#help!! I’m drowning in my own self pity!!

[virgo-dream]

cw: virgo feels like a fucking idiot

I’m discovering a lot about myself lately. I’ve also been spending a lot of time inside my own head rather than actively participating in life, but maybe this is just me being overly critical of myself.

I feel… tired. Constantly. Not physically tired, seeing that I am taking a huge amount of vitamins and have started on an anti-androgen to help with my PCOS symptoms that have been running rampant for the past two-ish years (I won’t get into the psychological implications of that in this post). I have energy, per se, and an able to do things when sufficiently motivated.

I’m just never sufficiently motivated.

I’ve struck a balance with my mental health that is completely illusory. I’m starting to notice these cracks and an ever growing frustration taking over my heart like weeds on an unkept field. My body aches, my willpower slips through my fingers. I am, once again, defeated by my own sadness.

I’m not sure what I’m expecting with writing all of this down. Life has been a lot lately, and I have been shrinking, constantly. Hiding. It hurts. It physically hurts me. Writing it here gives me an outlet, and I think there are friends here that genuinely care. I don’t mean to make anyone worry with writing this, but I need to feel heard instead of trapped in the echo chamber of my own head.

Anyway, that wasn’t very slay the house down boots of me.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 12

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on the amazing @discoscoob 's concept & bot!

Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, dubcon/nsfw. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!!!

one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

Twelve. 十二

You do not leave his bedroom for two days. 

You fuck, and you sleep, and occasionally he comes up for air long enough to fetch something for the two of you to eat from the kitchen. You don’t know how you’ll ever look Mrs. Wong or any of your other friends on the staff in the eye again. You’re certain they know where you are, if not the exact circumstances in which you are being kept there. 

Mainly, the lock on the door, the key to which is a 6 digit passcode only Donaka Mark knows. You never gave that keypad a single thought, until the first time he activated it while you watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, your body rendered into a lump of despondent limbs and orgasm-melted bones. He is a demanding lover, but a generous one. You still don’t know if you can take comfort in that. He knows how to manipulate people, how to give them what they want to bring them to heel. 

You are taking the opportunity while he is out to clean up in the bathroom, and you look at yourself in the mirror. You almost don’t recognize the reflection of the wild-eyed thing with a mane of bedroom hair. Your body is covered in small bruises, love-bites and imprints just the size of the tips of Donaka’s fingers. Yet these small aches are nothing compared to what you feel inside your body. 

You don’t know how porn stars do it, because that man has wrecked you, and you quickly found out that begging for mercy only encouraged him to give you more. His cock is a weapon of mass destruction, and you would laugh about it if you didn’t think it would hurt. You lean on the sink and take a deep breath, bracing your lower abdomen with your hand. Help, my hot-as-fuck millionaire captor has a huge dick, and other problems no one ever wants to hear about…

“Are you hurt?” 

You jump at the sound of Donaka’s voice in the doorway. You were so absorbed in your self-pity you didn’t even hear him return. You find his tall form darkening the doorway, a frown pulling his severe features.  

“I’m fine,” you answer immediately, remembering what you got from him the last time you complained. 

However, he clearly doesn't believe you.

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’m…sore,” you admit, afraid he’ll use this information to punish you for weakness, pushing your boundaries even farther. 

“Are you bleeding?” He crosses the bathroom in two strides, swiping between your legs like he owns you, inspecting his fingers. Despite all the depraved things you’ve done in the past two days, you still start from his presumptive invasion. 

“No.”

He nods, looking over you with a frown. “Let’s have a warm soak,” he suggests. “It will help you.” He opens the taps on the massive tub, and he could have pushed you over with a feather when he gathers you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead with a tenderness that makes you dizzy. 

He never apologizes. Not then, and not while you are lounging together in the soothing warm water of the tub, your head resting back against his broad shoulder. You nearly fall asleep more than once, and you might have drowned if he didn’t hold you with a long arm wrapped about your waist. You realize it’s the first time in the entirety of knowing this man that you feel secure in his presence. The realization makes you blink with surprise, turning your head to look at him. 

He regards you sleepily with one eye open. “Rest,” he tells you, and even though it’s a command, he delivers it gently. “I’ve got you.”

You’re not sure you understand Donaka any better than when this whole fiasco started, but with an uneasy thrill you realize that you want to. The one and only thing you should want is to run…but in the meantime, maybe you’ll unravel some of the mystery.

You’re just going to have to be patient, the sane part of you reasons. For now, you have to bide your time. Behave so he doesn’t make things worse for you. Eventually, he’ll slip up. He has to. 

Right?

You’re not so sure about anything anymore.

***

When at last you emerge from the warm water he wraps you up in his robe; he smiles for the way his garment utterly engulfs you. It smells intoxicatingly like him, and you think your brain chemistry might be developing a dependency on him like a drug. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks, cupping your cheek in his big hand. “I ordered some supper brought to the terrace.” 

You nod, and he kisses your forehead with a tenderness that makes you see stars. He couldn’t have shocked you more, had he slapped you. “Come on.” He pulls on a pair of black lounge pants on the way, apparently unbothered by the cooler evening air on the terrace outside. 

You admit you are grateful when you see dinner is already waiting on the table, and you do not yet have to look Lin or Mei in the eye just yet. 

Donaka surprises you again when he holds your chair for you, sliding you in closer to the table. When he removes the cover from your bowl, you see it is your favorite beef noodle soup that you raved so much about in the entry in your journal on your birthday. “Oh.” You couldn’t imagine better comfort food in that moment, and you look up at him with moist eyes. He touches your cheek again, but says nothing, taking his seat across from you. 

You realize in a way this man knows you better than anyone, because he has read the textbook of your innermost workings. The thought still makes you squirm, though maybe a little less than two days ago. Perhaps because rather than toss you out on your ear after reading your darkest yearnings–he fucked you silly, and seems to have no intention of letting you go.

At first dinner is silent as you tuck in to Mrs. Wong’s excellent cooking. And then…your conversation proceeds almost as though things are normal between you, and this is just a day like any other. To any random onlooker you would appear to be a couple taking sustenance after a marathon session of lovemaking, and Donaka ordered your favorite food made. It’s the sort of thing one does for a mate, not a captive.

For the umpteenth time in the past few days, you feel as though a war is being fought inside you, for your heart, for your soul, and winner take all. You look up to find Donaka is watching you from across the table. When you dare meet his eyes he smirks at you, before popping half a boiled egg in his mouth with his chopsticks. 

That’s when you know that maybe this is a pleasant reprieve, but he is not done with you yet by half.

*** 

He could break you as easily as dropping a teapot on a slate floor. 

He knows all the ways to mix psychology with physical pain to get what one wants. It is a game he relished as a younger man, but he finds he wants something else from you. Is he going soft in his older age? He does not think so, so much as his tastes have simply become more refined. 

He wants a game. 

Any asshole can bend a woman to his will with his brawn. But what he craves is a balance between defiance and obeisance. You are strong, and spirited, and taming your little spats has become one of the highlights of his day. 

He likes your fire. He does not like your little ideas about running away from him. 

He will chase you, but he doesn’t want to. 

Maybe he is getting old. 

He does not think he is capable of love. He never was–except maybe for his sister, a lifetime ago. The act of sacrifice for anyone’s well being but his own is utterly beyond him now. But he cannot deny he feels a certain warmth, when he thinks of you. Something cloying and addictive, that has slowly seeped into his blackened core like poisoned honey. 

Something more than lust. 

Whatever it is, it’s certainly new, and it’s been a while since Donaka Mark has found something that interested him this much. 

He will see how long the fun in this game lasts, and then he will decide what to do with you. 

You look across the table at him with those big eyes that take everything in, so bewildered yet daring to hope. He knows that you’re trying not to, but you are not built that way. It’s almost enough to make him wish he had a heart to give you. After reading your writing, he’s sure you could describe this scene down to the minutest detail later. You would make a good witness. 

Something to be wary of later, perhaps.

[aheathen-conceivably]

🎶 I ain't looking for a lie to believe, my own'll do me fine 🎶

Strangerville’s saloon was in full swing. Men who were worried about feeding their families or women scared their men may never come home from California finally had a place to drown their worries or lose them in the high of a shared laugh. Where illegality and excess had amplified the spirit of drink a decade before, now palpable relief and struggle had taken its place.

In between pouring a never ending stream of whiskey and beer, Josephine watched the woman across the bar. She had thought that outselling her would be easy. She had been dismissive, gruff, and even downright rude; and if there was one thing that Jo had learned in New Orleans, it was that she could sell anything with a suggestive glance better than the disdain she often really felt. 

Only this woman made no effort to hide the ribs and insults she seemed to lay out like easy jokes. She would swoop down to tables, seemingly calling each and every patron by name, laughing roughly and loudly before bringing them one beer after another. Part of it infuriated Josephine, but another part wouldn’t let her tear her eyes away from her every move.

She seemed comfortable running the place entirely alone, throwing Josephine a wink in between customers as though to say: I’m going to win, city girl. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

At the end of the night with the last drink served and the final stumbling patron seen to the door, Josephine and the woman sat at the bar, tallying their earnings. As Jo reached the end of her stack and set it on the counter, the woman was still counting. She finished with painfully slow fanfare and put the pile neatly beside Josephine’s. It was clearly and discernibly higher. “Well looks like we have a clear winner here, and we know what that means, don’t we?” 

Then she smiled in the same dismissive way that she had earlier that day, and moved her gaze to the stack of ones Jo had set down, “Not too shabby for a first night though. Most people in this town don’t trust a new face but you did better than I expected. And I’ll admit, the extra help was nice. A decade of sitting at home did nothing to temper these drunks, and I could use you around most nights.”

Jo straightened her spine and covered her eyes. Suddenly the job seemed like pity, the money nothing but a tether to a place she hated and people who had betrayed her. It wasn’t hers, and it certainly didn’t give her the sense of self or freedom she had expected to find. All the stacks told her was that she had lost. Lost to some tall and stocky woman at her own game in someone’s else’s bar in some fucking desert town she couldn’t even give a damn what the name was.

Her head swam and she started to separate from herself, to forget where she was or who she was. If she could feel her legs she would have stood to run, run to the edge of this town into the desert, away from this place and these people and all of these feelings…

“Jesus Christ, are you okay?” The words had come like static from a radio, from a voice she didn’t recognize or really care to please.

“What? I – I just,” Josephine stubbed out her cigarette straight on the bar as she gathered herself and turned to stand. Only she couldn’t, because she still couldn’t feel her legs or sense where she was, even as her pride and anger started to flood back to her flushed face. “I was just thinking on your offer. I’m afraid I can’t take it.”

The woman laughed, the sound shaking off the remaining clouds around Josephine’s head. “That sore of a loser, huh? Well that pride’ll earn their respect a lot faster than your pretty grins. Come back tomorrow night, we’ll go again. I’ll teach you a few names, see if we can tip the scales.”

Josephine looked up at her. By that point she could have moved to stand, walked back across town with her head held high and the secret of her loss hidden carefully away from the man waiting for her at home. Only there was no pity in the woman’s face, only a wry if good natured sense of superiority that Jo was more than familiar with from her own mirror; and up this close it was hard to deny that even with its hardened lines, there was a beauty to the woman’s face, so much so that Jo wanted to reach out to the hand extended to her even more.

As she did so the woman let her hand stay in Jo’s a moment longer than she expected. “Welcome aboard Miss Duplanchier. Now's as good a time as any to introduce myself. I’m Valcita. Valcita Grove. But you can call me Val.”

Then Jo realized that she was right. Her face was beautiful, the same way that the shadowless desert was beautiful in the full heat of the midday sun. Her heart beat faster as she imagined running into it again, not in fear this time, but in freedom, smiling as her world went up in flames behind her.

[madame-fear]

mmkayyyy now time for angsts 🤝

you and enzo know each other best. even after your next break-up with your most recent partner, he is the first person you call.

𐙚 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄, 𝐈𝐅 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔.ᐣ

ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : on god,, author is self cringing at this, circus music pleaseeee 🤹‍♀️ its been months since I last wrote for Enzo, BUT i hope it was what you expected my darling babe, and that you enjoy it !! 🥺♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : request above. ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 811

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : hurt/comfort, slight angst, fluff, drabble. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Enzo Vogrincic x (fem!)Reader.

All that time spent on your relationship. And what for?

All that endless love given, all the devotion you constantly offered blindly, almost tossing aside your own self merely to focus on your boyfriend— just for all of that to be thrown into a trash can so carelessly. The sweetness bought in your relationship turned into dust, slipping away from your life. It rapidly slipped away from your fingers, with each passing second.

Desperation could only linger in the present moment of your life. Desperation to get that harrowing, stinging pain in your chest to fade away. But it was easier for you to reminiscence on what it had been… On what it could have been, rather than letting go, as your now ex-partner had done. You were at the brink of losing your sanity, which currently hung from a thin, fragile thread.

Withdrawing yourself was the very first impulsive instinct overwhelming you. You were as if on a labyrinth— stuck in a constant limbo of pity, outrage, and self-loathing. Had you done something wrong to deserve this? No, you must have done something. How could those thoughts not gnaw your own head so dreadfully? It consumed you on the inside slowly.

Along the feelings of withdrawing yourself, in order to properly and fully process the event, came along the need to vent out all those built-up emotions. And who else could be better to attentively hear and comfort you, other than Enzo? The one and only who knew you best, as you knew him better than anyone else did.

And that was exactly what you had done as soon as you could free yourself from the brief shock of the situation— call for him. Whenever you called, he went to wherever you went, for whatever you needed.

“Ay, chiquita.” his voice softly muttered, noticing the state you were in. Good thing he always managed to visit you at home as quickly as possible. You could barely tolerate another second being alone, slowly drowned by sorrow. His mere presence already brought comfort, and all you could do at the moment, was lift your sight to stare at him with an almost pleading look in your eyes. “Come here,”

It only a took a second for Enzo to widely open his arms invitingly, and wrap them around your body rather tightly— allowing you to unconsciously throw yourself at him, embracing him back as firmly as you could. Your head rested against his chest gently, feeling as if all the emotions that had grown inside of you were beginning to be spilled out. It didn’t matter anymore if you allowed your tears to escape in front of him, not in such a disappointing moment.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled weakly, faintly beginning to sob. You couldn’t help but think at the moment, just how silly your reason to cry was— but it really wasn’t, much less for him, who was willing to be your emotional support whenever you needed it. The warmth of his arms engulfed you tightly, pressing you against him.

The embrace was accompanied by a small little peck being placed on top of your head, his lips lingering on the spot for a few seconds before pulling apart slowly. “Why are you apologising?” you heard him asking, being very gently rocked to the sides with a soft movement. “You weren’t properly appreciated by someone you genuinely loved.” he continued, “You have all the rights in the world to feel sad, even upset.”

A weak smile quivered on the corner of your lips helplessly, a wave of comfort washed over the angsty emotions overwhelming you. This man knew exactly what to say to make you feel better. You even dared to say that not words weren’t always needed for him to be able to comfort you, but simply his mere presence.

“He didn’t deserve you, forget about him. You only bring the purest sweetness and love— a little piece of light amidst darkness.” a small scoff spurred from you, sniffing all the escaping tears away. “Thank you, but you only say that because you do love and care for me.” you joked, being answered back with another scoff. The sadness that had been lingering in the atmosphere managed to fade away leisurely.

“You’re right, but I also mean it. You don’t deserve any less of what you give.” the Uruguayan man retorted softly, placing his chin on top of your head. There was no denying that you were a special sweet little person in his life— how could he not constantly show it to you? It never mattered if you had to be reminded a thousand times of how much you were appreciated by him, he would still do it.

“I promise, I will always reciprocate all the affection you give. And I’ll show you, just how loved you are by me.”

◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` taglist .ᐟ

@luceracastro @castawaycherry @creative-heart @cyliarys-starlight @deepinsideyourbeing @chiquititamia @koiibiito @lastflowrr

[akiira00]

Hellooo💚

May I ask request Jinwoo x reader with reverse jealousy. Jinwoo leaves for raid, comeback with news telling that he's get close to female hunter and assume they have a relationship. Reader drink while looking at the news, start with rumble, then when the alcohol hits, it's turn to tear and sob. Lay down to couch and cover their face with pillow. Jinwoo come home, seeing his lover on couch then find their trace of tear on cheeks. When he wake them up, they're still drunk so they pour their feeling in drunk behavior while sobbing and hiccups.

Ah sorry if this is so long, idk how to tell this in a short description😭

Love your writings💚💚

— Assumptions

Pairing: Sung Jin-Woo x g/n! reader

Genre: Angst, comfort, angst to fluff, slow burn

Synopsis: You suddenly hear assumptions of your not publically announced boyfriend dating another girl on the TV, with the remarks of your friends and all, you end up consumed by the worry.

A/n: Sure! I don’t mind long requests, they give me more inspiration to write! You asked for tears, I shall give you some. Hope you like how it turned out, and yeah, I chose Hae-In as the ‘assumed girlfriend’ because I didn’t find any other that could fit the role-

Length: 1.6k words

As you woke up, you realized your boyfriend had yet-again left early to clear raids, which you just shrugged off, going downstairs and grabbing something to eat as you sat down on the couch, noticing a weird piece of paper.

“Sarang, I’ll be home late today, have to go clear some raids. See you.”

You sighed to yourself, folding the paper and leaving it on the table’s top while grabbing the remote to turn on the TV.

“Yet again, the S-Rank hunter Sung Jin-Woo cleared a red raid in less than four hours…! But wait- Hunter Hae-In was there too?! Now that I think so, they look fairly close…”

You heard the news speculating as you froze at the sight. The news and social media were exploding with images of both Jin-Woo and Hae-In together, really, really close.

As you tried to keep yourself calm, you couldn’t get your eyes off your phone, you noticed a faint blush on Hae-In’s cheeks on the image. “What the…”

You turned to text him to seek out an answer, but the news showed both him and Hae-In walking into another raid in a row. There went the chance to talk to him.

Your mind was running like crazy, as you clutched your hand on your thigh. ‘Is he really cheating…?’ ‘Am I just… Not enough?’ You asked yourself messily as you started yet once again overthinking.

“Such a good way to start a day…” You muttered under your breath as you noticed it was 2 p.m. sharp. ‘What are they both doing in since four hours ago…?’

You were just a C-Rank healer, and Jin-Woo made it clear he wanted you to stay at home instead of working, as he could take that part easily.

‘Is it just because Hae-In is actually strong or useful…? Is that what I’m lacking…?’ You thought, standing up with a sigh as you reached out on your cabinet for a rather small bottle of alcohol.

‘It should help me clear my mind at least…’ You opened the bottle and fetched yourself a glass, pouring some of the drink on it.

As you brought the glass to your lips, you let down a few tears at first, letting yourself be consumed by the heat forming on your throat because of the drink.

‘Jin-Woo and Hae-In, huh…? They sound well together…’ You said, feeling the horribly disgusting piece of self-pity, drowning your own mind as you filled another glass up.

“They both make such a good team… They’ve cleared multiple raids without rest! They really seem like a couple… But are they? I really hope so!”

The words spoken on TV broke your heart more than anything. ‘Yeah… I think they do…’ You hummed, as you laid down on the couch, feeling the tears flooding your cheeks, making you lean onto a cushion to cry on, ocassionaly grabbing another drink.

Jin-Woo at the other hand had just left from the last one of the raids he had programmed, he had already left Hae-In at her house and he was tiredly walking down the street.

It was almost 10 p.m., as he slowly opened the door to your shared home. He was taken aback by the dark ambient, excluding the noise from the TV, which was left on.

“Huh…?” He muttered as he went closer, trying to find the remote to turn it off, but he then noticed it in your hands, with you hugging some cushions as you slept on the couch.

“Again..?” He sighed, walking up to switch the lights on, making you hiss a bit, but what he failed to notice until then were the tear streams that were marked on your cheeks. You just dropped the remote on the couch and turned around to hide your vision from the strong lights which made you even more dizzy than you already were.

“Sarang..? What’s up…?” He shook your shoulder trying to wake you up, which ended up happening, but as soon as you opened your eyes and saw him, you just scoffed, looking away.

“Welcome back… *hic*” You muttered annoyed as you turned away from him, leaving him a bit confused. “Tell me what’s going on…” He tried to convice you to talk, which made you sigh, turning to look at him with a pained look on your eyes.

“Don’t you have to be with Hae-In or something…? Just leave me be…” You muttered out annoyed between hics, as he slowly understood what was going on.

“What’s that supposed to mean…? Wait. Do you think that…” He just sat down beside you, lifting you up with his powers as he made you sit on his lap. “Huh- L-let me out… *hic*” You tried to resist, as you were clearly not in the mood to deal with him, and he noticed the red tint on your cheeks and how a bottle was laying down empty on the floor.

“Answer… What were you thinking, sarang…” You knew you didn’t have a way out of it, and just had to suck it up. “It’s nothing… Just tell me this… Am I too useless for you…? She’s clearly better than me so…”

He stared at you in utter shock. “What do you mean…? I swear if you’re thinking what the whole media is…” You had no option than to nod weakly. “For god’s sake… I don’t like Hae-In. And I’m your boyfriend, don’t be stupid…”

He meant everything, but he kind-of made it sound as if he was annoyed, which made you just shut your eyes and lay on his chest, simply bawling your eyes out as you cried, having a gentle and weak grip on his shoulders.

“Wait, wait- Don’t cry… Ugh…” He clearly didn’t know how to handle the situation, as he wasn’t the brightest when it came to comfort. “I love you and only you okay…?”

“But… W-why…? *hic* She’s just perfect… She has everything I don’t and as an extra, she’s actually useful… I’m just a bother to you…” You were consuming yourself with shame and self-pity, as he had no other option than to pat your back gently, letting you spill out your concerns.

“You’re fine… I don’t like her, and what if she’s an S-Rank? I told you not to do raids because I can take care of that… I just went with her because an agreement… I don’t care about power and you know that…” He said, trying to explain it to your now childish and intoxicated self.

“Hmph… I-I don’t believe you…” You muttered out between sobs and hics, turning to hug him as you tried to let youself get convinced by his words slowly.

“I’m telling you the truth… Just rest, okay…? I’ll talk to you in the morning…” He suggested, picking you up almost too easily and getting you to the bed, where you fell asleep quickly because of how tired you were from crying.

Next morning, you woke up with a heavy headache, leaving you dizzy as you couldn’t even recall the passed events. Your mind was a total blackout, as you just sloppily tried to stand up, but the sound of the door opening made you wait.

Jin-Woo moved the door open as he let himself into the room, laying a plate of food alongside a glass of water and a pill near you as he sat down by your side.

“H-huh? Jin-Woo…? What’s going on..?” You asked as you didn’t remember anything special for him to do such a thing, as it was a bit too unlikely for him to do so.

“Just eat… Is there something you want to talk about?” He asked, clearly hinting at something you couldn’t recall. “No…? Is everything alright..? What even happened…? I don’t remember anything…”

“Let’s say you kind-of told me a few things… And I’m here to prove you wrong because yesterday you wouldn’t just listen…” He said with a sigh, leaning down and giving a gentle peck to your lips.

“I love you and only you, okay? Don’t ever think otherwise… I just keep our relationship private because I don’t want the media going all crazy, and you’d be kind-of in danger if you’re seen as my girlfriend… I just want to keep you safe.” He said, with you hearing him clearly astonished, but you couldn’t help but smile with a tear running down your cheek.

“Oh god- Don’t cry again now…” You shook your head and quickly leapt over to hug him, as you smiled. “I’m crying… But not from sadness.” You said, blushing a bit as you just happily let yourself into his arms, with him just shocked and struggling to thinn of what to do.

“I love you, sarang.” You said to his ear as he blushed, but he turned around to prevent you seeing that. “I-I do too, okay..? Now eat up.” You laughed a bit and shook your head, deciding to stay in his arms for a bit longer.

“Just… A few more minutes like this wouldn’t hurt.” You said, burying your face on the crook of his neck. “Just don’t ever worry me like that… Why were you two even that close?!” You said refering to the pictures of him and Hae-In that appeared on the media.

“Oh- She’s really strong, but clumsy. She fell while we took down a boss and she sprained her ankle, had to carry her back.” You blushed as you now realized how you jumped to conclusions, simply staying quiet as you felt the shame falling on you by your previous behaviour.

“I-I’m sorry… Didn’t know that-” You blushed as he laughed a bit, just letting you hide in his arm. “Don’t worry about it, just eat.” He said as you nodded, reminding yourself now that you didn’t have anything to worry about.

[noharaaa]

𝒮𝓌𝒶𝓃𝙋𝙪𝙣𝙠: 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘍𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 (sneak peek)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Josephine Jameson! Fem!Spider-Ballerina OC!

Author’s Note: A glimpse of Jobie's first official meeting shown here. This is a draft version, so the actual material may alter from this but still have the same general idea once I release it.

This beautiful spider OC belongs to anon tagged below. Please check out their blog if you haven’t yet. They post a wonderful Jobie art.

⠀͓ ��˚‧⁺ @qirarey123 ╰┄ི͙┈ 𖡼࿔

Enjoy Reading!

╰᭡⿴༘͜─𖧷̷۪۪᪇ ༘᪇𖧷̷۪۪⃟ꦽ⃟:: ᰰ۪۪꧇⿴༘⃕▦᰷᰷ᰰ

The constant flow of self-doubts and criticisms that surged through Josephine's mind was unrelenting, refusing to allow her to find fulfilment in anything she did.

Whenever she tried to accomplish something, there was always a voice there to remind her of her mistakes, her shortcomings, her inadequacies.

Failure. Never good enough.

And so, once again, Josephine found herself sinking in a hopeless spiral of self-sabotage, drowning in a sea of her own negativity...

Why can’t I be perfect? Why can’t I be enough? Why do I even try? Why can’t I just….-

“You got some jacked-up footwear, innit, little miss?“

The unexpected remark quickly jolted the poor dancer out of her self-pitying thoughts, catching her completely off guard. She whirls her head around to face whomever had spoken, her brain still fogged up from everything that had just happened. She wasn't even sure if she'd heard correctly,

“My footwear…what?”

There you go. She has no idea what he had just said.

Despite the gloomy atmosphere, her eyes are drawn towards the man's exceptional stature. He's leaning right next to the doorway, arms and legs crossed as he gazes at her from a distance. His height is added by the impressive volume of his hair, creating an overall imposing aura. However, his appearance is nothing compared to the weight of her own troubles, which continue to press down on her.

Josephine is taken aback from the sudden approach, still slightly confused until she spots him eyeing her shoes. She follows his gaze, looking down to the soles of her feet.

Her pointe shoes are completely worn out.

She sighs, acknowledging their horrible condition yet again before looking back up at him.

She is so done.

“What, you’re not gonna respond with any zingers? Come on, have a bit of backbone, I don’t bite.” He smirked, “Well, at least I don’t bite hard anyway.”

Her head tilts slightly in uncertainty as she raises an eyebrow. His speech is happening so quickly that she begins to notice it. It was hard for her to understand nearly everything he said just now considering his heavy accent.

“I’m sorry…what???”

“I said I don’t bite. Do I actually need to slow down for you? Or would that hurt that spider-pride of yours?”

As it only takes her a few lengthy seconds to absorb his response to her head, she narrows her gaze once more, “What is that supposed to mean? And what does pride have to do with hearing?”

Perhaps this man was right about her... She'd been so consumed in her own thoughts and issues that she hadn't even realized that her shoes were practically falling apart. Now, as she gazes down at them in humiliation, she can't help but be caught off-guard by his boldness.

He leans back against the wall, shifting his footing slightly to get more comfortable as he replies,

“The joke. It just whizzed right over… nevermind. Listen, I don’t wanna get your little spider-brain all twisted like those shoes of yours. But, it looks like you’ve been stomping through a forest of thorns, bruv.”

A few seconds would pass as Josephine ponders what to say. It is hard to get a good read on him. He appears to be messing with her. Judging by the tone of his voice, she can sense that he’s trying to get a rise out of her.

She narrowed her eyes, annoyed at him once again for bringing it up. After a few short seconds of silence she spoke,

“What is it with you and my shoes? Like, who even cares?”

“I cares, Frenchie. You can't be runnin' away from a stinker like this with them ratty clown shoes. What, you gonna be scuttling off in one direction while your shoes take off in the other? Bloody hell mate..."

Josephine is now visibly irritated by his persistence, despite the faint feeling of amusement seeping through the cracks of her frustrations, "And it's not that big of a deal, I can literally just get a new pair of shoes, okay? ….Merde.”

Il se prend pour qui, cet Anglais?-

"Well, I figured a ballerina like yourself would at least pay more attention to her footwork! But in all seriousness, your shoes are so worn out, they look less like pointe shoes and more like point...less...shoes..."

Wow.

Her own laugh surprises her a little.

It happened so suddenly, he caught her off guard.

She looks down at them again and notices a few more details he hadn't mentioned. As it was, her shoes looked more like something you'd see at a dumpster dive than in a ballet studio. After a quick glance back up at the man. She was still kind of mad though, only because he made her laugh this time.

Her sudden reaction makes him smirk even more.

"You're supposed to be pissed, not laughing at my dumb jokes, Twinkle Toes."

She flashes a tiny grin, locking eyes with him once more as she states, “Well maybe your jokes are stupid enough that I cant get mad.”

"Good. I don't want you to get all upset. You’ve already got enough on your plate with those nasty shoes of yours."

Maybe she should focus on not stepping on anymore thorns.

╰᭡⿴༘͜─𖧷̷۪۪᪇ ༘᪇𖧷̷۪۪⃟ꦽ⃟:: ᰰ۪۪꧇⿴༘⃕▦᰷᰷ᰰ

Let me know if you would like to be on the tag list!

[absentlurker]

Steve is always here, Eddie notices. He’s honestly not sure when the guy leaves to sleep, eat and do all the human basic needs.

He’s just always there when he wakes up and he’s there when he passes out after a dose of morphine. When he’s pain free for just a little while.

Eddie’s been bed ridden since he woke up after the demon bat storm. I’m honestly part mummy at this point, Eddie thinks to himself with slight humor. He’s honestly feeling kind of overwhelmed today. Steve looks up from his crossword and notices the curve in his lips.

“What are you smiling about?” Steve asks with a smile of his own on his face. Eddie rolls his head towards and pulls a face.

“I’m nothing like Zombie Boy, you know? I’m just Mummy Man laid up in bed like this.” Steve huffs and it seems fond, Eddie thinks in the very back of his mind which what? Steve rolls his eyes, “you won’t always be Mummy Man. Soon, you’ll be Scar Man with a sick made up story just like me.” Steve winks at him and does a dumb finger gun with his free hand.

His face drops a little when Eddie just stares at him for a moment before Eddie carefully places a hand over his eyes wary of the bandages on his face. He can feel the warm rush of tears building in his eyes. He hears Steve take a quick breath in before that awful hospital chair scrapes on the floor. Eddie knows he’s hovering.

“Eddie, Eddie, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He feels Steve’s hand gently brush against his wrist and Eddie couldn’t stop the sob when he inhales sharply. Steve’s hands are darting back and forth from Eddie’s hair, his shoulders and his arms as he quietly tries to comfort him as Eddie presses his hand tighter against his eyes as he descends into deeper, heavier sobs.

It hurts to cry, Eddie thinks a little hysterically, but I think I needed to. He doesn’t know how long his lays there, shaking with tears dripping down his face but when he finally removes his hand the first thing he sees is Steve still hovering over him. His hands though are gentle as they stroke his hair back. He magically gets a tissue and starts wiping Eddie’s tear away. He looks so sad, Eddie notes as he looks over Steve’s face.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry…I just opened my big mouth and I made it worse and I’-,” Eddie interrupts him by quietly hushing him. Steve blinks down at him.

“I’m so grateful for you, man.” Eddie watches Steve’s eyes widen and a light flush crawl onto his face. Steve’s hand pauses on his face. “I would literally be drowning in pain and self-pity and how the world sucks and-“ Eddie sucks in a quick breath before continuing, “then there’s you.” We’re making some serious eye-contact right now, Eddie wildly thinks to himself but he can’t stop looking at him.

“You’re here every single day. I literally have no idea when you sleep or eat or anything because you are always here with me and I haven’t told you how much I appreciate you being here with me. Making shitty jokes, “ Steve rolls his eyes again with a small smile which makes Eddie grin, “and just making me feel like I’m not alone. That I’m not just rotting here in this hospital bed and people do care.”

“Eddie! So many people care! Your uncle, Dustin-“

Eddie shakes his head gently before grasping Steve’s arm. “It’s important to me that you care.” Eddie admits and he honestly doesn’t know where this bravery is coming from, what the fuck. Steve drops his head with a groan and says, “who the fuck knew you were so smooth, Mummy Man?” Eddie almost chokes on the laugh that comes out. “Wha- I mean it!”

Steve chuckles as he tosses the tissues into the trash can before turning back and smiling at him…beaming? Is this what people call beaming? Eddie wonders softly.

“I do care about you. I care about you a lot.” Steve admits quietly. He brushes Eddie’s curls back. Eddie can feel his own face flushing. “And I’ll be here until I can help you walk out of here.” Steve watched him for a moment before he asks hesitantly, “then maybe we could go on a date?”

Eddie is full on blushing. He knows he is. His face is literally on fire. Oh, God. I’m such a fucking loser, Eddie grips to himself. He still lets a smile take over his face though as he says, “Hell yeah, man.”

Steve’s laugh is something I want to hear for the rest of my life, is the quiet confession Eddie thinks to himself as he relaxes into his awful hospital bed to spend another day with Steve.

FIN

Y’all, I’m so sick with the flu (the flu, can you believe?) and I wrote this cause I’m projecting myself onto Eddie after I was watching a tiktok, laughing so hard when it somehow turned into legit sobs. Just bawled my eyes out for 5 minutes.

Anyway.

Thanks for reading! Ok byeeeee!

[jinkoh]

everything's just a game to me. ready? i'm about to play

undefeated

sunwoo x gn!reader

tags: angst, hopeful ending, injuries/blood, mentions of (gun) violence, implied to be some kinda dark mafia type au, y/n is a badass; SFW

wordcount: 720

a/n: sunwoo's "last words" in lock ep. 2 didn't have to hit as hard as they did but here we are so have a drabble about it

Masterlist

If there was one person Sunwoo trusted, it was himself. It didn’t matter who let him down or betrayed him, because Sunwoo knew he would make it out alive. People would call it arrogance or foolishness, but he knew it was just well-deserved confidence. He was as invincible with a gun as he was with his brains, so what could possibly frighten him?

A lot, as it turned out. Blood, for one, if it was his own in an alarming amount, or worse: yours.  He hadn't thought it would frighten him. He hadn't thought he was attached to or afraid of losing you either because he wasn’t that type of person. Sunwoo knew the world to be cruel and selfish and he had no intention of making it a better place. Life was a game that everyone had to play but Sunwoo played to win. And if that meant he had to cheat, so be it. Every man for himself. 

Except, now that you were sitting next to him on the dusty floor, one hand on your gun and the other pressing onto your shoulder wound to stop the bleeding, he realized that you were the one person he didn't want to sacrifice. Or maybe he’d already realized that when he’d jumped into the crossfire to save you, rather than escaping himself. It was so out of character, it would have been amusing if he wasn’t suffering from severe blood loss right now. The two of you had found shelter for the moment, but it was just the calm before the storm. Or perhaps it would end less eventful than that, maybe he’d quietly bleed out before the storm could reach. That kind of ending seemed even more humiliating, but maybe it was what he deserved. Maybe his confidence had been foolish arrogance after all and this was his karma. He let out a sigh and he could hear the way his own breath was rattling in his lungs. It wasn’t looking good for him. 

“You should go,” he whispered. “There’s still a chance for you to make it.”

You turned to look at him and even through his swimming vision he could see the discontent on your face.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you hissed and Sunwoo couldn’t understand for the life of him how he deserved this kind of loyalty. He had nothing to give and so much to take, and yet you stayed by his side.

He let his head drop back against the wall and even though it was just a small impact, it made his body jolt in pain. “This sucks.”

“Well, I could imagine better situations to be in too.”

“You could be in a better situation if you just—”

“So could you,” you interrupted firmly, “if you hadn’t jumped out to save me.”

He let out a rattly chuckle. “Yeah, I don’t know what overcame me. Still, this is pretty frustrating.” The smoke and dust in the building made his eyes teary, or maybe it was his disappointment or the realization that, in the face of death, he actually felt scared. 

“See,” he continued, “I always believed that no matter what game I played, I would survive until the end. I thought I would make it. It would have been good to die proudly, but now that I’ve so clearly reached my limit, I’m stuck wondering if I overestimated myself. Perhaps I’d just been lucky all this time.”

It was pathetic to drown in self-pity like this, but he couldn't help himself. It was like everything he'd believed to be true about himself, about the world had, come crumbling down.

“You’re being dramatic.” You didn’t look at him but Sunwoo could see how glassy your eyes were even from your profile. The smoke, he tried to remind himself, just the smoke. 

“Maybe. But I was serious though, you should go. At least you should make it out of here.”

“Oh, I’m going to.” Your grip around your gun visibly tightened. When you turned to meet his gaze there was pure determination in your eyes and none of the overwhelming fear that Sunwoo was feeling. “We’re going to. Maybe you've reached the limit of what you can do by yourself. But you're not by yourself right now. And I am far from being defeated.”

Masterlist

[inmyaera]

“I Can’t Help but Hate to Love You”

A poem by Aera Wilder

I couldn’t imagine dying and all the consequences that would follow

I couldn’t imagine being alive and my hardest choice being a pill to swallow

I could imagine you sitting in your room thinking of anything but me

Your callus fists of speech impediments hit so hard

My eyes, once innocently upturned, forced to melt down my face, bruised irrevocably

I hate the way I love you and I hate the way you think of that word

I hate how through all my inhabitable rage, I still seek for a place within you and myself to cling

I fear the fear of consequence of me confronting the tact

I fear the fear of being called out for this act

One time you yelled and called me mean

I guess I was wrong for expecting you to feel seen

But I’ll never know how good it feels to have a friend go the extra mile to help you along the isolating road of your own development

Now we’re at the crossroads and you’ve contorted my words, once insightful and eloquent

You thought life was merely two sides of a coin

Hands tied at 2 bleak choices, inherently good or bad

You were right to feel you had no right to pay me back

So you had no choice but to be consumed with angst and show some

And now I’m laying in my coffin writing a stupid poem

I fermented your marrow spine as self righteous melodies drove by

I drowned out the noise of pity and regret

To now face my fear and wallow in misery caused by your outrageous neglect

[mystichanjumin]

Cynefin - Diavolo x reader

Pairing: Diavolo x F! Mc (Reader)

Tags: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions

Summary: Diavolo has been busy the past few days, meaning that Mc has been left to worry about the young prince in silence. However, when she gets a call from Barbatos requesting that she visits the castle in order to make Diavolo take a break she eagerly agrees. As the pair take a stroll through the castle garden Mc (accidentally) reveals how deeply she cares for the young prince.

Cynefin: (n.) A place that feels like home

            Mc knocked on Diavolo’s office door and waited for a response. Mc pressed her ear to the door, ignoring Barbatos’ look of amusement, and listened for any movement from the other side. She heard pacing and what sounded like the young prince muttering to himself. Mc knocked again, this time calling out to the young prince, “Dia, it’s me, can I come in?”

            Mc waited again, and when it seemed like he wasn’t going to answer the door she raised her fist to knock a third time, but it wasn’t necessary. Diavolo opened the door just as her fist was about to make contact.

            She noticed the slight blush dusting Diavolo’s cheeks and the tips of his ears but decided not to comment on it. “M-Mc, what are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you but this is unexpected. Was there something you needed? Is everything alright?”

            “I haven’t seen you in a few days and Barbatos said you were busy, so I wanted to stop by and see if there was anything I can help you with,” she smiled at the man before her and was sure that her own cheeks mirrored that of his. She hesitated before continuing, “I also wanted to make sure that you were okay. I was getting worried when I didn’t see you and you weren’t answering my texts or my calls…not that you have to or anything, but you usually do.”

            Diavolo looked stunned, the slight blush now a deeper color, and cleared his throat before responding, “I apologize, Mc, I didn’t mean to ignore you I’ve just been very busy these past few days,” before she could interject he continued, “but it looks like I’m in a good enough spot to take a break if you would like to join me for a walk in the garden?”

            “I would love to,” she smiled.

            “Excellent,” Diavolo smiled. “Barbatos, do you mind preparing tea for us once we’re done with our walk.”

            Mc glanced at the butler with a sheepish look, she had forgotten he was there once Diavolo had arrived. However, from the bemused look he gave her, it didn’t look like Barbatos minded. He bowed at the prince, “As you wish, young prince,” and took his leave.

            Now that the pair was alone Diavolo’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but it was clear that the man was distressed. It wasn’t uncommon for Mc to see Diavolo stressed, he was the ruler of a realm for heaven’s sake, but this was on another level. For the first time, Diavolo seemed like a millennium-old being and it made Mc’s heart sink. No matter how much she tried to understand him there would always be a part of him that she couldn’t access, and that realization hurt.

            Seeming to take notice of Mc’s change in demeanor Diavolo stepped out of his office and shut the door. He offered his arm to her with a smile, “Shall we?”

            She pushed aside her feelings; she was here to make Diavolo feel better and that is what she chose to focus on instead—she can drown in her self-pity later. Mc snaked her arm through his and flashed him a bright smile, “Let’s go!”

            As the pair made their way to the garden Mc could feel Diavolo unwind as they spoke. Mc detailed the past few days and Diavolo hang onto every word. It had become commonplace for the two to share a phone call at the end of the day to inform each other about their days. If anyone asked Diavolo would say that it was his duty to ensure his exchange student’s comfort and safety, but that was only partly true. They enjoyed each other’s company, even if it was only through a phone call.

            Once they reached the garden Diavolo let out a deep sigh, “It feels nice not being in my office.”

            “I bet,” Mc laughed. “You don’t have to tell me if you told want to, but what have you been working on? Maybe it would help you if you talked about it?”

            Diavolo ran a hand through his auburn hair, “It’s just—you know that my father’s been rather absent for some time regarding ruling the Devildom, and I’ve been trying to figure out what I’m doing with no guidance. I also have no worldly idea on how to get the people under my rule to like me—”

            “They like you,” Mc interrupted.

            Diavolo shook his head, “They fear me. That is not the same as them liking me or thinking I’ll be a good king.”

            “You’ll be a great king,” Mc stopped and faced Diavolo directly. “You care and you’re doing something no one has ever thought of because you think it’ll be good for everyone in the three realms. You’re amazing and if they can’t see that then they’re…idiots.”

            Diavolo’s eyes softened as he looked at her. Lucifer had once said that Mc was the only one Diavolo looked at this way, and Mc hoped now more than ever that it was true. He took her hands into his, “You have no idea how much that means to me, Mc. Thank you.”

            “Anytime you need to be reminded of how amazing you are, just let me know,” she joked.

            A moment of comfortable silence passed between the pair, “I’m so happy you came. I’m sure it wasn’t easy getting away from the brothers.”

            “Nothing was going to stop me from coming to see you,” Mc looked up at Diavolo and felt herself flush with embarrassment. She meant what she said, but she hadn’t meant to be so blunt with the prince.

            Mc looked into his eyes, searching for anything that would hint at any form of discomfort, but when she found none; she decided now would be as good of a time as any to express her feelings to the red-haired man. He deserved to know that there was someone who thought the world of him.

            She steeled her nerves and spoke through the lump in her throat, “You don’t have to say anything and I’m sorry if I make you uncomfortable.” She couldn’t find it in herself to look him in the eyes, so she took to staring at their still conjoined hands, “I care for you so much, Diavolo. I know that I’m a human who could never understand the millennia you’ve lived but I want to try. I want you to feel like you can share anything with me, and I don’t want you to disappear for days because you think no one will understand. Even if I don’t fully understand or if…I’m not the person you want to share your feelings with I want you to let someone know how you’re feeling.”

            “I love you, Diavolo, and you don’t have to say it back or anything like that. You are going to be an amazing king because I know you and you’re the most amazing being in all three realms. I know I’m just a stupid human and my feelings for you must seem so…insignificant compared to all the lifetimes you’ve lived, but I had to let you know that someone thinks the world of you. I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable—."

            Diavolo silenced her rambling with a kiss. It was urgent and desperate as if he had waited his whole life for this. Mc returned the kiss with fervor. She cupped his face as Diavolo pulled her closer to himself.

            Diavolo pulled away and rested his forehead on Mc’s, “I have loved you since the first week you arrived at Devildom. You were thrust into an insane scenario, and you remained so levelheaded and brave. At every turn you defied every expectation placed upon you and you did so with grace and kindness in your heart. It would have been selfish of me to not only take you from the mortal realm but to then ask you to love me in return so I said nothing as I watched those brothers fawn for your affection. It's true that I have lived countless lifetimes but never have I ever met a being like you. You are the most beautiful being I have ever had the privilege of laying my eyes upon. To be able to love you would it be the greatest privilege of my immortal life. If you will have me, I will be yours until the day all three realms fall.”

            “I am already yours,” Mc whispered before returning her lips to his. Wherever Diavolo was, Mc knew that she had found the place she belonged—she was home.

[arcaneorphic]

Cynefin - Diavolo x F! Mc (Reader)

    

Pairing: Diavolo x F! Mc (Reader)

Tags: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions 

Summary: Diavolo has been busy the past few days, meaning that Mc has been left to worry about the young prince in silence. However, when she gets a call from Barbatos requesting that she visits the castle in order to make Diavolo take a break she eagerly agrees. As the pair take a stroll through the castle garden Mc (accidentally) reveals how deeply she cares for the young prince.

Cynefin: (n.) A place that feels like home

            Mc knocked on Diavolo’s office door and waited for a response. Mc pressed her ear to the door, ignoring Barbatos’ look of amusement, and listened for any movement from the other side. She heard pacing and what sounded like the young prince muttering to himself. Mc knocked again, this time calling out to the young prince, “Dia, it’s me, can I come in?”

            Mc waited again, and when it seemed like he wasn’t going to answer the door she raised her fist to knock a third time, but it wasn’t necessary. Diavolo opened the door just as her fist was about to make contact.

            She noticed the slight blush dusting Diavolo’s cheeks and the tips of his ears but decided not to comment on it. “M-Mc, what are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you but this is unexpected. Was there something you needed? Is everything alright?”

            “I haven’t seen you in a few days and Barbatos said you were busy, so I wanted to stop by and see if there was anything I can help you with,” she smiled at the man before her and was sure that her own cheeks mirrored that of his. She hesitated before continuing, “I also wanted to make sure that you were okay. I was getting worried when I didn’t see you and you weren’t answering my texts or my calls…not that you have to or anything, but you usually do.”

            Diavolo looked stunned, the slight blush now a deeper color, and cleared his throat before responding, “I apologize, Mc, I didn’t mean to ignore you I’ve just been very busy these past few days,” before she could interject he continued, “but it looks like I’m in a good enough spot to take a break if you would like to join me for a walk in the garden?”

            “I would love to,” she smiled.

            “Excellent,” Diavolo smiled. “Barbatos, do you mind preparing tea for us once we’re done with our walk.”

            Mc glanced at the butler with a sheepish look, she had forgotten he was there once Diavolo had arrived. However, from the bemused look he gave her, it didn’t look like Barbatos minded. He bowed at the prince, “As you wish, young prince,” and took his leave.

            Now that the pair was alone Diavolo’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but it was clear that the man was distressed. It wasn’t uncommon for Mc to see Diavolo stressed, he was the ruler of a realm for heaven’s sake, but this was on another level. For the first time, Diavolo seemed like a millennium-old being and it made Mc’s heart sink. No matter how much she tried to understand him there would always be a part of him that she couldn’t access, and that realization hurt.

            Seeming to take notice of Mc’s change in demeanor Diavolo stepped out of his office and shut the door. He offered his arm to her with a smile, “Shall we?”

            She pushed aside her feelings; she was here to make Diavolo feel better and that is what she chose to focus on instead—she can drown in her self-pity later. Mc snaked her arm through his and flashed him a bright smile, “Let’s go!”

            As the pair made their way to the garden Mc could feel Diavolo unwind as they spoke. Mc detailed the past few days and Diavolo hang onto every word. It had become commonplace for the two to share a phone call at the end of the day to inform each other about their days. If anyone asked Diavolo would say that it was his duty to ensure his exchange student’s comfort and safety, but that was only partly true. They enjoyed each other’s company, even if it was only through a phone call.

            Once they reached the garden Diavolo let out a deep sigh, “It feels nice not being in my office.”

            “I bet,” Mc laughed. “You don’t have to tell me if you told want to, but what have you been working on? Maybe it would help you if you talked about it?”

            Diavolo ran a hand through his auburn hair, “It’s just—you know that my father’s been rather absent for some time regarding ruling the Devildom, and I’ve been trying to figure out what I’m doing with no guidance. I also have no worldly idea on how to get the people under my rule to like me—”

            “They like you,” Mc interrupted.

            Diavolo shook his head, “They fear me. That is not the same as them liking me or thinking I’ll be a good king.”

            “You’ll be a great king,” Mc stopped and faced Diavolo directly. “You care and you’re doing something no one has ever thought of because you think it’ll be good for everyone in the three realms. You’re amazing and if they can’t see that then they’re…idiots.”

            Diavolo’s eyes softened as he looked at her. Lucifer had once said that Mc was the only one Diavolo looked at this way, and Mc hoped now more than ever that it was true. He took her hands into his, “You have no idea how much that means to me, Mc. Thank you.”

            “Anytime you need to be reminded of how amazing you are, just let me know,” she joked.

            A moment of comfortable silence passed between the pair, “I’m so happy you came. I’m sure it wasn’t easy getting away from the brothers.”

            “Nothing was going to stop me from coming to see you,” Mc looked up at Diavolo and felt herself flush with embarrassment. She meant what she said, but she hadn’t meant to be so blunt with the prince.

            Mc looked into his eyes, searching for anything that would hint at any form of discomfort, but when she found none; she decided now would be as good of a time as any to express her feelings to the red-haired man. He deserved to know that there was someone who thought the world of him.

            She steeled her nerves and spoke through the lump in her throat, “You don’t have to say anything and I’m sorry if I make you uncomfortable.” She couldn’t find it in herself to look him in the eyes, so she took to staring at their still conjoined hands, “I care for you so much, Diavolo. I know that I’m a human who could never understand the millennia you’ve lived but I want to try. I want you to feel like you can share anything with me, and I don’t want you to disappear for days because you think no one will understand. Even if I don’t fully understand or if…I’m not the person you want to share your feelings with I want you to let someone know how you’re feeling.”

            “I love you, Diavolo, and you don’t have to say it back or anything like that. You are going to be an amazing king because I know you and you’re the most amazing being in all three realms. I know I’m just a stupid human and my feelings for you must seem so…insignificant compared to all the lifetimes you’ve lived, but I had to let you know that someone thinks the world of you. I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable—.“

            Diavolo silenced her rambling with a kiss. It was urgent and desperate as if he had waited his whole life for this. Mc returned the kiss with fervor. She cupped his face as Diavolo pulled her closer to himself.

            Diavolo pulled away and rested his forehead on Mc’s, “I have loved you since the first week you arrived at Devildom. You were thrust into an insane scenario, and you remained so levelheaded and brave. At every turn you defied every expectation placed upon you and you did so with grace and kindness in your heart. It would have been selfish of me to not only take you from the mortal realm but to then ask you to love me in return so I said nothing as I watched those brothers fawn for your affection. It’s true that I have lived countless lifetimes but never have I ever met a being like you. You are the most beautiful being I have ever had the privilege of laying my eyes upon. To be able to love you would it be the greatest privilege of my immortal life. If you will have me, I will be yours until the day all three realms fall.”

            “I am already yours,” Mc whispered before returning her lips to his. Wherever Diavolo was, Mc knew that she had found the place she belonged—she was home.

Masterlist

[suffersinfandom]

gifset by seraph-novak

So there’s a critique of this scene (and Ed in season two as a whole) that I haven’t been able to shake. The post went into how the whole mermaid sequence was ruined by the rest of the season -- about how this beautiful scene was, put in the context of Ed’s behavior in the rest of season two, an ominous rebirth of a villain. The writer couldn’t see Ed as a protagonist finding the will to live; they saw a monster getting another chance to terrorize his victims.

I really hate that. I’ve already typed way too much about how I don’t think that Ed is abusive or that the Kraken Era was all that bad, so of course I disagree with any take that characterizes Ed as a monster. But do you know why this post stuck with me?

It made me unreasonably sad.

There’s a danger in over-identifying with characters (and I do think that a lot of the tension in OFMD fandom comes from over-identification), but it’s so easy for me to understand what Ed’s going through in the first three episodes of season two. I’ve been there. Judging by this post, many of us have been where Ed is. 

We’ve struggled to live while we’re drowning. We’ve been trapped and hopeless and desperate for a reason to keep going -- for someone to give us hope that things can be better. 

And we’ve also hurt people in our despair. 

When I was in my Kraken Era, I was a sick college student who’d been fighting depression since middle school. I’d just escaped a “friendship” with someone who (I can admit in retrospect) abused me mentally and emotionally, and I had no other friends because that person had effectively isolated me. I was alone and I was convinced that I was a fundamentally unlovable person who had no right to exist. 

I pushed the few people I had around me away. I isolated myself from my mother as much as I could while living in her house. I cut off communication with my online acquaintances (who would later become good friends) and didn’t speak to anyone at school. For a while, I was so focused on my pain and self hatred that I barely thought about other people. It was an intensely selfish and self-centered existence, and I hurt my mom and everyone who could’ve been a friend. When you're in that desperately hopeless, depressed mindset, you don't care about hurting people because your own pain is so all-consuming. If anything, you want to hurt others so they'll give up on you in the same way you've given up on yourself.

It’s different from what Ed did, of course, because he’s not me and I wasn’t a pirate captain with the lives of a crew in my hands. The harm I could cause was severely limited by my lack of power, but I still caused it. I was still trying to isolate and cut ties and push away anyone who could’ve helped me even when I desperately wanted help. I wasn’t a good person.

Watching Ed go through a self-destructive arc that’s immediately identifiable, deeply personal, and so well done was incredible, and seeing the show support him instead of demonizing his behavior? I have no words for the way I felt during season two’s run. 

OFMD makes Ed a sympathetic character who’s worth loving even when he’s at his lowest. It gives us a lead who fucks up when he’s in the depths of his despair and it doesn’t pity him or wave away his problems or make a monster out of him. It doesn’t even have his romantic interest save him! Instead, it lets Ed save himself when he realizes that there’s still hope and love out there. 

This show reminded me that we’re not monsters even if we’ve hurt people. It told me that recovery is possible, and so is forgiveness. It asked me to keep loving Ed through his entire arc, and in doing that, it forced me to love the parts of me that I’m still working on as well.

So I know that I shouldn’t be bothered by people who see season two Ed as an irredeemable monster who gets an undeserved second shot at life, y’know? But even though I’m a decade and a half out of my own Kraken Era, I’m still in a perpetual state of recovery. There’s always a persistent doubt -- a suspicion that there’s a fundamental flaw in me that no amount of therapy will fix -- and that doubt latched onto some random person’s conviction that Ed is a monster. It says, If Ed will always be a monster, what about you?

And I know that voice is wrong because it’s always been a liar. I know that it doesn’t matter that some portion of the fanbase turned on Ed in season two because that man isn’t real and he’s not me. I know that, for people who haven’t experienced something that was reflected in Ed’s arc, it might be difficult to sympathize with him (and with real life people who blow their lives up in their despair). 

There will always be people who don’t understand or can’t empathize with that kind of desperate hopelessness, but there are also many, many people who get it… and some of those people were clearly in season two's writer’s room. Some of those people are in this fandom.

I guess what I’m getting at is this: I hope that, if you saw yourself in Ed’s early season two story, you know that you’re not a monster and you’re not a villain in someone else’s story, no matter what anyone else says. I hope you know that you’re worthy of love. 

I hope you know you’re not alone.

[strangerthingsstuff4]

A Story of Another Us- Chapter Three

Metal cutlery scraping off the China plates did little to drown out the laughter that filled the kitchen. Everyone crowded around the small table enjoying the company and the Zucchini and sausage casserole that Alicent had made from scratch for them. The mood was light as the stories flowed between them all.

‘So then Hel figures that I would love to be woken up to see the new spider she had caught and shoved the thing right in my face’ Aegon grinned, Haelena giggling uncontrollably at the memory.

‘You screamed like a little girl’ She added, holding her stomach from laughing.

‘Don’t worry Aegon I’ve been there too, every little insect in our dorm needs to be thoroughly inspected and cared for’ Dahlia chuckled, loving to see how their family enjoyed each other’s company.

Everyone had been sharing old stories and good times, everyone but Aemond. He had offered a few small smiles to stories that involved him or a quiet hum of acknowledgement but nothing more. Though Dahlia had avoided his direction purposely for the majority of the evening she had caught his eye line a few times. His bright iris’ staring back at her own, only for a second before one of them would look away uncomfortably. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking and it annoyed the hell out of her, his face was so unreadable.

‘Goodnight sweetheart’ Alicent smiled as Aemond stood, placing his plate in the dishwasher and heading for the door.

‘Night’ he mumbled, disappearing out of the room.

‘I’m gonna head up too’ Aegon yawned, stretching in his chair.

‘Not a chance, it’s your turn to load the dishwasher’ Haelena grinned, stopping her brother from standing up with a death grip on his arm.

While Aegon wallowed in self-pity of having to help tidy, Dahlia put the leftovers in the fridge and retreated to bed herself, a nice hot shower awaiting her. She had made sure everything was ready waiting for her, soap shampoo, nice dry clothes. All she needed was a towel and Haelena had told her there was some fresh cotton towels in the airing cupboard outside of her room. The thing Haelena had failed to mention was that they were on the top shelf, even on her tip toes she had no chance. As she rested her neck back on her shoulders looking up at the fabric she almost debated trying to scale the side of the cupboard, that was until the door at the other end of the landing opened, catching her attention.

Without saying a word Aemond walked out of his room, in nothing but a pair of gym shorts. His toned torso was only made all the more graceful by his pale complexion. She had noticed how tall and broad he was but underneath all the layers he wore she hadn’t seen any sign of his abs or larger muscular arms. He walked right up to her and leant up over her, grabbing a thick towel of the shelf and holding it out to her. A mix of cologne and shower gel radiated off his skin into her nose, the smell so heavenly she almost rolled her eyes back. She hadn’t realised how obvious she had been staring until Aemond cleared his throat, snapping her out of her daze and bringing a hot deep blush onto her cheeks.

‘Thanks’ she mumbled quietly, rushing back into her room and shutting the door in embarrassment and missing this little smirk that pulled at Aemond’s mouth.

The hot shower did nothing to flush the feeling of humiliation from her body, she may as well have been drooling over him. Just because he had a nice body did not make him any less of an asshole. Hair washed and body scrubbed Dahlia left the steam filled en-suite and sat on her bed platting her unbrushed locks, playing the words Alicent had said to her over and over. There was a job here if she wanted it, was she being serious when she had said that or was she just filling her head with hope to be ‘nice’? Dahlia had dreamed of a life where she could live and work on a farm, somewhere she could care for the animals and make a difference. She wanted it so badly; she deserved it after all of the hard work she had put in but she dare not let herself believe that it could be that easy for her. Nothing was ever that easy. She could still imagine though, she climbed under the covers and played that life out in her head, how it would feel to wake up here every morning. After drifting off with that wonderful scene in her head it was almost like a dream walking up.

Not wanting to risk getting lost in a new area Dahlia had passed on her morning run the day before but after three homemade meals already she felt she needed it. Alicent’s cooking had her waddling from the table every time, she wasn’t used to eating so well, usually settling for microwave meals or ordering from the takeaway diner that was on the corner opposite her dorm building. She had been almost giddy to slip on her running shoes and large hoodie before leaving the front door and starting off on a slow-paced walk for her warmup. She took a right off the Ranch and figured she would do a loop at whatever junctions she came across, helping Aegon and Haelena out in the fields the day before had helped her navigate the surrounding fields a little easier.

The fresh country air was just the wake up call she needed, the cool breeze and the sounds of nature almost cleansed her. Dahlia’s mind wandered through many things on her morning runs, from what brand of steel toe cap wellies could take the weigh of a cows hoof the best, to what the first home made meal was going to be when she got her own house. Today however her mind was packed with images of Aemond walking down that hallway towards her, topless and toned. How his muscles moved with every step he took towards her, how his long her had hung over his shoulders resting against his chest. She wondered what his chest would feel like under her hands, on her back… against her lips.

Shaking her head she cleared her mind, she couldn’t think of him like that, he was her best friend’s brother. He was off limits to her and her train of thought, him and his stupidly perfect body. Dahlia winced a little looking down her running shoes that were now covered in mud where they had once been pristine white.

She passed fields full with cows and sheep and some even just packed with hay. A few stray rabbits ran across the road a few feet in front of her and she even saw a small fox heading back to its burrow, it was like being in a fairy tale with nature all around her. Dahlia never wanted to leave; she could happily spend the rest of her life on that farm. Before she knew it Dahlia was walking past a familiar field back towards the entrance of Dragonstone ranch, the sun almost fully of the horizon now. As she passed the field a small cry caught her ear, Dahlia stopped and listened for it again. She followed it over to the other side of the road and there stuck in the small trench between the road and the field was a small calf. The cow looked up at her and cried again for help, it’s mother stood not far mooing at her too, Dahlia knew she had no chance of moving the poor thing by herself and she was going to need some help so off she took on a jog again back towards the farm. Running through the entrance and towards the stable, straight to the only person she knew would be awake.

Aemond was gently brushing over a large black stallion when she walked into the door, breathing heavily from her fast-paced pursuit of him.

‘Hey… I need your help… there’s… there’s a calf stuck’ She struggled to get out with her heavy breathing.

Aemond just looked at her like she was a crazy person, her hair all frizzy and fraying out of her braids, her chest heaving and her feet all muddy.

‘I’ll show you’ she resorted to after a moment of silence.

Not sure of whether he would follow her or not she walked out of the barn and back towards the entrance of the field. Happy to see that he was trailing behind her, Dahlia led him over the grass and past the herd of cows that had grouped together grazing at the far fence. She heard him grumble something as he avoids a cow pat and she chuckled a little looking back at him.

‘Why don’t you like cows? They’re so gentle’ she smiles over her shoulder at him, trying to lighten the heavy mood between them.

‘They are useless shit stinking holes’ he replied disregarding her attempt at some light conversation.

Dahlia stopped at the edge of the field right where the barbed wire fence had split and allowed the cow to get stuck. Aemond looked over at the animal and shook his head.

‘Example A’ he huffed

‘We need to lift her out I can grab the back an-‘ Dahlia began  as she rolled up her sleeve, ready to jump down into the ditch.

‘We’re not gonna be able to lift her she’ll be to heavy’ Aemond sighed, turning on his feet and beginning back across the grass.

‘So what? We just leave her down there?!’ Dahlia asked, shocked that he was so dismissive of the situation.

‘Yeah for my lazy ass brother to deal with’ he yelled back over his shoulder.

‘We can’t just leave her Aemond’

‘Hey I deal with the horses okay! Aegon handles this shit’ Aemond turned abruptly, emphasizing his words by pointing at the calf aggressively.

‘I am getting this calf back up to its mother with or without your help! And it would be a hell of a lot easier with’ Dahlia shouted back angrily, sitting herself on the ledge of earth and jumping down next to the calf.

She tried to sooth the frightened animal next to her with a gentle hand on it’s back. For a moment she had thought Aemond had actually walked away and left her to handle it on her own. Her blood boiled at how thoughtless he was being, how he would happily leave this poor baby alone and scared crying for its mother.

‘Sshh it’s okay, I’m gonna get you back up there little one’ Dahlia soothed her.

At the sound of her gentle voice Aemond stopped in his tracks of walking away from her, huffing he threw his head back onto his shoulders and looked up at the cloudy sky. She was incredibly annoying and irritating but if he didn’t go back over there and help her with this stupid cow, he would never hear the end of it. Sighing heavily Aemond turned himself around and jumped down next to her in the trench, ignoring the face splitting grin she offered him.

‘You can grab its ass, if it’s gonna shit on anyone it’s not gonna be me’ he growled.

Aemond wrapped his arms underneath the calf and watched Dahlia do the same on the other side towards the back of the calf. On his count of three they both lifted the shockingly heavy animal, Aemond using all his upper body strength to lift its front end higher until it had its front hooves planted on the grass. The calf took off running across the grass towards its mother, its hind leg kicking out and catching Dahlia in the chest. She grimaced heavily trying her hardest to not let Aemond see, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of thinking he might have been right. It was to no avail however, Aemond had lifted himself out of the ditch and leant down offering her his left hand, she had no choice but to give him hers and left him help her out. The pull of his arm on hers made her wince heavily and let out a little cry, Dahlia ignored Aemond’s worried look when she was safely on her feet. Her hand moved to hold her collarbone as it burnt with pain.

Aemond moved her hand and gently pulled her hoodie down enough for him to look down at the already forming bruise on her chest. His eyes shot to hers and Dahlia darted hers away from him.

‘I told you we should have waited!’ he grumbled at her letting go of her hoodie.

‘I’m fine’ she huffed back looking over at the calf.

‘It could have broken your collarbone!’ Aemond raised his voice slightly.

‘Yeah but look at how happy they are now!’ Dahlia disarmed him completely giving him a small smile and nodding over at where the young calf was nuzzling against its mother.

Aemond huffed and began walking away from her, Dahlia chuckled and followed him, loving how much she got to him. Aemond complained about the state of their clothes now that they were covered in mud and how he was going to kill Aegon for being a lazy prick and sleeping in. Dahlia let him grumble to himself as he plodded back towards the stables, she slipped off her shoes and left them outside the doors to the kitchen not wanting to trapse mud into the house.

Once Dahlia had changed and brushed out her hair she returned back downstairs, heading into the kitchen with her dirty clothes in hand. Haelena and Alicent were stood making breakfast for everyone, Jace, Luke and their girlfriends sat around that table, all still looking groggy from sleep.

‘Hey, how you feeling this morning?’ Haelena smiled, noticing the presence of her best friend.

‘Good! Erm is it okay if I use the washing machine?’ she asked politely.

‘Of course, it’s just through there with the dryer’ Alicent directed her, flipping the bacon over in the frying pan.

Dahlia moved into the laundry room and threw her muddy clothes into the machine with a washing pod and shut the door. As she was setting the machine, she heard the kitchen doors slide open and Aemond’s voice sounding through the room.

‘Where’s Aegon?’ he questioned.

‘He’s getting dressed to go to the wholesalers for me… what the hell happened to you?’ Alicent asked slightly shocked at his muddy appearance.

‘Ask genius here’ he griped as Dahlia appeared at his side from the laundry room.

They all looked at her in question to which Dahlia gave an awkward smile and moved to sit at the table.

‘There was a calf stuck in one of the trenches by the junction so I asked Aemond for help lifting it out’ she informed them nonchalantly.

‘You lifted a cow?!’ Luke asked stunned.

‘It was a baby’ she protested.

‘A baby that almost broke your collar bone! Take them for the pain’ Aemond added, tossing a small bottle of pain killers at her.

‘What?!’ Haelena asked panicked, immediately dropped the serving spoon she had hold of and moving over to inspect her best friend.

‘Hel I’m fine it’s a little bruise’ Dahlia dismissed her, waving her off.

‘What happened?’ Alicent questioned concerned.

‘Little twat kicked out when we lifted it and caught her in the chest’ Aemond informed his mother before exiting the room and heading up the stairs.

Dahlia threw him a look of annoyance on his way out as she had Haelena and Alicent trying to inspect the dark growing bruise on her chest.

[eggcompany]

Timmy the Bear

Ziva finds Tony regressed in the bathroom and calls McGee for help. Tony likes Timothy, a lot. Tony unhappily lets Ziva and Tim take him home but by the time they get there he's already fully regressed! Tim's caregiver instincts take over and he takes care of Tony. Very fluffy and sweet!

“Oh no. No no no.” Is all Ziva heard before she opened the door to an empty bathroom. 

“DiNozzo, what’s wrong?” The woman asked as she turned and looked for the senior agent. She heard some shuffling and she ducked to look under the stalls. She saw one foot struggling to not slip off the edge of the toilet and onto the floor. She heard a sniffle and then a swallow. 

“Tony?” She said and stood in front of the stall and knocked. 

“Z-Ziva... go away. Go away.” Tony said and cleared his throat. His voice sounded lower, like it was forced. Ziva’s eyebrows scrunched together. 

“Tony, are you alright? Abby found a fingerprint. Why have you been in here for so long?” Ziva said and looked in the cracks of the door. She saw Tony wiping at his face and looked scattered. 

“I’m fine! Go away! I don’t need help, go away!” Tony said before looking up and locking eyes with Ziva. He turned forty shades of red. Tony almost let out a whine but he flipped the lock open on the door. 

“Tony what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”  Ziva asked as she pushed open the door. She could tell something was wrong but she couldn’t put her finger on it. 

“Nothing... I’m fine.” Tony said and stood up and fixed his shirt and trousers. He pushed Ziva out of the way and washed his hands. Ziva watched him closely for a moment. But when Tony turned the water on without pulling up his sleeves Ziva knew that there was an issue. 

Tony threw his hands up in the air and let out a whine. He looked so upset. 

“I can’t do anything right! I give up!” Tony said and tears started to flow again. He sunk down onto the floor, head in his hands. Ziva walked over and crouched down in front of him. 

“What’s got you so upset? Is this- is this a classification thing? Do you need something? I’m calling Gibbs and taking you home. You cannot work like this DiNozzo.” Ziva said and pulled out her phone. Tony didn’t even argue. He had been fighting headspace all day and he was so tired and he just wanted to go home and sleep with his bear. 

“‘Kay...” was all Tony said as he pulled his knees to his chin and cried. He was uncomfortable and hot and his sleeves were wet and he was tired and life was just against him today. He had paid days off for this kind of thing, for the days he struggles to stay afloat. 

He heard Ziva speaking distantly but didn’t pay attention. He just sat on the icky bathroom floor and cried, drowning in his own self pity. 

“Tony? McGee is coming to help get you to my car.” Ziva said and rubbed at the top of Tony’s back. Tony nodded but then froze McGee

“No! No, keep McGee away! I can... I can make it to a car by myself! I don’t need Tim. I don’t want him!” Tony said quickly as he stood, wobbling. Ziva stood and grabbed a hold onto his elbow. 

“Why? Tony, why don’t you want Timothy’s help? He won’t judge you, we know you are just having an off day. Tim’s your friend, let him help.” Ziva asked and looked very confused. Tony and McGee always joke around with each other. Why was Tony being so... off?

“Don’t wan ‘im to see me! No no no!” Tony said and pulled his arms around himself. Ziva shushed him and nodded. 

“Okay, okay. Well if you think you can walk past everyone and make it through the parking lot to my car then you are free to do so. I’ll call McGee and tell him you don’t want him. One moment.” Ziva said and pulled out her phone. Tony stomped his feet out of frustration.

“Noooo I like McGee but I don wan ‘im see me all... ugly faced.” Tony said and looked at himself in the mirror. His face was all splotchy and snotty and icky from crying. He felt ugly. 

Tony always had that problem. Thinking people seen him as ugly or undesirable since few people actually liked him and not just wanted to fuck him. 

Ziva sighed. Tony’s anxiety. Of course it worsened when he was regressed. 

“I’m almost there, Ziva. One sec.” came through the phone before the ex-Mossad agent could say anything else. She looked back at Tony who had his arms wrapped around himself swaying. 

“Tony, McGee is alright here so just let him help you and let’s get you to the car. Come on.” Ziva said and tried to usher the man to the door. However Tony wasn’t budging toward the door. 

“No! No! No Timmy, no no no!” Tony said in a panic and tried to get back to the corner stall where he had first been hiding. Ziva followed him and blocked the door so it wouldn’t close but Tony was able to curl up on the toilet so nothing could've been seen. 

“Tony, you are acting out! Timothy is only trying to help you. I do not see a reason you’re not letting him help y-“ Ziva was saying in a fussing tone. She was cut short by the door being flung open. 

“Ziva? Where’s Tony? What’s going on... Tony, what’re you doing?” McGee rushed into the bathroom. All Ziva had said was “somethings wrong with Tony. Come to the bathroom, now”. Tim didn’t know what to expect. Well he definitely didn’t expect to see the senior agent crying curled up on the toilet lid. 

Tony buried his face into his hands and tried to squeeze himself into a ball. Ziva just gestured toward the regressor. 

“He said he liked you but he didn’t want you to see him but I can not handle him. He’s too big and too far gone for me to get him to my vehicle. Gibbs already gave us an okay for the day.” Ziva said and Tim watched the other man cry. 

“Tony? Anthony, are you alright? Do you need to go home to bed? You know me and Ziva can take care of you. Why don’t you just let me carry you out to the car? Would that be alright? I’ll take the back way so no one can see. Tony, are you already under?” Timothy said in a soft, kind voice. It stroked something in Tony. It always did when he spoke like that. So caring and soft. Caregiver voice. Daddy voice. 

Tony whined and wiggled a bit. He slipped just further. Almost to his deepest regression. Almost to the point of him needing a bottle. Almost to the point of him having... those urges. He barely even heard when Ziva snapped at an agent for entering the restroom. 

“Tony, please. Just let me drive you home. I just need to know you got there safe. On the way maybe you could tell me what got you so upset?” Tim asked. He was really concerned. Tony never acted like this. When he was having a day where he kept slipping he usually would just have Gibbs drive him home. Tony never has had an... outburst, like this before. 

“nonononono da-um Timmy can't see my house. Nonono. Ziva cam see house. I wanna go home!” Tony whined. He felt too much. Too much bad. He liked the younger agent, liked him a whole lot. He knew it was okay to like caregivers that were younger but still... The urge to call him daddy and depend on him made Tony feel... gross. Wrong. Everything felt wrong right then. Tony felt like his world was crumbling around him and all he wanted was his bear. 

Tony bought the bear himself. He told the cashier that it was for his nephew but no. It was a nice big brown teddy bear made from a soft polar fleece. He wanted a small lowkey toy but... it just made him feel big and awkward. Seeing the small toys in his big hands wretched him from littlespace. Plus when he saw the bear he couldn’t leave it alone. 

Now the bear sits on his bed and gets cuddled every night when he’s home. At first he didn’t have a name for it until he kinda fell for the probbie officer. So he’s Timmy the Bear. And he’s the only source of comfort in Tony’s crazy life. Timmy the bear is a constant. 

The caregiver tried to convince Ziva to just let Tony cool down before taking him home but Ziva refused. Tony needed a safe environment. A safe clean environment is what she said after McGee suggested just locking the bathroom door. 

“He’s scared, McGee. Massad took all my instincts away. You comfort him. You’re the one he likes. Has for the entire time I’ve been here. Just hold him, or something.” Ziva said frustrated and shoved McGee into the bathroom stall. 

Timothy sank to his knees in front of the regressed agent. He pulled Tony’s ankles till his legs were down. He placed his hands on Tony’s knees. 

“Tony... are you scared of me seeing your house?” Tim asked quietly in the gentle loving tone. Tony whimpered and looked up from under his eyelashes. He shook his head after a moment. 

“Okay... are you uncomfortable with me coming to your house?” Tony shook his head again and looked away. 

“Alright, good job, are you uncomfortable with me touching you?” Tony waited a moment before turning a bright red and shook his head, he never looked at McGee. 

“Can you tell me why you don’t want me to help you home?” Tony whined and wiggled. He flipped his toes over each other and sniffled. 

“don’ wanna slip and say somefing bad.” Tony mumbled into his hand that held his face. He just flashed his eyes up. Tim nodded. 

“Can you tell Ziva what you don’t want to say? Then maybe you won’t say it if you slip.” McGee suggested. He was hatching a plan. Tony nodded and looked up. 

Ziva stepped up and Tim went and stood by the door. He would be able to hear what Tony says. 

Ziva bent down so her ear was close to Tony’s face. Tony scooted forward and whispered rather loudly. 

“I don ‘anna um call Timmy Daddy on accident. I fink if I slip I’ll do it... don’t wan him think ‘m gross cause ‘m older den him.” Tony said and started to tear up again. He sniffled and rubbed his face with his sleeves. 

“That’s not gross Tony, lots of people have relationships where the Caregiver is younger. Why don’t you just let McGee take you home and if you slip he can help you. Okay?” Ziva said and looked over at McGee. Tony sniffled again and whimpered. 

“You sure he won kick me out on woad? Cam’t walk home.” Tony said and Timothy’s heart hurt. Poor baby. Ziva shook her head. 

“Timothy would never. Just let us get you home. Come now. Up.” Ziva said and Tim made his way over. 

Tony was pliant enough. He let McGee hold his hand and guide him out to the back walkways. He let McGee hold his hand the whole time they walked to Ziva’s car. 

While Tim sat in the back with Tony he let the little rest his head on his shoulder. Tony almost fell asleep. Today had been so stressful! Tony was almost asleep by the time they came up to his apartment. The car had rocked him gently into his full headspace. 

“Tony, I’m going to pick you up. You can sleep as long as you need. I’ll stay until you wake up.” Tim whispered as he pulled the barley awake agent up into his arms. Tim lifted him up like a princess or a bride. Tony tucked his arms in and nuzzled into Tim’s shirt. 

‘ Smells nice so warm so nice so gentle mine he’s mine now he takes care of me daddy daddy dada daddy ’ floated around Tony’s sleep muddled little brain. Tony hummed and smiled. He was too far gone to even register that his pockets were being ransacked by Ziva or that he was being laid down. 

He did let out a loud whine when he was pulled away from daddy though, when he was pulled away from Tim. 

He opened his eyes to look around but he just saw Tim smiling down at him. Tim and Ziva worked to quickly get him out of his shoes and jacket and slacks and button up. Soon he was left in his undershirt and his cute blue briefs that had little flowers on them. He never wore anything that outwardly showed off his classification but he did enjoy his cute little underwears. 

“Look at him. He’s so... cute. Strangely cute. Like a baby bear. I’ll scavenge for some clothes, you keep him company.” Ziva said as she put the clothes Tony had on into a basket that had other clothes in it. 

Tim nodded and looked down at the tan man on the bed. He did kind of feel the need to hold him. And wrap him up in a blanket and rock him and watch him fall asleep and kiss his head and tickle his tummy and watch him laugh. 

“Hi” Tim said and moved so he could stroke through Tony’s hair. Tony smiled and rubbed his head up against the warm hand that moved to hold his jaw and rub across his cheekbone. 

“Daddy!” Tony said and reached up and grabbed Timothy’s jacket collar. Even feeling so small he was still very strong. McGee could barely stop himself from being pulled onto the little. He ended up leaned over the little with one knee on the bed and his other foot on the floor, caging Tony in with his arms. His hands splayed out near the sides of his head. 

Tim smiled at the name. He didn’t expect Tony to just say it. Then again Tony was fully regressed...

“Woah, Tony! Be careful. I’m heavy. Do you want me to hold you or something?” Tim promoted. He needed Anthony to say it. Tony smiled and hugged him around the shoulders. DiNozzo shoved his face into Tim’s neck. 

“I ant nap. An my bear! Where bear go? Hims not on my beb?” Tony said and started to look frantic as he whipped around to look for his bear. Timmy bear always sat on his bed! McGee sat up on his knee and looked around. Ziva had tossed the bear off the bed by accident. Tim grabbed it and held it up. 

“This bear?” Is all he said and Tony grabbed the big soft toy and snuggled it close to his face. 

“Timmy Bear!” Tony called out when he brought his legs up to cage in the toy. It was big enough to cover his entire torso. 

Tim blushed. What had Tony just called this bear? 

“Uh Tony, what’s your bear’s name?” Timothy asked and moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Tony smiled and rubbed his hands up and down the bear's stomach. 

“His name Timmy Bear after you cause I gets to sleep wif Timmy Bear but not you so hims makes up for it.” Tony said and smiled. Tony then breathed deeply and yawned. 

Tim didn’t respond for a moment. Tony had actually went and bought a bear just to name it after him to cuddle it? That’s… that’s such a little thing to do. That’s something a little would do. 

It then finally really dawned on Timothy that Anthony DiNozzo was in fact a little. A regressor. And that not only was Tony a little but had affixed himself to Tim so much to go out and buy what seemed like the only stuffed animal he had. 

“Can I get ma blankies? ‘M awful cold.” Snapped Tim out of his. Tony shivered a bit. The younger man pulled back and noticed that the blankets Tony was laying didn’t look too… Well like something a little would want to snuggle up with. 

“Do you have any other blankets? Softer ones maybe?” Tim asked and Tony yawned again and pointed toward a box that was sitting hidden by his desk. Tim nodded and walked over to it. 

The box was actually just a cheap plastic bin that was about two and a half feet tall, a foot wide, and a foot and a half deep. It was pretty well hidden between the wooden desk and the wall. Tim popped open the lid, he sighed. Of course Tony hid everything like this. 

The probational officer pulled out the two soft black blankets, the brown teddy bear hoodie, but left the small box that sat in the bottom which seemed to hold more… babyish supplies. 

Tim brought down the three items back to the bed where Tony was still laying sleepily holding his bear. Ziva walked back holding a pair of sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. 

“I think this is the visitor bedroom. All his clothes are in the other room and it is much more… DiNozzo-ed. Do you think he would like it better there?” Ziva said as she looked at Tony but spoke to McGee. Tony frowned. 

“I ‘anna sleep here wif daddy. ‘M too tired. Don’t ‘anna be big boy.” Tony grumbled and whined. He looked up at Timothy. 

“Well Ziva I think I can manage. You can go back to the office. I’ll probably come in tonight and do paperwork. Tony seems… like he just needs me. Not that you didn’t help! You helped a lot!” Tim said and tried not to smile as he looked down at the regressed man. It sparked something in his chest to be wanted. 

“Okay. He obviously only cares about you anyway.” Ziva said and marched back to her car. 

Tim sighed and looked at the clothes. Just the hoodie and sweatpants would probably be okay. He took off his shoes and slipped off his jacket. He sat down next to Tony’s chest and grabbed the hoodie. 

“Tony, sit up so I can get this over you. Move your bear.” Tim said and patted Tony’s shoulder. Tony whined and sat up. 

“No you lays down too. You need to just pull the blankies up.” Tony explained and pointed to the blankets that were left at the end of the bed. Tim laughed a bit. 

“Tony, you have to  put clothes on and then you can go to sleep. You can put on your hoodie and then you can have the blankies. Now come on pants too.” Tim explained as he slipped the hoodie over Tony’s strong chest. Tony whined and pouted and looked up at Tim through his eyelashes. 

“Fine” is all Tim said before he sat down over Tony’s feet. He grabbed the little’s ankles and made it so his knees were bent and his feet were flat on the bed. Tim grabbed the pants and scrunched them up. He slipped each of Tony’s feet through the rings of elastic. 

He then pulled Tony’s legs straight and flat and pulled the pants up until they were to his tan thighs. Tony smiled and looked up at him. Tim then realized that he was leaning over the senior agent in a rather intimate way. Tim blushed and continued. 

He stood on his knees and grabbed both of Tony’s knees and pulled them up to sit on his shoulder so he could slip the pants up over his butt. Tim got the elastic waistband to sit at Tony’s hips and let his legs back down. 

Tony giggled and pulled his bear back to his chest. Tim just shook his head and pulled the blankets up. 

Tim turned to go sit in the bedroom until Anthony woke up again but he was stopped by a sniffle and whine. When he turned Tony was crying and squeezing the bear close to his chest. 

“Tony? What’s wrong? Too hot?” Tim asked as he looked around. The curtains blacked out the sunlight and the room wasn’t too too warm. Tony sniffled again and shoved his face into the bear and murmured something. Tim walked closer to him. 

“What?” He said in a light gentle tone. Tony looked at him again and stuttered as he spoke. 

“I knew daddy didn’t love me back. They always leave. Always.” Tony started to get choked up and cried harder. Tim’s heart broke for him. ‘ They always leave’ there had been others. Tony had other people leave him. Tim wasn’t leaving. Nope. Couldn’t. 

“I’m not leaving. I’m not. Here let me, let me in.” Tim said and scooted his way so he was laying beside Tony who smiled. Tony climbed onto him so the little’s head was on Tim’s chest and his chest was resting against Tim’s stomach and Tony could wrap his arms around Tim. 

The younger man stroked through Tony’s hair. 

“Daddy loves me back! Now can… Will dada hold me to sleep?” Tony said and looked up nervously at Tim. Tim smiled and pulled Tony so their legs were twisted together and they were chest to chest and Tony’s head was over Tim’s shoulder. 

“Is that okay? Are you okay to sleep now?” Tim whispered and pulled the blanket up to the little’s shoulders. Tony hummed and melted into Tim. Soon enough he was snoring and breathing deeply. 

Tim didn’t mind. He didn’t mind when Tony woke up and gruffly asked for oatmeal and some ‘ fucking ibuprofen’ . He didn’t mind Tony awkwardly thanking him. And he didn’t mind Tony emailing him much later if he was okay with maybe sometime helping him again sometime.

[annwrites]

—pink champagne

let me love you like a woman. let me hold you like a baby. let me shine like a diamond. — sugardaddy!oc x sugarbaby!oc ; ⋅˚‧ ୨୧ ‧˚ ⋅

John glances across the bar and catches sight of you—an attractive young woman idly stirring her drink with glazed over eyes, as if you’ve gone away somewhere else.

Eventually, you glance up—shaking yourself out of it—and slowly turn your head, feeling a pair of eyes on you.

An older, heavy-set man with short white-blond hair and a soft smile raises his glass to you.

You smile in return before nervously stirring your drink that you haven’t touched in a handful of minutes, returning to your thoughts.

 “Excuse me,” calls a deep, quiet voice to your left a moment later. “Is this seat taken?”

You turn, meeting eyes with the man who’d previously occupied a stool at the opposite end of the bar just a moment ago.

You shake your head then, giving him a kind smile. “No, it isn’t.”

“Do you mind?” He asks with a raised brow.

You smile wider. “Not at all.”

You hope he doesn’t turn out to be a creep.

It’ll just be nice to have someone decent to talk to for a little while, instead of continuing to sit and wallow in self-pity.

He sets an armful of paperwork upon the bar-top before sliding atop the stool next to you, and you watch appreciatively at the way it settles beneath his weight.

“John,” he says, extending a hand to you.

You slide your own along his palm, fighting against the warmth you feel bloom in your cheeks at the contact.

God, you truly are a pathetic, lonely creature, aren’t you?

“Y/N,” you reply quietly.

“So,” he says, turning back to his paperwork—which you try to get a peek at, but promptly look away, not wanting to seem nosy. “Don’t tell me a date stood you up?”

He glances to you with a small smile.

You shake your head, taking a sip of your drink. “No, I’m in town for my friend’s wedding. It’s the day after tomorrow.”

He nods. “I see. Bridesmaid?”

“Yes. A few of us are staying here. We got into town a bit early to help with any last-minute arrangements and what-not.”

He scribbles on the paper before him before looking at your drink. “I’d worried you were simply a pretty young woman drowning her sorrows at a hotel bar.”

His eyes flit to yours then and you shift in your seat.

He clears his throat with a nervous chuckle.

“I’m sorry. I’m not…” He shakes his head. “I think I might be a bit out of practice here. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I think I was just trying very poorly to make conversation.”

He grins. “And a bit of light flirting, perhaps.”

You smile warmly down at your drink. “No, it’s not… You didn’t. Make me uncomfortable, I mean. It’s just nice to receive compliments. I don’t always know how to take them, though.”

He turns slightly toward you. “Shy?”

You nod, taking another sip.

You look once more at his paperwork, then back to him.

“Ah, this,” he says, gesturing to it. “I’m in town on work, myself.”

“What do you do?” You ask, turning, resting your drink in your lap, idly stirring it.

“I am an architect,” he says with a sigh. “I think I’m just starting to feel a bit burnt out on my current project and I’m looking for a way to procrastinate.”

“You build houses?” You ask with interest.

He bobs his head from side-to-side. “I can. But, I primarily deign skyscrapers. Tall buildings. Like this one.”

Your brows raise.

“You must be really smart to do that,” you mumble. “I bet it’s exciting: seeing your creations come to life. Watching other people work, and live, and stay in them.”

He likes your enthusiasm. Appreciates it, even.

“Perhaps at one time. Don’t get me wrong—I love what I do. But I think the excitement wore off a long time ago.”

You grow silent, taking another sip.

“And you?”

You glance up to him.

“What do you do for work?” He asks.

“I work in an office,” you reply flatly. “I get the thrilling privilege of staring at a computer screen all day while pushing paperwork.”

You turn back to the bar and he watches as you down the rest of your drink.

“I think I came down here to try and distract myself from how lonely the rest of this weekend is going to be for me,” you say, changin the subject, while providing explanation for your sudden want for further alcohol.

He pushes his paperwork to the side and rests an elbow on the bartop, then rests his cheek against his fist while staring at you. ��Don’t tell me you’re going to the wedding stag.”

You look at him and he smiles.

“I don’t know what the female equivalent of that term is. Doe?” He shakes his head. “Doesn’t sound right.”

You laugh lightly, and he’s glad he could accomplish at least that.

“I am,” you say, nodding to the bartender that you’d like another.

“Put it on my tab,” John tells him.

You smile gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“So, why alone?” He asks. “Boyfriend couldn’t get time off of work?”

You take your drink between your hands again, returning to stirring it. “There’s not one to speak of.”

You take a drink. “I think, maybe, I’d hoped to get drunk enough tonight that I’d stop thinking about it: how yet another one of my friends is getting married and taking that next step in her life while I’m just…”

Tears sting your eyes. “I see those my age—some younger, even—getting married or engaged, buying houses, having kids, and I’m left feeling like I’m a dozen steps behind. Like…everyone is going on ahead, while I missed the turn-off somewhere. And I’m trying desperately to catch up, but I can’t seem to find my way back. And the more I try, the more lost I get. I’m just…sitting in the dark in an idling car, and the tank is almost on empty, and I don’t know which way to go.”

Your eyes flit between his own for a moment before you shake your head and wipe the budding tears from your eyes. “I’m sorry. That was…”

You set your glass down. “I can be a sad drunk sometimes, I think.”

“I asked,” he says, leaning toward you.

“How old are you?” You asks.

“Twenty-five,” you reply.

He chuckles, and rests a hand atop your own. “Sweetheart, your life is just beginning. You have plenty of time, trust me.”

You shrug. “My parents were already married by my age.”

You pause. “Then again, that ended in a nasty divorce. So maybe I shouldn’t use them as the pinnacle to strive to get to.”

He grins. “Getting married young doesn’t always give you the fairytale ending the movies try to sell you. The one your parents got is more often the way it goes. At least in my experience.”

“You were married?”

He nods, then holds up his right index finger. “Once. Then again, I think I was already married before her.”

Your brows furrow.

“To my work,” he explains. “I was never home. And when I was, I was working. It was what I chose to dedicate myself to. So it cost me the death of my marriage.”

He takes a drink of his whiskey. “She remarried some time after. She has three kids now, last I heard. And I imagine a couple grandkids, at least. I’m happy for her.”

“You don’t…ever get lonely, then?” You ask hesitantly.

You can’t imagine—rather, don’t want to—yourself being middle-aged with no family to speak of.

His eyes meet yours.

“Sometimes,” he says with a nod.

You grow quiet, stirring the liquid in your glass again.

“Do you want to go to this wedding alone?” He asks.

You shrug. “The reception is going to be the miserable part. Sitting there and eating my cob salad while everyone else dances with their dates.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“What if you had someone to go with you?”

John guides you back to your seats, and he takes one of your hands between each of his.

“I’d like to make you a…proposal of sorts. Perhaps offer is a better word...”

He trails off for a moment, and then his eyes flit to yours.

“I hope you don’t take offense to this, because I in no way mean for it to be disrespectful. In truth, I’ve never made an offer like this before. I’ve never thought to. Not until meeting you.”

You brows furrow while you wait for him to elaborate on what it is, exactly, he’s trying to ask.

He chuckles nervously. “For lack of a better term for it, I’d like to…”

He pauses and his lip twitches. “It’s such a ridiculous term, but I’d like to be your sugar daddy.”

You snort and burst out laughing.

You cover your mouth with your free hand, but as you stare at him and see that his expression is unchanged, your laughter slows until it stops altogether.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He grins and shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I realize how much it sounds like a joke, but I assure you I’m completely serious.”

“We’ve…known each other for only two days—”

“I know. And there’s nothing to say this offer even goes through. On either of our ends. But, if you’re willing to consider it, I would have a few stipulations, if you’re willing to hear me out?”

Out of pure curiosity, you remain silent, waiting for him to continue.

“For one, before things would go anywhere, I’d want for you to get tested. Not that I think I’d have anything to worry about. But it would be simply for my peace-of-mind. I would give you the same in return. Because, if you did agree, I’d expect for this relationship to have an intimate aspect to it. And on top of that, I’d also expect for you to be faithful to me. I’d grant you the same in return, simply because I don’t have the time, nor patience, to go looking elsewhere for something you’ve already promised me: yourself.

“In return, I’ll give you my time, my attention, and my money. I’ll pay your bills, tend to travel expenditures when I ask you to come somewhere with me for work, and generally spoil you.”

He reaches for a glass of champagne and takes a long drink before giving you a nervous smile. “I…know I’m old enough to be your father. And I’m not exactly in my prime anymore—”

Your brows knit together and you squeeze his hand. “I don’t mind either of those things. I… I like that you’re older.”

Your eyes trail along his body—liking the way his gut hangs over his dress slacks—and you flush.

“I’ve never been a fan of six-packs,” you state.

You gaze into his eyes. “I… I would need to think about all of this, but if I did… Your body-type would just be an added bonus.”

You shrug slightly. “I’ve always had an appreciation for heavier-set men. There’s comfort in it. Safety. At least for me.”

He smiles a toothy grin. “So, you’ll consider this, then?”

You chew the inside of your cheek. “You understand I would need to bring my work with me, right? I can switch to remote at any time. The only reason I haven’t is because… Being in the office is better for me than spending even more time alone than I already do. But I guess with this arrangement I wouldn’t be so lonely anymore.”

He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I understand. I in no way would wish to control you. And things can be discussed further, and at more length,” he says, looking around the crowded dance-floor before glancing back to you, “But maybe at a more appropriate time.”

You nod. “What if…you come to realize that you’ve made a mistake in offering me this? Maybe you come to figure out that I’m not what you’d hoped for. That I’m not smart enough, or pretty enough, or interesting, or—”

He cups your cheek and brushes his thumb along your lips. “That’s something else I’d like to work on, too: your low self-esteem.”

You wrench yourself away, staring anywhere else but at him.

He slides a hand atop your knee. “I’m not trying to insult you, sweetheart.”

You slowly turn back to him.

“I think you’re beautiful. And kind. And you have a good sense of humor. I’ve gauged as much in two days, at least.”

His lip twitches. “I’d like to find out what more there is to discover in time. If you’ll let me.”

After a chance meeting in a hotel bar with a middle-aged man by the name of John Whitland, for the first time in a long time, you open up to someone about just how lonely and wishing for something more that you are. Something more that you don’t even have a name for. Marriage? Family? Settling down, perhaps?

It’s only once he makes you an offer to be your—for lack of a better term for it—‘sugar daddy’, that you come to realize it was simple companionship that you’ve been craving.

So, he flies you from city-to-city to be with him and keep him company while he works. And, despite trying to keep it shoved in a cage, you begin to open your heart while you enjoy the newfound feeling of freedom you’ve found at his side.

headcanons:

my fancast for john is the late philip seymour hoffman.

this story will be romanticizing the body of a fat man. if you don't like that, don't read; it's not for you.

[timaeusterrored]

(Vax’s mommy issues)

((Tw: mentions of addiction))

“I just think it’s a little convenient is all. She’s not there for nearly 33 years and suddenly she’s interested after he reveals his face? Do we even know if she’s his mother?” Vik asked, following Guadeloupe around the kitchen until she turned.

“Oh I’m quite sure. Even chromed up, V looks exactly like her. And trust me, Vik, I don’t like it either but he deserves to meet his mother at least once. Then he can chose to do as he pleases after.” She explained calmly, then shoved a spoon of soup into Vik’s mouth to shut him up.

Vax showed up a few hours later, trying to not look too excited and failing miserably. The sight hurt Vik’s soul. There was a feeling deep in his chest that this wasn’t going to end well.

“Is she here?” He asked, he sounded like a kid on Christmas asking if Santa came that night. Luckily, Guadeloupe best him to the punch to go with him. Vik watched from the kitchen as Melissa Kane stood to greet her son for the first time. She couldn’t even come sober?

Vik sat at the table, Guadeloupe joining him after a few minutes with a beer. They clinked their bottles together and waited, hearing the soft talking going on in the living room.

It too all of 30 minutes for Vax to go storming out. And Vik’s suspicions were confirmed. He watched Melissa try to follow, stopping just outside. She didn’t come for Vax, she came for V Eurodyne. Husband of a rock legend and a legend himself in the underworld of Night City.

“If you ever contact my son again, I will not hesitate to contact the police. I’d deal with you myself but I raised too much of a good person.” Vik couldn’t help but add that last bit. But it was true.

He was there when Vex had her baby, he was there when Vax woke up screaming from nightmares at an age too young to be having them, he was there for Vax’s first boxing match, taught him to shoot a gun and how to drive. And Guadeloupe was there to house him when V was too scared to talk to Vik about his own addiction. They raised V into the man he was today, not her.

He should call Kerry.

Vax was glad for one thing in the Villa, and that was the bar and the fact that Kerry only stayed here when he was making a new album, which luckily wasn’t now. He downed his second drink and went to pour another when a hand stopped him, silver wedding band sticking out against the golden jewel he normally wore.

He let the bottle get taken from him and sighed, feeling defeated. And hurt. And extremely vulnerable right now.

“She asked for money. Knew her all of 30 minutes, and she asked me for money.” He had hoped Vex would be wrong about her, that their mother would be an amazing woman who just made a rough decision. But no, she barely cared about Vax, only his last name and status.

“I’m so sorry, baby…” Kerry kissed his temple and led V to sit on the couch, then moved to make him an actual drink. Something he’d actually enjoy instead of just drowning in self pity for ever thinking his mother would be a good woman.

“I just… is it so bad that I hoped my mother would be a good person?” He asked when Kerry came back over with drink and made V look at him.

“Your mother is a good woman. That woman is not your mother, your mother is Guadeloupe Welles. And that is the best mother ever right there.” Kerry wrapped his arm around V’s shoulders and gave him a knowing look.

“She’s missin’ out on the most amazing, talented, kindest, and sexiest man alive. And if she was gonna use you for money, then fuck her. She doesn’t deserve to know Vax. She’s lucky she got to him. And she’s extremely lucky I wasn’t there.” She probably was, V had no idea how overprotective Kerry could be when they first met.

V took a drink and sighed. Fuck Kerry knew him too well this was amazing. He rested his temple on Kerry’s forehead, feeling him rub his shoulder.

“Still hurts… I spent years looking for her… wanting to meet her. And turns out she didn’t care about me or Vex at all…” he whispered. “I know I have Vik and Mama but damn I was so excited to meet her.”

Kerry nodded, simply listening to rant because he knew that’s what V needed. His merc didn’t need advice he needed someone to hear him. And Kerry would listen to him for hours if that’s what it took.