he collapses on top of you, suddenly craving the skin to skin contact and warmth of your body. “You are...remarkable. For lack of a better word.” and you’re both giggling. 

“Mmm, y’so warm.” he whispers with a kiss to your slightly parted lips.

“Thank you. Thank you so much, H.”

“Anything for your angel face.” he smirks. 

[codenamethebird]

Ok here's a little (not really) analysis/theory post about Hades 2, because I'm obsessed. Its consumed all my thoughts. And I need to talk about a theme I think will (hopefully) be addressed as the game progresses.

Here's some examples of dialogue that starts to touch on this conflict between mortals and the gods. What exactly do mortals deserve? We also have literal Icarus "flew too close to the sun" here too (and probably Pandora). Chronos was able to sway many to his side with a promise of a golden age without the gods, which is presented by the narrative as a foolish venture. And not saying it isn't, or that Chronos is the secret good guy here, but I believe Chronos is taking advantage of a very real hurt that exists for mortals.

This line from Nemesis really stood out to me, because it implies that while mortals have a concept of evil, the gods don't. Which sounds ridiculous but the more you think about it makes total sense. The gods in Hades (and just greek myth in general), are kind of the worst. They are petty and selfish, they literally attack you if their boon isn't picked first, and most vitally in this context, often utterly disregard mortals.

For example, one of the things that drove me a little crazy in Hades 1, was how chill everyone was with Demeter's never ending winter. Demeter was killing possibly millions upon millions of mortals and everyone else just sort of let it happen. Maybe complained a bit because it was annoying to them, but just stood by. And that's just one example. Mortal's have a very valid reason to hate the gods.

And considering we have more areas of the surface to explore that aren't out yet, I have a feeling Melinoë is going to be meeting some of these discontent mortals. And my hope is they are going to be nuanced characters, that will challenge Melinoë not just in a fight, but her very ideals.

Because Melinoë is very deferential to the gods, waaaaaay more that Zag ever was. Unlike Zag, who was more like a bro to them and was willing to suck up to them for personal gain, Melinoë seems to genuinely mean all the respect she gives them. She praises them, defends them when they are insulted, and just generally very polite to them.

In a smaller scale, she describes Hypnos as having a wisdom about him and can somehow sense her intensions while asleep. Which as Nem implies, the version in Melinoë's head doesn't exactly line up with reality (though sidebar, I am a believer in Chekov's Hypnos and that he's going to somehow save the day and put Chronos in a never ending sleep or something, but that's beside the point haha).

Melinoë's reverence to the gods makes total sense of course. She was denied her family and a happy childhood, and because of that has glorified them all in her head. The Olympians are sending her vital aid on her holy mission for vengeance and to save her family, even as their own home is being attacked, how honorable of them!

And I think part of Melinoë's arc is that perfect picture of them breaking into pieces. Yes, they are the better of the two options between them and Chronos, but that doesn't mean they aren't also kind of the worst. That mortals deserve better than frivolous gods that can decide on a whim their fates for better or worse (love u Moros but I'm still fucked up over you and your sisters giving mortals horrible doom endings when you were bored. At least he feels bad now but still. Perfect example of gods even when not intending to having horrific consequences for mortals). And maybe like how Zag healed relations with his family, Melinoë can start repairing relations between the Gods and Mortals.

[zealofchronos]

i share ur struggle.. i ACHE for gepard or welt content so hopefully i could request for something like that? im js gonna throw a bunch of ideas and you can choose whichever

relationship hcs (what he’d be like, how does he show his love etc)

sleeping together (take this whichever way you want)

cooking together in the kitchen (im a whore for this stuff idk why😭)

bedroom hcs (kinks, fav positions, literally anything i need it so bad)

KISSING IN THE SNOW W GEPARD😞

anon i hope you know this ask gave me like 5000 braincells. like suddenly i am THINKING. it's so insane how one little ask full of random blurbs gave me so much life to write even just the smallest things.

literally welt and gepard are my two faves rn, i'm fr just waiting for jing yuan to come out. jing yuan my beloved <3<3

but anyway, as for this little ask, i think we'll ease into the hsr content with some fluff ( i am all due for it anyway, i have Not been writing and i also need the fluff because my god does life hit hard ) so sit tight >:)

love and cherishing you ♡ ;; various x gn!reader headcanons

content;- sfw , fluff , headcanons list , how some hsr boys show their love for you ♡♡ , overall just really fluffy because i need toothrotting stomach ache inducing head swirling sweet fluff sometimes... , nothing about getting together but just general hcs on what they'd be like in a relationship , reader is nooooot...? the trailblazer but could possibly be interpreted as such if you squint

characters inc:- welt yang , gepard landau ( includes post-belobog arc content, not extremely spoilery but take note that i chose after the jarillo-vi conclusion to open up more opportunities >:3 )

together with welt yang . . .

welt has lived life longer than perhaps anyone on the express, being from another world and used to living as the first ( second generation ) herrscher of reason, a herrscher that sided with humanity. he didn't expect to get sucked into another adventure, one where he'll meet many companions, see unbelievable sights or even... fall in love.

he's an old soul, yet his heart still has a grand passion for what he does. the fire within him burns, and perhaps, you stoke the flames. a motivation unlike any other to show you the wonders of the galaxy— of every world.

his love is not the most openly shown, an old man can be embarrassed sometimes. especially in the face of his family of the astral express. his affections for you are for you two only. his touches, his words, the little things that make sparks fly are all special and meant for your ears and eyes only. be it in the privacy of his room, or late nights when everyone else is fast asleep, he'll always find a way to make his love for you known when nobody else is looking.

time together with you is always time well spent. he enjoys it perhaps just a little more than going on adventures with everyone. you could be doing anything, and he wouldn't mind simply sitting in silence together with you. it's comforting, relaxing. it's moments like these where he gets to unwind with you. it's essentially a recharge— he doesn't even have to hold you ( but if you'd like that, he'd be more than happy to ).

he used to be an artist— an animation storyboard artist. his skills on paper would definitely outmatch the rest of the crew. he already likes to have his experiences captured in little drawings in his notebook. well, you happen to be one big, long lasting experience. one that he can't wait to see what more comes while experiencing it. you swear that you can catch him gazing at you every other day, and you always see his pencil moving across the papers in his book. inside are sketches of you in all your beauty, how he adores you, even complete with little notes about the things you like.

he wishes to show you the world, all there is to be seen across the entire galaxy. he will be there, to guide you, to accompany you. it's not that he doesn't trust the rest of the crew, but really, this is the closest thing to a date you've ever gotten. taking in the sights of new worlds, creating new memories together, and maybe getting tossed in a bit of trouble along the way. sure, it may be tiring or troublesome, but he wouldn't want to face it with anyone else.

those that come across him know him as welt yang, but this is the name he has inherited. he doesn't tell it often, perhaps, but at least you know him. the real him. he's not just welt to you, but also joachim. it is something he entrusted to you, who he is, who he once was, who he shall become— everything about him.

he adores you, and all your entirety. you are like a burning star in the galaxy above, one that burns with him.

together with gepard landau . . .

gepard, captain of the silvermane guards is a busy, busy man. between his duties as captain and his daily life, he does his best to find time for you. his lack of charm is exactly what makes him charming, some may say. he's no nonsense, stubborn, "famously uncompromising" ( as his sister claims ) with an unmatched loyalty. it sounds horrendous, but perhaps that's exactly why you love him.

you tell him he should prioritise his duty first and foremost, he is an important figure in belobog, after all. and he does, he stubbornly commits to it. even if he can see in your eyes that you're hesitantly letting him go again. it's in these rare moments that he gives you a small, warming smile and a gentle embrace— he tells you that he'll do his best, for the preservation of belobog, for its people— and most importantly, you.

bothering him on patrol isn't one of your favourite activites, there are definitely more enriching things out there, but you still do it from time to time. usually, it's when the nights are a little colder and you can't seem to sleep. it's the same old thing, each and every time. he tells you you should get home, but not after a quick walk together with him. you'd chat about the little things, and he'd even shyly try to hold your hand in such a moment. after that, he personally escorts you back to your residence, and never forgetting to leave without a kiss goodnight. it may be a simple kiss on the back of your hand, or you might get up for a quick kiss on the cheek. you don't know what you do to him.

gepard doesn't strike me as a type that knows a lot in this area. he was born and raised as a noble child, and then went straight into becoming a protector of the city he grew up in. he'd feel a little flustered at a few things, the ideas and thoughts that come to him while together with you. he's even more embarrassed as he goes to his sister for advice on how to deal with such emotions. he reads books, fiction of romance that he does best to turn into your reality. it's not perfect— he's still clueless on what's a really good date— but he's always trying harder just for you.

it's not often that he gets free time, but once he does, he's quick to seek you out... after his sister of course. for many good reasons, actually. other than the usual check in with his sister he loves so dearly, she is more helpful than most others despite her teasing. serval is a big source of support in his relationship with you, not to say you two can't handle it yourselves. he's just rather clueless about love as a whole sometimes, and she's there to give him a little nudge in the right direction. thanks to her, gepard brought you flowers once, and he does it every so often.

never underestimate the lengths he'd go for you. he may be constantly out there in the front lines trying to combat the antimatter legion and the fragmentum, and he may be busy with training the guards or some other silvermane business, but he would always keep you in mind. you're part of his motivation, and you've grown to be the biggest part of it. you could tell him it's nothing important, if you ask for something, like a favour or likewise, but because it's you, he'll put it right at the top of his priorities. you are his priority.

dates are difficult, especially when you're captain of the guards. walking around with him attracts more attention than any other thing, but it doesn't stop him from inviting you out. the luxuries of belobog would be easy for him to indulge in, as a landau and as captain, but truly, simply spending time with him is enough. your favourite dates are ones where you freely walk aimlessly in the day, perhaps after a bite to eat. fresh snowfall is light upon the city streets, unlike the eternal freeze. you find it hard to resist temptation, letting yourself be swept off your feet for a sweet kiss in the everlasting winter snow.

gepard landau has an immense lack of charm. he's stubborn, he's uncompromising, and maybe even a little dense or a little blunt. but the brighter side of these qualities always show around you. he'll find a way to see you, and he won't rest until he has. his lack of knowledge in this department has him cutely flustered from time to time, but also has him doing unknowingly romantic things. he loves you, and he wants you to know that.

[riaki]

sick days ! gojo x reader ‧˚ - take a soda break…!

the rain outside your window is incessant.

it slides down the foggy glass panes in small rivulets that merge together and break apart, like the people outside on different paths of life. a sea of umbrellas moves like liquid in the streets below; a school of fish in a rainy city, under those fluorescent neons that shine like vibrant coral in the puddles of rain on the concrete.

there’s beauty even in the humid showers of tokyo, reflected in the broken lights and flickering signs; those food stalls full of warm life and fancy clothing stores that you always go in just to not buy anything, and best of all— the vending machines that dot the map.

watching raindrops race was one of your favorite hobbies as a kid. even now, you find yourself absentmindedly tracking the movements; the erratic nature of the blurry droplets as they slide down the glass makes you wonder if there’s hidden ridges on the panels that guide those watery paths.

your train of thought is rudely interrupted by another bout of coughing; that dry, itching feeling in your throat that you just can’t get rid of. drinking water to quell the cough has the same effect as telling your study buddy to stay focused for longer than five minutes. gojo is playing something on his phone again; a rhythm game, by the way he curses under his breath every time his fingers stutter and miss a beat.

you cover your mouth with your elbow, trying to expel the ghost dust that makes your breath hitch every time you try to speak, and he glances up at you, shifting in his seat. his lanky legs are cramped beneath the desktop; his frame doesn’t fit in your room. he has to duck when he enters, lest he hit his head like the first time he came over. like you, he has his head resting in his elbows. unlike you, he isn't ill with a fever so hot it burns cold and the stuffiness in your voice, and he also isn't studying.

"you sure you still wanna be reviewing? this exam doesn't really matter, y'know." gojo remarks, peering up at you from his arm pillow. "you should probably take a break, ’cus you look like shit."

he grins cheekily, pushing a pile of his papers and notes to the edge of the desk, where eraser shavings and broken bits of lead from when he couldn't solve a math problem are crammed. there's scratches and ink stains on the desk, a reminder of how you'd accidentally scribbled past the page’s edge in a sickness induced delirium. it’ll leave permanent marks; at this point you’re convinced you’re writing yourself a secret letter to the future. have you confessed to gojo yet? that’s what it’ll say. right now, it just says something unintelligible.

hopefully you’re still literate in the future, but you’re half-convinced you’re getting dumber every moment you spend caged in with this dunce of a genius.

you lean back in your chair, pulling your knee up to your chest. your pencil falls to the desk with a faint clack, soft yellow lamplight washing your faces warm as gojo scoots closer and peers over your shoulder at your progress. he has a pandora’s box of knowledge in that blue-tinted brain of his; he just refuses to apply it. it’s cocky, spoiled ego in the finest. you should hate him for it.

he snickers. "you're dumb."

"you missed forty-three notes." you countered, shooting him a glare as you point at the disappointed looking character next to a review of the stats from the song he was playing on his phone. gojo grimaces, pulling back like a sad little dog, floppy white hair covering his eyes.

"i was playing with my thumbs."

you ignore him, leaning against the wooden desk before hiding your face in your elbows again and letting out a long sigh. your hot breath curls up in the confines of your body, making you recoil slightly; uncomfortably. heat is the last thing you need with the fever you’re pretty sure you’re running.

"i hate being sick. and i hate studying. can we please give up?" you complained, glancing up at him out of the corner of your eye. your hair obscures your vision, so you can only see a faint glint of amusement in his azure irises as he studies you for a moment before scooting his chair back and standing up. without another word, he leaves the room.

wow. okay.

a moment of silence passes as you sit there, lamenting over your runny nose and the way you sound like you're about to cough a lung up every time you breathe, until you hear the soft sounds of his feet padding on the floorboards coupled with what you presume is ice clinking against glass, signaling his return. you lift your head, blinking blearily. each time you breathe in through your nose, your nostrils burn like dry ice pressed against your skin, only adding to your misery. the dreary weather outside isn't helping much, either.

the cold glass leaves a dark stain on the table, an uneven circle of condensation that soothes the aching in your fingers when your sick skin makes contact. gojo pops the can open, and you watch as he picks the glass up, tilting it to the side to pour the soda in.

“why are you holding it like that?” you asked curiously, a small yawn escaping your lips as you lean against the table. he glances down at you, a cheeky, tiny smile gracing his lips. the sound of bubbles fizzling and popping fills the cozy, cramped room; that cool, sweet liquid seems like the only thing that’ll cure your nasty cough.

“pouring it like this prevents the bubbles from escaping. you like it fizzy, don’t you?” he grins.

condensation clings to his fingers like morning dew upon flower petals as he sets the glass down. you watch the ice cubes bobble about in the soda, clinking against the cup like a mini wind chime. you’re sore from sitting in the same place with terrible posture for three hours, and there’s an ache between your fingers from gripping your pencil tight while you write.

you take a sip from the glass, letting out a contented sigh as the refreshing liquid drains down your scratchy throat. it’s not lemon honey tea for a cold, but it certainly helps. next to you, gojo takes his seat again, grabbing the throw blanket on your bed and tossing it over his legs before he grabs his pencil again. he’s using one of those short pencils, shaved down to a stub from months of use. you always offer him a mechanical pencil, but he refuses.

you sit there, waiting for him to get back to work before you realize he’s staring at you, legs crossed beneath the fuzzy blanket.

you frowned, shifting to face him as you lean against the desk. “what?”

“you’ll take care of me if i get sick too, right?” he tilts his head, like a curious bird.

“why would you get sick?”

you’re too relate to react when he makes a mad grab for your glass of soda, holding it out of your reach. a few droplets spill out and spatter onto your notebook, forcing a sigh from your lips.

“gojo…” you groaned, rubbing your temple with your fingers and praying for strength.

he just smirks, taking a lengthy sip. you watch his adam’s apple bob as a bit of condensation builds on his chin and trickles down his throat.

“you know what? i dont feel like studying either.” he announces, setting the glass back down on the wooden table with a loud thunk.

“so? what do you wanna do?” you huffed petulantly.

“download project sekai, and we can do a co-op live.”

“…you’re kidding.”

[magneticecstasy]

clandestine (drabble/wip)

read all of clandestine here

pairing: teacher!joel x f!reader

rating: m (minors dni)

warnings: age gap (joel is in his 30s and f!reader is 18) power imbalance (teacher/student relationship), slightly pervy!joel bc hello he’s pining after his student, implied that reader is a virgin, slight smut

a/n: i’ve literally never written any fanfic or smut before and this is my first go at it. this will hopefully become part of a larger fanfic that i’m planning. this drabble is meant to take place during a history school trip to berlin where teacher!joel is a chaperone.

i would love to hear any feedback/advice about this piece and i hope ya’ll like it!🖤

joel studied you like an artefact, not unlike the one you were admiring in front of you, and drank you in.

he rarely saw you in regular clothes, save for non-uniform days to raise money for some charity selected by the college. even then, it was expected for you to dress modestly, covered up. here on this trip though, you were able to dress more akin to what you wanted to wear, able to show more skin and more of your body - much to joel’s delight. his eyes scanned past your soft locks to your chest clothed in a teasing milkmaid top. the bodice, cinched tightly, the soft, gathered fabric caressed your waist, accentuating your figure with a subtle yet irresistible allure. the garment emphasized the swell of your breasts, while the tie front drew attention to the tantalizing valley of your cleavage.

he fantasised about what they would look like in his large hands, caressing and massaging them, picturing what illicit noises he could solicit from your lips if he were to squeeze and pinch your soft buds. he wondered if he would be the first to touch you like this. the thought of him being first to lay claim of you made him hard, straining slightly painfully against his thick jeans. damn, you’re going to be the death o’ me, darlin’, he thought.

in this gallery full of art, he would still prefer to gaze upon you. there’s nothing wrong with that, right? he thought, i’m just lookin’, observin’, whatever y’wanna to call it. he’s never acted out physically on this attraction, this infatuation with you, a student, so he believed he was in the clear, for now. he decided to keep his dirty thoughts of you to himself, kept tucked away the next time he returns to his hotel room later tonight.

to him, you appeared not to notice his eyes devouring every little inch of your body, too engrossed in each of the collected works in the gallery. but you felt his gaze and allowed him to lap you up. if it were any other man, it would feel perverted, disgusting. in truth, you were revelling in the way mr. miller was staring at you, probably undressing you in his mind. it felt wrong in a sense, him being your teacher in a position of power over you, but in the same sense, it felt too good to stop him.

[transmascaraa]

Noelle Anon here! I loved your work! It was so cute and made my little sapphic heart explode! Could I maybe request the same thing with other genshin girls of your choosing? I just love them all so much!!!! Maybe with fem!reader this time?

Have a good night/day! <3

multiple characters headcannons!

cooking with them...

characters: furina, sucrose, arlecchino, navia x fem!reader

author's note: hiiiii i haven't written in a while😭 didn't have much time and not too much motivation for writing lmfao but now i'm here to write this because the req is adorable! i chose women that i thought you'd like because everyone likes them i guess so yeah<3 i hope you enjoy this and i tried my best to write smthn wlw i hope it's good enough

♡ Furina

-we all know how she's not one of the best cooks. so, you being one makes it a bit better.

-still, if you wanted to cook WITH her, then the food would probably just have to be macaroni.

-not gonna judge, i love it js as much as she does.

-you decided to get prepared one day, to cook together, and prepare a meal for one another!

-although you know that the only options you had were macaroons and macaroni, where she only had one option.

-so you started cooking macaroons.

-it is always SO fun to cook with her. she's always smiling and talking with you, talking about the most random things ever.

-of course, if you don't like talking much, she'll talk less but not be quiet entirely.

-know that you're gonna get a few kisses during the tiem being.

-and when you finally finish both of your meals, and prepare them for eachother, furina literally has a new shine in her eyes.

-when she tried it, she mumbled something that she thought you wouldn't hear

-"i don't care. this is my new favorite food."

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

✿ Sucrose

-she's like noelle, so i think you get the point what she'd be like.

-whatever you'd cook for eachother, she'd like it. and the other way around.

-the cooking experience with her is very calming, too.

-you might chit-chat about something randomly but know that it's mostly quiet with the sounds of nature from outside.

-if you liked to talk a lot tho, she had no problem of listening to your pretty voice while she cooked something for you.

-you made a cheesecake for her!

-setting the table together, and finally sitting down to try the food.

-whatever she made you, it was really decorated and the only thing that you knew that it was some type of cake.

-and she recognized that your's is a cheesecake almost immediately.

-when she tried it, she started talking to you, blushing a bit, about how much she's grateful for you.

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

✧ Arlecchino

-i'm pretty sure this isn't too ooc

-now, what i know is that she's definitely a great cook.

-i mean, she's a 'father', a parent to her children, of course she knows how to cook!

-so you had no problems asking her to cook with her. you knew that the kitchen wouldn't be burned down. hopefully.

-alright, you start cooking something that everyone likes, cupcakes! but the ones that you were able to make for her were cherry ones!

-arlecchino wasn't entirely quiet throughout the cooking either. it was either you or her talking with some kisses that can't be missed. she talked about her kids and her missions, while you either talked about her work in return, or about why you still love her despite it all.

-when you finish cooking and come to the dinner table with her, there's not much reaction on her face yet, unlike your's which was clearly happy.

-she made you cinnamon rolls!

-(i'm sorry if it's something you don't like)

-when she tried the cherry cupcake, you got a smirk from her.

-"you're a good cook, pretty girl."

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

✯ Navia

-this girl will make you the best food ever. she will take this activity very seriously with you.

-usually, you'd think that maybe the conversations that you'd have throughout the process very little, but that's not the case.

-she would talk with you the whole time.

-"i remember once when i was little..."

-"do you remember when i..."

-"can you pass me the sugar?"

-you get the point.

-of course, she won't miss the chance to give you a few kisses.

-and finally when you cooked eachother the "special food", turns out the both of you made macaroons for eachother.

-that just resulted in a laugh from you both as you now started talking about whose are better.

-she said yours were better.

-but you denied and said the opposite.

-however you look at it, cooking with her is a great experience to not only get to know eachother better, but also just for the fun of it.

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

okay i love this one

it's so cute

i hope anyone who reads it likes it, especially you anon because i liked the noelle req too!!^^

| @mariaace <3

[2kyo7]

♱ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘 ♱ | SOLEIL

pairing ; adrian tepes , trevor belmont , sypha belnades x female reader

ཐི ➥ summary ; As the world begins to pay the toll of Dracula's rage, four unlikely heroes must band together and defeat him--no matter the price.

warnings ; swearing

notes ; hopefully the dialogue reads accurate to how the characters actually talk in the series😓😓. Lmk what u guys think!!

ONCE LEAVING ALUCARD's TOMB Sypha wished her people many sorrowful goodbyes, watching for the first time as they traveled somewhere she could not. Soon they themselves would too depart from Gresit and in turn leave for west where their destination rested in between the territories of both OTTOMAN and MOLDAVIA.

Admittedly the journey was...unfavorable to say the least, paths were thick with snow and ice—turning their fires into signals for enemies which hid in the cover of night. Conversation was admirable, but only when Trevor and Alucard were not knee deep in conflict (which happened more often than not).

After yet another disagreement, Sypha attempted to lighten the atmosphere with questions. "Soooo Savior, how exactly do you know of this true blood? And how are you so sure they'll help us?" He released a drawn sigh and look towards the pile of burning wood before him, "we aren't exactly going to meet just one pure blooded vampire—this is a family of them."

Trevor was quick to sit up in protest, but Alucard held out a hand, almost pleading with the man to stay silent for just a moment. "They are family friends... or once were, before my father had a falling out with the family's head." His face became tense with focus as if it was painful to recall such years ago. "The fight wasn't anything extravagant or gruesome—pure bloods' consider themselves above such 'unnecessary brutality' in their words, but we've never spoken another word to each other since."

Alucard clenched his fist in frustration, to keep himself from saying the unthinkable. "Anyhow, they won't slaughter us when we step onto their doorstep if that's what you're thinking, by the time we get there they'll probably be full off lunch." Sypha huffed before crossing one arm over the other.

"You never answered my second question, are you so sure they'll help us—pure blooded vampires are still vampires nonetheless." Alucard placed a hand between his brows where a wrinkle formed, "I'm not."

"Oh bloody Christ almighty!" Trevor held quiet for long as he knew how, now standing from his icy snow bed he threw his arms high in the air. "We're out here in fucking god knows where about to walk into the god forbidden den of an apex predator! JUST MY LUCK!" Alucard scoffed at what he could only describe as a tantrum, "we need a true blood Belmont, whether you soil over yourself at the thought or not. Now as I've said, it's possible they'll refuse to join us, but in any case they won't kill us. That I'm sure enough of."

"Trevor you quite literally kill vampires for a living, how much different can these pure bloods be?" Sypha shrugged her shoulders in confusion, not exactly exhilarated by the idea of the human race depending on the choice of a single unworldly being. "Oh! I don't know speaker, maybe because they're a 100 times faster, stronger, not to mention smarter then your average run-of-the-mill vamps."

"Like I've said time again, there will be no fight."

"Sure, because we'll already be maggot food before we can get a single word out."

And here they go again, Sypha watched them bicker like children over the last slice of bread—how much longer will she have to put up with this? The more they fought, the angrier she became until eventually water appeared from thin air to slightly soak the two. "What in heaven's name?"—"What the hell!" They shout in union, "Enough! Both of you! We have a long journey ahead and none of your childish yelling will get us there any quicker."

With that concluded the conversation for the night's entirety, Sypha slept soundly knowing there wouldn't be any interrupting noise while Trevor nearly froze to death, his lifeline, the glowing fire in front of him. Though Alucard had his fill on slumber, this wouldn't be of any use as he too clung tight to any of the warmth provided to him that unfortunate night.

After nearly a week of tireless walking during the day while constantly having to fight off hoards of unearthly creatures at night, the trip was proving quite testing. But there efforts were not in vain, finally they'd made it, relishing in their success as a great wooden sign nailed neatly onto high gates read: Welcome to LAVATRIS—population 4,500.

Before they even attempted to make their presence known a man rose from above the gate's entrance, his appearance was a bit disheveled, he had been dressed much too casually to be an official guard of any sort. "State your names and business with Lavatris." His voice was monotone, like he was bored beyond comparison. The three of them looked around to another for a moment, "Ahem. We are stopping by for some shelter...we've been walking for a many days and are terribly exhausted."

The guard stared down upon them with a look of doubt, but prying any further might've killed him. So with a wave of his hand the gates rumbled loudly against ground flooring, opening up just enough for the three of them to pass. "Don't cause any trouble or we'll kill you—blah blah blah." Once entering the gate began to close just as soon as it opened, "that was odd..to say the least."

"Didn't even matter what we woulda said to the fucker, what kind of security is that? I'll be surprised if this town wasn't a complete sh—" Trevor's assumptions had been cut short at the sight of the city. It's streets were bustling and busy, everywhere you looked had been a different story. People were smiling, playing, loving, exactly opposite of what they'd grown accustomed to in Gresit.

Walking along the streets they were in awe, music played on every corner, new smells of delicious foods anytime you turned, it's almost like they had been disconnected from what went on in the outside world. "The city's always been like this," Alucard spoke, a small grin protruding on his face. "These people have been protected by vampire royalty for generations, and in turn they are food pens."

"Tch like a dog on a leash." Trevor said through muffled anger, hands knee deep in his pockets as he looked around with disgust. "No like a fair trade. True bloods value status, and this proves it—having their meals ready to eat whenever they need, without the hunt? That's lavish living for any vampire." Alucard once again contradicts Trevor's statements with venom on his tongue.

"So these pure bloods don't hunt at all?" Sypha inquired, the happy aura becoming almost contagious as she too found herself smiling. "Not in this city, they travel to surrounding areas if they’re feeling extra peckish."'

Deeper they traverse into the city of Lavatris each part being as lively as the rest. "For heaven's sake I need a drink." Trevor dashed towards the ale vendor, slamming down about three gold coins onto the wooden surface below. "Can't you wait a moment's more? Their home is just through this passing."

"Alucard's right Trevor," she snatched the currency in her hands before the vendor could collect, sending them an apologetic look. "The fate of humanity is resting on our shoulders, and all you can think of is a drink?"

He groaned, appearing as if he would combust at any moment now, mumbling beneath his breath: "At the very least wanted a cold one before I died."

They would begin to walk up a steep hill overrun with large trees the size of mountains that have long since lost their coverage caused by the unforgiving winter season. As they continue to march forwards, a dark grand castle begun to shown through, easily seen in deep contrast with the bright evening sky and nature's frosty white blanket. Breathtaking was one word to describe it upon many others.

When approaching, they were met by two towering iron doors that appeared almost implausible to push open on their own intent. Alucard stood in between both Sypha and Trevor, stepping up further than either of his comrades, knuckles raised and ready for impact. "Before we enter, both of you must remember. True bloods aren't like regular vampires, they are not driven by the need for food or power. Instead pleasure and entertainment."

"Just open the godforsaken door." Trevor began to stretch past Alucard, but before he could make contact the doors slowly unfurl revealing only unending darkness inside, ancient gears turned from within while the density of the doors weighted against the marble floors.

Everyone looked to each other, a silent uncertainty weighing heavy on their minds. Alucard was first to ascend further, the others following soon after, and once everyone had gathered entirely inside—the doors swiftly closed shut, a loud BANG promptly following suit—trapping them helplessly inside.

"WHO DARES ENTER MY FORTRESS!"

[jellywalker-apocalypse]

Do the beasts have individual goals regarding how to use the apocalypse to their advantage? If so, what are they?

(Dramatic Clearing Of Throat. We all came together to answer this.)

Silent Salt - Silent Salt is like.. for lack of a better word, very narrow minded about her own goals. They don’t necessarily see their goal as locked onto getting rid of a specific person or a specific group-their goal is moreso widespread than anything else. Yes, she wants the Soul Jam back from White Lily, as it’d make things 10x easier, but is she going to focus specifically on getting that? Not at all.

She attacks Jellywalkers if they’re too loud or annoying (typically large groups), so she’s kind of like a middle ground in the overall situation. Helpful in some aspects, detrimental in others (like attacking groups of survivors). Honestly, in the bigger situation, she’s almost like a support for the other Beasts to do larger damage

Her name is fitting even in this story. Silent Salt. She’s a silent killer, a silent watcher-she’ll strike and then leave naught a trace apart from the split bodies of Cookies-infected or survivor alike. She doesn’t HAVE much of a goal other than to bring silence to an already decaying world. Put an end to its lasting reign, start anew-with the Beasts ruling over obedient, silent, and willing to listen Cookies (those who she does not kill).

Eternal Sugar - Eternal Sugar seeks her own happiness! By plunging the world into an eternal slumber and granting themselves unwavering power / immortality (through stealing the life powder / magic of other cookies). The apocalypse massively aids her with this plan; desperate cookies will easily fall victim to sugar-coated lies and 'promises' of paradise, and are more likely to fall asleep when under Eternal Sugar's spell, which is what allows her to drain them of their strength in the first place. When Hollyberry Kingdom is .. well, annhilated, it not only allows her to take over the Kingdom for herself, but also allows them to lure Hollyberry closer. Having the Soul Jam back would help her strengthen and spread the word of eternal paradise!

Admittedly, she does "pity" the Jellywalkers. They can't be blessed with sweet dreams and have very little sustenance for her to take from. But she can't deny how useful they are! Especially if a couple of cookies just quite can't fall asleep yet.

Shadow Milk - Unlike Salt, Shadow Milk is almost COMPLETELY, STRICTLY focused on slowly chipping down the mentality of Pure Vanilla. Of course, like most of the others — his main motivation is getting that other half of the soul jam back so then he can just have the absolute most fun with the chaos of the world literally falling apart. Seeing it deteriorate as much as it already is is GREAT, yes … But what’s a little more, huh?

His methods are a little less .. Straightforward, I’d say. With the Pure Vanilla kingdom being the only relatively Jellywalker free place in earthbread, he uses this fact + the stress of not knowing how the other ancients are doing down there + ANYTHING ELSE THAT COULD POSSIBLY CAUSE HIM STRESS to literally mentally torture Pure Vanilla. The ultimate goal? To put it bluntly, make Pure Vanilla go down below and practically kill himself so getting the souljam is truly “as easy as it can be”.

In other words, he uses the stress of the apocalypse to slowly-but-hopefully-surely chip down at Pure Vanilla’s mentality until he gets what he wants out of him. Hehe~

Burning Spice - HE. WANTS. POWER. THRILL. Any and ALL of it! At the time of his whole .. Thing , Golden Cheese Cookie is actually still within her digital kingdom . Burning Spice , instead of personally breaching it himself … quite literally just … Uses the jellywalkers — or moreso waits for them to fully take down the digital world themselves , while HE on the outside (in what’s left of her real kingdom), Destroys it to practically nothing so she “has a surprise to come back to”

Of course, since the beasts aren’t immune to the aggression of jellywalkers, he’ll gladly kill any who get too “feisty” with him or whatever, but overall in terms of “using the apocalypse to their advantage“, Burning Spice uses the mindless violence of jellywalkers, treating them like brainless minions of sort to cause further harm and destruction to things around him; perhaps quicker at that. If he makes GC’s kingdom on the outside a literal hell while the jellywalkers are busy messing up her digital kingdom, then it should be a piece of cake to get that souljam back and get absolute power once shes out, right? A good presentation, fight, AND reward!

Mystic Flour - She’s ! Snoozin. Mimis.

[lindwurmkai]

hey, have you heard that pillowfort has ✨ drafts ✨ now? (as in, the ability to save your posts as drafts.) they're still working on the queue feature (update: it's done!), but drafts are a big step forward!

in case you missed it so far, pillowfort is like a cross between tumblr and dreamwidth/livejournal, with a simplified dashboard reminiscent of old school tumblr and some classic livejournal features such as communities, threaded comments, and the ability to make individual posts followers-only or mutuals-only.

what are communities? basically, central hubs for posts about any subject you want that, unlike hashtags, can be moderated. they may have rules, such as "[subject matter] must be tagged" for example. you can post directly to a community or reblog existing posts to it!

since the site is currently experiencing some financial trouble, i thought i'd help out by spreading the word once again.

edit: the fundraiser was a success! crisis averted! i knew we could do it :D

why you should give pillowfort a chance:

no ads

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nsfw is allowed except for sexual depictions of minors. if you're unsure what exactly that means, their tos may help

communities and the privacy controls mentioned above are excellent features

great community, low drama compared to other websites (so far)

the site's features themselves encourage genuine connection and good-faith conversation over endless "discourse"

every blog can automatically be filtered by original posts only or reblogs only

reasons not to join:

if you enjoy algorithmic social media. there is no algorithm at all

if you want to post or look at machine-generated art. they're still finalising the wording and personally i hope some exception will be made for models trained on ethically sourced images, but basically an anti-AI rule is in the works (update: finished!)

if you cannot live without reblog additions (reblogging with comment). all discussions on a pillowfort post take place in the comments section, and only your own followers see your tags. this has its pros and cons for sure! a similar feature to scratch that itch may be implemented in the future, but it will never be exactly like on tumblr.

if you need everything to be an app. the website works fine in a mobile browser and a progressive web app will hopefully be released soon (basically it's like an app in your browser and on mobile these can be added to the homescreen like real apps i think? they have push notifications!), but there's not going to be a native app available through official app stores due to the restrictions of those stores.

other factors to consider:

yes, the userbase is still small. depending on your interests, activity may be very slow. but we can change that! and on the plus side, reblogging your post to a community is a good way to easily get more eyes on it; way more effective than simply adding tags imo

the site culture is a bit different than on tumblr. many people read everything that's been posted since the last time they were online and don't follow more users/communities than they can keep up with. it's still somewhat lacking in shitposts and heavy on "essays" but don't be afraid to post whatever 😅

there are no blog themes like we have them on tumblr as yet, but you can customise your blog's colours and use html/insert links and images in your blog description

likes literally do nothing except to let OP know you enjoyed their post. you can't look at a list of all your likes. beware!

the staff is small and development is slow. some highly anticipated planned features other than the aforementioned queue include: - multi-account management - dashboard filters/reading lists - post bookmarking (since likes don't work that way) but we don't know how soon any of those will be implemented.

there is a user-developed browser extension (well, a userscript) called tassel available that adds additional features much like tumblr's beloved xkit :)

✨ okay, so how do i sign up? ✨

if you're interested but confused by the sign-up process or still under the impression that you need to pay to sign up (false), i'll put some clarifications and invite codes under the read more below. plus a note on donating, premium features, the paypal issue etc.

in a nutshell:

it's free

signing up without an invite code is possible, but you may have to wait a short while - supposedly less than an hour atm. just submit your email to the waitlist

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every user gets plenty of invite codes and we're all willing to hand them out at the drop of a hat. they're really not hard to come by

some invites to get you started (just click the link):

invite 1 ▪ invite 2 ▪ invite 3 ▪ invite 4 ▪ invite 5

invite 6 ▪ invite 7 ▪ invite 8 ▪ invite 9 ▪ invite 10

invite 11 ▪ invite 12 ▪ invite 13 ▪ invite 14 ▪ invite 15

invite 16 ▪ invite 17 ▪ invite 18 ▪ invite 19 ▪ invite 20

i'll try to periodically check if any have been used and cross those out.

...paypal issue?

ok so paypal doesn't like working with sites that allow nsfw. as a result, you need a credit card in order to donate to pillowfort, buy one of those insta-registration keys, or subscribe to premium features*. i personally happen to have a credit card and would be willing to help out anyone who trusts me enough to send the money to me via paypal, but i realise chances are only my friends will do this.

some users are currently organising various activities for the purpose of letting people who only have paypal contribute to the site's survival. it's not super relevant for new users and won't get you access to premium features, but i thought i'd mention it anyway in case someone loves the concept of the site so much they want to support it immediately. a fundraising community has been created to collect posts of that nature!

*premium features are strictly limited to two categories of things:

fun little extras that no one truly needs

higher image upload limits, because obviously big images take up bandwidth and are therefore a reason for increased costs

you will never need to pay for vital accessibility features or anything of the sort. :)

[luffyvace]

☆♪Ace x childhood best friend reader (who he has a crush on)☆♪

I’m trying to make my titles more appealing and fun to look at hopefully it’s working~!

(still not bothering with aesthetics this is something i personally wanna do)

For the record these are gender neutral so no worries

How y’all met? I’m not gonna go into specifics but you likely went into his territory

unless you met on one of his trips to the city for food n such

those three brothers are close and two didn’t trust easily back then

But once you make it in they’re circle there’s no backing down

from then on you always go to play with them and go on adventures together

they decided to keep you as a friend rather than a sibling

(back to present)~

ace honestly loves you because you accepted him, your cool, your (likely) strong whether that’s mentally or physically and most of all you’ve stuck by his side all this time

even him and luffy went they’re separate ways to become pirates

but you? You two met and have never separated since

you’ve literally kept your promise not to leave unlike no other

your always there

finally he has someone in his corner

and someone as cool as you?? How could he not fall in love 😍😍

Really he figured it out while just spacing out one day real early

like early enough to see the sunrise

he was just staring off, scouting just in case, although his mind was mostly on you

he laughed to himself thinking about memories of you two

and even more so that your still here

he noticed how nervous he now was to talk to you when you got up

he had a funny feeling in his stomach, his hands/breathing was jittery and he kept running his hand through his hair, trying to fight a smile

he was so incredibly nervous yet excited to see you!!

but why?! Today’s an ordinary day!

what is he some kind of love sick puppy?!…

lovesick?

LOVE???

WAIT WHAT THE CRAP HE NEVER CONSIDERED THAT!!

wait….no way, right?? He’s in love??

bro WHAT?! HE’S IN LOVE??

he’s..in love with (name)

wow…all this time he never even thought of that

NOW HE REALIZES HOW FLIRTY HE’S BEEN WITH YOU?!

it wasn’t even intentional!!

and now that he realizes it…….he always has the funny feeling every time he talks to you!

and his heart spikes when you call him!

bro…..wow.

*sits there in realization for the next hour*

how he acts when he has a crush:

Honestly he’s just trying to impress you and make you happy in every way

he acts chivalrous, paying for all the diners you stop at, opening doors, pulling out chairs, reminding you of things, grabbing your coat, doing you favors (ones you didn’t ask for but appreciate)

yes this is all very cliche and cheesy but you can’t go wrong with that right??

I mean…does it look like he knows how to love?! 😀

he never met either of his parents!! 😬🤦‍♀️

bro is trying his best okay?? 🤷‍♀️

he playfully shows off

he does it in a way that’s not annoying too, it doesn’t feel like he’s bragging when he does it

”hurrrr look at my big musclessss! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ”

LOLLL

he does it in a way that makes you laugh so it seems more like a joke

he gets you meaningful trinkets and stuff he remembers you like/said your wanted

when you two join the WBP

he also asks Marco and Izo for advice on how to act around you (just act normal bro)

as well as whitebeard!!

Thatch too

he rambled to literally everyone except you about you

then he has to beg and do favors for them not to tell you all the cheesy/embarrassing things he says

goodness Ace 🤦‍♀️

he goes around like a love sick puppy for a few weeks ranting about you and celebrating about becoming a man (😂💗)

but then when Marco asks when he’s gonna ask you out….

Ace FREAKS out.

like he literally forgot about that part-

IS IT TOO LATE?! DID YOU ALREADY FIND ANOTHER MAN??-

wait you two are childhood best friends you would’ve told him 🤨

oh.

okay well great!-

now……how does he confess?🧍‍♀️

seriously he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know what to say, do or give you

OR where to do it OR when OR if he’s even good enough OR if you won’t like him..

WAIT WHAT IF HE’S NOT A GOOD ENOUGH BOYFRIEND?!

wait..WHAT IF YOU DON’T LOVE HIM BACK⁉️

He’s feels like giving up already😞

theres so many women/men in the world why would you want some lost parentless pirate who questions his existence…

now when he goes to Marco and says all that he just laughs at him and calls him emo 😊

no but in all seriousness he brings Ace back to his senses and reminds him about what if you DO love him back 😏

😮🤩🤩

he forgot all about that!- (😀)

WAIT WHAT IF YOU DO LIKE HIM BACK!!

THIS IS SO EXCITING!!

him and Marco run to find izo and have a bro meeting immediately

which happens and the three immediately start planning the confession >:3

they put they’re heads together to conjure something they know you’d like but doesn’t seem too sappy

his confession !! 🤩

the next time the ship stops at an island he takes you to a calm beach area where you relax and have some fun all day

your nakama are around but it mostly just seem like the world is just you and Ace right now

midday is when Ace strikes!

this was izo’s idea

no! it’s not because if he had to wait the next day to interact with you as his girlfriend he wouldn’t get any sleep >:(

Ace brought the topic to your childhood past together as you ate lunch and at some point you didn’t notice he transitioned to how he feels about you and how much he cares about you and that it would be everything to him if you became his girlfriend.

now it’s your turn to ‘WAIT WHAT’ :)

that was so smooth!

you didn’t even notice he was trying to confess until the end!

Wow did that surprise you!

at least your muscles were still working so that you could nod your head because you certainly didn’t know what to say!

____________「what do you say?」____________

____________Yes. No.____________ ＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿ (mini bonus): if you aspired to be a pirate, simply don’t mind or would like to support his dream, you joined the spade pirates! (Which obviously gets consumed into the whitebeard pirates, but hey your captain made the decision so you don’t mind). If your strong he’ll make you vice captain since your his first ever nakama. <3 otherwise you might be the navigator, medic or something else your good at! Likely not something that puts you in immediate danger though. He worries about the ones he loves leaving him too much for that.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED LOVLIES !! 🦋🦋

I need to write about ace more but I also needs get past the impel down arc but I also don’t (spoiler) wanna watch his death but I also wanna see more of his backstory and finish one piece and- ｡.:*｡.:*💥 _:(´o`」 ∠): …… d(￣ ￣) - I’m good

[adventuringblind]

Daddy Issues Finale

Max Verstappen x reader

Genre: Angst and hurt/comfort

Request: no but they are open for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, and possibly Danny Ric if y’all have any ideas

Summary: Finally needing both fathers to leave you and Max alone, you start making steps towards going no contact to protect yourselves. Suddenly, the reader finds herself in an unlikely situation and once again finds herself dealing with their fathers.

Warnings: Read the title… it literally says daddy issues. Most forms of abuse are mentioned in this fic, so please proceed with caution. Sort of kidnapping. Reader is drugged. Also, this isn’t proofread because proofreading is hard, and I am lazy.

Notes: we’re back in third person! Also, the reader gets so fed up and becomes a slight menace. I totally was not expecting it to get this dark but here ya go!

Masterlist // Part one // Part two

Max was well aware he needed to do something about this situation. He just didn't know what yet.

It had been a few days since he found her on the floor. Eye's puffy and cheeks tear stained. He felt every bit of restraint he had snapped in him. He knew that logical thing to do was try to go no contact woth both fathers. But that didn't stop him from wanting to punch both for what they did to her.

He'd convinced her to get away for a while. So you headed out with Kika for some 'girl time' as she called it.

Max, on the other hand, was sat on the couch with Pierre, Lando, and Charles. Trying his best to give an explanation of what happened without getting to detailed.

They were nosey, though. So Max was bound to spill eventually.

"He hit her- twice."

The three other men stared at him in shock. Their mouths agape at what he'd just confessed.

"That explains her behavior when I picked her up from the airport." Lando sighed.

"What are you going to do about it, Mate?" Piqued Charles. His hand rubbing against his head to try and process what he'd just heard.

"I don't know yet if I'm being honest."

They all were aware of the bags under Max’s eyes. How his voice sounded so broken. He’d seemed so happy just last week. Thinking his father was finally going to let him breathe. Jos technically did, but he turned that frustration to you instead.

Yesterday Max was given her phone. She had set it in his lap and said everything he’d need to know was in your texts. One rule neither had ever broken was going through each others phones without permission. Both sides had parents that loved to invade privacy. So the two had come to the conclusion that they would communicate what they felt needed to be at that moment.

Y/N had struggled to talk about what happened the last few months. So she just gave Max her phone and let him read what had been texted to her. It was a little easier this way. He could get find what he’d needed to know and maybe get some questions answered and she didn’t have to struggle to get the words out.

“The things they’ve said to both of us are awful, but this a new extent of that.” His voice wavered. His friends doing their best to comfort him. They all knew it was bad. It was obvious after he started joking about it like it was normal. “We both have their numbers blocked. So hopefully that will keep them away for now.”

“Well your dad showed up at your door. Do you think he might do it again?” Pierre’s voice, albeit gentle, had an urgency about it.

Max groaned and flopped backwards further into the couch. The thought hitting him like a train. His dad could show up unannounced, again. “We’ll have to move.”

“There’s an open apartment in my building.” Lando quickly suggested. “We could have sleepovers!”

~

It didn’t take long for the two to get the apartment. Even less time for getting everything moved in. It wasn’t too far away from where they had been living, and everyone wanted to help get them out of there as quick as possible.

Everyone had agreed not give any ideas that they had moved. Privacy becoming important for the two lovers. Both stopped their online presence aside from Max’s professional one. He doesn’t even run that account, his PR manager does. He’d had a conversation with her talking about how he’d been having some safety issues.

The two were relieved when they made it to the next race with no parents in sight. Y/N however, was still on edge about sitting in the Redbull garage. Max was understanding about it and said he could see if Christian would let her sit by him to watch or maybe in the Alpine garage with Kika.

She went for the second option. Waiting until the very last second to give Max a kiss before the race. Then she made her way through the paddock to locate Kika.

She was so close to the safety of the Alpine garage. Close to being able to enjoy the race and watch Max do what he loves. Until a familiar face had her doubling back to the safety of Redbull. Or maybe nowhere was safe.

People were closing in on her. Her breath becoming increasingly restricted in her lungs. She needed to get back within eye shot of Christian. He knew some of what happened. Enough to know that if he saw Jos around the Redbull garage, to have him escorted away. He’d probably be busy though, and she didn’t want to distract anyone.

She did feel a little better after seeing Max in first on the screen. Her eyes leaving the path in front of her for a measly ten seconds. Only to find herself falling to the ground.

She gathered her bearings and made a move to get back on her feet. Until she felt a hand in her shoulder.

“It’s been awhile,” Came the voice of Jos Verstappen.

~

Max had an amazing race. He was excited to win, but he was also excited to find his lover. He didn’t see her during the podium celebration. Most likely due to the crowds. He’d try to locate her in the Alpine garage when he was don’t.

As he was walking around doing his media duties, he locked eyes with Pierre. Pierre who was holding hands with Kika. Kika who was supposed to be with you.

Max excused himself from the reporter and jogged up to his friend. “Kika, do you know where Y/N is?”

“No, sorry, I haven’t seen her all day. I thought she was with you since she hasn’t answered my texts.” She explained.

All three passed looks of confusion before they all became determined to find you.

Max was texting and calling you repeatedly. Praying that neither of your fathers had actually shown up. He finally ran into Christian who was trying to congratulate him on another win. Max, however, only hear the sound of you crying from his memories. Concern flooded through Christian as he watched Max delve further into the panic.

“Max? Are you alright? Can you tell me what’s going on?” He voice calm but urgent enough to get Max to come back to his senses. Now clinging to the sound. Using it to ground himself.

“She’s missing.” He breathed

“Who? Y/N.”

Max frantically began nodding his head. The desperation to find her clearly evident.

“I’ll ask around the garage if anyone has seen her. Why don’t you check your driver room and take a minute to breath.”

He didn’t want to take time to himself. He should be looking for his love. Christian made a point though, he wouldn’t be able to think rationally if he didn’t calm down.

Now he sits alone. Letting the tears escape. Still attempting to call her only to be greeted by the cheery voicemail recording.

When he’d calmed himself down and it didn’t feel like his head was spinning, he began his search one more. Retracing the possible path you might have taken to the Alpine garage.

It seemed everyone was searching high and low for her now.

There were only so many places you could be.

Max was startled by the sudden sound of his phone ringing in his pocket. Disregarding the caller ID, he simply answered “hello” without any hesitation.

“Is this Mr. Verstappen?” Asked an unfamiliar feminine voice.

“Yes, who am I speaking with?”

“This is a nurse from the general hospital.”

Everything after that was a blur. He hardly focused on the details. Only running back to his drivers room to find his rental car keys and his wallet.

He ran into Lando on the way. Making his best attempt at explaining while rushing around to grab his things. He hadn’t even bothered changing back into regular clothes yet.

“How about I drive and you change in the backseat.” Lando shot Max a wink and despite everything going on, Max managed a smile. At least he knows where she is now.

~

Everything happened in a whirlwind. One minute she was on her way to see Kika and the next she was gripped by the arm and told not to make a scene.

Her survival instincts kicked in. Knowing she should listen to the man who is determined to make her and Max’s lives miserable. He really needs a new hobby.

She wanted to scream as they passed by Redbull again, but something in her stopped her lungs from doing so. ‘Why is defending someone you love easier than defending yourself?’ She thinks to herself as the two exit the paddock entirely.

It doesn't take long until Jos is shoving her into the back seat. She complies, knowing he's unpredictable.

When she finally is in the car, she notices the figure on the drivers side starting the car.

Her father had come along too.

"Isn't this considered kidnapping?" She asks sarcastically. The car pulling put and starting the journey to an unknow destination.

Neither of them speak. It's unsettling and eerie.

She wanted Max. She needed Max. She knew if she wasn't back before race end that he would be frantic.

They'd tried so hard to be safe and private at the same time. Maybe they should have just made a public statement. Now, everyone was going to find out in the most dramatic way possible.

"Are you going to murder me?"

"No, now shut up, or I will." Spits Jos.

"I would if just told me where we're going." She shrugs. Knowing she's making them aggravated.

If Jos hadn't taken her phone, this would be a very different situation. She curses whoever made women's pockets so small.

"Fine, if you need to know so bad, im taking you home. Far away from Max. Back where you belong." Her Father shouts. Knuckles are turning white from gripping the steering while so hard. "You two are bad influences on each other. You tell each other lies about your families! I've done some research, and I think maybe you're hallucinating. I'm taking you home where you can get help." He explains.

This time, she didn't say anything. The tears weren't stopping. You knew your father had said things like this before about your mom. Going as far as to try and get her diagnosed with any kind of mental disorder that fit.

It never worked because she never had symptoms of anything he was suggesting. How was he expecting to make it work this time?

The answer came sooner than expected. A moment she slipped into the back of her head to escape left her open and vulnerable.

A needle was jammed into her leg by Jos. A cold feeling spreading through her body. She had no idea what it was. Only that it wasn't good and she needed to get out of this car.

The adrenaline from her flight instincts kicked in, and her breathing picked up. They were on a slower street. One lined with small shops and pedestrians. If she was going to jump, now was her chance.

Without thinking, she opens the door and launches herself towards the sidewalk. The people around either running away or running to help her.

She vaguely remembers someone asking what happened and if they should call somone.

"Max" was the only thing she could get out before tumbling into the darkness.

~

Max rushs inside the emergency room. Lando dropped him right outside the door before trying to hunt down a parking spot.

"How can I help you?" Asks the nurse. A little startled by his sudden appearance.

'I'm looking for someone."

It didn't take long before he was being led back to where they had been keeping her.

Relief flooding through his veins when he layed eyes on her. Trying and struggling to sip water through a straw.

Her eyes went wide when she saw him. Flinging the blanket off and swinging her legs over the side like she would just walk to him.

He rushed over to her and gently laid her back down. Her pupils are blown, and her body is swaying side to side. Confusion takes hold of Max. "What happened to her?" He asks the nurse.

"She has a minor fracture in her wrist and a gash on her knee from the impact of the sidewalk. We're still running tests to see the specific drugs in her system, but we do know for sure she was drugged." The nurse explains.

Max feels his stomach lurch. "I don't understand. What happened to her?"

"My apologies, I thought the authorities had spoken to you already. I'll send them in to explain."

Max's head is reeling. The love of his life was drugged, and who knows what else. It doesn't matter what any reporter says. He's getting extra security.

Tears slip from his eyes as he holds you. "I'm sorry, love."

"Why are you sorry, Maxy? You're here." She slurs. A smile graced her lips despite the situation.

The sound of heavy boots makes Max look up. The girl on the bed is now entertaining himself with his fingers.

"Are you family?" The officer asks.

"Yeah."

"We should step outside."

Max got up from his place beside her on the bed. She looked at him, tears welling in her eyes. Struggling to comprehend what was happening.

"I'll be right back." He soothed her. Placing a kiss on the top of her head.

Max followed the officer outside and closed the door behind him.

"We have reason to believe she was kidnapped. Witnesses told us she jumped out of a moving car and then almost immediately passed out."

Max's mind went in so many directions at once. How could this have happened? How did nobody notice?

The officer opened a manilla envelope and slid out two pictures. "These are the suspects who we caught trying to get her back in the cat. Do you recognize them?"

Max's hand flew to his face. He couldn't get words out. He was about to sink to his knees before Lando came around the corner. Seeing him about to buckle and reflexivley running up to him. Lando pratically catchs the Dutchman and helps him get steady on his feet again.

Lando tries to get his bearings. He was about to ask Max what happened when he notices the officer and, more importantly, the pictures.

"Isn't that your dad, Max?" Max just shakes his head yes. Releived Lando is there to say what he's trying to.

Lando leans in closer, the officer surprised at the action and almost pulling away. He stops, however, at Lando's next words. "And isn't that Y/N's father?"

~

It didn't take them long to have the young woman discharged from the hospital. Lando driving the two home and helping check the apartment for any potential threats.

The two males could tell she was feeling awful. The doctors flushed her system with water and put a cast on the fracture. The two were exhausted.

Lando said his goodbyes and told Max to call if they needed anything. including someone to stand guard.

Max had texted everyone on the ride home that she was back safe.

A new question on his mind: What happens now? Both your fathers had been taken into custody. Mainly on the charge of kidnapping. But the officer said they could testify and get them put away for longer.

Could the two of you manage that? The side of him that wanted to make his father happy said he should go bail him out. On the other hand, the two would finally he safe. No more anxieties about awful parental figures doing unwarranted things.

Both could start to finally get the healing they deserve.

~

It took some time, but both came to the conclusion to prosecute. The day of the trail came far to quickly for you to prepare.

There was supposed to be a race this weekend, but it had been postponed until later in the evening due to many of the racers wanting to testify.

When both were found guilty, the couple started crying. The thought of being free from the awful cloud looming over them finally set in.

Nether of them could believe is was this good.

When Max won the race later, it was the most emotional either had ever been. Max let himself be proud of his achievements.

Months later, the two had begun to heal. A slow process. Both are patient and understanding with each other. Trying to communicate as much as possible. Finding outside help to help guide them.

Security at the paddock had gotten better. She never felt vulnerable. Mainly because someone was always with her, and Christian let her sit next to him during races. He'd joked, saying that you already look like you belong there, so he might as well just give you a job.

And as the two lovers lie in bed together, they reminisce. How their daddy issues brought them together.

[adorekento]

Favor — Scaramouche

NSFW ; you asked your friend to drive for you but since he won't agree, you gave him 'motivations' that you thought was enough to persuade him.

warnings ; fem reader, strong language/cursing, vulgar language, and sexual content (teasing, suggestive content, degrading, etc.)

"scara come on! you literally have nothing to do this weekend, you said so yourself!" y/n cried out as Scaramouche groaned slightly,

"exactly, but that doesn't indicate that I'll drive two fuckin' hours for your 'blind date', seriously? that's like the lamest way to ask someone out ever" he retorted back.

"ugh— please! this is my opportunity to finally go out and meet someone! perhaps even be able to commence a relationship with them and I'm not going to throw it away because of how you feel about driving an hour away from where we live, and unlike you i wanna have a life! just put up with me!" she begged, her bottom lip jutting out slightly in a pout, her puppy dog eyes making his eyes twitch slightly.

scaramouche let out an irritated huff of air, "Shut the fuck up! Why don't you just grab another ride, you bitch?"

she shook her head quickly, "Because I don't wanna pay Uber, plus if I did then they'd never get me there on time and that would stink ass and I can't deal with that." she peeked up at him, trying to keep her expression open and pleading but failed miserably and had resorted back to looking downcast. "Bullshit! get lost!"

pressing your lips together, you begin again, "I'll offer you something in return...!" you suggested as he looked at you quizzically, raising his eyebrows in question.

"I don't really want anything at the moment," he replied, not wanting to give in and approve of this whole thing only because his roommate had asked him to.

groaning, you dump your head back, scrubbing a hand down your face, a foolish concept forming in the back of your mind and when you look at him again, you're no longer grinning.

the idea you thought of is a bit risky, but who tends to care now? you were gonna attempt to do something anyway, this was an excellent chance! he'll settle if you make reasonable enough persuading points.

you sat up from the floor as he kept an eye on you seating on his mattress, "how about this... I'll let you feel my... boobs? you can even suck or squeeze on 'em..." you said bashfully, your heart hammering against your chest and blood running through your veins, oh god, please don't let this work.

you didn't hear any comeback from him so you went on, "that wasn't enough to convince you, yet? how about my pussy...?" you suggested as his gaze snapped over to yours once again,

Got it.

"It's no big of a deal, scara~ we can even do it now." you offered hopefully as you began spreading your legs,

his gaze fell between your thighs, his jaws is slightly agape.

"y/n..." he trailed off, his voice low and gruff. you sat there awkwardly, unsure if he'd say yes. you took that hesitation to press your hands against your clothed breasts and slowly slid down your body until it caught up with your core.

slowly you brought your fingers to cup your clit as you caressed your thumb across its hard nub and began gently massaging it, "Scara... make up your mind already." you prompted with a grin.

a tremble went down his spine, his mouth falling open and he felt his cock twitch beneath his pants, he hadn't realized that he'd been so preoccupied with your body and now that it was there, it seemed unbelievable to quit staring at how divine it was.

"You're just a slut, aren't you?" he uttered making you freeze for a moment, "do you do this every single time? opening your legs whenever you ask for a favor? dumb bitch, what kind of pathetic whore are you?" He spat,

"huh?! n-no! it's not like th—" before you could finalize what you were saying, it was interrupted by the sound of Scaramouche letting out a skeptical laugh,

He went towards you, stopping when he was right in front of you, and grabbed both of your legs further to remove your clothes with a grimace.

he positioned his hands on your knees and leaned in close as he ran his tongue over your exposed pussy, licking and sucking at your entrance, leaving a trail of saliva behind.

when you felt his tongue slide in between your folds you threw your head back, gasping and bucking your hips slightly against him.

"no? then you just want to be my filthy whore." he spoke, placing both of his hands over one of your thighs and squeezing it roughly which caused you to flinch slightly.

"S-Scara, i— ah..." you stuttered, unable to communicate appropriately and unable to move. his tongue made sharp work of your pussy which left you panting and clenching down onto his tongue desperately as he moved it back and forth.

"letting me lick your pussy like this won't be enough to convince me, I think you would have to let me fuck your hot tight little cunt until you cum as well."

© [ adorekento ] do not steal, repost, or translate my work.