#(oof on the leg pain hope it gets better)

[tumtorture]

A slender fairy, his body as tall as a standing rat, smelled sugar and blueberries on the air and followed the sweet scents to a cottage. He flew through an open window and saw a blueberry pie cooling on the counter.

He wasn’t particularly hungry but he loved pie—especially stolen pie. He pulled back some of the crust and dipped an arm in. It tasted as delicious as it had smelled. He ate blueberries by the armfuls until his stomach began to feel heavy. The pie was too good to stop eating now. Who knew when he would get this chance again?

He continued to stuff his face, trying the lattice-work crust and deciding it was the best crust he had ever tasted. After a little while, a ripple of pain shivered through his now tightly-swollen tummy. He burped and rubbed his grumbling stomach, smearing a circle of blue goo around his bellybutton. His big, overfilled belly throbbed painfully. Rubbing didn’t help at all. In fact, it rather hurt.

“Oohh,” said the fairy. “I have a bad tummy ache.”

He decided he needed to go to his toadstool home and lie down until he felt better. He flapped his wings and barely lifted off the ground. Then he fell right back down, falling in a heap and jarring his belly on the countertop, knocking the wind out of him. He grabbed his aching stomach and hugged it hoping the pain would subside. It didn’t. It only throbbed worse from hitting the counter. A loud moan escaped him.

He didn’t understand why his wings didn’t work. He took a look at his achy belly, and the mystery was solved. It was huge! It jutted out from his lithe frame—a large, swollen mass. He looked like he had swallowed a whole walnut.

He groaned and rubbed his poor tummy. At least no one could see him like this.

The creak of hinges announced someone entering the cottage. The fairy tried to hide behind a large jar of jam, but his stomach was too big. He ran for a potted ivy, but he tripped and landed flat on his heavy, swollen belly. He rolled over, his face squenched up with suffering, hugging his stomach with both arms. A glass, like a round prison, fell over him.

“Ah-ha!” said a man with a long gray beard. “I’ve caught a thief!”

“Please,” said the fairy, “put me out in your garden. I’ll trouble you no more. I promise.” He winced at a particularly bad cramp. “Please, sir, I have a terrible tummy ache.”

The man put his head close to the glass. “That’s certainly a big, fat tummy.” He lifted the glass.

“Thank you. I have quite the tummy ache. If I just go—“

The man plucked the fairy up by his plump belly. The fairy screamed. The man’s big fingers rubbed the fairy’s distended stomach between them, back and forth.

Waves of pain crashed through the fairy’s stomach. Lights dazzled his eyes. “Oohh! My tummy! Stop! Please, stop!”

The man grinned. He pushed the fairy’s back against the wall. He uttered words the fairy recognized as magic but didn’t understand. His arms and legs splayed to the sides. Vines grew from within the wall and lashed around his wrists and ankles. Another wrapped around his throat. It wasn’t as tight as the other bonds, but it kept him posed upright. In the middle of it all, hung his engorged stomach.

Terror overtook the fairy. He squirmed against his bonds, but they held him fast. “Let me go!”

The man, apparently a wizard, chuckled. “I don’t like thieves. Or fairies, for that matter.”

He poked his big pointer finger in the fairy’s bellybutton. It felt like a punch in the gut. “Oof!” Pain rocked through the fairy’s belly. It shook in rippling waves of torture long after the finger disappeared. All he wanted to do was hold his achy stomach, but he couldn’t move.

The man thumped him right in his bellybutton. “Ungh!” The fairy moaned. He felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. “My tummy,” he managed breathlessly. If only he could curl into a ball and cradle his poor tummy.

“Awww. Do you have a stomach ache?”

The fairy whimpered. “Y-yes.”

“Oh. Well, you know what’s good for that? Blueberry pie!”

The fairy looked at the wizard in horror. “No. I can’t eat anymore.”

“If you eat until I tell you to stop, I’ll let you go. If you don’t, I’ll slap you between my hands and feed you to my hog.”

Tears welled in the fairy’s eyes. “I’ll eat,” he promised.

The wizard spooned a bite of pie into his mouth. The spoon was too big for him, so some of it stuck to his face. He ate as best he could. Forcing it down. Trying not to think about how full he already was.

The wizard whispered a spell—words the fairy didn’t recognize. A hunger took hold of him. He gobbled the pie from the spoon, licking his lips whenever the wizard pulled the spoon away to gather more.

Despite his ferocious hunger, his stomach ached and ached. He could barely stand it. His taut stomach’s skin pulled tighter and tighter as his belly swelled. Tremors of pain roiled through his overburdened guts.

“No,” he managed weakly. “My tummy can’t take anymore.” The pain finally outmatched his hunger.

The wizard pursed his lips. He mashed his pointer finger into the fairy’s hard stomach, denting it slightly. The fairy cried out in pain. The wizard gave a small harumph. “Looks like there’s more room to me.”

The fairy, despite his ravenous hunger, began to cry. His stomach hurt so much. He had never had such a terrible tummy ache in his life.

As he ate more and more, his stomach expanded further. It groaned and strained to digest all of the food. Each bite became more of a struggle. His stomach felt so heavy. His skin stretched tight around his distended belly. It wobbled painfully as he struggled to swallow.

The wizard pulled the spoon away and flicked his belly. A massive explosion of pain pulled a groan from deep inside the fairy. “Ungh.”His full stomach swung back and forth, sloshing. The fairy moaned in agony.

The wizard grinned. “Who knew something so small could get so big.”

When the fairy looked down at his stomach, it was unrecognizable. It looked like he had swallowed a chicken egg. It was bigger than the whole rest of his thin little body. A blueberry circle, like a target, marked the center, but there were also bright bruises where the wizard had picked him up. The dark marks around the blueberry stain were also bruises. A red blush revealed where the wizard had just flicked him. No wonder he hurt so much. His poor stomach was so traumatized.

The wizard cast another spell, and the hunger left the fairy. Now there was nothing left but pain. The wizard grabbed the fairy’s abused belly as if he were plucking a plum and said a spell that made the vines disappear. The fairy’s head swam, dizzy with pain.

The wizard carried the fairy to the counter and plopped him down on it. Immediately, the fairy curled up, as best as he could, around his distended, aching stomach. He held it, his hands unable to meet, unable to rub the throbbing middle of his huge belly. He moaned and rolled from side to side. “My tummy. Oohh. My tummy.”

The wizard laughed. “I think I’ll keep you here a while, maybe a few days, maybe a few weeks. I’m going to give you a bad tummy ache every day. Maybe then you’ll never steal again.” As the fairy whimpered, the wizard jabbed his exposed bellybutton with two fingers. His fingertips not only struck the fairy in his bellybutton, but above and below it, hitting the generous curve of the fairy’s belly.

The blow increased the suffering of that achy tummy, causing the fairy’s eyes to bulge with the intensity of his pain. Air puffed through his rounded lips. Lights flashed before his eyes. Darkness embraced him as he lost consciousness, the grumbling of his abused stomach following him into the dark.

[1800bitchcraft]

more dom-reader?

A/N: Yes!! So excited for this, I have way more fun than I should writing dom!reader tbh. Also thought this would be a good opportunity to write more vampire!reader and I threw in a little primal play for good measure! Anon, I hope you don't mind! If, of course, this isn't to your liking I'd be more than happy to write you something different! Don't be afraid to reach out, lovely! I hope you enjoy either way~

CW: sub!Ford, dom!reader, vampire!reader, monsterfucking, blood drinking, pinning, marking, strength kink, blood play, mild pain play, primal play, edging, orgasm denial, whiny Ford, desperate Ford, nipple play, begging, aphrodisiacs, dirty talk, mild degradation, praise, hand jobs, overstim, kind of chasing??, there's a small amount of running

!!! MDNI OR ILL GET THE BROOM !!!

Smut under the cut!

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

Your incredulous tone matched the shock written out on your features as you turned your head to stare at Ford. Ford, who was resolutely not looking at you, instead staring rather intently at the open book in his lap but you knew he wasn't reading any of it. The blush you so adored was making it's appearance, crawling across his cheeks and you could hear the rapid thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat.

"...you heard me," he mumbled. He was clearly embarrassed and you softened your expression. Standing from where you'd been perched at your vanity, engaging in your usual before-bed ritual, you crossed over to the bed. Standing at the foot of it, you lifted a knee, placing it on the bed and using that to leverage yourself. You crawled over the comforter, pleased when he immediately spread his legs to accommodate you.

"I did," you admitted, tone soft and gentle. He shivered when you slid a hand up his leg, starting at his ankle. "But, I want to make sure I heard you correctly." He still wasn't looking at you, but you heard his breath hitch when your other hand came to rest on his inner thigh, nails scratching lightly over his skin. You waited until his eyes flitted to yours, finding your expression open and eyes darkening with desire. "Humor me, darling. Please?" You murmured, and he swallowed. You fought against the smile, trying to pull at your lips when he looked away again, flush beginning to crawl down his throat.

"I-" His breath hitched again, nerves making his belly flutter as he tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He felt spread open, pinned beneath your gaze. Vulnerable. And even though he knew you'd never make fun of him for anything, it was hard not to feel embarrassed by admitting his less than conventional desires so openly. "I want you... to... ch-chase me- oof!" His breath left him in a grunt as suddenly your hands gripped him behind the knees and pulled. Yanking him from his reclined position on the bed to lie flat on his back, your weight settling over his hips as you pinned him beneath you. He couldn't have escaped if he wanted to, your preternatural strength keeping him captive. It made his heart rate, heat suffusing his veins and making him squirm. You grinned, sharpened fangs glinting as your slitted pupils dilated, expanding like a creature on the hunt.

"Do you want me to chase you or..." You trailed off, leaning closer just to hear the way his breath quickened, heart thudding rapidly in his chest. It made the predator in you roll and roil, wanting to sink your teeth in and mark him. Claim him in the most primal way. "Do you want me to catch you?" Your lips were at his ear, and you were pleased when his head shifted, baring his throat before he could think better of it.

"Yes," he said in a rush, voice breathless and choked by desire. "I want it, want both, want it all." Your chest rumbled with a pleased purr, and Ford arched into you, seeking out the press of your fangs when you let them graze his skin.

"You know I would deny you nothing," you murmured softly and the boundless love Ford felt for you warmed his chest. Your thumbs stroked along the insides of his wrists where you held them, pinned to the bed in your hands. "But I worry you don't really know what you're asking of me." Ford began to protest, wanting to insist that he was a grown man, thank you, and though you had many, many years over on him he was more than capable of knowing what he wanted, goddamnit. He was silenced, though, by his own instinctual whine when you nipped gently at his throat. The points of your double fangs catching his skin.

"Hush, puppy," you murmured, voice fond and teasing. You knew the face he was making would be equal parts flustered and indignant from the rarely-used nickname. You wanted to look him in the eyes, needing to see his face for the conversation, but you were loathe to leave the soothing cloak of his scent that enveloped you. You nuzzled at his throat, placing a kiss against his racing pulse before you finally pulled away, looking down at him as you sat over his hips.

"I only mean that you have a habit of asking questions but not the right ones." Your voice was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness that caught his attention. He kept his eyes on you, even as you lifted a hand to cup his cheek, and he turned his face into the touch. You smiled, wholly in love with the beautiful man beneath you, and stroked a thumb across the top of his cheekbone. "Have you really thought all the way through this request of yours?" You arched a brow, considering how best to word this. "I think sometimes you forget I'm not human anymore. Haven't been for a long time. This... act I put on is just that, an act. If you run, I'll chase you. If you hide, I'll find you. I... can't promise I'll be gentle when I do. Or that there will be any stopping me if you decide it's too much. At least, not with our usual ways when we play." Ford swallowed thickly. He had considered that, of course, but hearing you say it, admit to what he could have only guessed at, brought it all into stark, startling clarity. You watched him, watching you. Saw him consider the weight of your words before his gaze flickered back to yours and held it, lips parting.

"I'm okay with that," he said, voice unwavering and strong in its conviction. Your belly fluttered, anticipation turning your blood hot in your veins. You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off, forging onwards. "I'm well aware of your nature, and that's part of why I want this. I want... to experience you, all of you." He turned his head to press a kiss to your palm, and you swallowed, a shaky smile on your lips.

"And the other part?" You asked once you were sure your voice wouldn't tremble. Ford blushed, biting at his lower lip, and you could smell the shift in his scent. The way desire made it sweeter, thick, and cloying on your tongue. He nuzzled at your palm, looking at you with hooded eyes.

"I want to feel you, all of you," he murmured softly. Want laced his low voice, and you shivered atop him when large palms came to rest on your knees. Sliding up your bare thighs, feeling your soft skin beneath his touch. "I want you to hurt me, to hunt me. I-" He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry as your eyes darkened, tracked his every twitch and movement. "I want to know what you're like when you lose control. You're always so careful, even when you tie me up and make me beg. Is it so wrong for me to want to know what it's like when you're not?" Your hand shifted, thumb moving down to trace over his lower lip, and he nipped lightly at it, flashing you an impish smile. You were quiet for a few, long moments, and the nerves in Ford's belly rioted every second. He was grateful when you finally broke the silence.

"We'll be having a more in-depth discussion about this before we do anything," you said finally, carefully. Ford nodded, eagerness tightening his throat. "I'm serious, Ford. I'm not leaving anything to chance; the last thing I want to do is hurt you in a way you don't want." His hands flexed, squeezing lightly at your thighs. He nodded, eyes bright.

"Of course, I wouldn't expect anything less." You chuckled softly, shifting to allow him space when he sat up suddenly, crowding into your space. He hummed softly in pleasure when you held his face in your hands. The slight chill of your skin sending a shiver up his spine. "Kiss me?" He asked and you were all too happy to oblige, deciding the necessary conversations could wait for now.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Ford's breath came out in soft, short pants. His heart pounded in his chest, anticipation crawling up his spine and making his skin prickle. Around him, the woods were silent, save for the usual noise and chatter of the more nocturnal creatures that called it home. The air was warm, a light breeze blowing through and making him shiver. He felt the unmistakable sensation of being watched, knowing you were hiding somewhere nearby, silent and deadly. But, unlike the paranoia and fear this would normally instill in him had it been anyone else, he only felt anticipation and desire churning hot and heavy in his belly.

"I'd start moving if I were you," your voice, low and heavy, interrupted his thoughts and the relative quiet of his surroundings. He whirled around, turning a big circle as his eyes scanned the tree and darkness. He couldn't see you, however. Wherever you were, you intended on staying hidden from him a little longer. His eyes darted left, in the direction of where he knew your house was waiting, tucked amongst the trees. You chuckled, and the sound reverberated through him.

"If you're going to run, I'd do it now, darling. I'm afraid I don't know how much longer I can hold back; I can taste your desperation," the word trailed into a low, near feral growl, and Ford broke out into a run. Your laughter seemed to follow him, taunting him, and it only made the heat in his belly grow hotter. You'd fed before your little game, and the aphrodisiac of your venom was starting to burn through him, making his knees feel weak and sweat dampen his forehead and the back of his neck. He could've sobbed with relief when your cabin finally came into view.

He had just managed to shimmy in through a low open window when he felt you. Almost as if you'd materialized out of thin air. He felt your hand, skin warm with the blood you'd taken from him only an hour before, as your fingers curled around his ankle. He fell back to the ground with a soft oof and a dull thud. The impact of his knees hitting the hardwood flooring of your cabin might've hurt if a dull, throbbing need hadn't begun to settle just under his skin. Rising to the surface and heating him from the inside out at the first touch of your hand on him. Your other hand planted itself between his shoulders, shoving him to the ground. Your knees settled behind his, pinning his legs, as you gathered his wrists in either hand. Stretching them over his head and pinning them, too. Your claws pricked at his hypersensitive skin, and the moan he let out was shameful, though he couldn't find it in himself to be ashamed. He pressed back eagerly into the cloak of your warmth when you settled your front against his back, and he blushed to realize you were practically mounting him right there on your living room floor. That thought was quickly wiped from his mind, however, when you planted your face in the curve of his neck, inhaling deeply and rumbling a low, pleased growl.

"Look what I've caught," your every word was tinged with a growl and your voice was thick, like you were having trouble talking. It wasn't until you dragged your mouth along his skin that he realized why; your fangs had grown well past what he was used to seeing when you fed from him. So much so it felt like they were crowding out of your mouth, poking past plump lips and scraping across the skin of his neck. He shuddered beneath you, pressing back into you on instinct. A gasping whine ripped itself from his throat as suddenly the heat that had been just a low simmer beneath his skin melted into a blazing fire, like it had been waiting for your touch.

"Such a sweet little treat and so desperate, too." You nuzzled at his neck, fangs catching and making him whimper. His cock, which had been half hard since the start, was now rigid and dripping down his thigh. You released his wrists with a low growl of stay, and Ford nodded, eyes fluttering and rolling back as you dragged your hand down over his skin, still frustratingly clothed.

"H-Hot, s'too hot, please," he moaned, gasping as his thoughts were clouded by a thick haze of desperate need. The noise you let out was pleased, and his hips bucked when your seeking, searching hands slid under his shirt, finally touching bare skin.

"So pretty like this," you sighed against his ear. "So desperate; just a needy little toy, aching to be played with." Your words stoked the fire in his veins, arousal burning through him. Your hands groped along his belly, the soft fuzz of his happy trail, and up towards his chest. Wicked fingers found sensitive nipples and he whined, jerking and arching forwards into your touch, filling your clawed hands with the meat of his chest and you squeezed appreciatively.

"Oh, oh fuck," he gasped out. He writhed beneath you, nerves sparking with pleasure as you teased and toyed with his nipples. You shushed him gently, a soft coo leaving your lips.

"Shhh puppy, don't fight it. Be a good little toy, and let me play with you." Your voice wormed its way through the sticky molasses of his thoughts, and he clung to it, a lifeline amidst the dualing sensations washing through him. His body obeyed before his brain could catch up, and his overzealous squirming beneath you ceased. You rumbled a purr in your chest and licked at the throbbing of his pulse in his throat.

"So good for me," you cooed and the praise was almost like a physical caress, making him shudder and moan. "Love you like this; all pliant and desperate, bet I could make you cum just like this." He throbbed where he was trapped behind his zipper, hips bucking into nothing with a pitiful whimper of your name. You could smell his desperation, so thick you could almost taste it, and it made you ravenous. Made the incessant chanting of your instincts louder, a dull roar of fuck, claim, mate, mine, mine, mine.

"Yours. Yours, all- fuck, all yours, please," he was panting the words, lips hung open and almost drooling. The need coiling at the base of his spine ready to snap but unable to, not without you. You squeezed roughly at his nipples in a sharp pinch, soothing the sting with your thumbs, and he sobbed. "Please! Please please please darling, mistress, wanna cum, want- wanna be good for you, please please let me cum." You moaned, gritting your teeth against the sudden urge to bite, to mark him as deeply as he'd marked you. You trailed a hand down, not giving Ford a single moment to mourn the loss of stimulation before you were cupping long, slender fingers around the shape of him through his trousers.

"Fuck!" His hips jerked into your hand and he sobbed your name, desperation clawing at his throat. You let him buck and grind into your hand, simply holding it there and squeezing around him. He tipped his head back against your shoulder, throat bared to you completely, and you were helpless to resist the siren call of it. Not like this, not when you were so lost to your baser instincts already. Ford lifted a shaky hand, threading it through your hair and tugging you to plant your face firmly in the curve of his throat.

"Bite me," he begged, breathless. "Bite me, please, please bite me, mark me, claim me. I need - I need to be yours, please, please, mistress." You couldn't stop the snarl that ripped out of you, and it only seemed to spur Ford on. Your beautiful, perfect Ford. How could you deny him anything? You couldn't, really. He had barely a moment to think when he felt the prick of your fangs, and then they were sliding in. Cutting through skin and muscle like butter, flooding his veins with your venom. The keening, desperate cry caught in his throat as his hips bucked and grinded into your hand and he was cumming. His orgasm tearing through him so forcefully it left him dizzy. You growled against his throat, jaw clamping tighter as his blood seemed to turn sweeter in your mouth. You drank him down in heavy, greedy gulps, hand idly squeezing at his still hard cock just to hear him whimper.

When you released him, tongue laving over the mark left behind until the blood clotted and the wound started to close, you slid your hand up to splay over his belly. You stayed like that for a moment, both of your panting as the desperate, clawing need seemed to subside for the time being. Though it stayed a low, steady thrum in your heads and veins. Ford was the first to crack, breath coming faster as the heat began to build again, encouraged by the new flood of venom through his system.

"Let me- I want to see you, please?" He asked, voice soft and slightly cautious, unsure of how you'd react. You paused, hesitating.

"I'm not- I don't look... the same," you said haltingly, unsure how to prepare him for the way you looked now that you had dropped your usual glamours, unable to keep them up as you tapped into your more primal instincts. Ford huffed, and you thought you could almost hear him rolling his eyes.

"Really, I had no idea," he deadpanned, and you nipped at his ear in retaliation for his cheek. You nuzzled at his throat, feeling the mark your teeth had left behind when you'd bitten him.

"It might scar." You murmured, only just now realizing. He hummed in acknowledgement.

"Good. I want it to." He huffed a laugh when you rumbled a low, pleased purr despite yourself. You lapsed into silence once more, seemingly content to nuzzle and lick and kiss over his throat as you let the heat build up once more, slower this time. Ford allowed you to avoid his request for a few moments longer before he spoke up again, voice gentle.

"Darling, please? For me?" You paused again, the heaved a long-suffering sigh. He had barely a moment to bask in his success before you were pressing him gently to the floor, shifting back and your weight up to allow him to turn over. You straddled his hips then, and his hands came up to rest on your thighs, reminiscent of the night he'd first brought this up.

"Look at me. Please?" He lifted a hand and held it up, halfway to cupping your cheek, letting you close the rest of the distance. After a brief hesitation, you did, leaning forwards and into the press of his palm. You looked down at him through lidded eyes, and Ford's heart thudded in his chest.

Your fangs weren't quite as large as they'd first felt, though definitely larger than usual. He could see the sharp tips, then at least half an inch more, before they disappeared back behind your lips. Your secondary pair glinted slightly in the low light, tips just barely visible where, normally, he wouldn't be able to see them at all. His blood was smeared over your mouth, giving your full lips a flushed, deep red color. Your ears were longer, larger, and he vaguely thought they resembled something of a bats, but he couldn't be sure as they were largely hidden by your hair. Everything about you seemed... sharper, wilder. More dangerous, but no less alluring. Perhaps most striking was your eyes. They glowed stronger than he'd ever seen them, seemingly lit from within. The whites of your eyes had gone black, and your pupils were slowly returning to the thin slits he normally saw.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, and you might have scoffed. You might have brushed off the compliment and reverent tone of his voice if you couldn't see in his eyes how true they were. Your heart swelled with love for this beautifully strange man beneath you. He curled his fingers around the back of your neck, threading through your hair, and tugged you gently towards him. "Kiss me? Please?" You sighed and leaned down, letting him guide you where he wanted you.

You took your time learning how to kiss him like this, and it felt like the first few months of your relationship all over again. How nervous you both had been, though, for different reasons. You enjoyed the slower pace. You liked that you got to savor each other, let the heat build slowly. It was when you slid your tongue into his mouth, and he felt the long split through the middle, that the low, simmering heat in his veins kicked up, and he whined into the kiss. His hands gripped roughly at your hips, and you rocked yourself down, grinding against where you could feel him, throbbing and hard against you. You wound a hand through his hair and wrenched his head back so you could look at him, gratified by the flush on his cheeks and the way his mouth hung open, panting.

"Awww, look at you~ haven't had enough yet?" Your voice was edged with a low, rumbling quality like a growl. It made him moan, cock twitching where it sat, still sticky with cum, in his boxers.

"Never." He murmured breathlessly. Mesmerized by the feral grace you exuded. The next few moments passed by in a blur, punctuated by flashes of sensation. The cool warmth of your hands on his skin as you divested him of his shirt. The feeling of the hardwood against his back as you pinned him, pressing bodily against him just to shove your tongue down his throat. The way every part of him started to ache and burn with the sweetest pain the longer he went without your hands, your mouth, or, oh god, your cunt. He could feel you, wet and soaking the gusset of your panties as you rocked against him, long skirt hiked up to your hips before it was gone, too. When your clothes lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, both of you naked as you could be, he seemed to come back to himself. Aided by the sight of you between his legs, wicked grin curling your otherworldly features as you ran a long, split tongue over the curve of his cock, tasting him.

"Fuck!" He shouted, hips flexing against the hold you had on them, though he was no match for your strength. His hands scrabbled uselessly at the floor beneath him, heaving out soft, gasping breaths. "Fuck fuck fuck, darling- darling, please," he sobbed, high and breathy. You hummed softly and wrapped your lips around his dripping tip. Mindful of your fangs, you hollowed your cheeks, tongue flicking at the sensitive spot just under the head that had his toes curling. He fell back on his forearms, head dropping and baring his throat, bringing the bite mark on the curve of his neck out in stark relief. "Darling, I- darling, I can't, I can't- please," he huffed, voice edged with a whine.

"You can," you rumbled lowly, already knowing what he was whining for and wrapping your fingers around the base of him tightly. Squeezing, cutting off the orgasm threatening his sanity as he sobbed above you. "And you will. I want you crying with how badly you need it, and I won't settle for less." And with that, you set back to your task, lapping at the precum beading along his slit.

Ford moaned above you, sagging back against the floor. He knew there was no dissuading you. He'd seen that feral little glimmer in your eye enough times to know that. And you always kept an ear out for the safeword, but it never came. Only his desperate moans and whines of your name, pleas for your touch. You used the flexibility of your tongue to your advantage, widening your jaw to allow the split muscles to wrap around the shaft of his cock as you kept your lips around the head. Ford jerked under you, unable to get far with you, pinning his hips. But you felt his muscles tense and bunch beneath your touch. He brought his hands down to tangle in your hair, and you hummed around him, pleased. You brought him to the edge and back, over and over, just like this. You didn't have to wait long for him to break.

"Fuck, fuck please darling, please please I need it, need you now, I- I can't-" he cut himself off with a desperate sob, and you glanced up at him through your lashes. The sight of him was breathtaking. Cheeks red, eyes dazed and glossy with tears as his mouth hung open, moans pouring out freely. It pleased you in a vicious, primal way. You pulled off of him with an obscene pop! All but prowling your way back over him, until you were able to slot your dripping cunt over his cock. His hand immediately went to your hips, squeezing and moaning.

"Darling, please," he panted, then groaned when you rolled your hips. A moan pagted your own, and, like that one noise had broken the floodgates, you couldn't stop more from pouring out. You kept up your steady rocking, unable to stop as the desperate, clawing need you felt for him built higher and higher. He sat up abruptly, one hand supporting himself and the other wrapped around your neck, tugging you forward as his knees came up to support your back, giving you further leverage. "I need to be inside you like I need to breathe, fuck, please. Please, I- shit, I can feel how fucking wet you are, let me take care of you? Please? Use me, use me however you need to, I'm yours." He panted the words against your open mouth and you could taste the desperation in them.

Nodding, unable to find your voice, you lifted yourself up on your knees. Taking him in hand, you lined him at your entrance and sank down in one smooth glide to the hilt. You moaned in unison, and Ford pressed forward until he had you beneath him. Your knees hooked over his shoulder as he pressed down, down, down into a filthy mating press, and waited. You flashed a filthy, fanged grin. Even now, when he had you pinned beneath him and your needy cunt clenching around him, he knew who was in charge.

"Well? What're you waiting for? Be a good puppy and breed me."

[kingkat12]

Would you ever write some mean!dom!Roman? Maybe where the reader uses a safe word and his whole demeanour softens 🥹 would be so cute!

mean dom Roman... as in the plain old Roman we all know and love? ahahah hell to the YES??? thank u so much for ur request, I loved writing this sm!! hope u like it hihi

safe word (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, quite rough sex (gets better dw), foul language, humiliation kink ish?, cum-play, he's so mean oof

summary: sex with Roman can be pure heaven, but it can sometimes feel like he wants to put you through hell... has hell ever felt so good?

word count: 2,276

"I-- I can't keep going," I held Roman close to me, letting out a small yelp against his neck as my hips moved away from his, aching and overstimulated. 

Something was a little different about him today-- Roman usually gave me time to adjust to his length before completely ravaging me like this, but tonight was different. I had an inkling that it turned him on to hear me whimper beneath him like this, that he couldn't help but enjoy the way my walls fluttered around him in a mix of exhaustion and desperation. 

"Aw," Roman breathed, his hand in my hair tightening as he spoke against my ear; "Too bad. Don't care."

I let out a small cry, my nails digging into his broad back. I knew I had a habit of getting overstimulated rather quickly, but I swore that something was different, I was sure of it-- was it maybe the fact that we had a little fight this morning? Did Roman need to take his frustration out on me like this? There wasn't any time to think about it, but there was one thing I could be sure of; and that was that Roman loved pushing me beyond the point of tears, and loved the way my eyes glossed over as they met his, looking like a complete and utter mess.

I spotted his growing smirk before he leaned down to kiss my neck, and I couldn't help but whimper at the force he was slamming his hips into mine. My broken noises didn't get any softer when my warmth swallowed him completely, feeling his cock go deep to the hilt. "Rome--" I let my head roll back down against my pillow, my legs wrapping around him as he continued his harsh thrusts. I knew he was being too rough with me, but the feeling of being pounded like this nearly turned me mute.

And weirdly enough, a part of me enjoyed it. Knowing that Roman had this power over me, the ability to make me feel nothing but engulfed by him, somehow made the pain subside into a darker pleasure than I was used to. Something about it felt... satisfactory.

Roman gripped my waist, nipping at my jaw as he let out a laboured grunt. I squeezed my eyes shut, crying out at the multiple sensations coursing through my veins as he murmured pure filth against my skin. 

"Act like a brat and I'll treat you like a brat," Roman purred, biting down on my earlobe-- something told me he was enjoying himself a little extra tonight. 

"Am not," was all I managed to say, whimpering as he continuously drove himself deep into me. 

This was seemingly not the right thing to say-- Roman wasted no time roughly grabbing my cheeks in one hand, my lips parting as I stared up at him with eyes full of tears. "I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, an apparent sadistic smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

I knew I would be in big trouble if I didn't stop going against him. "Sorry," My legs gave in to a quiver, wrapping around him even tighter as he let go of my cheeks. "Rome, please--" I didn't have time to finish my plea, letting out a loud whimper as he brought his hand down to press his palm against my lower abdomen, feeling himself rut into me. Roman let out a low, sinister laugh, clearly in awe at the sensation; I wanted nothing more than to hit him. But still, like a slave to the pleasure, I dug my nails further into his back instead, earning a rather lewd moan from him which usually was a rarity.

Roman's arms wrapped around my waist, moving me against him; despite how harsh he was being with me, I could at least find comfort in the closeness. My hard nipples brushed up against his chest, his lips pressing heated kisses against my body and mouth. Oh, the way he was holding me with complete and utter need-- if he hadn't been so harsh, I would've been floating around on cloud nine. "Please, Rome-- I really can't," 

With a grunt, Roman pulled his cock out only till the tip was left. I let out a sigh of relief; I had hope that he would maybe pull out, maybe take it easy on me, pity me, but I should've known better. It didn't take long before Roman drove himself back into me, my walls clenching around him as I cried out, hearing him let out a satisfied moan against my ear which had me shivering.  "What was that?" he hummed, his grip around my waist tightening, almost as a warning. An ominous laugh escaped him, the green of his eyes practically engulfing me as he spoke; "Oh, baby, look at you... Are you crying? You asked for it, you know that, right?"

I could only whimper, a wave of oddly satisfactory defeat washing over me. Something about the way he was taunting me was making my stomach flutter. It felt as though I was completely submerged in everything Roman--  the dizzying scent of his cologne that I inhaled through my nose, his lips against my mouth and throat every so often, and his tongue against mine. It eventually became hard to breathe, and my eyes glossed over once more as Roman's thrusts grew rougher, taking more liberties than he would usually dare to. 

"Try that again," he said, urging me on. It was obvious that Roman knew what I was trying to say, but he was being particularly mean today.

"I can't--" My words came out along with another cry, gripping onto him the same way he was gripping onto me. It felt as though today's session served as a reminder more than anything else; that I was his, no matter what, and that he would do as he pleased with me. Roman's rough thrusts grounded me, wordlessly telling me I belonged to him, and it made me feel as though he was diminishing my self-worth with every pump of his cock. It was starting to feel too rough, too raw; "Shit, wait, Rome--" I barely managed to get anything out without a stutter, burying my face against the bare skin of his broad shoulders.

Roman let out a laugh; "Aw, is someone getting sore?" 

I could only whimper as he dug himself into me repeatedly, my whole body aching, my hips squirming away from him again-- Roman responded by grabbing me rather harshly, holding me down. I knew he wasn't going to let me go without a proper fight, without me saying the word, and that made more tears pool in my eyes.

"A-Aah--" My hands flew down to grab the ones he had on my waist, arching my back against the bed as my body started to reject his thrusts. I felt myself squirm, groaning in a mix of pleasure and pain-- I knew that I had to go for my last resort, despite never having had use for it before. "Red!" I cried out, my nails digging into his skin, a sob building in my chest.

In an instant, Roman froze up, his grip around my body lifting within a second. He propped himself up on his elbows as his widening eyes met mine-- it seemed he had only now registered what he was truly doing to me. "Sorry," he tried, reaching for my face with wary movements, shifting on the bed. "Too much?"

Sniffling, a single tear rolled down my face as I nodded, leaving behind a wet spot on my pillow.

"Fuck, look at you," Roman whispered, gently grabbing at my jaw, hoping to ground me. "Your heart is beating so fast... Should I pull out?"

I let out a shaky breath, holding back any other tears. I had never actually had to use the safeword before, and this whole experience was beyond dizzying. How could Roman go from being someone so mean, callous, rough, and then suddenly go back to normal?

"Hey, talk to me," Roman's thumb stroked my cheek, another attempt at bringing me back. "What can I do for you?" 

Amid my daze, I was made aware of his cock still being inside me when it jerked upwards, throbbing involuntarily against my fluttering walls. Roman hissed, clearly conflicted between the feeling of pleasure and embarrassment; "Shit, sorry... It has a life of its own," 

Something about that made me giggle through my tears, a breathy laugh building in my chest. Seeing Roman like this, clearly out of his rough and mean state, made me ease up. The feeling of arousal was still coursing through my veins, burning in the tips of my fingers, aching between my legs-- I wasn't quite ready to stop. "If you promise to be gentle... I'd like to continue,"

With a relieved sigh, Roman leaned forward to press a sweet kiss against my forehead. "Of course," he whispered, nudging his nose against mine, his breath hot against my lips. "Let me make it up to you, hm?"

"Sounds good," I breathed, meeting his lips in a soft and open kiss, coming together like missing pieces of a puzzle, completely different from the way we had been kissing a minute ago. This felt so much better-- we were connected as one.

Roman pulled out of me, making sure to be careful. He grabbed my tear-stained pillow, placing it beneath my hips as he sat himself up on his knees. "I'll go easy on you, kid," he murmured, his thumb moving down to my clit, gathering my slick so that he could rub small, tight circles around it. "Gonna make you feel real good, okay?"

I let out a soft moan, my chest fluttering with warmth at his gentle touches. My eyes rounded out, meeting his with a newfound satisfaction and love. 

Roman gripped himself with his free hand, rubbing his tip against my aching sex, a grunt slipping past his kiss-swollen lips as he slid back into me, the wet sound of our reunion making goosebumps appear along my skin. This time, he made sure not to go all the way into me, finally giving me time to adjust to his length. 

Roman's thumb was still circling my clit with a toe-curling pressure as he found a nice, steady rhythm to keep at. From this position, I could watch as his usually styled hair fell in front of his green eyes, kissing his forehead as his lips parted in pleasure-- it was impossible to take my eyes off of him. 

Roman's gaze was glued to the image before him, letting out a shaky groan as his fingers went up and down my stomach, taking in the view. During moments like these, I really felt like the most beautiful creature on earth; what other explanation could there be for how he was looking at me right now? 

It didn't take long before I started to feel close-- we had been going on for so long that the softness of his demeanour had me closer to my climax much quicker than usual. Luckily, Roman knew me well enough to see the signs, recognizing the way my back arched, the way my hands reached for his. He intertwined our fingers with his free hand; "I have half the mind to keep you on the edge," he purred, a smirk reappearing on his lips.

I let out a broken whimper; "Please,"

"Please what?"

"Be nice," 

Roman chuckled, nodding to himself as he retreated his teases. He let go of my fingers to grab my hips, letting out a groan as my walls tightened around him; "Shit-- Okay, okay,"

Oh, I was so crazy about him. So, so in awe of Roman and everything that followed. Love-drunk words slipped past his lips as his thrusts pressed up against that special spot inside me, simultaneously keeping the tight pressure around my swollen clit, making me mewl out in desperation; "Close, fuck!--"

Roman let out a soft laugh as my fingers gripped his arm, digging into his skin as I clamped around him, wordlessly begging for my release. My heart pounded in my ears as he gave a few final thrusts, fucking me right into my orgasm; I writhed beneath him, a moaning mess, feeling satiated and complete. I bucked up against his hand, the post-coital overstimulation hitting me like a hard wave, letting out a few broken whimpers and silent pleas. 

It didn't take a lot of begging for Roman's cock to twitch with his orgasm, and he pulled out with haste, letting out a string of soft grunts as ropes of cum decorated my stomach. 

As our heavy breathing and panting filled the room, I reached out for Roman, who in turn lied down next to me, pressing a kiss against my cheek. I let out a relieved giggle, turning to connect our lips in a lazy, sweet kiss that had my whole body fluttering with warmth. Watching as Roman closed his eyes, sighing in exhaustion, my attention turned to the mess he had made on my stomach. 

My hand dipped down into the pool of cum forming on my lower abdomen, coaxing my finger with a sly smirk; I brought it up to his lips, leaving a streak of the slick on his lip.

Normally, Roman would wipe it off with a grimace and eventually laugh it off. 

However, today was different-- I had known it from the start. Roman leaned forward with a cheeky smirk, lazily connecting our lips, the taste of his cum lingering on my tongue throughout the remainder of the night.

I was sure he'd never admit to finding that hot, but I knew it. I was more sure of that than anything else.

[skippingstonez]

in The Minish Cap at the beginning during the festival if you interact with a specific woman she says 'they say the Minish bring happiness...I wonder when they will bring me mine'

Inspired by that, can I request that you write something about Four comforting Reader or lifting their spirits?

So I uhh, think I may have gone a bit hard on this one cause oof the beginning...it's rough. That being said Four is very comforting so just know it gets better! (Also, I'm apologizing to Wars now for making him the 'bad guy')

Unexpected Happiness

(Four x Reader) Chapter 1 / Next Warnings: Depressive thoughts, suicidal ideation (? I think that's the right term, correct me if I'm wrong)

There was a crack, then a cry as the ground gave way from underneath you. 

A moment of weightlessness before you collided into dirt and stone. Skidding down the walls of the dark tunnel before coming to an agonizingly sudden halt. The world spun around you, a high pitched ringing in your ears that pounded at the pressure in your head. You laid there, with what you could only hope was mud, seeping into the back of your tunic. Rocks and broken pieces of wood digging into your skin, adding to the overall discomfort that was your existence.

The worst part was how unsurprised you were. 

Even as your muscles ached, bruises forming deep beneath your skin and a warm liquid trickled down your leg. None of it compared to the numb void filling your being. 

Nothing had been going your way. 

From countless, sleepless nights that left you tired and unfocused. Regularly losing petty bets to Legend. Misplacing your bag of potions and fairies conveniently before getting attacked and injured by a lizalfos. Getting lost while exploring, falling ill, saying the wrong things or simply messing up in almost every way imaginable.

It seemed to all lead up to yesterday. When getting separated from the group led to an intense scolding by Wars, in front of everyone. It hadn't even been your fault. It's not like you controlled where the portals spat you or anyone else out. A fact you had kept to yourself in the onslaught of being told how irresponsible and foolish you were.

Day after day, after day you waited for things to turn around. Sure, some days were better than others but after so long you came to the simple conclusion that you must have done something. Something so awful that it put you straight on Hylia’s personal shit list.

You took shallow breaths, slowly assessing yourself beginning with your toes and moving upward to your knees. Then your fingers all the way up to your shoulders. Moving each joint and limb to determine its current functionality. By some miracle, nothing seemed broken. Though the intense stabbing around your hip suggested that something had lodged straight through your layers of clothes and made itself at home in your skin.

There was something, some noise beyond the ringing in your ears that your brain couldn't quite make out. It felt familiar, made you want to reach out to it.

You rolled onto your side instead, groaning in pain as you curled into yourself. You peeled open your eyes long enough to see the broken remains of the floorboards scattered around you. Each piece doubling, or tripling in numbers that all swirled around, making your brain hurt even more from the dizzying sensation. 

You shut your eyes, holding your head as if it would break into similar pieces. Coherent thoughts struggled to break through the thick fog that surrounded your brain. Survival instincts begged you to move, to reach for your bag, call out for help, something.

A warm wetness slid down the slope of your nose. It's small droplets disappearing onto the ground of mud and rocks.

A noise. A shout, you realized, rang out. Louder than before but still much too far away to make out what was being said.

Or maybe it was you who was too far gone. Your brain, perhaps now too damaged to comprehend simple sounds and words. Just another thing that had gone wrong. You ignored the sound, sniffling at the tears tickling the tip of your nose. Surely if you couldn't understand you wouldn't be able to respond so what was the point in trying?

Because you need help! 

True. With the amount of pain you were in, you would need help if you wanted to get out of here. 

But, 

Did you want out?

What was even waiting for you out there? More portals and monsters? More mistakes and misfortune that put you and those around you in jeopardy? More pain?

Your friends! Your friends are out there and there looking for you!

Were they? Wasn't it your ‘friend’ that had gotten angry at you? Everyone else had just stood there, listening to him tear into you. Was it because they agreed? Had they all realized how truly useless you were? This was their chance. An opportunity to be rid of you. To continue the journey without the constant worry of your mistakes.

They wouldn't! They-

“(Y/N)!!!”

The shouting from before continued, getting louder and clearer with each cry. It sounded so familiar, like you knew the voice yet couldn't recall who it belonged to.

“(Y/N) Please! Are you down there!?”

The voice echoed through the area. Concern dripping off every word as it continued to call out to you.

“Guys they're not answering! (Y/N)!?”

Your mouth opened, a small part of you wanting to reach out and answer. You laid there, unable, or maybe just unwilling to do so as your mouth snapped shut.

“Uugghhh it's too dark, I can't see anything! I'm gonna go down further, see if I can find them!”

You knew you should be thrilled at the prospect of help, but you couldn't bring yourself to care anymore. 

Getting rescued or simply being left stranded down here, it all felt the same to you. You were simply done trying. Content that whatever would happen was simply the way things were going to be.

You curled further into yourself, letting the numb fog continue to spread through you. Everything felt too tight, like your skin was constricting in on itself. A lump forming in your throat that suffocated even the quiet sound of your still too shallow breathing.

A small thud, followed by the sound of boots squishing in mud as a yellowish hue poked at your eyelids.

“(Y/N)! Guys I found them!”

Hands gently grabbed your shoulders, pulling you to lay on your back. Calloused fingers dancing over your face. Whoever it was took in a sharp breath. Maybe you were worse off than you initially thought if the person was recoiling at the sight of you.

“(Y/n) are you okay? Can you hear me?”

A face appeared in your mind at the sound of his voice beside you. Was that..that was Four, or at least you were fairly sure. Why did he sound so worried? 

Oh right, you fell through the floor.

“(Y/n)? Shit…okay focus Link…uhhh okay, breathing…thats gonna be a problem but…atleast everythings intact?”  You could only listen as he rambled to himself. Checking you over for any obvious injuries.

“Come on,” He pleaded, “why aren't you waking up? Wake up! Please wake up!” He chanted, repeatedly tapping the side of your face.

You were awake. You were painfully awake despite every part of your body wishing that you weren't. You just wanted it to all stop. To be left alone to whatever hell Hylia wanted to inflict on you.

“Damn it, where's that fairy? I swore I had one!” The hands left, likely looking through his bag for something to help you. 

It felt selfish to let him waste a fairy on someone who wasn’t even trying to save themself. Getting yourself to speak up however would be a battle within itself.

For Fours sake, you repeated to yourself as you pried your mouth. If you couldn't do it for yourself you could still try and do it for him. The lump in your throat felt like solid stone, letting only the faintest whisper escape.

“fo..four?”

“(Y/N)! Oh thank Hylia! Are you okay!?”

Damn that felt like such a loaded question right now.

Using all of your strength you cracked open your eyes. Four's face hovered above you, illuminated by the small lantern by his side. His eyes focused on yours, green and violet specks waiting for a reply.

The sight made your throat burn. Vision blurring as tears built up in the corners of your eyes. Four's hand found your face, thumb wiping away the few that slid out.

“Hey, it's gonna be alright. I'm right here okay? I’m gonna get ya out of here.”

“why…” 

Four tilted his head, “Cause I'm pretty sure you don't wanna spend the rest of your life in a cave?”

Lips beginning to quiver, tears poured down your face. “It doesn't matter what I want…”

“Woah,” he said gently “(y/n) what do you mean? Of course it matters”

You shook your head, the motion only aggravating the pain. “no, it doesn't. Everything I do just…I just make things worse!”

The lump in your throat cracked as words began pouring from your mouth. “Just go…I'm better off down here where I can't mess everything up. I mean, what's the point of trying if I can't even walk across a floor without messing it up somehow!?”

It was like your whole body shattered. The pain, the struggle, all of it came rushing out of you in a waterfall of tears. Your hands flew to your face, trying to pretend that you could still hide it all away. Pretend that Four wasn't here to witness yet another one of your failures.

“Wars was right…” you choked. “I'm just a screw up..”

Hands tugged at your wrists, pulling them away from your face. They pulled further, slowly helping you sit up until you rested against Four’s chest. His arms wrapped around you to hold you close as you cried. He put your head on his shoulder, letting your face fall into the dip of his neck. 

“(Y/n) I'm so sorry. I should have said something yesterday because nothing he said was true. None of it was your fault and he knows it. We ALL know that.”

There was a bite to his voice as sharp as his hold on you. His eyes were a shimmering mix of blue and green that reminded you of the ocean.

“The Captain is an ass and just let his worry get the best of him. You are NOT a screw up and ohhh when I get back up there the Captain better-” Four trailed off, mumbling off rather colorful words he would be having with Wars.

He inhales sharply, slowly releasing his breath as you cried into his shoulder.

“That aside, You're in pretty rough shape.” He whispered, “Can you tell me what hurts?”

“Everything”

“Oookay not the best question” He huffed lightly. “The board in your hip doesn't seem too deep but we need to take care of it before it gets infected. Is there anywhere else that hurts more?”

“H-head…” 

“Mmmm…it might be a concussion if you hit your head hard enough which, given how far you fell is more than likely. A potion should still be able to help though along with anything else.”

You whined as your face was pulled from his neck, tears still flowing freely as you were laid back down. There was no real warning before Four pulled out the plank, leaving you shouting out in pain. Something smooth and cold pressed to your bottom lip, urging you to open your mouth. You loosely grabbed at the bottle, taking a few sips of the bitter liquid. Four pulled it away once satisfied you had drunk enough, then helped you sit back up to let you continue to rest against him. 

The pain dulled soon enough, leaving only the numb discomfort in its wake. Four held you close to him, his hand running up and down your arm soothingly. Your injuries may have healed but you were bone tired and still had no desire to move from where you still sat on the cold ground. The only warmth coming from the small lantern and Four's form wrapped around you.

“Have I ever told you about the Minish?”

You knew he was just trying to distract you but you went along with it. Giving a small shrug as your tears soaked into his tunic.

“The r-really tiny…mice like people?”

“Eehhh close enough. Anyway, they are really well known in my era. They actually played a big part in my first quest.”

You peeled your face away just enough to look up. His eyes shining a brilliant redish-purple as he continued on.

“Because they're so small though, most people haven't actually seen them. But they're known for bringing luck and happiness to everyone they do meet.”

“Is that true?” You asked quietly, wiping your sleeve over your face. “That they bring happiness?”

Four nodded, a hand coming up to run through your hair. “In a way. The Minish thrive off of bringing joy to those around them but they can be quite sneaky about it.”

You hid your face into his shoulder. Hopefully hiding the new swell of tears in your eyes.

“Oh…I, I dont think they exist in my era..”

“What makes you say that?”

You shrugged, trying to play off the tightening in your chest. “Cause if they do, why do I feel so miserable?”

Arms tightened around you with a deep sigh, letting his head rest on top of yours. “Do you wanna know what I think?”

You nodded.

“I think it's bullshit.”

Your head shot up, staring at him in confusion. “But you just said-”

“I know what I said but hear me out.” He grabbed onto your hands, holding them in his lap.

“What I said is true, the Minish love to help and bring joy to people when they can. But they don't magically just make you happy. Happiness is something you have to find for yourself. The Minish more or less guide you to it.”

Four paused, his eyes swirling between a mix of green and red as he bit his lip. Something he only does when he can't quite make up his mind.

“I..I think they led me to you.”

The admission took you by surprise. The concept that you could be someone's happiness felt so…bizarre. Regardless, the grief on your heart loosened. It was still there, laying heavy on your mind but you felt like you could finally breathe again. It was a small step, but it was a start.

“I know things have been hard on you lately but…by the Three (Y/n) you make me so inexplicably happy just by being you.”

His lips pressed against your forehead. It's warmth spreading across your face and up to the tips of your ears

You wincing slightly at the way your head spun and you didn't know if it was from the adrenaline or the concussion.

“We should probably get you out of here.” Four got to his feet, offering you his hand. “You ready?”

Part of you still said no. Not wanting to face the others and a potentially ‘worried’ Wars again. You took his hand anyway and slowly got to your feet, letting yourself finally look around at your surroundings for the first time since your crash landing.

From what you could see, the cave wasn't very big but it had been a much longer fall than you realized. The fact that you were even standing was a tender mercy. The small speck of light coming from above only noticeable from where it stood out against the dark, mossy covered walls.

“Shit…I think I hit my head harder than I even realized.” You chortled, swaying on your feet as Four helped steady you. “How did you even get down here?”

“Rancher’s hookshot” He said, casually showing off the borrowed item. He slipped it into his hand, raising it upwards before it shot up, latching onto whatever was awaiting at the top.

—------ 

Getting back up turned into its own ordeal. With your strength still gone, Four had carefully situated you on his back. His power bracelet activated to keep a firm grip on you just in case.

He took it slow, reeling the two of you up carefully. Every shake and stutter of the chain made him tighten his grip on you. Pausing for a moment before continuing the descent up. Once close enough, Time reached through the opening and pulled you up the rest of the way, Twilight doing the same for Four.

He waved off Twilight and Wind’s concerns, insisting that he was fine. Time and Wild crowded around you, taking it upon themselves to check and make sure you were alright while the others tried, and failed, to give you space.

Four didn't take his eyes off of Wars

He didn’t miss the way you kept eyeing the scarfed hero, as though awaiting yet another stern scolding. It took everything he had to keep Blue from tearing the man apart right there and then. The memory of your sobs and broken voice, agreeing to all the offhanded insults he had thrown at you only adding fuel to the fire that Green and Red were desperately trying to reason with.

The Captain did eventually step towards you and Four got straight to his feet, a hand planted firmly on Wars chest to keep him from getting any closer. To his credit, Wars didnt look angry. He genuinely looked concerned but Four wasn't about to take any chances with any of them saying the wrong thing. Not with how fragile he knew you really were at the moment. 

“A word. Captain.”

Wars cocked his head curiously but followed after Four silently until they were out of earshot.

“What do you need, Smithy?”

Four took a deep breath, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “The only thing you are going to say to them, is a fucking apology.” He spat, “And then you are going to leave them the hell alone for a bit.”

Wars eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Four what-”

“You weren't down there, Wars.” His own voice shook, holding back the own stinging at his eyes. “You didn't have to hear the way they cried or how they wanted to just be fucking left down there because of something you said!”

Wars was still for a while, taking in what Four had just told him. His gaze solely on the ground beneath his feet as he tried to compose the right words. “I'm sorry. You're right I shouldn't have yelled at them yesterday. I…I didn't think they would take it so..”

“I know you didn't mean it.” Four heaves deeply, trying to put a reign on his own feelings. “And it's not all your fault, it just was sort of a final straw for them with all the shit they've been getting lately.” 

Four took a few steps back, peeking around the corner where he could see Time still helping you get cleaned up.

“Just…you need to apologize to them. Not right now but…perhaps later tonight when this whole thing has calmed down a bit.”

Wars nodded, leaving Four to walk back to the group alone. He found a spot next to you, sitting down close enough to be within reach but not overwhelm you.

“Doing okay?”

You nodded, a faint smile as you looked at him to mouth a small “thank you”.

He scooted a bit closer, ignoring the glances of the younger heroes as you laid your head back onto his shoulder.

“Anytime. I’ll always be here for you.”

______

You are loved! So please take care of yourselves and reach out if you need help <3 If anything, know this author is rooting for you!

[captain-dville]

*Jonny takes a breath and lets it out. A few gears. A few gears, he can do that...huh, he feels kind of woozy all of a sudden.*

"Okay. Okay... I can do that. Fuck, I forgot how much this hurt... gonna have to steal you something nice after this, putting up with all that... all that bullshit..."

*As he speaks he lays back down, gesturing with their joined hands; his movements and words getting sluggish as the new painkillers start their work.*

"Be gentle, 'kay? Fucking... trust you, dovebird, so be careful."

( @scientist-cognizi )

*So they were doing this.*

*There was no way around it: Jonny was terrified as he sat on the side of the wheel-out medical bed, watching @scientist-cognizi potter around getting set up. They'd done what they could to make the medical bay look less like a lab, though Jonny had been unhelpful in explaining why exactly - he'd thrown a bedsheet over the equipment they weren't using, and refused a medical gown in favour of just stripping down to his trousers.*

*He could hear the irregular tick - czztick - tick of his mechanical heart all too loudly in the quiet room. He squeezed @everybodys-favourite-gunner 's hand reflexively, hoping it wasn't too obvious how quiet he was being, or how his shoulders were trembling. Then he did the same to @drumbbot-brian's hand on his other side.*

*He saw Raphaella reach for a screwdriver, and tensed up - then he let his gaze flick over to Nastya where she was leaning against the wall, watching over everything, and felt his breathing steady just a little.*

[dandylovesturtles]

Decided to write a quick little something for @whumperless-whump-event Day 4: chronic pain/"I'm used to it."

featuring, of course, Sidelined Leo!

like I said before, since it's disability pride month I'd like to do a few things for the Sidelined AU, so hopefully I will find time for more as the days go. For now, I hope you enjoy this!

-----

Leo can tell it's going to be a bad day the moment he wakes up.

The pain in his arms and legs has grown from it's constant dull thrum to a more present burn, and there's a pinch between his eyes that tells him a headache is on the way. Really, he's not surprised; the last few days have been really good. He even went out on a mission two days ago, and did a little skateboarding yesterday. It stands to reason that his body has crashed out on him.

Sometimes he feels angry and bitter about it. Today, he just feels a sort of resigned acceptance. And that means maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

He hits the button on the side of the bed so it bends him into a reclined position, then fumbles around on his side table until his hand lands on his pill organizer. He should probably text someone to bring him water, but it feels like a pain, so he dry swallows them one by one and just resolves not to mention doing that to Dad or Raph.

Then he finally blinks the sleep out of his eyes and looks around his room and... darn it, his chair isn't here. Where'd he even leave it...

His memory is a complete blank on that one, so he sighs and clears his throat.

"Hey, Shell-man?"

There's only a second of silence before Shelldon's voice echoes from who even knows where. Donnie rigged his new room with more electronics than Leo will ever know about.

"S'up bro?"

"You know where my chair is?" he asks, like Shelldon can't track it instantly.

"You left it in the arcade, dude," comes the answer. "Want me to wheel it over?"

Yeah, no way he's getting himself to the arcade today. "Sure, thanks, Shelly."

"No problem, dude!"

Leo lets his head flop back on his pillows while he wants for his chair to be delivered. He fumbles around for his phone this time and takes a look at his reminders.

6:00 PM: Concert with Mikester

"Crap," he mutters, closing his eyes. Right, that yokai hip-hop group Mikey wanted to go see. Leo had promised he'd go with him, but he doubts he'll be able to do it now.

It's not that big a deal. Raph or Donnie will probably go with him if Mikey makes big enough puppy eyes at them. It's just, Leo had been kinda excited about it, too...

The dark buzz that heralds his anxiety flares up, and he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slow. He doesn't want this day to turn terrible. He needs to relax and accept the things he can't change, like April always says. Even when it sucks.

There's a whir of electronics that signals the arrival of his chair. Leo waits until it parks itself next to his bed, then he swings his legs over the bed and stands up just long enough to sit down in the chair again. Even that leaves him feeling a little winded, but he doubts his arms could have handled the transfer so he doesn't bother trying.

He wheels around his room until he finds his big comfy unicorn hoodie, then drives out into the rest of the lair, making his way up the ramp to the kitchen. He can smell breakfast cooking, and hear Raph's voice.

"Morning fam," he says as he comes in, trying to keep his voice upbeat even though he already feels tired.

"Morning Leo!" Mikey echoes, turning around with a whole plate of waffles. His smile falters a little when he sees the chair and the hoodie. "Oof. Flare up?"

"Yeah," he admits, steering his chair into the empty part of the kitchen table. Mikey sets the waffle plate down, and without having to be asked Raph starts fixing some for Leo, with blueberries on top.

It took work for them both to find the line between helping and babying, but they're better at this now. Leo doesn't mind Raph helping him out this way, especially because he'd rather not make a mess of the kitchen table.

"Mikey, can you grab my fat fork?"

"It has a name," says a tired voice behind him, and Leo smirks as Donnie comes around the side and makes for the coffee machine.

"I just used it. It's the fat fork."

"It's a GeniusBuilt Secure Grip Adjustable Fork-"

"I'm not saying all that."

Donnie huffs. Mikey snickers, swinging around him to deliver the fork with the thick grip to Leo. He has another set with a loop that can secure to his hand if he needs it, but this one is fine for now.

"Here!

"Thanks Angelo."

"Did you take your meds this morning?" Raph asks.

"Yes, Mom," says Leo, rolling his eyes as he cuts off a bite of waffle.

"Really? 'Cause Raph didn't hear you ask anyone to bring you water-"

"I had some leftover Gatorade in my room," Leo lies quickly.

"Uh-huh." Raph looks at him skeptically. "Leo, you know taking pills without water hurts your throat."

"Meh meh meh, you'll hurt your throat," Leo repeats in a mocking voice. Raph reaches over like he's going to cuff Leo on the head, then seems to rethink it and steals some of his blueberries instead. "Hey!"

"You are all so noisy already," comes Splinter's voice, and he finally comes into the room to join them, wearing the robe he slept in. He looks up at Leo in his chair. "Are you in pain, Blue?"

Leo hums an affirmative. "It's not that bad, though," he adds, because it's not. Comparatively.

Now it's his dad's turn to look skeptical. "Are you sure?"

Leo grimaces. "It's... a little worse than normal," he amends. "But I can handle it."

"Mmm..." Splinter walks off to get in his own seat. "Let us know if it gets worse."

"Yeah, yeah..."

The conversation moves on to other topics, up until Leo's wheelchair beeps at him. He groans, glancing down at the battery indicator, which is firmly in the red.

"You forgot to charge it, didn't you?" asks Donnie, looking amused.

"Shut up, I've been busy!" Leo snaps back.

"If you left it on the charger when you aren't using it then this wouldn't happen."

"Alright, anyone else have any criticisms for me today?" he says, except it comes out a shade too bitter and Donnie's grin falters.

Good job, Leon, way to be a dick. He winces, focusing again on his waffles. His arm is sore from the effort of eating and he wants to crawl back in bed and stay there, which is exactly the sort of attitude he's been trying to avoid.

"...I have the backup chair in the lab if you need it," says Donnie. A peace offering.

"Thanks," says Leo, returning it.

So after breakfast, Donnie helps him swap chairs. His main one is put on the charger and he wheels himself to the living room with the backup, then calls for Raph.

"Think you can help me get comfy, big guy?" he asks.

"Of course," says Raph with a grin. "What do you want?"

It's nice that he asks now, instead of assuming.

Leo directs him to help him onto the couch, then Raph gets him his fluffy blue blanket to cover him up. Even though he took his meds, he can feel the pain radiating at his hips and knees and he guesses he's going to need more later. He sets an alarm on his phone and settles in with a Jupiter Jim flick to fall asleep to.

He's not out yet when he hears the pad of feet, then feels the couch dip as Mikey sits next to him.

"Hey Leo," he says softly, and Leo gives a hum to let him know he's still awake. "You think... you're gonna feel up for the concert tonight?"

Oh right. Shoot. It had already slipped Leo's mind, and now he feels guilty all over again.

He opens his eyes and tilts his head so he can see Mikey. "I don't think so. I'm sorry."

"You don't gotta apologize!" says Mikey quickly. "I'm sorry you're having a rough day."

"It's fine," says Leo. "I'm used to it."

"I'm still sorry," says Mikey firmly. He gets up, then comes over so he can give Leo a very awkward couch hug. "I wish you didn't have to hurt," he says, sincerely.

Leo leans into the hug. Feels the dark buzz of anxiety ebb away.

"Hey, it's alright. All you guys make it easier."

Mikey beams at that, bouncing back up. "Hey, I know," he says. "I'll get Donnie to help me set up a sweet livestream so you can see the concert from right here!"

They don't have to go to all that trouble for him. But Leo looks up at his little brother's shining smile and can't say no.

"That'd be really cool," he says, and Mikey claps his hands.

"Yes! Okay, I'll go get Dee and we'll get on it!"

He races away. Leo chuckles, curling up under his blanket.

Maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

[genderqueerdykes]

i know this isn't exactly what you usually talk about but i need to ask somewhere and you seem really safe and kind about stuff.

I'm struggling to work out if i 'count' as physically disabled - because like most of my problems (fatigue, joint pains, weakness) are Not That Bad™️ and most of them would probably get a lot better if not go away completely if i did things like eat better and sleep properly and exercise more but between the aforementioned fatigue and pain and the autism and the having a 9-5 job and so on it makes it practically impossible to do those things anyway. Like yeah my weak ass legs would probably be better if i did exercise but i dont have the time or the energy.

But then also Something Is Up like i had back pain at age 5 - that's not normal. Nobody ever diagnosed it as anything i just went to a chiro a few times and got some stretches i rarely did because a) i was a kid and b) the stretches either didnt do anything at all, or were literally impossible. Like there were a few that were completely trivial and i could do to the maximum extension of healthy joints unless i was otherwise injured, and others where i physically couldn't reach the starting position - not even always because of pain but just because my joints physically didnt move that far. (I try to do the ones i can still at least sometimes but i've forgotten the ones that were physically impossible) So like there has to be Something up - a 5 year old does not get back pain for lifestyle reasons.

Idk. this is getting ramble-y i think but i just don't know what i feel and I'm so shit scared of doctors (for no good reason, they're just very stressful environments) that i haven't ever brought any of it up as an adult and so there hasn't been any attempt to do anything about it anyway but also i'll probably just get told to stretch and exercise anyway and as discussed that isn't always an option.

I read a fair bit of physical disability stuff and i sometimes reblog or engage with it a little bit if it's like 'oof ouch my back' or whatever that i relate to really obviously, but idk if I'm allowed to be in those spaces more obviously or what i should do about any of it either.

(ow. my hands hurt from holding my phone to type all that. that's getting worse too. not sure what's up with that...)

hello there!

generally i'd say that if you're experiencing joint pain, especially right as you begin standing on your feet and weakness, there's a very good chance there's an underlying issue. that's enough to say that you're physically disabled, as it's impacting your ability to work, stand on your feet, and so on. it's up to an individual to decide whether or not they feel disabled by their aches, pains and so on

definitely try to avoid chiropractors moving forward- most of what they do is nebulously helpful at best and damaging at worst. if you are able to do so, seeing a rheumatologist, orthopedist, physical therapist or kinesiologist. you may be able to speak to a pain management specialist in your area if that's necessary. you can get referrals to these types of specialists and appointments through your doctor.

best of luck in figuring out what's going on. i would say it sounds like that's disabling for you. i hope you're able to get some help for that so you can have an easier time. take care for now, stay safe

[glitchy-npc]

Tenacity

Done as a discord prompt, Tegan and Ortega have an impromptu sparring session that goes...poorly. Sidestep era days, pre face reveal. 1,051 words.

The training mat is supposed to soften the blow and while it's better than concrete, it still hurts when Ortega’s throw lands you flat on your back. Maybe you shouldn't complain, it wasn’t hard enough to activate your pain gate and it would have been far more embarrassing if he caught you. You have an audience after all. Steel and Anathema watch from the sidelines, having paused their own workouts to watch your impromptu sparring session with Ortega. 

He had been the one who suggested it, with a cocky smile and a challenge that was impossible to say no to. You're starting to figure him out, how he likes to bait people, throw them off guard. A guard you put up once more after picking yourself up off the mat, ignoring his outstretched hand. You won’t let him coddle you, not with witnesses.

You watch his feet as he moves hoping they’ll telegraph his next move since the static hum of his mind reveals nothing. It's inconvenient, like fighting with a blindfold. Maybe you should have asked him to fight with one hand tied behind his back. But this is something you need to prove to yourself. That you're strong enough, good enough to run with the Rangers. 

You should have been watching his hands. His left hook catches you by surprise, cracking against your cheek bone and you know it will bruise because you feel your pain gate kick in, slowly muddling the sharp sting of the blow. It's a sensation you’re becoming increasinging used to. At least your mask hides the damage. As well as your expression. 

Ortega winces in sympathy. “Oof, I really thought you would have sidestepped that one.” A wink is all he offers by way of apology. Not that you would have accepted one. No one has ever apologized to you in your life, no reason the Marshal should, just because he’s friendly. 

Friendly when he's not trying to kick your ass in front of his coworkers. Focus. You need to get past that reach. No way you can slug it out with how much taller he is and there's nothing near you besides empty space that you could use to your advantage. Part of you wonders if Steel and Anathema are keeping their distance out of concern for stray lightning bolts. It's been known to happen. 

No, you’ve got to get him off his feet, on the ground. If you can get him into a lock you might be able to get him to tap out. 

You duck low under his raised guard and lock your arms around his torso. With your pain gate active you barely feel the body blow he gives you and you sacrifice your footing for the aid of gravity, sweeping your leg behind his dominant one, using your momentum to bring him off balance. He doesn’t fall like you wanted him to, rolling to diffuse the impact, but you’re still locked together. And what's worse, he's on top. But while your arms are pinned, so are his. He has the audacity to smile at you and you're sure it's not just your imagination that reads the suggestion in it. 

Ok. Time to fight dirty, your enemies would. You crack your forehead into his nose as hard as you can, your pain gate saving you from the worst of it, not so much for Ortega. 

He swears in Spanish but the surprise blow is enough of a distraction to roll him off of you. Not that he lets you get to your feet. 

He’s fast but then again you knew that. He grapples you down again. Longer reach, heavier body, what were you thinking? It's not long before he has you pinned, face down, one arm trapped beneath you, the other locked behind your back. You struggle despite it but your kicks find no purchase.

“Tap out!” The Marshal voice. Looks like he's not playing anymore. 

Drops of something wet and coppery smelling hit your mask. Blood? Did you break his nose? You’ll call that a victory even if your arm beneath you is shaking with the effort to get him off you. You push with every bit of your strength, trying not to think about how you’ll feel once your pain gate resets.

“I said tap out!” The pressure increases on the arm he has a hold of. You don’t feel the pain but there's a tightness in your shoulder that worries you. He could break your arm. 

Easily. 

“Fuck you!” It’s all you can think of to say as you feel your eyes sting. What made you think you could take on Charge of all people? He’s been in the hero game for years, there's a reason he was made the Marshal. And you? A runaway little cuckoo who was never made for combat. Small. Weak. Everything your blue-skinned siblings said you were. You squeeze your eyes shut hard, half to push back the tears, half to muster the very last ounce of strength you have.

You feel your bodies lift ever so slightly and then…

“Enough!” Suddenly all the pressure is gone as Steel drags the Marshal off of you and you quickly scramble to your feet. Anathema stands in front of you, close but not touching you as Steel stands in front of Ortega, barriers between you two. 

There's a strange look in Ortega’s eyes as blood flows freely from his nose, you’re not sure if you approached him now if he would hit you or hug you. 

“You should have yielded…” His voice is softer than it had been before, unsure, not a tone you’re used to hearing from him.

“I think we're done for today.” Steel says with a finality you can feel. Even if he’s an asshole, he’s at least good at keeping a cool head. He offers the Marshal a towel and suddenly the sight of his blood makes you nauseous. You need to get out of here. 

“Whatever.” Is all you offer by way of goodbye, turning on your heel to storm out of the training room.

“Sidestep, wait! We can-” Anathema’s voice calls out to you but you’re already out the door. You walk as fast as you can, it takes all your willpower not to run.

Nobody stops you.

[anony-man]

Chubformers drabble #149!

Character: Starscream (ES)

Word count: 1.3k

Frag G.H.O.S.T. and its claim of building a safer, friendlier world. Frag the operation to Unicron and back, and its gang of allies, too. Frag them, frag them all, and good riddance, as the humans would say.

Starscream knew a trap when he saw one, and in a place like that, he knew only bad things could follow. He knew the signs, the lures, the tantalizing offer of freedom and a taste of something better. He wasn’t a fool, no matter what Megatron seemed to think, and he certainly hadn’t just come online yesterday.

Though his spark still pounded and his helm still spun at the very thought of being trapped in that place again, the flier allowed himself a chance to rest and relax a little. It was hard to turn his processor off when it had worked itself up so badly, but things were over now, and with that in mind, he had slowly begun coming down from the terror of it all. The threat of impending danger and government officials spilling from the tree line was ever present in his racing processor, and he could already tell it would remain so for some time… still, Starscream also knew that he needed to calm himself down before something unpleasant followed.

Both Nova Storm and Skywarp slept fitfully nearby, the two fliers lying tangled together against the cool grass under the cover of a maple tree. Having exhausted themselves from the events of the day, they remained deep in recharge and blissfully unaware of the tizzy their third companion had worked himself into. Thank Primus, Starscream thought as he crouched close beside and reached into his subspace. He didn’t need them getting worked up, too.

With careful, quiet movements and bated breath, Starscream slid one cube after another from the extra space in his cockpit. Frag G.H.O.S.T. and its so-called promising operation, he thought to himself as he shoved cubes of fuel into the laps of the sleeping seekers and stacked a pile for himself to eat. He’d been to the other side by then and did not at all like what he had seen.

“Stay here,” he said to no one in particular, all while hoping that by some miracle the two snoozing seekers would somehow hear him. “Don’t get caught and don’t run off. I’ll be back in a few, all right?”

As expected, there was no reply. Starscream sighed and internally facepalmed at how motherly he’d become since reuniting with the two other bots, then rose to his pedes with his share of the fuel in his arms and crept off into the trees.

G.H.O.S.T. had been a cold, hard place for bots like him, and taking his fair share of fuel on his way out the door was only one way the vengeful seeker was looking to get back at the organization. As the sun set, and the day came to an end, he found his resolve weakening and his strength waning… and Primus, was he hungry.

Though waking his companions was something he was desperate to avoid, Starscream hadn’t managed to get very far away from their temporary setup before his trembling legs buckled underneath him. He hit the ground with a painful oof!, the impact sending cubes of energon he had precariously stacked flying in all different directions.

“Scrap,” he hissed under his breath as he rose to all fours and reached a trembling servo out to the nearest discarded cube. “Those idiots…—ugh.”

How pathetic this must have looked from an outside perspective, Starscream thought bitterly as he sat back on his aft and tore the lid free from the first cube. He was left high-wired and anxious, exhausted and starved, and it was all thanks to G.H.O.S.T. The poor seekers who’d fallen dead on their pedes from the strain of escaping weren’t much better off, and he was all the more angry because of it.

Frag G.H.O.S.T. and its filthy operation. Starscream wished desperately to one day have a better opportunity given for sweeter revenge, but right now, he was plenty satisfied with making it out of there alive. That and the weeks worth of fuel he’d managed to smuggle for him and his two companions, of course. G.H.O.S.T. may have gotten him first, but he was intent on getting the last laugh.

He would have never admitted it, but as he began to drink, Starscream almost felt relieved Nova Storm and Skywarp had passed out before getting to the fuel he’d stolen. He could only imagine what a sight he made as he sat there, guzzling cube after cube and suckling the residual fuel that dribbled down his chin off the tips of his fingers. G.H.O.S.T. had left him a wounded, starving animal, but Starscream was finally beginning to right this once again. His appetite was fierce, and his processor was a mess, but each cube of fuel he lifted to his lips and chugged down seemed to make his problems disappear.

Starscream chugged one cube after another, his focus having moved solely to filling the ache in his gut. He was starved in the system, and stifled by their barriers, but now that he was free once again, he could do as he pleased—so he did. One cube became two, and two became three, and before he knew it, the stockpiled stash of energon stolen right from under their noses had become a pile of empty containers tossed aside and licked clean.

Some time had passed between falling to his knees amongst the trees and becoming engulfed in the raging hunger that drove him to eat and eat and eat, but when Starscream came back to his senses, it was to sticky fingers, slack-jawed panting breaths, and a bulging belly that curved beneath the glass of his cockpit.

Starscream closed his optics and grimaced, his callback to reality dawning slowly. As the ache in his belly gradually increased, leaving behind the bittersweet taste of stale energon rations handed out to all the ex-Cons such as himself, he forced his processor to slow its racing and took in a series of deep, steady intakes. The trees rustled against the wind, and somewhere in the distance he could hear the faint sounds of wildlife, but no signs of any curious or concerned seekers were to be found.

Good. They’d slept through most of the night and the appeasement of his ravenous appetite. He couldn’t ask for much more, really.

With his belly aching all the more by the second and the crash that followed an intense and stressful day like the one he had had, Starscream could feel his frame threatening to shut down on him. He was exhausted now, his bare needs having been met, and all he craved from here on out was a good bit of recharge in close proximity of the other seekers. He tried to stand, but his belly protested, a threatening gurgle emitting from its pit in response to his daring attempt at moving.

“Of course,” he muttered aloud, one servo falling back against the grass while the other circled the dome of strained, bloated mesh. “The one night I indulge again and it backfires. Why should I be surprised…”

Well, he supposed he’d at least gotten a chance to eat by now. Besides, Nova Storm and Skywarp weren’t far off; if something were to happen, he’d know.

Disregarding the fact that his stuffed tanks had already made the decision for him, Starscream slumped back against the grass with an audible huff. His optics were closing before he’d so much as folded his servos over his grumbling middle, and by the time he’d found a rhythm to awkwardly soothing his bellyache, he was already drifting off into recharge himself.

The clearing was a mess of empty cubes and a bloated, sleeping seeker, and that much would be found by Starscream’s two sleepy companions come morning. In the meantime, he was content to sleep through the worst of his bellyache… because after all, he didn’t have much of a choice.

[thezombieprostitute]

A Change is Coming

💐Send a whole bouquet!💐Write a surprise drabble or create a moodboard for them. 

This is an idea I had floating around and I don’t know if I’ll ever get to use it on a full fic so I will dress it up in daisies for you, dearest Zombie. Hoping it isn't too dark or bloody.

Warnings: Injury and Blood.

You never thought you’d be a runner. How often did you see those people in their short shorts and loose tanks, toned legs and sweaty foreheads, bouncing with their earbuds in, arms pumping, knees lifting. You could never be one of them... 

Well, now you are. It’s a change. A big change. One long-needed. One made out of fear and panic. 

You have to get healthier. You have to try. You’re starting to feel your age, really, you feel beyond it.  

You tried other things. Yoga was too slow and breathy. Weight-training a bit too heavy and too much. And the gym in general sent you running with sore muscles and no less self-esteem issues. 

Running. Rather, jogging. You’re starting off easy. A slow pace through the trail. You don’t need to worry about the gym bros and their judgment or the girls in their tight leggings filming for Tiktok. It’s just you and nature and oof, your knees! 

Two weeks now. That’s an achievement. Sort of. Two weeks but you gotta keep it up. No time to start patting yourself on the back until you see results. 

Your breath is harried and burning. Your fitbit buzzes at you, slow down. You ease up as you come up and incline. Your thighs are on fire. You wait until you reach another dip before you speed up again. Your heart pumps hotly and you feel that odd calm that comes at your peak. You feel almost good. You feel-- 

Something catches your ankle. Something you couldn’t see as you kept your eyes six feet ahead. At first, the pain doesn’t occur to you, not as you’re sent stumbling forward, crashing, arms flailing as you land on the leaf-strewn trail.  

You lay on your stomach, panting. You groan and roll over, sitting up as you spot the obstruction that tripped you up. A wire tied across the path. It can’t be a coincidence. It’s a trap. 

You look down at your ankle, the one that met the wire. You nearly scream as you see the gash and how your foot hangs to one side. Then you feel it. Your adrenaline courses but cannot numb the agony that creeps up from your injured leg. You hardly feel the scrapes all over your arms and knees as you stare at the torn flesh. 

You babble dumbly. What do you do? How do you get out of here? You’re too afraid to move. Oh god. What’s happened to you? Why you? 

Your hands shake as you hold them before you in shock. You hear a rustle of leaves and the wire slackens. You blink and stair as a man walks across the path, winding it up around his hand. He turns to face you as he unhooks it from the other side. 

He tuts as he comes closer, looming over you. He wears a hoodie and a beanie, a dark stubbly beard across his jaw and cheeks, his blue eyes the only bright thing about him. He tilts his head and squat before you as he examines your ankle with a suck of his teeth. 

“Yikes, that really did a number on you,” he comments, “won’t be walking this one off.” 

You whimper, terrified. He’s unfazed by the sight of your blood. In fact, he’s not bothered at all by the scene before him. By the way he holds the wire, you know he set it up. 

He looks you in the face and tilts his head, “you’re not the one I wanted...” he pulls the knapsack off his shoulder and tucks away the wire inside, “but you’ll do.” 

He swings the bag over his back and moves over you. You cower as he bends to hook his arms under yours. He braces you, the smell of the forest clinging to him. 

“Now, you wanna keep your weight off the right foot, so work with me,” he girds, “you’ll be better off if you do everything I say.” 

You shudder and suck in air as he makes you stand. Your toe hits the ground and jars your ankle. You yelp and cling to him out of instinct. 

“Keep that foot up, sweetheart,” he warns as he turns to stretch his arm across your back, “we got a long way to go.” 

Thanks so much for this, Roo! I really appreciate it!

Is it bad that my first thought is "he's selling me to Kemp!" 😅

Kemp has to back out of the chase for a while, too familiar to too many people. So he hires a few people to do his hunting for him. He doesn't care how they get the girls so long as the girls are alive and pretty.

So Curtis relies on his trapper skills. He finds his prey, gets her usual routine figured out, and sets his trap. But he catches you instead. Pretty enough, Curtis thinks. Can still get my payday.

The trek back to his truck is, of course, slow and painful. You vomit at least once from the pain. Sitting in the truck doesn't help much, either. At least he's got some medical supplies there and starts treating the ankle though you throw up again from the pain.

By the time you get to your destination much of the shock has worn off and the tears are flowing. He helps you limp inside. You know you should scream, try to fight, something, anything but with how casually he treats your pain you get the impression he could make it so much worse without care.

When you're sitting down again, your captor calls out for someone named Kemp. Kemp walks in, sees you and says, "I said 'pretty' girls, Curtis. I'm not buying this one."

"She's pretty enough for your clients. You can always sell her parts with someone else's photo."

"I have a reputation to keep amongst my clients. One hint that they're not getting what they ordered I could be ruined."

"Fine, just pay me half but you're keeping her."

Kemp considers you. "She does seem rather docile. Maybe I could find another use for her besides meat."

Should the story continue? 😆

[wannabelilybriscoe]

ASFTEOTW: Chapter 3 Commentary

Chapter 3 of A Song for the End of the World! We see Hogarth for the first time! This feels like a million years ago, both in terms of where I was when I wrote it and where we are in the story presently. Even though things weren't simple for our heroes, they felt simple by comparison to now, didn't they?

Previous Chapter

Someone stops them in their tracks. A soldier. He’s also wearing a mask.  “Where are you taking him?” the soldier asks.  “Stand down, Lieutenant,” says his father. Remus can feel how tense his father is against him, body coiled to spring.  “You know the protocol, Captain. All infected persons must be retained in this room and not let out under any circumstances.”  “We’re going. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Stand down. That's an order.”  “Lupin, it’s over. He’ll change any time now. You’re risking your life, Hope’s life, everyone around you.”  Remus’ world is spinning again. Understanding uncurls inside him like the cruel talons of a hawk. “I will not see my son put down like a dog. This is your last warning, Lieutenant. Stand down. Let us through.” 

Oof. Every scene with Remus and Lyall was painful to write. Lyall loves his son deeply, but he doesn't have the vocabulary to express it properly. He is very much a man of his time, with his own protective barriers that he puts up around himself. He is proud of his military work and expects Remus to follow in his footsteps, but when it comes down it, his family comes first, before anything else. I don't want to over-explain Remus and Lyall's relationship because I'd like for readers to take from it what they want, but I'll say that much.

“Now, dear, I’m going to need to remove your clothes to get a proper look at you.”  Panic shoots through Remus. “No!” She’ll see the bite. They’ll be afraid. They’ll turn him away—or worse.  Effie fixes him with a sympathetic look. “I will be gentle, I promise. Your clothes are dirty, and we need to clean you up so your wounds don’t become infected. I can see that your leg is injured, but I need to get a proper look at you to make sure there aren’t any open wounds anywhere else.”  Remus swallows the lump in his throat. So be it. There really is no getting around this, save for running from the room. He nods and flinches when he feels her glove-covered hand on his cheek.  “I can see you’ve been through a lot. But you’re safe here.” It’s like a dam breaking. His face fills with heat, and his vision blurs as his eyes fill with tears. A great, deep sob escapes from his chest. He misses his Mam so, so terribly. He’s so, so tired.  He feels arms wrapping around him, warm and strong. He’s filthy and covered in blood. He’s going to ruin Effie’s shirt. But she doesn’t seem to mind. She holds him for a few moments while his entire body shakes with his sobs. 

In the previous chapter, Sirius pokes fun at James for picking up strays. But I'd say Effie is the one who picks up the most strays, wouldn't you? She's always quick to wrap her arms around someone who needs to be held.

The women get to work. Remus is embarrassed when Effie and Lily remove his flannel and cut open his t-shirt and trousers, and he does his best to avoid their gazes. But he can't help but watch their faces as they take in the map of scars covering his torso. Their eyes widen when they see the bite scar on his chest, and his heart kicks up its pace.  “D-dog bite. Six months ago.” He doesn’t elaborate further than that. Effie meets his gaze, a question on her face. She looks back down at the scar and gently feels it with a glove-clad finger. She nods and says nothing, carrying on. He tries his hardest to keep his face neutral. 

Effie: Mhm. Sure.

“Welcome to Hogarth, Remus. You’re looking much better already. My name is Minerva McGonagall, and I’m the headmistress of this school.”  “Thank you for having me,” he replies dumbly. Minerva smiles patiently and continues.  “There are eighty-seven of us living at the school currently. We have worked hard to maintain a home that is safe and secure for our community—especially the children. We maintain a strict chore rotation and bathing schedule to ensure the cleanliness and health of our people, and we are careful to ration our food and water resources. To maintain everyone’s safety, we keep weapons in a locked arms room.” She looks pointedly at his shotgun, resting against his pack at the foot of the bed.  “Despite the actions of your friends today, we have a strict rule that anyone coming or going from the castle must inform me and the other members of our staff.” Staff. The word sounds absurd to Remus’s ears. “You are welcome to stay with us and be a part of our community as long as you understand and adhere to these important rules.”  Remus feels incredibly uneasy at the thought of parting with his shotgun. He takes a steadying breath. 

Oops. Haha. Get used to that feeling, bb.

He sits back against the cushions and opens an empty page to begin writing: Day 183 A bend in the road. A close brush with death. A beaten-up van. Three marauders, plundering the wreckage of fallen cities. The first: a young king. The second: a fretful mouse. The third: He pauses and thinks. His heart thuds in his chest.  The third: a star, fallen to earth.  He must be losing it. He needs sleep, and badly. He quickly scribbles out the rest of his thoughts. A castle by a lake. A girl with fiery hair. A mother and a father. A good witch. A warm meal. An embrace. Kindness. Safety. For how long?  Tears drip onto the page, blurring the word Safety. A choice: Stay? Or go? Then he sets the notebook and pen down on the nightstand and turns out the light. 

A star fallen to Earth? Remus, you simp.

Found a lot of typos in this chapter. Very embarrassing. Better late than never, right?

[cheerstotheelites-if]

Any ROs!

"I nearly lost my mind when I thought that I've lost you."

I had to think about real hard who to choose here, hence the delay 😭

~•~•~

I fall apart And when I fall apart I'm no one else's You own my heart You own my heart like no one else's

– Lvr Boy - awfultune

~•~•~

"Ah, shit." Eliseo grimaces as he shakes off some dirt from his clothes. To end the day with collapsing an old building to kill something would be something that only happens in movies. Unfortunately, Eliseo has a tendency to make those chaotic fantasies come true.

"Should've burnt the house." He grumbles to himself, spitting out some dust that got into his mouth with a disgusted look. Looking around, the expanse of the prairie under the dim moonlight, he stands alone. No matter where he turned, the grasslands are kind enough to wave at him in greeting.

...

Hope you got out safe.

...

Sighing, Eliseo stretches a bit with a small groan, before his arms fall slack beside him. He spins for a moment, stops at a random direction, then starts walking. No idea where he's going, but it's better than to stay out in the open.

It's quiet.

Only the grass being crunched under his feet and the rustle of small plants were the only noises. Save for the occasional night critter that passes by, nothing else made a noise. He reaches for his phone from his pocket, stopping in his tracks when he doesn't feel it. He pats his other pocket, throws his head back to the sky, and lets out a frustrated groan.

"Of course." He lets out an exasperated sigh and rubs his face. As he fumes out a healthy string of curse words, he starts walking again.

...

He doesn't know how long it's been since he started.

The moon's way higher up now, and his legs have been aching for a while now. His throat's dry and sweat coats his neck and back. His eyes are fighting to stay open despite his mind trying to shut everything down.

Gods, maybe he is gonna die in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. His moms will wonder if he's ran away and try to look for him, unaware that he's in a place neither of them went to. Everyone else he burnt his bridges with would probably be happy to know about his death. Zeph and Weylyn would be heartbroken, of course.

Then there's you.

...

He must be hallucinating from thinking about you so much in his fatigued state that he swears he just heard your voice calling out to him. It was faint at first, and he just ignored it as he continued walking.

Then it got louder.

And closer.

His ears perk up upon hearing rapidly approaching footsteps. Stopping in his tracks, he turns his head and—

An audible "OOF" escapes him as the air gets knocked out of him from the sudden hug he's tackled into. He falls back onto the grass, groaning in pain.

"What the fuck." Eliseo looks down, frowning, but halts upon meeting your tear stained eyes looking up at him.

"I nearly lost my mind when I thought I lost you." You sniffled, burying your face in his chest as you hug him tight.

A sigh of relief leaves Eliseo's lips as his head falls back to the ground. One of his hand reaches up and pats your back lazily in a soothing manner.

"I told you," he chuckles, "I'm a stubborn piece of shit."

"And an asshole for scaring me half to death." You added, voice a bit muffled.

"That too." Eliseo gazes up at the sky before him, stars twinkling in the colorful cosmos of beyond. "... I'm sorry for scaring you."

You shake your head and rest your cheek on his chest. "You're alive, Eliseo. That's what more important, really."

He nods, swallowing a lump that formed in his throat. "I guess so."

[new-royston-cursebreakers]

Find the Word

Thank you for the tag, @eli-writes-sometimes! Find its post here.

My words are pain, protect, and perform. I'll tag @dogmomwrites, @gummybugg, and @writersandpoetsunited for the words quite, rebel, and song.

From The Curse of New Royston:

pain

A shadow looms over them. Cricket turns to see the empty face of Gio’s palm reaching toward them. Eneas pushes Cricket back, reaches in his windbreaker, and vaults forward. There’s a flash of silver—Gio’s hand darts away. “Come on!” Eneas screams, tugging Cricket away with his free hand, the other clutching a bloodied razor blade. Feeling a numbness creep up his legs, Cricket follows along, stumbling as Eneas drags him toward the door. He dares a glance back; Gio sits grasping his hand, face twisted in pain. He opens his squinted eyes just enough to catch a glimpse of them before they get away. The malice etched in his gaze sends Cricket’s heart pounding again.

protect

Cricket starts to stride over to Fletcher’s position. Still slightly bitter that his idea didn’t pan out, Gio takes another swipe at Cricket, this time smacking him right in the side. Cricket lets out a muffled ‘oof’ as Gio’s fingers wrap around him, lifting him up. But before Gio can blink, Cricket’s slid his way out from his grasp, twisting and contorting his body to get through his fingers and jumping down to the mattress again. “Not gonna get me that easy,” he teases. “C’mon, Fletcher. Pick me up!” While Gio’s still embarrassed that he couldn’t do something as simple as catch a bracket-one person, he’s at least thankful that Cricket’s got the reflexes needed to protect himself, just in case anything goes wrong.

perform

Not to mention the figure himself! If Gio’s not worrying about the computer, he’s worrying about who exactly that was, why he was watching him—he’s got enough to be worried about with the world’s eyes on him, with the constant expectation to perform, to be at his best, he doesn’t need some creep stalking him as well! That’s assuming the figure was even real—it could just be a hallucination brought on by all the water in his brain. He hopes that’s the case, seeing as his parents won’t do anything about it either way; better a fake danger than a real one.

[monaisme]

Sicktember: Day 24

#24- Tales From the Waiting Room

It was supposed to be a quick run-in. She’d brought Stella at the emergency room reception desk her favourite iced coffee and hoped that she could call in a favour, see a doctor, and hopefully confirm that she’d only tweaked a muscle in her right shoulder blade and not done something worse.

The Parker household could not afford for this to be anything other than that.

Seeing as Parker luck was a real thing, even if by marriage, it only made sense that moments after Stella gave May a conspiratorial wink and nod and directed her toward the not too full waiting area for ‘just a sec,’ the first ambulance arrived.

May sat back with a sigh, and then winced. This was not how she’d planned to spend her day. She had been looking forward to a sip n’ bitch session with Pepper while Peter and Tony messed around in the lab that evening, and had a blissfully plan free day otherwise. Yes, it hurt to move certain ways, and yes, the pain was a little much when she inhaled too deeply, but still. She was convinced that she only needed to do the whole heat-rest repeat thing and would everything would eventually sort itself out.

But then Peter saw her breath catch as she tried to pull her coffee mug from the cupboard earlier that morning and the muscle had hurt just right.

It was over for her once he’d pulled out those big brown eyes and then May was grabbing her insurance card and purse and heading out the door toward Mount Sinai- Queens.

What else could she have done? Those eyes should be registered with the FBI or something.

So with nothing to fill her time with but her phone or people watching, May made what she hoped to be the smart choice. It would serve no one for her to screw up her neck by staring at her phone for who knows how long, so staring out the windows to the sidewalk and patient entrance it was. Besides, she spent half her workday looking at screens so the appeal had been lost a long time ago. At least it seemed to be an average sort of day, thank goodness. Patient traffic didn’t seem too excessive, people were coming in, and people were leaving, which meant things were moving well, and nothing May could see from her seat screamed imminent ‘code blue’... even with the ambulance that just pulled into the emergency vehicle bay—

—Which meant that May had just jinxed herself, as demonstrated by the yellow cab screeching to a halt in front of the building to drop someone off for care. The sliding doors to the ER opened wide, and a pale, middle-aged woman clutching a sandwich baggy full of ice with one hand while pressing her other dishtowel-wrapped hand to her stomach rushed in—or maybe staggered in was a better way to put it?

Oof. Either way, May was getting the impression that she shouldn’t be here.

Then May saw it, way sooner than any of the other staffers did, and so she stood, then called out, “Clive!” to the veteran security guard manning the security desk just beyond the entrance. Clive had been at Mount Sinai Queens for as long as May had for a reason. She yelled, “Chair! Quick!”And pointed to the line of wheelchairs set alongside his desk and then the woman in need using her left arm. She watched as Clive put the pieces together in a split second and rushed to help the woman into a wheelchair before her legs gave out completely and her visit became something even more expensive.

With a hasty nod of thanks to May for the save, Clive turned his attention to the Lisa, the triage nurse who had finally come out from behind her own desk to help them. May didn’t think too much of Lisa on the best of days—no one needed the bathroom that much or to be on the phone for ‘emergencies’— and she guessed that Clive felt the same as he brushed Lisa’s ‘helping’ hands away from the wheelchair, and took over pushing the poor woman and her mystery body part back through the security doors to the treatment area.

If she’d have been on shift, May would’ve bet real money that Lisa had been on her phone again, but at least there was Clive, and he would forever remain a rock star in May’s eyes.

May sat back down then, adjusted the purse at her side, and prepared to resume her *fingers crossed* short wait when the relatively well dressed woman seated across from her cleared her throat.

“Shit.” May swore to herself under her breath as the sound made her realize her oversight. She fumbled through her purse and pulled out a fresh mask then smiled politely to the woman opposite as she put it on.

The woman rolled her eyes but moved past what she obviously felt was a personal slight, and broke the silence with an inquiry, “The security guard. He knows you?”

And while May wanted more than anything to roll her eyes and tell her to mind her own damned business, this was May’s place of employment and as such, she was a representative- blah- blah- blah, and she braced herself instead. She knew exactly where this was headed, so she simply answered, “He does.”    

The woman’s gaze sharpened, seeming to assess May as she sat before her, “I’m trying to figure out if you’re office staff, a nurse, or something else. I hoped I could tell by looking at your hands but that’s only made it all the more unclear.”

May couldn’t help but look down at them before cringing inwardly. Her fingernails were clean, trimmed and filed short and, yes, the Sally Hansen nail polish was starting to chip, but only a bit, and she’d have gotten that dealt with today if she hadn’t done whatever she’d done to her stupid shoulder.  

May sighed and folded her hands together into her lap, then tamped down a bit of a cough.

Maybe she’d have to take Pepper up on that offer of mani/pedis one of these days, after all. 

“Wonderful! You see my point, then—you could be custodial staff for all I know, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing for me?”

May’s jaw dropped in disbelief at the gall of this woman. She glanced toward the still empty desk where Clive had been sat, but she could only assume things had taken a turn once they’d gone to the back and she was on her own. She exhaled slowly to calm herself, then replied, “At this exact moment, I’m just a woman waiting to see a doctor, ma’am, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to, um... yeah.” May got up, collected her purse, and moved over to a row of chairs closer to the triage desk.

Notification of another incoming ambulance carrying two gunshot victims was easier to hear from where she was sitting now, and so May closed her eyes, and sighed small enough to not aggravate her damned shoulder blade again. She was definitely feeling the weight of the day already and could only try to mentally prepare herself for what she should have known was going to be a long wait.

She ignored the rustling sound across from her.

“That wasn’t very polite, you know?” The woman had moved seats, determined to continue her unwanted conversation. “I was simply asking because I’ve already been waiting for three hours and only hoped you could help me instead. That’s what you do, right? Help people?”

May’s eyes snapped open and tried moving her neck from side to side, wondering if she just did some stretches, would things improve enough that she could justify leaving without being seen? –And wondering if this woman would ever take the hint.

“Well?” The woman pushed for a reply.

It hadn’t even been fifteen minutes, and she was so close to calling it done—except she knew that Peter would never forgive her.

And so May endured. “I’m sure that everyone else here feels like they’ve waited too long, too. I’m afraid it wouldn’t be fair to—”

“It’s not even a big deal!” The woman cut May off. “I’m certain I’ve got some wax build up in one of my ears and it’s driving me mad. It would only take a minute for you to do that flushing thing that you nurses do, right?”

May simply blinked as she tried to process the ridiculousness of this woman behaviour. Really? “I’m sure your primary care provider could get you in and have that taken care of without you needing to waste—” What May wanted to say was ‘precious medical resources and man hours with something so NOT urgent, but instead she continued, “your time.”

“But if you help me, I don’t have to waste anymore of my time, see?” Was this woman really so clueless?

Another one of May’s coworkers came into the waiting room from the back with a chart in hand. “Claire Westerfield,” she called out to the room at large. May hoped, but knew there was no way this woman was going to be called in to be seen any time in the next six to eight hours with the variety of actual injuries and illnesses present in the ER.

An older woman got up from her seat with the help of a dishevelled young man—maybe her son? It was a slow trek, but eventually they made their way to the treatment area and disappeared through the doors.

Lucky.

The woman huffed in annoyance. “I bet they don’t even have insurance.”

“And I bet that’s none of your business.” May snapped back. The ER was an harassment-free zone. There were even notices on the wall—and May’s patience was running thin.

“You say that like someone who cares... and yet, here we still sit.”

May crossed her arms, grunted in pain as the muscle pulled, and breathed through it—but said nothing.

Sometimes silence made the most impact.

The main entrance doors slid open again, a rush of people came in from the street, and still, Clive and Lisa were missing in action. Stella, who had long since finished her iced coffee, stepped out from behind her desk and took over.

The woman huffed even louder, “At this rate, I’m never going to get seen.”

May wished she could take a deeper breath. This woman was getting her heart rate up.

A crackle sounded from nearby.

Shit.

Another ambulance was incoming.

Oblivious, the woman went on. “Nurses don’t get paid that much, do they?” She contemplated her next words then rifled through her purse. “I think I have a few hundred dollars in my wallet. Is that what it will take for this to get done?” She pulled the wallet from her purse before May could protest, not that it stopped her.

“Ma’am!” May hissed. “I’m being as polite as I can be. Please put that away—and stop it! This is enough.” May hissed. “If you can’t leave me alone, I’ll report you to security and have someone escort you out.”

“You can’t deny me medical care!”

“Then behave like you’re here for it and not getting your car from the valet! Now, if you’ve developed new symptoms that could impact your potential treatment, or if your existing symptoms have worsened, you are more than welcome to head back over to the triage desk.” She cast a quick glance toward the desk and Stella doing her best to do her job quickly and efficiently. “Then wait for the nurse to get to you, and tell her all about it. She’s more than capable of assisting you.”

May, once again, grabbed her purse and moved to sit a few rows away—or at least intended to—

—Except that the woman hissed out a barely audible, “Bitch,” and her leg shot out, tangling into May’s legs before obviously correcting her positioning in her seat. She called out a faux-shocked, “Oh!” and made no effort to hide her malicious grin.

May knew there was no way she could catch herself, not that she had the time to try. She’s only tried to make herself small to mitigate the damage. She cried out in pain as her right side slammed into the floor, knocking the wind out of her. Her desperate gasps turned to coughs as she tried to catch her breath.

Thank goodness there were still good people in the world. If she’d had the ability to focus on more than getting oxygen into her lungs, she’d have seen the cluster of other waiting room occupants standing up and calling for help... and security.

It felt like forever for May, but within moments, Clive was at her side, along with another newer security guard, though he disappeared from her sight almost immediately.

And all May could think was that she was making a scene.

May tried to get up, still trying to get her breathing under control, but Clive placed a restraining hand on her shoulder to keep her on the floor. “You know the protocol, May,” He explained calmly, even though she knew this. “Stay still till we can get someone come out to assess you. I know it sucks, but...” Clive glanced up and smiled. “I guess your coffee bribe worked after all,” he chuckled. “Lucky you! Personalized service!”

Stella’s face popped into view across from his. “You know,” she crouched down low, placing herself in front of May and blocking her view of some sort of scuffle going on towards her feet. “The coffee was more than enough to do the trick, hun. You didn’t need to do all of this—” Stella winked teasingly.

May smiled as she coughed, finally feeling like she could manage to speak. “Points for effort,” she grunted out and shifted slowly to position herself to stand.

“Hey! You know better than to do that!” Stella chastised as she tried to stop her.

But May glared. “And you know I’m not an idiot. Now let me get up.”

Stella raised her hands in surrender. “Fine, but will you at least let me get you a wheelchair for now? Thanks to Manhattan Barbie over there, you’ve just been bumped to the front of the line.”

“Wha-?” May looked twisted a little to see what was going on.

And what a sight it was. Clive’s co-worker, who was obviously newer and less adept at the art of zip tie wrangling, was struggling to get Madam Earwax under control while Clive looked on from his place beside May with amusement.

May looked up at Stella, confused. “What happened?”

Stella snapped right into nurse mode with May’s inquiry. “Did you hit your head, May? Does it feel tender anywhere?” Stella started palpating May’s scalp.

May swatted her hands away, getting more than a little frustrated by her prone position on the floor. “No! Stop it! I didn’t hit anything! I’m—” May stopped speaking for a moment as her lungs spasmed again. “I’m fine,” she finally reiterated. “I just don’t know what happened?”

“What happened is the woman who had apparently been hassling you?” Stella formed the beginning of her statement as a question, then waited for May to confirm with a quick head nod before continuing, “Well, she decided that you weren’t getting away with whatever you did to her, and intentionally put out a leg to trip you.”

May’s eyes widened in shock, “Are you serious? That cow tripped me?”

Stella nodded, “Yup, so Harry is restraining her—or trying, I guess? – until the police get here, so you don’t need to worry about her bothering you again.”

Another crackle sounded, and all May could think was that the hospital really needed to invest in some clearer sounding technology... and damn, another ambulance.

Stella recognized the face, “You don’t need to concern yourself with that, love. If you can believe it, Lisa’s finally gotten off her phone and decided to do her job, so we’re going to get you up into the wheelchair she’s bringing over here and we’re going to get you into the back. I’m pretty sure you’re going to be dealing with one of the interns for now, but if you promise to bring me another coffee the next time we’re both in, I’ll make sure it’s that really good looking one with the accent, deal?”

May choked out a quiet laugh, “Deal.”

[skiplo-wave]

In the past four years, I have not tested positive once for COVID-19. But they treated me like I had if someone in my household came down with it and tested positive. Apparently some people can't test positive.

Well, this year for the first time I tested positive. It felt like a really bad cold. I got sick with it in June. I ended up having to go to the hospital because my chest felt tight like it did when I get bronchitis. I get medicine and a inhaler. Get sent home. I start getting better. I relapsed in July and went back to the hospital. I remember having really bad pain in my back, but mostly down my spine. I was there a lot longer and too the point I needed physical therapy. I lost all strength in my legs. They are still not 100% but I can walk. My ankles feel weird sometimes like they are numb. I had to get me high-top shoes to strengthen them. I still get pain in my spine. But my doctor said that sometimes COVID-19 can cause polio-like symptoms. I am vaccinated too. I haven't got the newest one. They don't want me taking it yet. I have to be better for so many weeks before taking it and because I relapsed once, they want to make sure I am not going to do it again.

:(

Oof

Hope you get better soon

[6mm4d]

they sit on you on accident: obey me brothers

it's been a long week and what better way to re-energize then to take a nap on the couch amongst all the pillows. that is, until you're rudely woken up by the sensation of being squished to death

lucifer

"AGH- OUCH!!"

Lucifer shoots up right away when he hears and feels you under him

"For heavens sake, are you trying to pull a prank or something? Why are you tucked away so quietly?"

He makes sure to give you a once over, squeezing ur legs and waist to make sure you don't flinch in pain

Once he's reassured that nothing is broken or bruised he picks you up, walking down the hall with you tucked in his arms

"Where are we going? Well if you insist on napping mid-day I'd prefer you do it in my room where it's safest"

"....and I apologize, I didn't see you"

Makes sure to give you an extra sweet kiss goodnight, because in truth he feels quite guilty (not that he'd ever tell you)

mammon

"MY LEGS"

Screams and scrambles away from the couch immediately, only stopping when he realizes that the couch didn't scream, it was you

"What the-?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?! ............Huh? I sat on you? Seriously?"

Asks if anything hurts and pulls up your skirt/pants leg to double check

Even if you're fine he feels awful, clearly he startled you and who would like being sat in mid-nap

"C'mon..."

"What do you mean 'huh?' You're coming to my room, be grateful"

Decided to cuddle with you since, after all, his arms are the safest place you can be, right?

"Hey.... uh.. bye the way.... i'msorry.. now sleep"

Levi

"OOF!-"

Screamer #2, makes sure to run all the way down the hall for good measure

Peeks over to find out it's just you!...and hey why are you glaring at him?

Feels guilty after you tell him that he sat on your stomach, he almost killed off his Player 2, what kind of best friend is he??

"I'm sorry...I swear I didn't see you there!"

"Um..you should probably move somewhere else though, what if Beel ends up sitting on you?"

Follows you to your room like a lost puppy and swears he's just there for a change in scenery (even his room can get stuffy sometimes)

Despite that, as you drift off in dreamland, you can feel him tucking you further in your blanket with shaky hands, his Deviltendo Switch long forgotten

Satan

"WHAT THE-"

Sits up immediately and looks down at you, eyes wide and book thrown on the other side of the couch

"I sat on you, didn't I? I'm sorry, are you okay?"

Makes you sit up so he can do a checkup, asking you to move your legs up and down and hitting your knees to check for reflexes (he saw it in a human movie)

"Ahh, you scared me, I'm glad you're not hurt. Come on, my room is lot safer than the living room, you can take the bed "

Reads to you quietly until you fall asleep, only then opting to tuck himself right next to you

Not before pressing a kiss to your head, adding a little healing spell to it for safe measure

Asmo

"OW OW OW!!"

Screamer #3, the absolute drama queen even holds his hands to his heart like an anguished victorian woman

Figures out pretty quickly that he sat on you, considering that you're still directly under his ass

Sits up and pats you down, quickly massaging the areas that he sat on

"MC! I'm so sorry, darling! Are you hurt? You scared me so much!!!"

Once you reassure him that you're fine he huffs and grabs you close

"Don't scare me like that! You're such a fragile little human that even little old me can hurt you! We're going to my room this instant!! It's WAY safer there"

Lays down with you and presses kisses to your head, hoping that this time you'll be able to nap peacefully without interruption

Beel

"AHHH!"

Jumps off the couch quickly, recognizing your voice immediately

He's pretty freaked out considering the fact that he's the biggest brother, he could hurt you easily and that's something he'd hate to do

"MC? MC, I'm so sorry, please get up"

Visibly relaxes when you gather your bearings and sit up, unharmed (and just disheveled from the sudden awakening)

"You're okay?.. You're sure?.. Ok, don't scare me like that, you could've gotten hurt "

Picks you up and takes you to his bed, where he holds your hand until he's assured that you're sleeping comfortably

Belphie

"UWAHH-!!"

Rolls off of you immediately, landing on the other side of the couch before sitting up to look at you

"Eh? What are you doing there? I thought you were a pile of throw pillows..."

Proceeds to take off any camouflage from you, tucking the pillows underneath you instead

"Sleeping quietly in the living room is dangerous, even I know that... C'mere"

Lays on top of you, reaching his arms down to massage your sides which he so rudely crushed a minute earlier

"There, now if anyone sits here I'll take the brunt of it..... You're welcome, you can give me a kiss as a reward"