#trust no one was more upset with the way this looks than me

[lovemaybankk]

ultraviolence - part 2: stalker!rafe cameron x pogue!reader (18+)

pairing: stalker!rafe cameron x pogue!reader

this is a two-part series, read part 1 here!

inspired by lana del rey's song, "ultraviolence" ♡

summary: unbeknownst to you, rafe cameron had been quietly watching you for months, his obsession growing darker with each day. one day, rafe's delusions reach a breaking point, and he kidnaps you, keeping you away in a secluded location where he plans to keep you forever.

word count: 4,512 words

author's note: HI GUYS FINALLY WAR IS OVER FOR ME. i can go back to religiously writing!! i hope you all enjoy <3 also happy holidays to you all!! NOT PROOFREAD

warning: DARK!, mdni, dub-con/non-con, cursing, virgin!reader, praise kink, breeding kink, teasing, fingering, knife play, rope play, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral sex (fem and male receiving)

you woke up groggily, head pounding and the first thing you noticed was the silence. your body felt heavy, and as you shifted, you realized you were lying on a soft mattress, far more comfortable than any.

blinking your eyes open, you were momentarily disoriented. the room around was pristine, almost unnervingly so. white walls, a neatly made bed beneath with crisp sheets, and a small nightstand where a tray of food sat neatly arranged—buttered toast, scrambled eggs, and a glass of orange glass that glinted under the sunlight streaming through a half-drawn curtain.

your breathing quickened as you shot up, the blanket falling away, revealing you were still in your own clothes, though the shoes were gone.

"where am i?" you whispered to yourself, voice cracking in the quiet.

there were no locks on the windows, though they were too high to reach, and the door looked like any ordinary bedroom door. but something about this place felt wrong: it was too clean and too staged.

sliding over the edge of the bed, the floor felt like cool, solid wood. quietly, your crept to the door, pressing your ear against it. nothing. no footsteps, no voices. just the unnatural silence.

your hand trembled as you reached for the handle. locked. of course. panic surged as you wanted to scream, to pound on the door.

turning back to the room, you searched—checking under the bed, behind the nightstand, even peeling back the corners of the wallpaper. if there was a clue, a way out, you had to find it.

abruptly, you heard the sound of the door unlocking from the outside and you loudly gasped, heart pounding in your chest as you were worried about what would be behind that door.

"good morning." rafe was standing there nonchalantly, his hands tucked into the pockets of his faded jeans, a faint smirk playing on his lips like he knew something I didn’t. the sunlight streamed through the half-open blinds behind him, casting long shadows that danced across the floor.

"you’re up early," he added, his tone casual but with an edge of curiosity that made your tomach twist. you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or if he was testing you.

"couldn’t sleep," you muttered back, laying back down on the bed and pulling the blanket around you as if it could shield from his piercing gaze.

rafe tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes scanning the room, landing on the untouched tray of food by the bed. "not hungry?"

"not yet," that was a lie. the truth was, you didn’t trust it, or him, for that matter. something about his calm demeanor felt too calculated, like every move he made was part of a carefully constructed plan.

rafe's smirk faded as he caught the edge in your voice. "you're upset," he said, his tone soft but with a thread of something unreadable beneath it.

"upset?" you scoffed, crossing your arms tightly. "you kidnapped me, rafe. upset doesn’t even begin to cover it."

he leaned against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on you, steady and unwavering. "i didn’t do this to hurt you," he said after a beat. "i did this because i didn’t know what else to do."

you blinked at him, stunned by the sheer audacity of his words. "you kidnapped me because you didn’t know what else to do? that’s supposed to make this okay? do you even hear yourself right now?"

"i didn’t want to lose you," he said quickly, his voice rising just enough to cut through your anger.

your breath caught, the weight of his confession settling heavily in the room. "so you thought dragging me here and forcing me to stay was the solution?"

"it’s not like that," he protested, stepping closer. "i just… i thought if we had time, if you weren’t surrounded by all those distractions, you’d see how much you mean to me."

"you don’t understand," he said quietly while looking intensely into your eyes. "i’ve never felt this way about anyone. and i know this isn’t the right way to show it, but i didn’t know how else to show you how i feel."

"i just wanted a chance," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "a chance to prove to you that i’m the one who cares the most. that i could make you happy."

for a moment, you said nothing, the silence stretching long and heavy. then, without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the sound of the lock clicking into place.

of course, you had a small crush on rafe too. every time he came into the restaurant and you served him, your heart would skip a beat, your pulse quickening when he flashed you that effortless smile. there was something about the way he carried himself which was confident, yet a little precarious, that drew you in despite your better judgment. but still, you had no idea his feelings for you ran this deep, deep enough to bring you to a secluded location like this.

reluctantly, you gave in and began to eat the food he had provided. the flavors intrigued you, tasty and fulfilling, though they did little to calm the emotions inside you.

as you tried to mentally make sense of everything, rafe walked back in, his presence filling the room and catching you off guard all over again. his gaze was steady, intense, as if he could see every thought running through your mind.

"may i show you something?" rafe asked, his voice low and measured as he sat down on the bed next to you. you shivered slightly, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through you. his closeness felt overwhelming, and you weren’t sure whether to lean away or stay still.

he pulled out his phone, unlocking it with a practiced swipe, and turned the screen toward you. there, in his photo gallery, were images of you, a few from the restaurant, others from your home, and others from random places you didn’t even realize you’d been seen.

"this is how it started," he began, his tone oddly tender, as though he were sharing a precious secret. "i noticed you. everything about you drew me in. the way you move, the way you smile, the way you’re so kind to everyone, even people who don’t deserve it. that's why i gave you so much a tip that day, so you would notice me back. and that's why i kept coming back, in hopes you would fall for me too."

his eyes flicked from the screen to you, searching your face for a reaction. you felt a knot tighten in your stomach as he continued, explaining how his fascination with you grew into something more—something he couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried.

"rafe-" you started, your voice trembling, but the words were cut off as he leaned in suddenly, his lips pressing against yours. you froze, your body stiffening as a wave of unease washed over you. his kiss was insistent, his hand grazing your cheek, but instead of warmth, you felt a chill of dread creeping up your spine.

your mind screamed at you to pull away, but your body felt paralyzed, caught off guard by the suddenness of it all. when he finally pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for something. approval, maybe, or permission.

"you don’t have to look so scared," he murmured, a small, almost amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "rafe, i... i don't-" you started, but your voice faltered under his intense gaze. he tilted his head slightly and the tension in the room only grew heavier.

"it doesn't have to be like this. please, let me go, and we can go out together instead and get to know each other more," you said, your voice shaky with fear. the words tumbled out in a desperate attempt to regain control, but rafe's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you.

he didn’t respond right away, his gaze shifting as if he was assessing whether you were serious or simply trying to escape. the silence was suffocating, and the air around you felt thick with tension. finally, he clicked his tongue, a sharp, disapproving sound that made your heart race even faster.

"you don’t get to decide that," rafe murmured, his voice low and his fingers tightened slightly, and the warmth of his hand felt more like a weight now. "i’ve been patient, but you're not going to talk your way out of this."

suddenly, you felt rafe grab your the sides of your arms tightly, and forcefully pushed you to lay down on the bed. the cushions hit you hard as did the weight of him abruptly getting on top of you. the warmth of his body overwhelmed you as his lips crashed onto yours in seconds.

you were mumbling against his mouth, trying to speak words, but this only made him attempt to slide his tongue into your mouth as your lips parted. you felt him exploring, every part of you, as his hands roamed around your body, where he stopped to tightly grip your plush inner thighs.

"rafe, no!" you mumbled against his mouth but it was no use as his mouth was intertwined with yours. you used all of your strength trying to push him, using your hands to firmly grip his shoulders and try your absolute hardest to push him away. but this only angered rafe as he finally parted his face from yours and looked intensely into your eyes with pure hunger.

"don’t you see how much i need you?!" he nearly screamed in your face, his voice echoing in the confined space. the sheer intensity of his outburst sent a jolt of terror through you, your breath catching in your throat.

you were frozen, your body trembling beneath him as if every muscle refused to obey. the room seemed to shrink around you, the walls pressing in as his presence felt larger. your heartbeat pounded in your ears, drowning out any coherent thought, leaving only the raw, overwhelming instinct to flee.

"all this fucking time! i need you right now. and i finally have you here all to myself." even while laying on top of you, he still managed to pull out a few feet of soft rope from his pockets. he proceeded to pin you down as he tightly grabbed your wrists, joining them together. you winced in pain from how tight he was gripping them, bound to leave marks on your soft flesh. with one hand proceeding to grip them together, he used his other to wrap the rope around it and make a knot to tie it together. with the remaining few feet, he used it to tie your joint wrists on the metal headboard.

you shivered as you noticed the pocket knife he suddenly pulled out and the loud noise of the blade flicking out.

"rafe, no!" you screamed, your voice breaking with panic as you tried to twist away from him, still confined with rope.

he barely flinched, his expression calm but unnervingly intense. "don’t worry, baby," he said softly, his tone almost soothing, though it sent a chill down your spine. ‘i’m not going to hurt you. i just need to get you out of these clothes."

your breath hitched as the blade glinted under the sunlight. you froze, your heart pounding wildly as he brought it to the hem of your shirt. with careful precision, he began slicing through the fabric, the sound of the knife tearing through cloth sharp and deafening in the otherwise silent room.

tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of fear and humiliation coursing through you. you wanted to fight, to scream again, but the weight of his presence kept you paralyzed. he worked methodically, as though this was perfectly normal, while you could barely breathe, your mind racing with desperate thoughts of escape.

you were vulnerable in front of him, stripped down to nothing but your undergarments.

your hands trembled as you wanted to shield yourself, but of course, this did little to ease the sense of exposure when you were tied up. your breath came in uneven gasps, and you kept your eyes fixed firmly on the walls beside you, refusing to meet his. but even without looking, you could feel the intensity of his stare, unyielding and possessive, making it impossible to ignore him.

you shivered as suddenly, the cold blade was held against your skin and you felt it gradually slide down to your waist. even though you were consumed with fear, you were paralyzed, fixed in your position and trying to not get cut by the blade already so close to your skin.

"so beautiful...so delicate." rafe was admiring you nearly naked underneath him as his other hand was gently caressing your skin. he leaned in to your face, causing you to instinctly turn your head to the side but he only leaned in to whisper in your ear, "so soft..."

he was still leaned in to you and your body nearly jumped from the sudden feeling of his rough hand coming down to your mound, where he began to gently rub your clit through your panties.

"you claim you don't want this....yet you're so wet baby."

his face inched closer, his breath warm against your skin. before you could react, his lips captured yours, pressing firmly as if claiming you. his kiss was invasive, his tongue slipping past your lips to explore, dominating the space with an intensity that left you breathless. the kiss deepened, leaving you struggling to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

he was right. if this was not what you wanted, why was your body giving in like this? deep down, you internally had to admit to yourself a part of you wanted this. a part of you was turned on by him doing all of this. and this whole time, you had wanted him.

he leaned back from you again, taking a moment to deeply stare at you, admiring his view of you tied up underneath him like this. he sat on his ankles and used one hand to firmly grab your waist steady and the blade that had been held so still against your skin now was trying to get underneath your panties. rafe proceeded to flip the blade amidst your skin and rise it up, in attempt to cut the delicate lace of the panties. he swiftly moved it out of the way, stuffing it into his pockets for later.

he softly gripped your inner thighs and parted them, holding it in place into the mattress. he lowered his face to hover over your mound and you could feel his hot breath against you.

he licked a long stripe up your puffy folds, causing you to loudly gasp and whimper when his wet tongue held still at your bud, sending waves of pleasure through you. when he continued to intricately explore your pussy with his tongue, making sure to it made you arch your back and curl your toes as you were clenching around his tongue that was abruptly inserted into your hole.

as he continued his movements, your body felt pure euphoria from his touch. rafe was holding your hips roughly down into the mattress, and your thighs were tightly closed onto his face, which only encouraged him to continue and explore your folds with his tongue while rubbing the tip of his nose on your delicate clit.

"such a good girl, huh? taking me so well...i knew you would like this." while gripping his firm grip on ur hips, he leaned out of your crotch, only causing you to audibly whimper from the lack of touch. "don't worry baby..."

he kept one hand to grip your hips as usual, but he released the other to suck two joint fingers, his middle and his ring, into his mouth. after properly lubricating himself, he slowly stuck the fingers into your wet and needy hole, paying particular attention to your reaction. at first, you winced at the sting that came from his abrupt entrance to you. but his face came to yours and he softly kissed your forehead, "it's ok baby, please breathe through it. i promise it will feel so good."

he began to slowly thrust them in and out, pushing them in with ease because of your arousal. while continuing to thrust at a steady yet gradual pace, he lowered his head back in to suck on your sensitive clit. the amount of pleasure crashed onto you and you began to loudly whimper and moan with the eyes rolling to the back of your head. you whimpered to him, "rafe, please keep going..."

of course, he obliged, and continued to suck on your bud so well, and thrust his fingers in and out of your hole, each time hitting that sweet spongy spot was making your toes curl and sending you closer to your release.

you felt the coil in your stomach began to tighten as he was perfectly curling his fingers inside of you and continuing his steady pace. you began to melt onto his touch as you felt your release coming. he was eager to draw your orgasm out, and he continued to suck on your swollen bud while pumping his fingers in and out of your sopping cunt.

your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, each inhale loud and ragged from your intense release. your body glowed with a sheen of sweat, the dampness clinging to your skin as the adrenaline coursing through you kept your heart pounding.

he suddenly came face to face with you, feeling his intense breath on your face and that throbbing feeling in your crotch. "you look so beautiful right now." you blushed at his response and only looked at him through your eyelashes.

he smirked and chuckled at you, "we're not finished yet baby..." you felt surprised at his words and were curious, wondering intensely what he meant and what was going to happen next.

the mattress suddenly sprung back up from the release of his weight on it as rafe hovered over the bed. he slowly, wanting you to pay close attention and to tease you, used his hands to undo his belt, letting his jeans fall down to his ankles. he took his socked feet out of the bundle of fabric and slowly, again, lowered his boxers to free his hard cock that slapped his stomach. his large pink tip was already glistening with his leaking pre-cum and you were drooling at the sight, legs clenched together trying to soothe the throbbing feeling.

he came back onto the mattress, legs spread apart as your chest was between his thighs. you licked a small part of your lips as his large cock was in front of your eyes.

rafe gently cupped your chin, tilting your face upward to meet his gaze. his eyes bore into yours, filled with an intense, almost predatory hunger that made your stomach twist. his touch was soft and tender, yet the weight of his intention was clear.

with a slow, deliberate motion, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, the pad of his finger lingering for a moment before gently parting your lips.

he raspily said to you, "are you gonna take me like a good girl?" all you could make out was an eager nod to him. you were desperate and admittedly hungry for him. he chuckled again, "yeah, you're gonna suck me?"

he used one hand to softly cup the back of your head, holding it up to look at him while he used the other to stroke himself in front of you. he spitted in his hand and then proceeded his same stroking motion, releasing a groan.

suddenly, he used his hand to slap his tip on your lips, making you instinctively part them for you to kiss it ever so softly. he groaned at this small movement and murmured, "make sure to flatten that tongue, alright baby?" you listened and opened your mouth wide for him as he moved the rest of your length inside of you. he began to use both of his hands to hold your head as he began to slowly thrust himself in and out of your mouth. his head was arched back, eyes rolling to the back of his head, and he was loudly groaning at the feeling of your wet mouth taking all of him. drool was falling off the corners of your mouth as his leaking tip was hitting the back of your throat. at this point, you were already choking on his length.

he continued to pump his cock in and out of your mouth for a few moments until he abruptly came out, letting you catch your breath. he came back down to meet face to face with you and he began to undo the knot that held you to the bed frame, letting your wrists gently fall into his hands. you softly held his hair as he lowered his head gradually down your body, planting his kisses on your skin.

he gently kissed your folds as he parted your legs, planting them into the mattress like earlier. he adjusted himself to be perfectly between your legs, lifting your waist up and lining himself up with your wet entrance.

"don't worry angel, we can take our time, alright? just let me know whenever you're ready." you nodded and while making sure you were looking at him, he slapped your folds with your tip and glided it gently up and down your folds. he was taking his time, enjoying the sight of you whimpering at this touch regardless and waiting with anticipation.

you loudly whimpered to him, "rafe, please!" he chuckled at you and and said, "ok! ok..." he looked into your eyes as he entered you slowly, feeling yourself sink down on his length. you tightly closed your eyes at this sudden entrance and you felt him scoot his way between your arms so you could have them wrapped around his neck. he began to plant gentle kisses down your neck and cheeks, wiping your tears away. "remember to breathe, alright baby? you can do it..." he waited a minute for you to adjust to his length, staying in his position even though he wanted to thrust into you so much. you were so warm and tight wrapped around him, both of you moaning as you began to gently move, signaling you were comfortable and ready for his length.

he began to gradually move his cock in and out of your walls, making you moan at every stroke. "you were just begging for this cock, weren't you huh?" you nodded at him, arms wrapped around him and tightly gripping onto his hair as you wrapped your legs around his waist, encouraging him to move more. you were bucking your hips to meet his as his pace was increasing, easily sliding in and out of you because of your arousal. you were nearly a moaning mess underneath him as your leaking pussy was wrapped around his rock hard cock. his length was gradually driving into your needy cunt mercilessly.

he groaned to you, "you're so beautiful like this...cock-hungry and taking me so well."

his cock continued to perfectly kiss your cervix with each thrust, arms wrapped around your waist for him to stroke that sweet spot inside of you. you felt yourself already nearing your release but this changed when rafe's hand began to gently rub your sensitive clit, while ramming into your hole. your walls were further clenching around him as you were about to cum for him, his cock already sliding perfectly in and out of you and the skin-slapping sound echoing across the room. his raspy voice echoed in the room, 'm gonna cum inside of this pussy angel..."

his words made your velvety walls spasm around his length as your orgasm crashed over you. your body shuddered with pleasure as loud moans came from you. you squeezed around his length, milking him for all he had as he continued to pump himself inside of you, inside of your snug walls.

"i'm so close..." rafe groaned, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "can't wait to see you with my baby."

you instinctively were trying to rhythmically move yourself on his cock and rafe continued to loudly groan while loud whimpers were releasing from you as he thrusted into you at a faster pace. he moved his head out of the crook of your neck to passionately kiss you, his tongue meeting with yours and intertwining in heat. he twitched while deeply inside of you, ropes of his cum filling you, while he groaned inside of your mouth. he moved himself ever so slightly to make sure he was as deep inside of and as close to you as possible. his thrusts became sloppier and eventually halted as he fell on top of you, cupping your face to meet his and eagerly meeting his lips with yours. you moaned into his touch and kissed him back, only thinking about him.

he moved to lay beside you, both of your breaths eventually synchronizing. after releasing the knot that was on your wrists, he wrapped his arms around you, scooting you to be closer to him. you buried your head in the crook of the neck, seeking comfort in the moment.

"rafe... i want to stay with you," you looked up again and whispered, your voice soft and tinged with vulnerability as you batted your eyes, lying beside him. his expression softened instantly, the intensity in his eyes giving way to something warmer, almost tender.

he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face with surprising gentleness. "you don’t know how much that means to me," he murmured, his voice low and filled with emotion.

you felt his arm slide around your waist, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest. his heartbeat was steady, a rhythmic thrum that somehow began to lull you into a sense of calm despite everything. his fingers traced lazy patterns along your back, and you found yourself relaxing against him, your eyelids growing heavy.

"you’re safe with me," he whispered, his breath warm against your hair. those words echoed in your mind as the tension in your body melted away.

before long, his breathing slowed, evening out as sleep overtook him. you lay there for a while longer, listening to the quiet rise and fall of his chest.

tomorrow, you would talk to him. together, you’d slow things down, take the time to truly understand each other, and ensure that this—whatever it was—could become something real, something you wouldn’t regret.

with that thought easing the weight in your chest, you let your eyes close, his steady breathing guiding you into a nap.

taglist! - @purplerose291, @o0itsjustme0o, @gillybear17, @l1ttlesstar, @10ava01, @frankoceanluvr11, @mattyskies, @my-name-is-baby, @ironmakerperfection, @cherry-coloureddfunk, @hoelesslyt, @crazylady20, @itsyourmanjuno, @wtfdudesblog, @pillowprincess4him, @rafesfavouritegirl

[tsukimefuku]

CHAPTER THREE PT. II: DIMINISHED CAPACITY ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES

masterlist link | mdni! | oopsie, is that... a special banner? gee I wonder if there's something to see at the end of this chapter, huh?

❀ diminished capacity.

Diminished capacity refers to an individual’s impossibility to form the intent necessary for committing any criminal act, because their capacity to fully comprehend the nature of their actions is impaired. It doesn’t, however, completely exclude their responsibility, and they may be held accountable to a lesser offense.

wc: 5.5K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader

❀ tags and c/w.

non-curse au. college au. slow-burn romcom. professor and college student pre-relationship. internship interviews suck. nobara likes to steal food from people. mentions of hypothetical violent crime. nanami gets pestered by gojo even here. higuruma likes sunflowers. nanami has a sixth sense.

❀ notes etc.

Apologies to any colleagues reading the word “evidence” in place of “proof” and feeling like tackling me with a broom, lol. Also, a huge thanks to everyone who came around for part one, I hope you guys get to enjoy reading this just as much I enjoyed writing it.

Argh… Monday.

Internship hunt was hell. There was no other way to spin that wheel. You knew it’d be incredibly hard, but not this hard.

Mondays were cursed days, but to know that not only cursed, they’d also start with terrible interviews — plural — was not in your bingo card for this week. Between  oh, you just started criminal law I this semester? and we will let you know laid the crumbling sounds of your utmost despair of knowing full well you were in for a ride for those next few days.

Well, if only daydreaming about him could save you.

It didn’t, though.

Unfortunately.

You arrived at the campus cafeteria where you were supposed to meet Nobara. Even on a fairly uncomfortable chair, she slouched nearly enough to slide down onto the ground like a rag doll, and it didn’t take you much to realize these past few days were throwing her through the wringer too.

“You look like death,” you joked as you pulled your chair to sit with her, putting your tuna sandwich and can of soda over the table.

“And you look like… like… hmph,” she scoffed while rolling her eyes and propping herself back up again.

“No snarky comeback? Are you that tired?” 

“Leave me alone,” she replied, and apparently, she really wasn’t in the mood for playful banter. You took a bite out of your sandwich, pondering if you should ask her about it, but she beat you to it. “Why is getting internships this early in college is so damn hard?”

“Apparently, places don’t trust complete newbies or youngsters,” you noted, “and they want someone who has already studied all the necessary subjects prior to hiring. Also, people with prior experience are preferred.” 

“Yet these are internship opportunities! Aren’t interns supposed to be newbies who are going to learn from the experience they’ll get through the internship?” Nobara irritatedly inquired, her implied commentary more a complaint than a question. You nodded.

“Absolutely. It makes no sense, it’s like they’re just trying to hire a junior lawyer with less rights and a lower pay rate,” you churned out through your mouthful of tuna and mayonnaise, “now that I think about it, it’s probably that, actually.” 

“I can’t go back home! I mean, I made it all the way here. If I had to go back I would never get over this. I need some money, and I need some money soon, otherwise this will all just have been a waste of my time. I should just get a part time job already instead of insisting in starting my internship as fast as possible.” 

Nobara covered her face, and she sounded genuinely upset. You paused your munching for a bit, and after washing it all down with a few gulps of soda, you leaned towards her, pulling her hands from her face.

“Hey, Nobara, we’re not letting that happen, okay? Neither me, Maki, Yuuji or Megumi.” you offered in an attempt to comfort her. She let you peel her palms away, and gazed at you in a mixture of frustration and anger, which softly subsided after your comment. You decided to push your luck, just a bit. “We can refugee you in Megumi’s car. We’ll get you a hammer so you can hit passerbies for shits and giggles to let some collegiate steam out.” 

Consternated, she shook your hands off of her while you chuckled. She made her best effort to still look pissed, but you noticed a tiny smile forming on the edges of her mouth.

“That’s a shit plan, but I’ll take you up on that hammer offer,” she said, and you smiled at her, a gesture she finally reciprocated.

“I’d expect no less from you. So, tell me, in which area are you looking for internships? Fashion law?” 

“Nope, entertainment.” Nobara picked your half eaten sandwich in her hands and took a bite before you could protest. “Maki had told me it was easier to get internships in entertainment law to garner some experience for a future in fashion law, but honestly? I’m skeptical now.” 

“There might be some openings soon. Have you tried Professor Gojo’s firm? It’s the same as Professor Nanami’s, isn’t it? I mean, that giant firm with dozens of departments and that nearly every teacher at our college seems to work for.” You stretched your hand to get your sandwich back, but she slapped you away. “Hey!” 

“I need it more than you, I’m sad!” 

“I’m sad too! I had four terrible internship interviews today, give it back!” 

You both entered a silly slapping match, and the few people walking past the table would look away nervously in fear of getting dragged into the middle of whatever war was going on over a cheap cafeteria tuna sandwich.

“You were having interviews today too?! How come you never told me?! I’m gonna eat your food for not telling me stuff, you’ve been weird ever since that party that you went off for a smoke and dipped!” She took another humongous bite and you jumped over the table, finally snatching whatever remained of your food out of her hands.

“I haven’t been weird!” you had, “and yes, I did. I am interviewing for internship openings in criminal law, but… well, you’ve been through that these days yourself. You know the drill.” 

She grunted with tuna smeared around her mouth, trying to reach for the rest of your sandwich, and it was your turn to slap her.

“Stop it, Nobara. Quit being so stingy and buy one for yourself!” 

“Not when I can eat your food for free,” she joked while taking a big gulp from your soda can, and you sighed, which only gave her a shit eating grin. “Did you interview for that spot they announced today?” 

“What? What opening?”

“I just saw it, there was a new flyer on the main hall board. It’s an internship for criminal law, apparently under the guidance of Professor Geto,” Nobara said while shrugging. “Apparently the huge firm now has a criminal law department too. It was announced last week or so.” 

“Did it say up until when they were taking applications?” 

***

Each and every tendon in your body tensed as you sat with the perfect lady-like crossed ankles at the 45º angle under your second-hand suit. The meeting room was, for the lack of a better word, mighty, having an entire glass wall peering into the rest of the office, and towered over you high enough to have you feeling like a tiny speck of dust humbly drifting its way over the clearly expensive brown, leather couch. A few people walked by as you waited, and the mahogany table seemed big enough to fit three people. It was probably worth your entire year’s tuition, and you wondered if the ceiling height really needed to be tailored for elves. Or ents. Tree people, perhaps.

The firm’s name hung high right in front of you, the logo and letters made out of stainless steel illuminated by LEDs behind it. Opulence wasn’t a big enough word to describe that pompous display of corporate wealth.

You were fished out of your rags to riches daydreams by the pivoting door opening, figuring it was your interviewer for the position. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the already well-known foxy-eyed, long haired Professor to come in, but a much more stoic individual with the polar opposite for a hair, not only in length but in color too. You already knew him from afar, as your commercial law Professor. He carried himself in a dignified manner, and upon further inspection, not only was his navy blue suit absolutely pristine, he also didn’t have a single hair strand out of place. You got up to greet him, bowing respectfully, and he returned the gesture.

“Good afternoon, Mrs.,” he said as he sat down on his chair across from you, “my name is Nanami Kento and I’ll be responsible for your interview today.”

You introduced yourself, and remarked, “apologies, but I thought Prof- I mean, Mr. Geto would be the one responsible for this interview today.”

 “As it stands currently, the criminal law department is my responsibility,” Nanami clarified, “so I decided I’d be the one responsible for interviewing our future team. I currently work in our corporate law department.”

You acquiesced with a professional smile. Something about how every tiny detail in him was on point gave you enough leads to conclude that of course this man took it upon himself to be the one responsible for the interviews.

“I’ve read in your resume that you are currently undertaking criminal law I and criminal procedure law I,” Nanami said as he held your resume in his hand, glancing at you and then at the paper, “which isn’t ideal for an intern entering a newly built department.”

Harsh enough?

You readjusted yourself on your chair before speaking.

“Yes, I am.”

He hummed quietly and pulled another paper sheet from his briefcase, and even if his facial expression was perfectly collected, something about how the edges of his lips curled gave away that he was less than happy about whatever was written on it.

“Our HR insisted I should bring this questionnaire with me today, so that I could ask you this list of questions as part of our interview,” he stated, his words followed by a quiet sigh. Nanami then proceeded to tilt the paper towards him and took a moment before proceeding. “Tell me more about yourself in three… captivating anecdotes.”

His voice sounded robotic, as if he was feigning not to loathe the question at hand, and deep down, you did find it amusing. Not enough to distract yourself from the fact that you were usually horrible at interviews altogether, though.

“I’m currently in my late twenties. I started law school last year, and worked during my early twenties to save money for tuition. I’m really passionate about criminal law, that is why I applied.”

Oh, God. What was that?

Well, you sounded robotic too, listing off obvious factualities as if providing a recipe’s ingredients. Both of you stared at each other in silence, wondering if that was what this question was supposed to infer, and it took the two of you so long to speak up again that it became uncomfortable.

Clearing his throat, Nanami unconsciously loosened his tie — barely — before continuing.

Well, at least I’m not the only one who’s uncomfortable.

“What…” he paused for a moment, and seemed to be biting down a discontented sigh, “animal would you be?” His gaze quickly darted down the sheet of paper, and his displeasure was palpable. For someone with such a straight face, his eyes were very telling.

What are these questions? Are we a hip tech company? Nanami thought to himself, wondering if he should make a new list to leave at HR. He was quick to discard the thought once he realized that meant he’d be telling other people how to do their jobs, something he did enough of already.

You didn’t quite know what the hell to answer.

“I… don’t know? I haven’t really thought about that in my life? A cat, perhaps?”

“I haven’t thought about that either, don’t worry, that’s unimportant. Let’s move on to the next question. How…” Nanami lifted an eyebrow, and that alone was enough to tell he was absolutely consternated, “many basketballs can fit inside a bus?”

“… Huh?”

Is this serious?

“I apologize, I believe there must have been some sort of mix-up at the HR, let me…”

Nanami was interrupted by three knocks on the glass wall. You both turned your heads to see Professor Gojo pointing at something — the paper Nanami held in his hands — while subsequently making a thumbs up, a wide grin smeared all over his face.

Without uttering a word nor missing a beat, Nanami got up, walked towards the glass and pulled on something you hadn’t yet noticed. Immediately, blinds slowly descended in front of the glass wall, and Nanami calmly walked his way back to his chair as Gojo’s face tried to keep peering inside the meeting room, descending alongside the rim of the blinds. He kept plastering his hands over the glass like a mimic.

A faint pained moan and a thud echoed once the blinds were about a foot away from reaching the floor.

“Is everything okay?” you inquired, pointing at Gojo’s direction.

“Ignore that.”

That wasn’t a request. You nodded. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Perfect. Let’s also ignore this for a while,” Nanami remarked while putting the sheet of questions aside with his fingertips as if it was radioactive. “Let’s try something else.”

Nanami had this feeling — a familiar one — that he’d be able to pry from you what he needed to know if he went about this interview in a more practical fashion. It reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“I’m going to describe a hypothetical scenario, and I want you to debate it with me,” he stated.

“Okay.”

“A client comes to this office being investigated of homicide and he wants to hire the firm to represent them in Court. They intend to plead not guilty.” you nodded, and Nanami continued, “The victim was shot, but there was no gun to be found in the crime scene. However, the client was the only person in the vicinity apart from the victim’s body. The client’s clothes — a long sleeved shirt and jeans — are evidence that has been collected at the crime scene, but no forensics were requested for it by the prosecution. When questioned in their first meeting, the client is adamant that they did not commit the crime. The attorney needs to decide which path to take regarding evidence they’ll request or submit. Now, I ask you, which type of evidence would the attorney request if the client is truly innocent?”

You took a deep breath while mentally going over the hypothetical scenario Nanami had just relayed, and considering all he mentioned, there was only one possibility.

“If my client was truly innocent, I’d ask for forensic evidence on their clothes. Guns leave gunpowder vestiges on things like clothes, so if this person didn’t actually pull the trigger, there should be no gunpowder on their sleeves.”

Nanami acquiesced, but remained silent. 

Ok, this is not the only thing he wants to know.

“Also… I’d tell exactly that to the client.”

Nanami’s face remained completely expressionless, but something about how he tilted his head less than an inch gave you the feeling that he seemed pleased with your answer.

“And why would you do that?”

“We need to work with accurate information. If the client was lying, and we submitted a request for that evidence — forensics on their clothes — we’d be tanking their defense. They need to know what we’ll be submitting as evidence and why. I believe telling that to our client would be enough to sway them into telling us the truth,” you sighed, before concluding, “people lie. Even when they shouldn’t.”

Nanami silently picked your resume back into his hands, and seemed to scan it quickly with his eyes. You knew your chances were slim, considering you had just started Criminal Law that very semester, something he didn’t fail to notice.

After a minute, he spoke again.

“Would you be willing to use some of your spare time to study topics you might not have seen yet in criminal law?”

“Yes.”

Your heart was thumping in your chest. This was it.

Here goes nothing.

“Then, it’s settled. Can you start on Monday?”

***

This wasn’t Higuruma’s usual go-to wish when he found himself behind the Passo’s wheel, but truth of the matter was, he hoped more than anything for his car to breakdown before he got to his destination. It wasn’t something completely out of the question considering his car’s track record, but as if some destiny’s mockery had been bestowed upon him that morning, even the clack-clack-clacks he was already used to hear for the past three months were gone. As Murphy’s Law would have it, the Passo glided over the asphalt like butter. 

“Of course you won’t fail me when I need you to, you unreliable piece of-”he muttered to himself under a discontented huff.

Put upon wasn’t strong enough to convey how Higuruma was feeling, his knuckle-white grip around the steering wheel being enough to give him a sharp pain in his palms that would surely follow him for the next few hours. In a sense, he had been knuckle-white tense ever since that morning, thinking about this endeavor he was kicking himself to push through. It was the nth time he’d tried to make that visit over the past year, one that he dreaded with each and every fiber of his being. 

The Professor eyed his passenger’s seat for a second, his gaze lingering on the plastic bag he carried with him that day. Inside, there were a bottle of Kirin, an incense, and a single sunflower. The flower was definitely too long to fit properly inside the bag, and it’s head peeped though the opening, yellow petals flickering while the car moved, every ridge on the road seemingly making it jump further and further out of its container.

With one hand on the wheel, and the other reaching out, he tried shoving the sunflower back into the bag, and in between eyeing the bag, then the road, picking the flower, pushing it, the bag sliding off the seat, loud news coming on the radio, Higuruma getting startled, his glasses slipping down his nose bridge, him pushing them back in place with his shoulder, tires screeching, a car horn, his heart pounding and his ears ringing, Higuruma came to the sensible conclusion that he should, as any responsible adult would, take a break.

I need a smoke.

Who he was visiting was definitely not going anywhere.

Checking where he was, Higuruma noticed a cafe nearby, and as fate would have it, there was a single parking spot right in front of it. He maneuvered the Passo, and the car fit neatly in between the white lines. Higuruma pulled his sunflower shawl — this time, not caught under any death trap, but laid over his back seat  alongside your scarf —, threw it around his neck and got out. He took a moment to stretch his fingers in the cold air, his breath clouding in front of his mouth, and tapped around his coat to take his wallet, finally inserting some coins into the park meter and crossing the guardrail by the sidewalk. 

He’d have exactly thirty minutes to get his shit together.

The cafe was warm, inviting, and strangely familiar, its orange light almost emanating the smell of coffee beans, croissants and decadent redemption for weary travelers. The store front had a glass display through which he saw an assortment of sweet and salty baked goods. Higuruma would probably pick one of those to eat — the greasiest one, if possible —, had he not been carrying a rock in place of his stomach for the past few hours.

With his resolution waning, he mindlessly took a step back while peeping, and sighed, his tired sigh weighing on his body deciding for him that an espresso was probably the way to go.

Stepping inside, Higuruma paid no mind to whatever was around him, and waited for his turn in line to order his drink. Across from him, you nearly choked, half a donut shoved into your powdered-sugar smeared mouth, nearly spilling your own coffee over your second-hand suit.

After your interview, you thought it’d be a good idea to have a snack, and made your way inside the closest, warmest, coziest cafe you found, which was across the firm. 

At that moment, you found yourself in a cliché adult life predicament — you just saw someone you knew, but they didn’t see you. Should you go over to greet them? Should you not? Would simply leaving be rude? Should you go actually talk to the man you definitely had — and shouldn’t have — a crush on?

You clutched your coffee harder as the thoughts flew around in your mind, as second nature at this point to avoid giving him another beverage shower.

After some quick consideration, you decided you would at least say hello, after all, it was the polite thing to do. You shoved the rest of your food into your mouth, washed it all down with the rest of your coffee, haphazardly cleaned around your mouth with a napkin and slowly walked towards him, stopping a few feet away. Somehow, he still hadn’t seen you, apparently too immersed in thought.

That was when you noticed a shawl around his neck.

It was pretty damn ugly.

“Professor, hi!” you greeted, and Higuruma got yanked out of whatever daydreams — or waking nightmares — he had been simmering in while waiting in line.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t expect to meet anyone here,” Higuruma replied, “I just stopped by for a snack.”

“Oh, nice. Their coffee is pretty good,” you said, “I got the espresso.”

“And… I hope that you’re finished already? With your coffee, I mean.” he asked while checking your hands, his usually unaffected tone slightly playful, earning him a chuckle from you.

“Rest assured, I’m not assaulting you nor your ugly shawl with my coffee,” you quipped, but his eyes only widened. His owlish eyes blinked once, and then twice, in absolute silence.

That was when you realized.

Oh. I said that out loud.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Awfully hypocritical of both of us, huh?” he noted, with a discreet smile pulling on his lips. 

Relieved, realizing he hadn’t taken offense, you sheepishly returned his smile, “I guess so. I don’t think I’ll get to keep being hypocritical about our ugly scarfs, though. I can’t seem to find mine, it’s been gone ever since that party.”

It was like a light bulb went on in Higuruma’s mind, and he cleared his throat before saying, “well, I may just prove you wrong. Follow me.”

Not fully understanding what he meant by that, you stood by him while he paid for his coffee, got it and walked outside. The cold winter breeze prickled your cheeks and your uncovered neck like hair-thin razor blades, and you followed Higuruma towards a car that wasn’t all that strange to you. Upon further inspection, you noticed that it was indeed his car, the old navy blue beat up thing you used as a shield for the wind during that night when you tried and failed at least half a dozen times to light a cigarette.

And then met him, and gave him a vodka scare.

And helped patting him dry with your-

“Here,” he called out, opening the door to the back seat. Sure enough, you saw that red, frizzly old thing tangled up in a ball.

“My scarf!” you reached inside and took it out, instantly throwing it around your neck. Higuruma noticed how you were genuinely pleased to have finally found it, and thought to himself that he’d most likely feel the same way if he ever lost and found his beat up, old shawl. 

It was just one of those things imbued with a sense of history and familiarity that only beat up, old tokens from days past had.

“Thank you,” you whispered, while sliding your fingers through the worn out cotton. “It was a gift. I might complain about it more often than not, but-”

“But it’s an important part of your life,” he replied, and you both glanced at each other while you nodded.

“Yes. Something like that. It’s my favorite curse to carry around while complaining about it, you know?” you mused, adjusting it around your neck and gratefully welcoming the warmth it brought around your neck. 

“I think I do,” he answered finally, taking a sip from his coffee.

“Let me repay you,” you offered. “Can I offer you a snack, or anything? Perhaps a smoke?”

“I’ll take you up on that cigarette offer,” he replied, and you pulled your pack out of your coat. Giving it a few taps, a cigarette popped up, and you took it in your lips, pulling another one and handing it to him.

Against his better judgement, Higuruma was slightly disappointed, and for a second, felt like kicking himself over it.

Idiot, you can’t seriously be expecting her to light a cigarette for me every time she offers you a smoke. Actually, I shouldn’t expect that at all.

 Against his will, Higuruma felt his cheeks warming up, and he tried his best to dive his face into his shawl while politely took the cigarette off your hands. You didn’t notice his moves and offered him your lighter — the same yellow, disposable one he had given you days ago. He picked it up, lit his cigarette and returned it.

“I see you still have it,” Higuruma noted, smiling gently, and you acquiesced.

“It has been my faithful companion for these past few weeks. I’m just glad I haven’t lost it like I lost my scarf,” you said before chuckling.

Higuruma leaned over the guardrail with his elbows, finally relaxing after… God knows how long. Slowly, he seemed to be getting lost in thought, and you seized the opportunity to better look at his shawl.  It had a sunflower pattern that went in a straight line right in front of it.

Still looking around as he stewed in his silent contemplations, you noticed there was a bag laying on top of his passenger’s seat. Peeping through it, stood a single sunflower, and what seemed to be the top of a Kirin bottle.

A sunflower man, hm?

The thought amused you as the corners of your mouth perked up in a gleeful smile, but you were quickly pulled out from it.

“Do you work nearby?” he asked, while taking a drag from his cigarette. “This is far from campus.”

“No. I mean, not yet. I was just… chasing my dreams,” you remarked, puffing some smoke. “What about you, Professor?”

Higuruma chuckled softly.

“I was being haunted by mine.”

You must’ve looked puzzled, because he quickly amended, “I was just on my way to visit someone and took a break for some coffee, that’s all.”

“Oh, I see,” you replied, realizing you were probably getting in his way. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you from your appointment. I-”

“It’s okay, there’s no one waiting for me. Or so I like to think.”

That comment left you with more questions than answers.

“Apologies. I don’t mean to keep you from going about the rest of your day too,” he bid behind a curtain of smoke, “and thank you for the cigarette. I really needed it.”

With your final puffs, you put your cigarette out and smiled at Higuruma.

“It’s okay, Professor. I should really get going, though. We are, indeed, far from campus and I’d like to get to my dorm before it’s dark.”

With a bow, you walked away, leaving Higuruma to his own devices. He sighed, alone with himself and his thoughts once again, turning his attention once more to the bag he had inside his car.

“Hiromi,” a familiar voice called out. Higuruma turned around, only to be met by Nanami, who had a indecipherable expression on his face.

Minutes before, Nanami decided to visit the nearby cafe and check if they had his favorite casse croûte that day. He wouldn’t mind getting a croissant, though.

 Upon stepping outside his building with dreams of pastries swirling around his overworked mind, he noticed you and Higuruma outside the cafe, and figured that was the perfect opportunity to approach you both and introduce you as the new intern for the criminal law department. It was just a matter of time before Higuruma accepted his offer, as Nanami thought, and you’d be both working together. However, before he could, Nanami noticed you and Higuruma were chatting, and not only that, but you approached Higuruma’s car and got something — apparently belonging to you — from his back seat. The ugliest red scarf Nanami had ever seen.

… What?

Nanami then remembered that you were a student on the very same university he tended to.

The same one in which Higuruma was a teacher too.

Why does Hiromi have things belonging to a student in the backseat of his car, of all places?  

Nanami was at a loss for words, and faltered for a few moments, wondering how he should ask Hiromi about this. That is, if he even should ask Hiromi about anything at all. Nanami decided to watch from afar, and something about the way Higuruma was carrying himself bothered Nanami.

He had only seen his best friend behaving like that in very specific scenarios, ones in which Hiromi definitely shouldn’t be interacting with a student of his.

After you left, Kento finally walked towards Hiromi, still uncertain if he should question his friend about the nature of your relationship with him. He could be imagining things.

But something was definitely disturbing him, he was sure of it. Something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“Kento, hi! Oh… I had forgotten, your firm is nearby, isn’t it?” Hiromi asked while looking around. “Sorry, I always seem to forget where it is. That explains why this cafe felt so familiar. Care for a smoke?”

“No.”

“You haven’t smoked with me in a long time,” Higuruma offered, pulling his own cigarette pack from his coat’s inner pocket. 

“I quit years ago,” Nanami reminded him, trying to put an end to this conversation detour.

“You still smoke on special occasions,” Higuruma offered, “eh, I wish I had your resolve.”

“You do, you just fail to direct it at things that will benefit you in the long run.”

“Just my little human shortcoming, I guess,” Higuruma finally replied, sparing Nanami a soft smile. He walked towards his car while unlocking it, “Let’s have something to eat, the coffee opened up my appetite. I just need to get more coins in case I end up going over the meter’s time limit, hold on.”

“Hiromi,” Nanami said once again, his tone graver than usual. That caught Higuruma’s attention.

“Hm, is everything okay?” Higuruma asked while leaning into his car.

Before Nanami could go on with his planned line of inquiry, he noticed what was over passenger’s seat. Especially the sunflower.

“Are you at it again?” Nanami asked, gesturing with his head towards it.

“Ah, you saw it…” Higuruma commented, as if he was a child being caught red handed while making a mess out of the house. “Well, yes. I’m trying to, and failing at it once again.”

“You know you don’t have to go, right?” Kento offered, while pulling some change from his pocket. “I have coins, we’ll be fine. Let me get you a snack, this cafe has the best casse croute around.”

“I do have to go, though,” Higuruma closed the door and stepped back onto the sidewalk. “I should, at least.”

Higuruma’s earlier energy seemed to wane ever so slightly, his shoulders falling while he slouched, unconsciously making himself smaller. 

“I don’t think I’ll manage to do it today, either,” he finally said, his eyes low on his feet, and his voice barely above a whisper.

Assessing the situation, it was clear that Higuruma was in no way in the right mindset to have that conversation regarding you, so Nanami put a mental note on it to ask about it at a later time. He stepped beside Hiromi and put a hand gently on his shoulder, sighing.

“Is it low tar?” Nanami questioned, clearing his throat to disguise his displeasure.

“Hm, what?”

“Your cigarette. Is it low tar?”

Higuruma huffed, a tiny smile forming on his lips as he said, “yes, yes it is.”

In a smooth motion, Higuruma pulled his pack back out of his coat and took two cigarettes out of it, handing one to Nanami along with a lighter. With the disposition of a man ready to face the electric chair, Kento pursed his lips around the cigarette, and lit it, only to be thrown in a coughing fit moments later.

“How the mighty do fall,” Higuruma noted with a discreet smirk on his lips, “you used to smoke more than me.”

“Shut up,” Nanami managed to churn out in between coughs, “this brand is awful.”

His friend chuckled while taking one long drag from his cigarette.

“Hey, Kento.”

“What?” Nanami considered tossing the cigarette as far as he could, but tried his best to survive it, even if just for Hiromi’s benefit.

“Is that offer still on the table? To…” Hiromi paused for a moment, clearing his throat, “hm, work in your firm?”

Managing to get his throat and lungs under control, Nanami glanced at Hiromi, knowing full well that good things came to those who wait.

Just like he had.

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

Hi, did you know I like to shamelessly plug people's work? No? So, yeah. I love doing that.

I got this STUNNING commission from @radish-breath and I have no shame to admit that I scrumpt a scream never screamt before when I got this 😭💜 I think you should go check out her work if you still haven't, lots of great sfw and nsfw pieces (all truly delectable 🤌) - Twitter | Patreon | Carrd.

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Tag list (updated):

@arusearu @yammy-yammy-yama @redlikerozez @killerplink

@alwaysfreakingout @murderofravens @cmdrfupa @higurumapet @cindyneko-strider 

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@soft--cherry @quinnyundertow @traffi @shibataimu @shimadalluvia

[cherie-doll]

how do you think the cod men would react to you hiding an injury (from a mission) from them?

(annoyed i had a draft of this ready but my laptop decided to act up and i lost it, so i had to rewrite it again)

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Hiding An Injury From Them

ઇଓ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

it wasn't until after the mission that he noticed you clutching your side, your hand curved protectively over the wound that was surely getting worse by the minute or so he feared

he insisted on taking you to the medic right away, and as you were being examined he stayed right outside the room, he really wished you had told him, he was captain so he had to know if one of his had been injured

you were left to rest but the next day he came back, when you awoke he was there by your bedside, "why didn't you tell me?"

he just wants you to know that you need to trust him, he's more worried than anything on why you didn't come to him, did you not trust him?

Ghost

while you were seeking shelter he noticed the way you limped, you hadn't said anything but anyone who looked at you could see how terribly you tried to hide your pain

he sighs and trudges towards you, as if annoyed he has to do this, but he takes you aside and has you show him the injury, it wasn't as bad as he thought it was which is why he's a little relieved

as he bandages you up he's mostly silent, he wanted to scold you, to say something to get this feeling off his chest but when you gasp in pain when his fingers apply too much pressure he can't bring himself to be annoyed at you

you're left feeling the phantom touch of his fingers and how he gentled when he saw you wince in pain

Soap

you two were almost always assigned together or ended up finding one another and watching each other's back, so you were always in his subconscious; he just couldn't let anything happen to you

yet, in the blink of an eye it had happened, you brushed it off as being just fine, that it was only the debris and nothing more, nothing vital had been hit

but when you went back to base and he didn't see you around for a couple of days and found out you had been sent to recovery he rushed to find you, "you told me you were fine!", and he's upset you weren't honest when he asked

you two were a team...always working together so he definitely gets cross about the matter for a little while afterwards but not for long because he's still checking up and asking how you're holding up

Gaz

when you were a rookie you went to him for almost everything, he was the one you felt safest with and he had treated you with the most respect even if you were still learning and made mistakes

so he couldn't help but feel forgotten or sidelined when you didn't tell him about your injury, in fact, you weren't planning on telling anyone because you didn't want to make a 'big deal' out of it, you had been doing so well and you didn't want anyone to know you had messed up

yet, he found you taking painkillers and stuffing rags of blood down to the bottom of the trashcan, "how long have you been covering this?!" as he rushed to take care of it for you

he was stunned to find out you had been trying to take care of it yourself, still he remained patient as he somewhat understand why you did it

Roach

he went into panic thinking something worse would happen if you didn't tell someone right away, but you tried to tell him it wasn't that bad as a knife was sticking out of your leg

neither of you knew what to do other than informing someone, as help was on the way he shushed you and was 'calming' you down when you weren't even showing distress

he loves being helpful when he can so he stuck around to see if there was anything you needed whether that be emotional support or medicine; he was ready to help

Alejandro

he'd mutter a few curses before ordering some soldiers around to get an emergency kit, you try to move into a more comfortable position but he scolds you to hold it, you're making it worse

"this is serious you idiot, stuff like this can't be held off until later" and he might go off into a long rant but really he's trying to distract his mind as he cleans your wound and wraps it

he implements a new rule; everyone must report what they're doing or what has happened to them at all times during a mission, doesn't matter if they're taking a dump or if they got a papercut they gotta report that too

really he's just worried you'll get hurt and he won't be there in time to aid you

Rudy

he's all over you, anxious and troubled that one, you were injured and second, you were intentionally hiding it from him! he's more disappointed than anything

"i'm so sorry, you'll be fine.. i promise" he comforts as you're being patched up and treated, it probably hurt him more than you but you swear he's being a little over the top

back at base, there is not a day that goes by without him coming by to see you and bringing something for you, he doesn't even get mad at you for trying to hide the injury from him, he most likely forgot

Phillip Graves

"no, no- fuck, why?!" he focused in on solely you when a soldier told him about the injury you were trying to hide, but he cares too much, and you've seen how he is with his Shadows, of course he wouldn't let something like this slip by him

doesn't matter if you can walk yourself but you're not doing anything without assistance anymore until you're completely healed, it's sort of heartwarming in a way

he makes it very clear that this doesn't happen again, and you think he's talking about the injury but no he's referring to you hiding that you're hurt, he doesn't mind offering help he just doesn't want you suffering in silence

Makarov

he can't help but feel guilty, he should've known the risk for sending you out there and now the result is you needing emergency care, thankfully you weren't in too much pain

still, to him this is very serious, "this is serious! tell me what happened, who did it?", he's ready to go out there and find the bastard who had the audacity to do this, but you tell him it was kind of your own fault because everything had gone well it was actually due to your clumsiness that you had stumbled and hurt yourself on the way back

he doesn't know if that's another lie but since you seem better now he'll take it

Keegan

you've seen how much he yells during missions, so you know you're in for a reprimand the moment he figures out you're hurt, it's just a matter of time until he notices

strangely, when he does notice the blood through your clothes his eyes only widen as he points out the stained cloth and then gets to work silently as he uncovers the wound

you nervously try to tell him it's not that bad and he shouldn't be fussing over it but he just rolls his eyes, "not that bad you say? are you even looking at it?"

yeah it was pretty bad

König

he gets nervous the moment you show the slightest sign of discomfort so it's no strange that you'd hide an injury he's surely freak out over, you just don't want to cause him to lose focus

little do you know, the other soldiers are his eyes and ears as they report to him your injuries, he comes and says it's best you go back to base a little earlier, you protest thinking it's not fair that the others have sustained worse injuries yet they still have to keep going forward with the mission

but he just wants to prevent you from getting hurt worse and being so far away from a medic who could treat you end up with terrible health complications

Horangi

you and him tended to play around during missions, as if not taking them seriously, until it resulted in you getting hurt, he went serious after that even though to tried brushing it off

he could see you tense up a bit, your body sensitive to the throbbing pain that was begging to be taken care of, you needed rest and you weren't going to give it what it needed, he really wished he could be more caring and nurturing in this moment

he can only tell you to breathe slowly, to focus on the stars above you right now and hope you got to a medic soon, he wants you to realize you're not fine and that this could have been prevented, if only he had been more on guard

Nikto

he's seen people get their arm blown off, maybe even lose a leg and he barely bats an eye at it, so why is he constantly looking over at you who seems to be suppressing pain?

to him if blood isn't noticeable then it's no reason for alarm, and even then a little blood never hurt anyone, but your throbbing pain only gets stronger and he can see it in your eyes, the desperation and how you wish you had painkillers right now

while everyone else is asleep he orders you to tell him what's hurting and he tries his best to take care of it, he's built a high pain tolerance over the years but will feel disquieted when you appear worn out

[lazysoulwriter]

Shield of Love - Pedro Pascal.

The early morning sunlight peeked through the blinds, casting soft golden patterns across the hardwood floor. You were curled up on the couch, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Pedro walked into the room with two cups of coffee, his presence always grounding, always warm. He smiled as he handed you one, but there was something slightly hesitant in his expression.

It wasn’t new, this subtle tension. Lately, he had become a little more overbearing, always holding your hand in public, shooting warning glances at any man who so much as smiled in your direction. You adored Pedro—he was your rock, your comfort—but it had started to feel stifling. You knew he meant well, but it was time to address it.

“Pedro,” you started softly, placing your coffee down on the table. He glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly.

“What’s wrong, cariño?”

You hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “I’ve noticed how… protective you’ve been lately. I mean, you’re always protective, but it feels different now. Almost like you don’t trust something—or someone.”

His face flushed immediately, his dark eyes darting away from yours. He sat down beside you, his knee brushing yours. “I—I don’t know what you mean,” he stammered, the tips of his ears turning red.

You tilted your head, giving him a knowing look. “Pedro, I’m not upset. I just… Is it jealousy? Or are you worried about something I don’t know about?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. “It’s not jealousy,” he mumbled. “It’s just… you’re younger than me. Not by a lot, I know, but enough that it makes me—” He cut himself off, shaking his head.

“Enough that it makes you what?” you pressed gently.

“Worried,” he admitted quietly. “Worried that people will judge you, or us. That someone will think they can take advantage of you. You’re my baby, and I just—I want to protect you from everything.”

Your heart softened at his confession, and you reached out to take his hand. “Pedro, I don’t need you to shield me from the world. I chose you, and I’ll keep choosing you, no matter what anyone else thinks.”

He looked at you then, his eyes glassy and full of vulnerability. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to make you feel suffocated. I just love you so much, and sometimes I don’t know how to handle it.”

You leaned forward, brushing a kiss against his lips. “I love you too. But you don’t have to handle it alone. We’re a team, remember?”

He smiled at that, his usual confidence returning as he pulled you into his arms. “A team,” he echoed. “And I promise, I’ll ease up. But don’t think for a second that I’m not going to keep calling you my baby. Because you are.”

You laughed, burying your face in his chest. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

In that moment, all the tension melted away, leaving only love and understanding in its place.

[minnlahzz]

Alain Relationship Headcanons.

requested.

alain, alain... i hate french people, but ig he gets a pass because his pokemon are sick!! sorry for the delay of this request, procrastination gets the best of me

alain isn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. he’s reserved, almost to a fault (dangerously nonchalant 😔🙏) and it takes time to understand how he shows affection. he’s not one for grand declarations, but his loyalty and quiet care speak volumes. you might not get a lot of words from him, but his actions leave no room for doubt.

alain would never confess first–not because he doesn't care, but because he's too cautious. (also because he doesn't know how he would talk to you about this, considering he's still young and doesn't want to look like a fool infront of you) you guys have a great friendship already, why ruin it with all that mushy stuff? even if it's obvious you like him back, he's not quick to make assumptions and sees this as your 'friendly gestures,' which definitely killed you as he ignored all your signs BLINDLY. so realistically you would have to confess first.

when you confess to him, he just zones out trying to process what you said. almost like he didn't believe that you liked him back. It would go something along the lines of this.

you weren't planning on confessing, and especially not today. it just slipped out of your mouth while you guys were hanging out. “i think i’m in love with you,”

alain blinked, turning to look at you like you’d just spoken gibberish. “what did you just say to me?” he heard it loud and clear, he just didn't understand why you said that.

“nothing!”

“...you’re terrible at lying.” (he likes you back)

for him, actions speak louder than words. that's why his love language is 100% acts of service. he’s not great at expressing his feelings, but he’ll go out of his way to do it for you. need help with something? already done. forgot your umbrella? he’s there with one even before it started getting cloudy.

alain is okay with pda, as long as its not excessive or like frequent. holding hands? sure, why not. hugs? yup! kiss? sure, but only on the cheek.

he’s very observant and notices things about you that even you might overlook. if you’re stressed or upset, he’ll pick up on it right away, even if you’re trying to hide it.

alain can be quite protective, but not the point of being overbearing. he trusts that you can handle yourself, but if ever someone tries to mess with you, they're going to face alains charizard!!

arguments with him are rare, but when they happen, they’re intense. he’s not the type to yell or lose his temper, but his stubbornness can make things drag out longer than they need to. he hates conflict, so he’ll sometimes shut down instead of addressing the issue right away. it’s frustrating, but once he’s had time to think, he’ll come back to make up.

dates with alain aren’t traditional, and honestly, they might not even feel like dates at first. like a walk through the streets of lumiose city or spending time at a Pokémon Center while Charizard gets checked up. it’s less about the activity and more about being with you in a way that feels natural to him. he tries his best though!!

he's not that romantic let me make that clear, but his silliness is somehow charming in a way. he does hilarious things without noticing, and he'd just stare at you confused on what you're laughing about. he's the type of guy who would give you flowers randomly and then say "it was on sale..."

one time, you walked in on him mid-rant about how the weather was today, and charizard was just sitting there nodding like it understood. when he noticed you, he got all defensive: “what? it’s not weird.” yeah, okay, whatever you say alain...

rating time!! 8/10 he's actually really fun to be around despite his cold demeanor and nonchalant dread head energy, he's dependable and genuinely cares for your well being, but his communication skills are through the floor because its almost non–existent! goodluck showing him to your parents...

[evans23]

Daughter of mine V

Pairing : Judge Turpin x Daughter OC

Summary : Richard's daughter fell ill just before Christmas and he can only pray for a miracle.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : A bit of angst. Mention of prostitution and death. Awkward father. If I forget something, please mention it to me !

A/N: Hello dear 😁 Merry Christmas to all of you !

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV

Also read on AO3 - Wattpad

It had not taken more than one day for Catherine to fall ill after having spent the whole day outside, playing in the snow. Not a small cough or a low fever. No. A severe pneumonia.

Richard, beside himself, had threatened to fire the governess for having let his daughter rolling in the snow like a dog. Snow angels ! Only uneducated children enjoyed making snow angels. Not his daughter who had then stayed out the whole day with her damp clothes until his return.

If it hadn't been for the intervention of Anne and the butler, Richard would have fired her immediately.

"My lord, think with care how much Catherine likes her. it would break her heart to know that because of her and her illness, her governess was fired," Anne said, among a hundred other pleas that had had no effect on Richard decision.

This one, however had shaken him a little bit. Enough to make him change his mind. He didn't want to upset his daughter, not at a time when she didn't even have the strength to hold a glass of water in her hands.

It had started with a slight cough at the end of supper, a cough that had turned into an interminable coughing fit before bedtime. By the time it was time to go to bed, Catherine was burning with fever and Turpin had ordered for his doctor to be fetch urgently. The man had arrived in a hurry and had ordered that Catherine stay in bed until further notice.

"If she doesn't feel better in the morning, send someone to fetch me," he told Richard.

In the morning, Catherine was shivering, her fever had not gone down and she couldn't even stand the light of the day as her eyes made her suffer.

"Dad, it hurts everywhere in my body. Make the pain ebb away, dad," she begged Richard.

He had pretended to be indifferent to his daughter's plea in front of the servants, but as soon as he had reached his office in the Courthouse, his usual mask of coldness and stoicism had fallen, letting the worry etched on his features.

A servant had come during the day to tell him what the doctor had said. What should have just been a cold had evolved in less than one night into pneumonia. The child had to stay in bed and drink as much fluids as possible. She also had to eat a little, even if it was painful for her sore throat. It was the only way for her to keep her strength and recover.

That day, Richard had been more severe than usual, if it was possible. He had not temper justice with mercy at all. And if the man summoned to the bar had no good excuse for being sent to the Australian colonies, or better yet, hanged, he trusted The Beadle to make up an excuse so that he could administer the harshest sentences. However, for the first time, lashing out his anger in this way had done no good to him.

On his way home, he had stopped at the doctor's place to hear from him what he thought of Catherine's condition.

"Richard, she is frail, smaller than a child of her age should be and her constitution is much more fragile than normal," he had kindly answered.

"What does that mean ? She's not the first child with a weak constitution to fall ill. Many of them recover and reach adulthood. Look at that idiot of James, not only has he reached the more than respectable age of eighty years, but on top of that he has managed to reproduce himself and his son managed to do so after him, forcing me to have to put up with that bumbling of Matthew !" Turpin fumed.

It wasn't in his habits to let his emotions dominate him, but he knew that the doctor was right. Catherine was weaker than children of her age. No doubt it was due to the poor conditions in which she had grown up until she was seven, the lack of food that could have helped her grow and strengthen her immune system, the lack of time spent outdoors breathing fresh air and being in contact with other less serious diseases. Or maybe it was simply bad luck. After all, some children, even in the upper class, were born more delicate than others. At least in a rich family they were lucky enough to be treated by the best doctors and to have the best possible care. Catherine didn't sleep in a bed with rags for a blanket but in a big warm bed, in a room with a fireplace that her maid made sure to keep lit day and night. She would recover. She had to recover or Turpin wouldn't survive it, he knew it even though he tried so hard to lie to himself.

"The truth is, Richard, I cannot predict whether Catherine will recover or not. She is very young and the disease has spread in no time. It is one of the most severe pneumonias I have ever seen."

Richard looked at the doctor, disillusioned. The man had decades of experience, if he said that Catherine's condition was more than worrying, then he was telling the truth.

"But can she recover ?" Richard asked, his mask of stoicism still in place even if inside he was boiling with fear and rage.

"Of course. But I can't promise anything. Only time and the evolution of her condition will tell us if we can hope or not." the physician replied while handing over other bottles of a syrup that was supposed to help Catherine feel better.

Richard plunged his steely gaze into the doctor's ones, to probe his sincerity, but he saw no deception in them. When he returned that evening, Anne told him that the little girl's condition had deteriorated a little more and that she had swallowed nothing, neither water nor food, as her throat was causing her horribly pain.

Richard immediately went to her side, only to find that his laboured breathing and coughing were making it impossible for her to fall asleep.

"Da...dad," she spluttered.

"Catherine, you need to eat," Richard ordered as he saw an untouched plate on the nightstand.

"Not...not hungry," the sleepy child replied.

"My informants also told me that you have been refusing to drink. You will not recover if you do not hydrate yourself properly and regain your strength by eating."

With that, Richard took one of the toasts that rested on the plate and brought it to the child's mouth.

"No, daddy, please," she whined.

Helplessly, Richard put it down, but when he brought a glass of water to her mouth, he remained unyielding until she finished it. He then placed a hand on her forehead to see that it was burning, even more than in the morning. Her nightgown and sheets were soaked with sweat, so he ordered the servants to prepare a bath and change the bedding.

Catherine's maid took care of her in the bathroom, putting various essential oils including peppermint in the bath water to try to relieve the child's muscular aches and milder symptoms.

When she took her back to her bed, Richard was still there, a pitcher of water at his side. He was determined to see Catherine hydrate herself properly and eat a little. This took a great deal of patience, a patience he didn't know he had. He finally managed to coax her by promising to read for her if she ate half her toast, finished the whole pitcher of water by the end of the day, and took her medication without complain.

Later that evening, when she interrupted his reading to complain that her head was killing her, Richard rubbed diluted peppermint oil on her forehead and told her to sleep. Unfortunately, the poor child got no rest that night, the cough keeping her awake all night, making her vomit, and making the pain in her chest unbearable.

By the end of the week, Catherine's condition had not worsened, but it had not improved either. She was paler than the snow that had delighted her so much a week before, and her wheezing did not bode well.

The doctor was still unable to say whether Catherine would make it or not and could only give her the proper medication and ordering that she be kept in bed, kept warm, and forced to drink plenty of fluids and eat a little every day.

"Would a trip to the seaside do her any good ?" Richard asked.

He remembered his mother being sent to the coast when he was a child to recover from a similar pneumonia. But his mother was much better-built than Catherine and had a strong will.

"If it were summer, yes, but travelling in this changeable weather is not advisable. You might get stuck in the middle of the English countryside in the snow. Besides, the journey might be too tiring for her," the doctor had replied, "it would be best to keep her nice and warm here."

Two weeks later, Catherine was still not feeling better, and Richard was a bundle of nerves. Anything could send him into a fiery rage, even The Beadle had experienced it several times. At the manor, none of the servants dared to upset him. They scattered like mice as soon as they heard him arrive, only to disappear before suffering his wrath. To add to his bad mood, the festivities for the end of the year were beginning to be in full swing throughout London.

Richard had always hated Christmas. This holiday was linked to too many bad memories. Only bad memories. Despite Catherine's presence, it had not occurred to him to celebrate this cursed holiday or to decorate the house. He might have done so if she had asked him to, but she hadn't had the chance since she had fallen ill before. And now she might not even survive Christmas.

"My Lord, you need some rest," Anna said authoritatively.

Turpin gave her a dark look that didn't disturb him in the least.

"You will be of no use to anyone if you fall ill too. Catherine needs you by her side, in good health. Go and get some sleep, My Lord."

Richard told her coldly to mind her own business and the old maid left, but after she had gone he sighed heavily and listened to her. She was right, if he continued like this it was not one Turpin but two who would need to be taken care of and he couldn't afford to falter when his daughter needed him most.

Catherine would ask for him whenever he got home from the Courthouse. For the first time in years, Richard made a point of coming home before eight o'clock, his daughter's official bedtime, although she only slept fitfully now, when her persistent cough offered her some respite.

He would read her a few pages every night, put a few drops of peppermint on her forehead and a few drops of eucalyptus on her throat in the hope of helping her breathe to go better. He would kiss her on the forehead, wishing her some rest before retiring to his own rooms, where he would doze off like a log every night. Every morning, he would wake up hoping that she would be feeling a little better, but so far his hopes had always been dashed away.

However, there had been a glimmer of hope one morning, two weeks before Christmas, when her cheeks were slightly flushed and she seemed more awake than she had been before. She had eaten, not that much but at least three meals and had drunk water and tea with lemon and honey throughout the day, much to the relief of the household and her father who thought this was the beginning of her recovery.

That evening, when Richard had gone to join her to read her a few pages of a new book he had specially bought for her, she had talked to him about the hated holiday, as he had dreaded.

"Dad, when are we going to decorate the manor?" she had asked in a hoarse voice.

He hadn't answered. Instead he had asked her if she usually celebrated Christmas with her mother. She had answered that she had and that she had received gifts every year even though she knew that it was her mother who put them under the tree and that it was not much. A comb, an old second-hand book, a dress that her mother had taken up for her. Nevertheless, on Christmas Day, Elena didn't work and spent the whole day with her daughter making gingerbread cookies and reading her stories and that was all it took to make Catherine happy.

Because that day Catherine had been a little more lively and because she had worried about whether Christmas would take place or not, to her father's great disappointment, the whole Turpin manor had thought that the following days would see the child's recovery.

Unfortunately, the next day, her fever was higher than ever and she was coughing so much that she had ended up coughing up blood. The doctor had been called immediately and his diagnosis was not good.

"Richard, I don't want to be a bad omen, but you have to prepare for the worst..."

The doctor didn't have time to add anything before Richard's voice thundered throughout the manor as he ordered him to leave the premises immediately, which the man did but not before entrusting a list of medicines and herbs that should relieve the little girl to Anne.

Richard, who was drowning himself into his work to forget that his daughter was dying, hardly spent any time at the manor anymore. It was now Anne who took care of reading her stories and making her take her medicine. Catherine hardly ate anymore, and she, who was already not very thick, was now nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones. All the employees of the manor prayed to see the little girl recover while she did not stop asking for a father who didn't have the courage to see her waste away.

Colder and harsher than ever, Richard's judgments terrified even his colleagues, but not one of them would dare to make the slightest remark to him. Even The Beadle trembled when his boss called him into his office for fear of incurring unjustified wrath.

"You're an idiot," Anne told him one evening when he came home almost past midnight.

Richard had frozen, his eyes flashing. Anyone else would have shrunk in fear before him, but not the old woman who had seen far more worst.

"It's very cold outside and fresh snow will probably fall in a few days, it's to be feared, but trust me, I will have no mercy in throwing you out if you speak to me like that one more time," he had hissed coldly.

"I have no doubt. You have no heart, my lord. Only a heartless man would let his child call him in vain day and night."

And with these words being said, she had left him on the threshold of the still open door. Indeed, day and night, Catherine cried, screamed, begged for him to come and join her, but he couldn't bear to see her like this. He was going to lose her, he knew it and he cursed himself for having allowed himself to let her cross the walls he had erected all around him and the barrier of ice around his heart that had protected him all these years from the sorrow of life.

"Sir ?" said the butler's voice.

Richard, who was in his parlour, raised his head to acknowledge his presence. The butler brought him something to eat and a brandy, his favourite. He placed the tray and the bottle of alcohol on Richard's desk, but as he was about to take his leave, he hesitated, biting his lip.

"Something askew ?" asked Richard arching an eyebrow.

Upstairs, Catherine tossed and turned, her fever having soaked her sheets once again. She had vomited several times after having uncontrollable coughing fits and her fever was making her delirious. She had called her mother several times and had even mistaken her governess for the late woman several times, begging her to relieve her of her ordeal.

"Sir... I believe you must know something," the butler finally said in a cautious voice.

"And what ?" Richard thundered.

"You should ask Anne about that night in March when your mother asked to meet your Elena," and with that, the butler left without asking for more.

Surprised, his mouth hanging open, Richard remained unresponsive. The butler couldn't know about his past with Catherine's mother, since he didn't work for him yet. What on earth had Anne told him about ?

"You asked for me ?" asked the old maid he had immediately summoned.

"I don't know if I'm mad with rage or just disappointed. A bit of both, I guess," he hissed, his voice cold and sharp as a blade.

"What do you mean, my lord ?" asked the old woman, confused.

"What right do you have to talk about my private life with the employees ? You're not paid to spread gossip !"

Anne immediately understood what he was referring to.

"No one else knows except your butler. I told him because..."

She fell silent, hesitant, but Richard's look made her understand that she had no choice but to tell him the truth.

"He and I are having an affair. I know he can be trusted, and I confided to him because my heart ached for you, my lord, and for little Catherine," she said in one breath.

Richard, stunned by the news, might have been amused about the new of his head maid and his butler having an affair if his daughter were not struggling and losing the fight for her life upstairs.

"And what did he mean about that March night?"

"That night, my lord, I confess, I eavesdropped at the door..."

Richard was not ready to hear the maid's confidences. Because they called to question everything he had believed until now.

That March night, Richard's mother had had Elena brought by force to the manor where she lived with her husband near Windsor. There, she had threatened her on the purpose to force her to leave Richard. She, a girl of nothing, from a family of nothing, without a name, without a title, without money. Never could the Turpin name have been more sullied than with this whore who had given herself to their son without even being married. But the young woman, unyielding, had refused to accede to her mother's request. Elena had resisted, even when she had been threatened to be brought to Turpin's father, a violent man who would beat her until she listened to reason, or who would have killed her.

Seeing that nothing could convince Elena to give up Richard, her mother, perfidious, vile creature, had adopted another tactic. It was not Elena she was going to attack but her own son. She would have him disinherited, something she would have had no trouble to convince his father to do, she would have him disowned and he would lose everything. His title, his prestige, his job at the Court of London, his brand new wealth and his brand new manor whose he was so proud. If Elena refused to leave Richard, then she would destroy her son. And Elena, madly in love with Richard, had agreed to sacrifice her own happiness for the man she loved more than anything in the world. More than her own life.

"You know your parents would have done it without a regret," Anne said at the end of her story.

Oh yes, he knew it. His parents, those cold and distant beings who only lived for appearances would have had no regrets in throwing their one and only heir in poverty, only because he didn't meet the standard of his rank.

"Did she know ? About the child ?" Richard asked, his voice betraying his dismay.

"I do not know, my lord. No pregnancy was mentioned that night."

"Thank you Anne."

Without a glance at the maid, Richard, his gait stiff, left his property without even bothering to put on a coat as the wind whistled all its rage outside, making the windows of the manor shake.

Air, he needed air. Elena. His Elena. The one he had cursed every night since she had left him without a word, disappearing like a shadow in the night, his Elena had acted out of pure love for him, to protect him. And when he had the chance to help her, to bring her back on the right path, to give her a roof over her head and a decent life, that night when he had seen her in that brothel, he had preferred to look the other way and leave her for what he thought she was then : a common whore who deserved nothing better than the life of a slut she was leading.

Richard fell to his knees on the steps of St Paul's Cathedral.

"Oh, Elena ! What have I done !"

For the first time since he was eight, the age at which, after having been beaten to a pulp by his father for having stolen a cupcake from the kitchen, he had sworn he would never cry again, Richard began to sob.

His Elena had died because of her family. Because of him. And now his daughter was going to die. Turpin, that name was cursed ! It was cursed ! Everything that was beautiful and brought him a little joy and love was destined to wither and die at his side.

"Sir, are you all right ?"

Richard jumped. In front of him stood a priest.

"I... I..." he stammered.

It was the first time Richard was speechless. The man of God invited him to go inside the cathedral to get out of the rain.

"Do you want to talk ?" he offered.

"No. Not with you," Richard replied coldly.

"With him then ?" the priest offered, pointing to the cross of Christ.

He gently squeezed Richard's shoulder before leaving him alone with himself and his thoughts. Richard didn't know if he was a believer or not. He had been raised as an Anglican, but his profession had long since led him to believe that he himself was a god, with the power of life and death over those brought before him in the Courthouse.

No, Richard did not believe in any god. If there was a god, he would not let gentle women like Elena end up selling their bodies and dying in poverty. He would not let children be beaten for things they did not do, he would not let women be raped in the dark streets of London. He would not take his daughter from him. But just in case he was wrong and a higher power was there, ready to listen, he prayed for Catherine. Just in case.

He returned to the manor several hours later, soaking wet, and Anne immediately ordered a bath for their master while she brought him a hot drink and wrapped him in a thick bath towel.

"Anne, ask the servant to have the manor decorated," Richard asked, his voice less steady than usual;

"My lord?"

"Catherine asked me if the manor would be decorated for Christmas. It will be. Ask the servant to get to work on it tomorrow," he ordered before heading to the bathroom.

"Yes, my lord," the servant replied, amazed.

Never since she had worked for him had she seen the manor decorated for the holidays. Yet, the next evening, when Richard had returned from the Courthouse, the entire manor was breathing the festive spirit.

He had gone to his daughter's bedside, a plate of gingerbread cookies and a cup of warm milk in his hands. Too happy to see her father care about her, she had made the effort to eat a little and drink the whole cup, just to please Richard.

"You must try to sleep now," Richard told her, placing a kiss on her forehead.

He shivered as the fever that had been gone for the last two days and had now returned. During the night, a servant came to wake him to tell him that Catherine was vomiting blood and was barely breathing. The doctor had come as quickly as he could, but there was little more he could do.

"If she makes it through the night, then there's a chance she'll live," he had told Richard before leaving.

That night, Richard had returned to St. Paul's Cathedral. It was the day before Christmas Eve. Two days before that cursed day he hated more than anything in the world. His daughter, the apple of his eyes, could not die on the day she loved so much. She would not be one more bad memory to bear during this cursed holiday.

He came home late that night and went straight to her side to watch over her. Richard must have fallen asleep because the last thing he remembered was covering Catherine with an extra blanket after she complained about being cold, and now something was shaking him. He groaned in displeasure, cracking his eyes open to see what was disturbing his sleep.

"Catherine ?"

The little girl's eyes were wide open and the gray veil that had accompanied them for the last few weeks had faded. Beautiful colour had returned to her face and her fever had definitely broken.

"I'm hungry, dad," the little girl said hoarsely, her throat still scratchy from her days of coughing nonstop.

Richard laughed heartily, the joy invading him almost too much to bear. Food was immediately brought in and he watched her eat with gusto to his delight. The doctor had come once more, only to state that the worst was behind them.

"She must not go out. She must stay warm, but she can leave her bed. But no strenuous activities. And she must continue to take her medication until I say she can stop," he had ordered.

That afternoon, wrapped in a thick dressing gown and a woolen blanket, Richard had carried her around the manor to show her the decorations, Hector trotting happily beside them. The little dog had not left his little mistress's room during her bed rest and he seemed as happy as the rest of the household to see her recover.

Catherine's eyes lit up when she saw the many gifts waiting for her under the tree. She had never had so many presents just for her.

"But you can't open them until tomorrow," Richard reminded her kindly.

"Thanks, dad," she said, pressing her head against his neck.

Richard laughed, telling her to wait and see what the packages contained before thanking him. After all, she might be disappointed.

"No, I'll like them. I've never had anything new before."

Once again, Richard's heart sank at the child's words. He held her a little tighter, then carried her back to her bed. Early in the evening, she was again allowed to get up and accompany him to the parlour, where he made her comfortable on a sofa in front of the fire. He read her a Christmas Carol until she fell asleep.

When he had finished the book, he carefully lifted the frail, undersized body and carried his daughter back to her bed. He pulled the blanket up to her chin, making sure she was warm, Hector at the foot of the bed was watching over her. The fire crackled in the fireplace and fresh water had been brought along with more gingerbread cookies.

Richard stood for a moment watching his daughter sleep when the sound of bells startled him. He walked over to the window to watch London spread out before him, the moon reflected in the Thames, the church bells announcing Christmas. The bells of Christmas, which brought him good news with the unexpected recovery of his only child.

"I will take good care of her Elena," Turpin whispered into the night, "I have failed to be the husband you needed, but I will be the father Catherine needs. I will take good care of our daughter."

With that he turned, walked briskly to Catherine's bed and kissed her forehead. He blew out the many candles, leaving only one lit, and left the room, not without one last glance at the child's sleeping form.

"Merry Christmas, daughter of mine."

[lildoodlenoodle]

Ugh love her

[phagodyke]

woke up feeling ruffff but took my meds and went back to bed for a while n I feel a bit better

[flippedorbit]

you might as well just fucking call me by name at this fucking point

[teddybeartoji]

“look at me, hm?”

toji's voice is barely above a whisper, his words softer than ever. with his hands circled around your middle, he stands there behind you, his chest glued against your back like a big bear. his heavy head rests on your shoulder, eyes locked onto yours in a quiet plea. you think you hear a pout in his tone. 

but you don’t give him a reaction, gaze locked onto the vegetables on the cutting board in front of you.

you’re upset with him and toji feels like he's dying.

all of this just because you're jealous.

because the love of his life is jealous. 

toji only spared her a glance, brushing her off and saying that his partner is waiting for him – she’s the one that went on and on, talking about the milk carton in his hands as if toji had never seen it before. but little do you know, every single word that spilled from the stranger, went in one ear and right out the other – toji couldn’t be less interested in anybody other than you. if you were to crack open his head and take a look around, it’d be all you. you and your laugh, you and your eyes, you and your hands, you and your hobbies. you and you and you. even when he was standing there with the milk carton in his hand, the only thing on his mind was how he’s going to watch you chomp down a big bowl of cereal the next morning. 

you just happened to see the moment the woman leaned closer with a charming smile on her lips and her hand on his forearm while saying her goodbye, and that was enough for the ugly thoughts to bully themselves into your head.

even though you trust toji, you know he doesn’t entertain any flirting attempts that might come his way, but sometimes… sometimes you just can’t help but feel that you might not be enough. what if he did think the woman was more beautiful, or maybe he did find the guy, who asked for his help at the gym the other day, hot? what if he found them more interesting than you, what if he feels himself stuck to you against his will? 

you heard your own words swimming around in your head and cringed at yourself, ashamed that you were letting that weird growth of jealousy torment you.

but it had already taken root. 

that evil, ugly little thing in the back of your mind. and you couldn’t shake it.

not on your own at least. 

toji had made his way over to you, taking his place by your side while squinting at the little piece of paper in his hands. but you were quiet, more so than usual, and toji isn’t stupid – he might not be the best with feelings and emotions, but he does know you. 

he could tell just by the way you avoided his gaze, the way you started to shorten your answers. the way you pulled away and into yourself – he watched you disappear into your own head right in front of his eyes and he hated it. 

but not wanting to push any wrong buttons here in public, he swallowed your silence with a heavy heart and guided you to your car with a hand on your lower back. he’s not as afraid as he used to be – he isn’t as scared to step into your space, now knowing that this is just what you need sometimes. a little push, a little nudge, to break free from the vines of envy and jealousy and doubt. he’ll burn them, he’ll cut you free. 

the car ride home was quiet. with your head rested against the window and eyes set on the passing buildings and cars, toji found himself stealing glances at you every chance he got. oh, how he hated the pout on your lips, the very same one you’re wearing now. all he wanted to do was to take you into his arms and kiss you, hold you. to make you laugh. to make you forget every single thing that has ever bothered you.

toji let you simmer for exactly ten minutes, just enough for you to change into your pyjamas and to wash up before deciding on your distraction – the dishes. he snuck up on you as silently as he could; the tips of his fingers itched to feel your skin under them, his ears tired from the silence in the apartment. the sigh that you let out as he pressed himself flush against you, sounded better than anything before. toji had already started to miss you in those twenty minutes you were away from him. 

“please… “

it’s not often you get to hear that word, especially in that tone, so it’s hard for you to ignore the stuttering of your poor, sensitive heart. his nose nudges against your cheek and you put down the knife to lean into him on instinct; with your hands on top of his, your bodies mold together like pieces of a puzzle. 

“you know you’re the only one for me…” 

the words form in the back of his mouth and roll from his tongue like a low purr. they’re coated in something sweet, in something only you get to see and feel. his arms tighten around you and you know he means it. his heart beats against your back, as nervous as it is confident. he’s sure about his statement but a part of him is still scared that you won’t have him. that you’ll leave him. 

“she talked about the milk, that’s all she did, sweetheart.” gently, he sways your bodies side to side, letting the warmth of his body engulf you as he ropes you back to him.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“do you believe me?”

it’s something you’ve been practicing in order to get rid of any remaining specks of doubt. it goes both ways; he trusts that you’ll say what’s on your mind and you do the same. 

honesty. 

raw and real.

“yes.”

toji lets out a little puff of air through his nostrils, a wave of relief settling into his body. he knows it’s not over just yet, but it’s a start.

“can i kiss you?”

toji’s mossy green eyes meet yours for the first time in what feels like forever and all he can think about is how much you mean to him. his darling, his baby. he’s not one to be a sap, but hell, when it comes to you, he’s more than willing to drop to his knees and recite love poems for you if that’s what you’d like. anything and everything. 

he watches your eyes flick down to his mouth and then back up again and the little nod you give him is more than enough for him to finally press his lips to yours in a needy, hungry kiss. you melt into each other – skin against skin, tongue against tongue, it just feels right. the spark between you is still there, burning brighter than ever after all the time you’ve spent together. over hills and mountains, through lakes and rivers – nothing is too much or too little for the two of you to conquer together. he’ll be there for you and you’ll be there for him. 

“‘m all yours, sweetheart.”

his hushed words slip right between your lips and slither their way down your throat. inside, they bloom and they flourish. they overtake the rotting weeds that were growing there before and you feel it. you feel it happen. he breathes into you and you become alive again.

"i love you."

[stars-and-clouds]

Astarion Romance Headcanons 🥀

SFW:

Side glances when you're besides him

Full on staring when you're not

Immediately looking away when you catch him

"You know the way he looks at you, don't you, soldier?"

His pinky itching towards yours when you're walking, wanting to hold your hand but unsure because, is it too much? Will you reject him?

His hands scrunching up your shirt tightly whenever you hug. He's always the last to let go.

You hold on longer and longer each time because he doesn't want to let go.

His kisses are tender and needy.

He likes the warmth of your hands.

Thinking of what tones will suit your perfume the best. He'll gift it to you after all this is over.

He'll sew the holes or tears in your clothes over the night and pretend he doesn't know what happened next morning.

When you move to kiss his cheek he will grimace in annoyance but lean in as you do it.

"Be careful around Astarion, (Tav). He's not serious about you.", the others will warn you. And Astarion will worry you'll heed their words more than his so he'll do so much to prove his love to you, not knowing that you already trust him (even if that is an objectively stupid thing to do lmao).

He started sleeping next to you from the moment you had sex but ever since you've entered the shadowlands, he ends up cuddling in the middle of the night. He misses the sun.

He likes kissing the palm of your hand or its back.

Likes to pack your bag before you leave camp.

"No one's ever going to love me like that again."

Ever since you told him that there's more to him than just beauty and sex, that he's hilarious, for instance, he finds ways to make you laugh. He loves it. He's started being a lot more sarcastic and makes more jokes just to hear your laughter. He'll never admit it, of course. Other than maybe when it's only you two.

Doesn't believe he will be able to love again if you let go of him.

"Don't be so nice to me." he says with round, needy and pleading eyes.

Thinking of ways he can show others you're together so others know you're not available.

Hiding his jealousy, terribly.

He will rip the throat out of anyone with malicious intent towards you.

"I will wait the whole of my life for you, Astarion." He doesn't believe it at first, but the longer you go on without sex the safer he feels and the more he wants you.

NSFW:

He sometimes cries silently at night, wishing he could make love to you without it feeling so tainted. He wants it so badly, but his past experience prohibits it. The pain of wanting something and being unable to have it only because of himself is too much. He blames himself too sometimes. Wishing he could give you more.

"I don't mind waiting.", you'd say.

"I do. I can't have you, no matter how much I want you.", he'd say.

When you cuddle him sensing he's upset, he will bury his face in your neck to hide his tears. The smell of you is comforting.

Needing you everytime you're tender with him.

Getting aroused when you hug during a kiss.

Wanting to kiss your skin all over, to make you cry from pleasure as you bury your face in his neck.

Wanting you to hold on to him for dear life as you climax.

When he's finally comfortable enough and takes charge of his own sexuality, he'll be so needy.

Realising that the two nights he had sex with you were nothing compared to how good making love to you feels.

When you give up all control to him, letting him do to you as he wants, the pleasure is almost too much bear. The power he feels is palpable and knowing it is you who trusts him so much will drive him near mad.

He will lose control many times so you have a safe word.

You both think of the stupidest word possible as a safe word. Something that makes you both laugh when it's used.

He likes over stimulating you, making you beg and he'll kiss you to calm you.

"It's okay, you can do it, darling.", he'll say stroking you even further and kissing your tears.

"Does that feel good, my love?"

The more you beg the more he loves it.

He likes playing with your hands, holding them in his, touching your fingers, comparing them to his while you rest on his chest, still warm from him being inside of you.

Resting his head against your chest to hear your heartbeat.

Staring at your face and body intently. Taking in every little reaction you make and replaying them over in his head throughout the day.

Staring at you longingly when you're both with the squad, failing terribly at focusing in battle or conversation.

Getting aroused when you're covered in blood.

Seeing you fighting, in general, turns him on. The smell of your sweat, your rapid heart beat, the way your body moves, all of it now only reminds him of making love to you.

Telling you to say his name whenever he's feeling good and you'll chant it as you cum. He loves how it sounds from your lips.

Resting his forehead against yours as he's close to cumming.

"Look at me.", he'll command you.

He likes when your hands rake his hair, pull his hair, tug it whatever. That slight bit of pain arouses him. Better yet, if you bury your nails into his skin.

He likes to look at you falling asleep. It's such a gentle thing. How can someone so strong otherwise be so soft around him? Why him? Why did someone like you choose someone like him? He can't believe he has you.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50833876/chapters/128419966 I am updating these hcs on my ao3, if anyone is interested!

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ── hyunjin messes up and kkami helps him apologize

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff (might be the cutest thing i wrote recently)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: this is definitely inspired by the new book i'm obsessing over right now so pls enjoy and let me know what you think!! <33

“Well, well, look who finally remembered he has a loving partner missing him at home.”

You hear Hyunjin sigh on the other end, sheepish, obviously expecting you’d cut him some slack for disappearing for days, like talking to him wasn’t the best part of your day. Touring was hard, and he’s been insanely busy from day one – you get it. That’s why, your tone’s more playful than intended, only being able to let the phone ring for two heartbeats before rushing to answer and let his velvety voice bring sunshine back into your dull life.

“Hello, the absolute love of my life I think about daily.” He clears his throat, brushing over your comment in hopes you’re not truly upset he hasn’t called in so long. Two days weren’t a big deal, but for clingy people like you and him, going 48 hours without hearing what the other has been up to was torture. It was just enough time for insecurity to creep in, feeding you lies upon lies about how he’d forgotten your relationship and was currently in the process of replacing you with someone else, someone better and more worthy of owning his heart.

Your heart flutters, a grin finding its way onto features despite your attempts at stopping it. “Hello, Hyunjin.”

“Who the fuck is Hyunjin?”

No longer able to keep the happiness at bay, you burst out laughing, the aggravation clear as day in the absence of his usual pet name. Hyunjin was your baby, nothing else. His name only ever left your pretty lips you couldn’t wait to press against his only when the situation called for seriousness.

Settling down, you ignore his displeased huffing. “The guy who hasn’t called me in a week. You might know him.”

You’re teasing. You both know it, just like he knows that behind your words, the only genuine thing is the longing and the wish to have him close again, missing the steady beat of his heart and his familiar warmth that usually lulled you to sleep, badly. Hyunjin has always been great at reading between the lines, figuring you out easily, like you were nothing more than an unchallenging puzzle he could solve with his eyes closed.

“A week? I know I messed up, love, but it’s only been two days. Not even, just about 45 hours.” You hear sheets rustling on the other end, helping you picture him lounging about in the hotel bed, hair most likely still damp from his previous shower. For once, the time difference was not absurd, allowing you to stare wistfully at the moon with certainty the other was doing the same, sharing stories of your love and trusting she’ll keep them safe.

“You counted?” You giggle, making yourself more comfortable on the couch, right next to Kkami who is sleeping soundly.

“I’ve been counting the hours until I can see you again the second I stepped outside our apartment.” He confesses, voice suddenly heavy with emotion before he gasps, ruining what could have been a sweet moment. “You’re telling me you haven’t?”

Of course, you have. Time seemed to go by incredibly slowly whenever he wasn’t near, the increasing distance causing his magnetic pull to grow weaker each day, but never diminishing, never losing its hold on you. That was impossible.

“No.” You lie blatantly, leaning back against the couch casually, one hand moving to slowly pet Kkami’s head whose slumber gave him the perfect excuse to ignore you.

“Liar.”

For the first time in your life, the fact that he knew you like the back of his hand was annoying.

“Don’t change the subject! You’re still not in the clear for forgetting about me for two whole days, Hyunjin.” You’re not actually mad, just feeling a little bit neglected. Hyunjin has never gone MIA like that, without even texting you brief updates throughout the day just so you’ll know he was still alive and kicking. Your boyfriend was thoughtful, sweet, and considerate – the radio silence you got for the past two days was very unlike him.

“I didn’t forget.” He counters, and you’re sure he’s shaking his head vehemently, denying all of your accusations. “I could never forget, not in this lifetime or any others.”

“Liar.” You mock him, making a face he can’t see and tease you about like he’d usually do. “You could have texted, at least. Let me know you’d be busy.”

“I’m sorry, love.” His voice is soft, apology genuine as can be when he doesn’t try to justify himself or find excuses. Hyunjin is aware that if the roles were reversed, he’d feel the same way you’re feeling right now, the anxiety and worry eating at him from the inside and leaving behind a restlessness he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried to. And he does, to an extent. Not being able to contact you drove him on the brink of insanity, making him moodier and more difficult to work it, which was so unlike him.

“Can I talk to Kkami?” He adds, trying to make it up to you in his own, creative way you’ve come to love.

“What?” You can’t help but laugh, not sure you heard him right.

“Pass the phone to Kkami for a moment, please?”

Now you’re curious, wondering what that beautiful mind had in store for you this time. You’ve been dog-sitting Kkami since he left, sending him regular updates in hopes of brightening up his day and keeping the homesickness at bay. Your camera roll has been full of pictures and videos of Kkami - walking him, playing together and being cute just for Hyunjin’s delight. A small price to ensure your boyfriend’s everlasting happiness.

“Should I leave you two alone? Give you some privacy?”

He laughs, and you hear the sound of a bag zipping up. “Yes. This is just between us boys, sorry baby.”

Shaking your head with a smile, you do as he asks, lowering the phone close to Kkami’s ear like the pup could actually catch Hyunjin up on what’s been happening around the house since he left. At the sound of his owner’s voice, Kkami’s eyes open as his ears perk up, visibly excited to hear him after so long. With his tail waggling, Kkami listens attentively to whatever Hyunjin is telling him, sleep long forgotten as you start giggling next to him, not believing your eyes.

Kkami was not an affectionate dog, often biting or growling at your lover like he was sick of him. Hyunjin’s presence and fussing were a bore, the dog quickly growing tired of his excited nature, even though your boyfriend was the person he loved most in the world.

That’s exactly why, you’re taken aback when he sprints off the couch, running a lap around the living room before returning to jump at your feet, barking and licking the hand closest to him excitedly.

Dumbfounded, you bring the phone back to your ear laughing. “What did you say to him? He’s suddenly so happy to see me.”

“He’s groveling in my stead. I told him to show you how much I miss you.”

Your heart melts, and suddenly he’s all forgiven as tears well up in your eyes. “Hyun…”

“Actually, I asked him if he wanted a treat.” Your tears get absorbed right back as a laugh bubbles out of the both of you, with Kkami jumping into your lap to beg properly. “I guess he figured I wasn’t there to give him some, so now he expects them from you.”

“You set me up.” You say, voice laced with playfulness as you stand up, scooping Kkami with one hand to fulfill his request. A true glutton, he’d never forgive you if you denied him his beloved snacks.

“Maybe. But my words had the desired effect.” His tone is softer now, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You’re laughing.”

Yet, the joy didn’t reach its full potential, and never will with hundreds of miles between you. Happiness in its truest form found you in a handful of moments, and for most of them, Hyunjin was right by your side, fueling you with the love and devotion he held for you and you alone. He made you happy like nobody else, helping you see color even on the darkest days. Your beloved loved painting, that’s what he did, you just never thought he could bring forth his talent and make you see beauty in everything, guiding you to see the world through his eyes that always sparkled like he held the entire galaxy in them.

“Baby.”

Hyunjin gasps so loudly, almost like he is on the verge of bursting with happiness, matching Kkami’s energy to a T, ready to jump through the phone to feel your love and affection again.

“Can we facetime? I miss your beautiful face.” You add once Kkami is back on his own paws, devouring the stinky treat in your hand as you crouch to his level.

“Facetime? Love, I’ll literally catch the earliest flight and be there in record time! This little screen isn’t cutting it anymore, I need to see you with my own eyes before I get so desperate I start walking back just to be in your arms!”

And that is your cue to get on a plane first and finally visit your boyfriend before he keeps his word and ends up at your doorsteps with nothing but a duffle bag and a sob story about how much he missed you to justify his careless actions.

[nereidprinc3ss]

i keep you clean; you surrounded me

in which husband!spencer reid spirals after realizing he can't be your daughter's hero forever.

angst, fluff warnings/tags: this fic is about spencer's past addiction, and how he's afraid it will impact his relationship with his daughter, conversation about alcohol, this is a fix-it fic for my life, ends on a hopeful/positive note, lots of self-loathing from Spencer, uses the phrase "shooting up", PLEASE do not read if this is going to upset you!! PLEASE!! fem!reader a/n: this felt healing in a way for me but that might not be your experience reading if you also have issues with a parent with addiction so please tread lightly and make the right choices for you. CHOOSE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH OVER MY DUMB FANFIC I CAN'T STRESS THAT ENOUGH!! and ily

“Daddy?”

Ada’s not asking for you, but you look to her anyway. She’s squeezed between you and Spencer on Rossi’s swing, and her cheeks are still feverish—remnants of a recent and rather hysterical fit of giggles. She has a glass of lemonade between her little hands (you’re trusting her with a big girl cup, if only because it’s not your glass or your house) and she peers into it intently. Her little grass-stained feet kick. Spencer pushes the swing back ever so slightly, for her entertainment. 

“Huh?”

She holds her glass up for him. 

“Our drinks are the same color.”

“They are,” he nods. “Do you like yellow?”

Ada shrugs. It’s exaggerated—one of her favorite moves as of late. “It’s okay.”

Spencer glances at you like he always does when he sees glimpses of you in your child, eyes sparkling as if her opinionated and bluntly honest nature is in any way reminiscent of you. 

“Yeah, I agree. Yellow is just okay.”

She leans against him and he’s quick to accommodate her, affectionately brushing his knuckles over your bare shoulder as he slings his arm across the back of the swing. 

“Daddy?”

“What, lovebug?”

You smile, letting your head fall back and your eyes close. The sun is warm on your face. 

“Mommy’s drink is red.”

Nothing gets past her. Rossi had pushed the drink into your hand almost the second you stepped through the door, insisting it would go well with lunch. It sits otherwise untouched on the glass table. 

Spencer hums. The swing rocks gently. 

“That’s because she’s not having lemonade like us. She’s having a grownup drink.”

“Oh.”

You think that’s the end of it, that she’s satisfied with the answer, until another moment passes, and her voice, sweet as the tinkle of little fairy bells, is posing a very loaded question. 

“Why don’t you ever have grownup drinks? Me and you always have the same.”

Spencer’s already looking at you, brows drawn as you sit up. Your eyes, open now, go wide, and you shake your head slightly to signal you have no idea how he’s supposed to respond either. 

His hand goes to Ada’s hair, gently scratching her scalp as his eyes dart over your face. You can see the gears turning in his head. This is one of very few things he clearly didn’t read about in any of the literature on raising kids when you were pregnant. 

“I… some people don’t like grownup drinks.”

It’s an inadequate answer, especially coming from Spencer—just this morning he explained to Ada why the sky is blue. Rayleigh scattering. Blue light scatters more than any other kind of light. Which then led to an impromptu lesson on oxygen molecules and other basic chemistry in the car on the way here. 

So there are standards. 

“Why not?”

You interrupt, unable to watch Spencer flounder any longer. “Ada, why don’t you go see what Henry and JJ and Uncle Dave are doing? That looks fun, right?”

You gesture down the yard to where JJ and Rossi are teaching Henry to play cornhole. 

She looks at you with big brown eyes—the set of them, the color—those are all Spencer.

“Can you and daddy come?”

You straighten out her dress and take the half-full glass from her little hands, setting it next to your own on the table. 

“In a minute. Go ahead.”

Spencer’s hand slips from her hair as she pushes off the swing and bounds down the yard. You make sure she arrives to her destination without incident, before scooting closer to your husband and taking his vacant hand. 

“Spence?” You ask quietly, leaning in to try and insert yourself into his eye line. He doesn’t look away from Ada. 

“That was bad.”

“It wasn’t. She doesn’t understand. It’s fine.”

“I didn’t—”

He looks down, lips pressed together, and your heart twists and drops like overripe fruit from the vine as you realize his eyes have glossed over. 

“Baby,” you whisper, relinquishing his hand only so you can rub his back. Your other finds his knee, drawing as close as you possibly can. “It’s okay.”

“How am I supposed to explain it to her?”

A tear falls, making a dark splotch on the fabric of his pants. 

“You don’t have to. She’s only five. I guarantee she’s already forgotten all about it.”

“I will. I’ll have to tell her one day. She thinks I’m perfect, how am I supposed to—”

He stops himself, voice tightening to a halt. You watch him hold back a cry like you haven’t seen in years. It’s an old, familiar ache for you. You can’t imagine how it feels for him. 

“Spencer,” you coo. “She adores you. She loves you so much. That’s never going to change.”

His nose twitches. 

“I’m going to disappoint her.”

“How? How are you going to disappoint her?”

“I think it’s pretty disappointing to find out your dad is a junkie.”

His tone isn’t particularly harsh but the words are like a slap anyway. 

“Spencer…” For a moment you don’t know what else to say. It’s not a secret that he’s ashamed of that chapter in his life, but you had no idea he was contending with this much self-loathing over it, even after all this time. It seems like such a distant point in the rearview mirror that the two of you almost never need to talk about it anymore. “You are not a junkie. It’s been, what—a decade?”

“I don’t want to have to tell her what drugs are, let alone that I... she thinks I’m the smartest guy in the world, and one day I’ll have to tell her that drugs are extremely dangerous, and I was shooting up for four months anyway. No matter how I try to explain it to her the ultimate takeaway is going to be that I’m weak and I wasn’t smart enough and she’s never, ever going to forget that. How am I supposed to—I can’t be a role model for her. I fucked up so badly.”

Your chest aches, somewhere deep and hollow, as he leans forward, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, only for a moment—before Ada shrieks and his head snaps back up. Henry is chasing her with a worm. Spencer watches on, tears still leaking from his eyes and expression otherwise neutral. It’s bittersweet to hear him express such deep insecurity about the thing he’s best at in the world, even as those parental instincts kick in and he’s setting aside his own feelings to keep an eye on her. He’s never trusted himself. He’s never seen himself the way you do. 

“Baby, you are her dad and she loves you. Her love for you is not contingent on your past. You are so, so good to her. That’s all she knows, okay? She doesn’t care what you were doing when you were 25. She cares about whether you’ll be home for dinner, and if you’ll play dolls with her, and if you’ll tuck her in. That’s all she needs to love you.”

JJ wrangles the kids and after a moment Spencer looks down again, brow furrowed deeply as drops like rain dot his lap, but he hardly makes a sound. You lay your cheek on his shoulder. “And until she’s old enough for the whole story, which involves a lot more violence than I am comfortable with her being subjected to right now, you don’t need to explain it to her. You have time.”

“She wants to know now.”

“She also wants icecream for every meal. But I can’t make her understand why that’s a bad idea. What she wants and what she needs and what she is capable of understanding are all different categories. I know you love answering all her questions, and you’re a really good teacher, but you can’t make her understand something as complex as addiction.”

Spencer sniffs. 

“Developmentally she’s only really capable of understanding the world as it exists in relation to herself.”

“Exactly. So give her some time, and give yourself some time.”

“What if she asks again?”

“Then… you say you don’t like how it makes you feel. And tell her to clean up her toys. Condition her to stop asking.”

Spencer stumbles over a teary laugh he hadn’t been expecting. You sit up straight, holding his face between your hands and encouraging him to look at you. His cheeks shine with tears, but you wipe them away tenderly. 

“You’re perfect to her,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to one cheek, “and you’re perfect to me.” He cups your elbow as you kiss the other and looks at you with so much sheer adoration you could get all choked up, too.

“Wow,” he sniffles, and takes a deep breath, pulling you into him, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do,” you mumble into his shirt, eyes fluttering shut as he presses three kisses to the curve of your neck where he’s buried his face. 

“I could be canonized as a saint and not deserve you.”

Sainthood. You ponder that. 

Saints have to live virtuously. They also have to be dead. 

You hold him a little tighter. You like him exactly how he is: technically imperfect. Probably not getting into heaven. Still venerable. Very much heroic. Alive, and with you.

“I’m really glad you’re not a saint.”

He chuckles. His hand slides up your back, and then side to side—a path it’s made time and time again which has only ever led you to wonderful, perfect places.

“Me too.”

[writersdrug]

Heyyyyyy!!! So I’m absolutely freaking OBSESSED with your bartender AU… like I’m just eating up everything that’s coming out with itttttt!!! I love your writing so much and I’m honestly so hooked whenever I read your stuff!

I was wondering if I could request something with bartender Simon Riley and it’s where he finds reader crying in the backroom/pantry/stock area of the pub cause it’s been one of *THOSE* days. So he finds her there and sits with her and she just absolutely melts onto him and it’s all very sweet… sorry if this too much info for a request! Again, I absolutely love your work! 🤭🫶

Combining this with a few other asks about reader and Simon having a tender moment + reader having monetary issues

You're rather quiet today - you'd come in and spoken your hello's to everyone, then promptly got to work. Starting on rolling silverware in the far booth, then fifo-ing the pantry and fridge upstairs, then cleaning the bathrooms (you hated cleaning them, which is how Simon first figured out something was wrong). Didn't even reach for the French toast sticks Soap had put under the warmer for everyone. You have an expression plastered to your face as you work. Something between frustration and worry, and it has Price, Johnny, and Simon all on edge. Still, they let you be; it was well-known by now that personal space is sacred to them, and Simon trusts that you'll speak up if you need a shoulder.

Gaz couldn't stay to help drag the kegs upstairs today - something about the Brewmaster being on a trip to Austria, so he was left to watch the brewery. Simon doesn't mind that much. He can easily lift two kegs onto his shoulders and trudge them upstairs to the fridge. He grunts as he moves past the office, careful not to bang the kegs on any corners. Adjusting his grip, he pushes his way into the walk-in fridge-

He sees you, facing the boxes of fruits. "Oh- sorry, luv-" he sets the first keg down, then the second. "Y' need me to reach somethin'?"

You shake your head. Simon furrows his brow, noticing how tense your shoulders are. You're just... standing there. Not reaching for anything, not even looking at the shelves. Just staring at your feet.

You're crying.

All of his duties as a bartender fall to the side. He lets the door fall shut behind him. "Hey, hey... what's goin' on?" he places a hand on your upper back, rubbing his thumb back and forth as he waits for you to turn around. His mind is racing a million miles a minute, trying to imagine what could possibly have you this upset - and what he can do to fix it.

You shake your head, sniffling and trying to control your breaths. "It's nothing, I'm just - just a weird day, y'know? Not sure why I'm crying." You turn to look up at him and muster a smile, though your teary eyes say something else entirely.

He sighs. "C'mon, what's wrong?" He kneels down so that he's looking up at you - something his mom used to do when he felt too overwhelmed to tell her why he was crying. He can't explain it, but it made it easier to let go of whatever was troubling him.

Your lip wobbles, and you cave. Simon holds himself steady as you hug him, his burly arms wrapping around the small of your back. You sob, chest shaking with sharp inhales and sniffles, and Simon closes his eyes and sighs. This is what he wants: to be the lighthouse in your storm, to hold you steady while you began to slip. More than anything, though, he doesn't want you to cry.

He does what he remembers his mother doing. He gently shushes you, heart aching as you fist the back of his shirt and try to compose yourself. He uses one hand to drag an upturned crate behind you, slowly lowering you to sit down. The last thing he wants to do is let go of you, but he needs you to talk. He grabs a bucket and pulls it under him, planting himself in front of you and looking into your eyes.

"Talk to me. What's on your mind, hmm?"

You explain it all through sniffles and sobs: you're mom's recently called and said she wants to visit you. You're embarrassed with yourself, still living in that shitty apartment with your shitty roommate, a marketing degree hanging on your wall that you've never used (believe me, you've tried, but places really aren't hiring). Money isn't tight, but you're not saving - just making enough to exist and occasionally buy the name brand instead of the generic. One thing spirals into another, and you find yourself despairing about how you're never going to be anyone important, you're never going to make a difference - you're not even a cog in the machine. You're just the space between it.

God knows Simon's felt it, too.

"See?" you laugh at yourself, wiping a tear away with your fingers. "It's stupid. I do this every once in a while, right before my period."

Simon grunts. Good to know he can start buying chocolate and leaving it stuffed in the server cabinet. "It's not stupid, luv. You're worried - it's alright."

You cover your eyes, fighting the urge to start sobbing again. "I just... I feel like I'm not doing what I should be doing. I'm not getting anywhere. I thought I was going to be in a corporate office by now, living in a penthouse apartment and travelling wherever I want."

Simon scoffs. "Well, that's just unrealistic."

You huff. "I know. But that's success, isn't it?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Success? I mean... doesn't everyone?"

"Lemme put it this way." Simo leans his elbows on his knees, and you find yourself being drawn in to meet him, arms folded over your stomach.

"I assume you're happy 'ere." he says, looking you in the eyes. "What, with making your silly li'l drinks and swappin' all my shit for somethin' pink, 'n whatnot."

You giggle. "Yeah, I am..."

"Do you want to be happy?"

"I..." you pause. "Yeah, I do. Of course."

"Then aren't you already successful?" he asks. "You're not drownin' in bills - I hope you'd tell me if ya were - and you're happy. Is workin' a stupid corporate job n' livin' above the clouds gonna make it better?"

You looked at his hands, turning over the words in your head. It was stupid. It was the stupidest thing you've ever been worried about - he was completely right. You're happy here. You've never been happier - not in college, not at your data entry job, and definitely not in high school. You laugh, looking down at your own hands. "Yeah, you're... you're right. God, that was stupid-"

"Oi." he says sternly, slapping your knee - you froze, attention fully directed to him now.

"'S not stupid." he says, pointing a finger at you. "Just have to work through this sort of shit."

You watch as he stands and stretches his arms over his head, joints popping and cracking. "Should leave, 'fore we start heating up the fridge." he opens the door, and you quickly stand and follow him on the way out.

"What about the kegs?" you ask, following him down the stairs. "Do you need help bringing those up?"

"Give it time. Let it cool back down in there." He pauses at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the doorknob as he watches you quickly smear away the mascara under your eyes. "You eat anything today?"

You shake your head, fixing the knot on your server apron.

Simon forces his eyes away from your waist. "There's French Toast on the warmer - Soap made it for you. Go take a fifteen."

"But I haven't fini-"

"'M not askin'." he grunts out, pushing through the stairwell door and into the restaurant. He leaves you there to finish collecting yourself, staring after him with a small smile.

If this was you when you had first started working here, you would have thought he was frustrated with you for being so emotional. Now, that's just how you've come to know him. You quickly fix your hair and wipe your face once more, stepping out into the pub. The smell of cinnamon sugar wafts through the air as you make your way towards the kitchen, sparing one last sentimental glance to Simon as he begins setting up his bar.

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[m-neuvillette]

Star Rail and Genshin men: Giving them the silent treatment

Characters: Boothill, Diluc, Jing Yuan, Lyney, Moze, Neuvillette, Sunday, Venti, Wriothesley, Yanqing

Notes: female reader, blood, injury, creepy guy in Diluc's, jealousy, drinking, Moze being Moze

Author notes: FINALLY FREE OF FINALS!!! Prepare for more posts in the future hehe. Comment if you want a pt 2 (let us know what men you want!)

Boothill

Boothill is all kinds of confused right now. After that damn profnana messed with his head, now you avoiding and not talking him has his brain in overdrive. 

He doesn’t fully know what changed. March 7th told him what profnana tried to make him do to you. He really wishes he could shoot that forkin thing in the head after the shirtbag tried to make him shoot you. March 7th also said he talked about his past but he’s fine with that. So he really doesn’t get what is up with you.

You’re sitting in one of the open sitting areas Boothill has on his ship thinking about all that has happened. You met Boothill early into your journey as a galaxy ranger and were always really close with him. He helped you so much and liked being around you so he asked you to join him. 

You two only grew even closer as time passed and everyone knew you were more than friends. You two only got together before the whole trip to Penacony so the relationship is still fresh. But that isn’t what’s bothering you or has you upset. 

It’s about Boothill’s past. It broke your heart hearing a young Boothill talk instead of the raspy voice you’re so used to and love. As you listened to that little soft voice talk about his past, you couldn’t stop your heart from breaking. It also made you realize you don’t know much about him. You know he wants revenge on the IPC for what they did to his planet but you didn’t know what happened.

Did he not trust you as much as you thought he did? Did he only see this arrangement as convenient to help reach his goal? Does he actually have feelings for you? You don’t know and don’t know how to talk to him about it. You feel the ship go into cruise mode indicating Boothill planned the next planet and you two have time before you get there. 

You can’t help but get frustrated at yourself because all you want to do is to talk to him but you don’t know how. You start to tear up while thinking about a plan when you hear him walking into the room.

Boothill was quick to set the ship to cruise so he can figure out what’s going on. Once he’s got everything lined up, he makes his way to where you are.

He sees you with your head down and your hands clenching at your pants. He instantly knows something is wrong. Boothill makes quick strides over to where you’re sitting to start figuring this out. 

He stays standing and tilts your head up to see your red eyes and tear stained face. Boothill rarely gets shot but seeing you like this feels like he’s got shot hundreds of times. He lets go of your face and sits next to you and pull you into his lap. Boothill tucks your head into his neck then says, “I can’t help ya, if ya don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 

You’ll pull yourself from his neck to look at him. He reaches one of his hands up to wipe your tears which makes you let out a shaky breath. You lean your forehead again his and quietly ask, “Boothill, do you not trust me? Am I a bad girlfriend?”

Boothill eyes are wide open now as he stumbles out, “Wait whaddya mean? Of course I do. I trust ya with my life. And you’re not a bad girlfriend at all. Why would you ask that?” 

You look down not being able to look him in the eyes anymore and start to play with the zipper on his shirt, “When you talked about your past with that soft voice my heart broke. But it also made me realize I never got to know you.” You start to cry again but you continue to talk, “I want to know you more. I want to help you. I want you to count on me so I don’t have to hear that soft little boys voice be in pain again.” 

Boothill tilts your head back up to face him. He wipes your tears then kisses your cheeks, “Baby I want nothin’ more than to share everythin’ with you. I’m sorry that’s the way you had to find everythin’ out. From now on I’ll be more open with ya. But you also gotta promise you won’t shut yourself out from me and doubt yourself. Okay? I love you.” 

You look him in the eyes and respond, “I promise Boothill. I love you too.” Then you go to give him a tight hug burying yourself in his neck again. Boothill quickly returns the hug holding you tightly to him and pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. 

Diluc

Diluc didn’t think he could meet anyone as stubborn as Kaeya, that was before you decided to give him the silent treatment. It has been two days since your guys argument. 

It all started at Angel’s Share. You asked Diluc to teach you how to make drinks so you can help him and Charles when times got busy. After a while you started working there. You love your job and everyone you get to meet. Well most people. 

You love the regulars like Venti, Kaeya, and Rosaria. You also love when Lisa drags Jean here or when you meet new faces from or outside of Mondstadt. But there are a good amount of men who have been creepy towards you. You keep your work outfit simple with a white blouse and a black skirt (and sometimes Diluc’s jacket when you get cold). Whenever a man gets too creepy or tries to touch you Diluc is quick to stop the situation and kick the man out. 

Your outfit isn’t that revealing. You made sure to keep the skirt at a medium length so no perverts could try to see something they shouldn’t. You also keep your chest covered so again no perverts could be weird. But sadly it’s only been getting worse lately and it’s making you stressed. 

One night Diluc couldn’t get to Angel’s Share until later in the evening due to a meeting he had to be at. You are perfectly fine working with Charles and love talking to him when times are slow. Tonight is pretty slow but a couple groups needed refills so you offered to do it so Charles can stay behind the bar and continue his conversation with Kaeya.

You walk over to the group in the far back corner and see all the men drunk. You roll your eyes before tending to them. You ask if they would like anymore drinks but all they respond with is that they want you to warm them up. You ask again if they want DRINKS but none of them say yes so you begin to walk away. As you do one of the sleazy guys grabs your wrist and pulls you back. He starts to say something but that is before you see a tanned hand grabbing the guys wrist. You look up to see Kaeya glaring at the man. 

“Let go of her now and get the hell out of here.” The men quickly follow Kaeya’s order and he follows them out making sure they don’t try to come back in. When he’s outside he sees Diluc walking towards him and says a little hello. Diluc quickly asks what happened and Kaeya relays the story. Diluc gets visibly mad and stomps inside to go find you. Once he does he grabs your hand and has you follow him to a spare room upstairs.

He gives you his jacket and asks if you are okay and if the guy did anything to you. You say you’re okay and that he didn’t do anything. Diluc shakes his head and tells you to stop working here and that you don’t have to work because he can fully support the both of you. You argue back saying you’re going to continue working here whether or not he likes it or not. Then march out of the bar leaving him behind. 

Diluc then quickly follows you after telling Charles he’s got to go. He also turns to Kaeya and begrudgingly thanks him and leaves. Kaeya knows you two got into an argument but he definitely knows you aren’t too mad because you left still wearing his jacket. 

After you thought about it for two days you realized you overreacted. You barely let him explain why he thought about you stopping now you feel bad because you haven’t spoke to him in three days. So you sat down in front of the fire waiting for him to get back from his Dark Knight Hero patrol. 

Diluc walks into his mansion expecting it to be pitch black but he sees you sitting in front of a fire. He sets his sword by the entrance then makes his way over to you. 

He kneels in front of you and breaks the silence, “Hey, everything okay? Did you have a nightmare, is that why you’re down here?” 

Oh this man even when you’re giving him the silent treatment he is still asking if you’re okay. You shake your head and respond, “No I was waiting for you to apologize.” You brush his bangs out of his eyes, “I’m sorry Diluc. I overreacted and didn’t let you explain why you wanted me to stop. I just want to help you and not sit around here all day. Plus working at the bar with you is so fun. I get to see you in a whole different light and I love it. I don’t want to let go of that.” 

Diluc gives you a smile and reaches for your hand and gives it a tight squeeze, “No pretty girl it’s me who should be apologizing. I’m sorry for getting so mad, I just hate seeing you get harassed. It also didn’t help Kaeya was the one to help you and not me. But you don’t have to stop. Just every time you work I want to be there so I can stop it or prevent it.”

You smile down at him and squeeze his hand, “That is perfectly okay with me. I have more fun working with you anyways, sorry Charles. I love you Diluc.”

Diluc smiles and brings your hand to his lips to give your knuckles a soft kiss and replies without hesitation, “I love you too.” 

Jing Yuan

You thought you believed the phrase “wisdom comes with age” because that is Jing Yuan in his entirety. But now? You are starting to doubt that very much, because it’s not very wise to have wise to have an old friend spear you to take out an enemy now is it? 

While you do understand that everyone was ready to defeat Phantylia at any cost, you really didn’t think that Jing Yuan would try to sacrifice himself in the process. Did he even think at all during that moment? Let alone think about how he’d leave you behind? You’ve already been left behind by so many people, and Jing Yuan knows all about how that’s affected you. So why would he try to leave you behind too?

When Jing Yuan first comes back after the fight was over, his first priority was to see you. He wanted to make sure you were okay, and he wanted to make sure that you didn’t find out about his little stunt against the Lord Ravager. He didn’t want you to worry about him. But unfortunately for him, March 7th found you first and told you all about the fight, including Dan Heng hurling his spear through him.

To say you were upset and fuming might have been the understatement of the century, because as soon as he came into your line of sight you were glaring daggers at him. Yanqing had been right next to you when Jing Yuan came up to you and he could feel the anger coming off of you so he turned around and ran off before he got caught in the middle of a “lover’s quarrel” as the General called them.

“GOOD LUCK GENERAL DON’T DIE!” Yanqing gave his best regards to the General before scampering off to avoid your rage. Jing Yuan tilted his head amusedly before fully looking at your expression. “Now what could have you this angry, my dear?” If it was even possible you narrowed your eyes even further and harshly grabbed his wrist and dragged him to your shared home. 

The entire time you were dragging him tears were burning in your eyes because even though you are behind thrilled that Jing Yuan is safe and sound you can’t help but think that he wanted to leave you behind too, just like everyone else. “My dear, can I request that you be a little less harsh, your grip is beginning to hurt my wrist? Also, may I know what is troubling you so much? You know you can confide in my right my dear?”

When he said that you had reached his room and you dragged him to the nearest chair and shoved him in it, while also being careful not to aggravate his glaringly obvious injury. When you lift up his shirt to take a look at the injury and once you see the blood seeping through the bandages, you take a minute to take a deep breath before finally talking to him. 

“Jing Yuan, tell me were you really trying to leave me behind too? Why would you ever think that having your old friend throw his spear through you to defeat an enemy is alright?! Don’t you always teach Yanqing to not be reckless?? What you did goes against those teachings don’t you think?! Please, I’m begging you, tell me why you thought that was the best course of action? Did you even think at all? Let alone about leaving me behind, like everyone else has?!” 

Jing Yuan’s eyes widen in alarm before he’s trying to get up to comfort you. “Don’t you even think about getting up Jing Yuan! Do you want to make your injury worse?” At that he say right back down and responded sitting down. “My dear let it be known that what I did was the only option that we had to defeat that Lord Ravager, lest I become a Mara Struck. That, my dear, would’ve been much worse a fate than I would ever allow you to witness. I am deeply sorry for worrying you, know this, I will never leave you behind, not if I can help it. Though as an Arbiter General you just realize that I cannot choose my death as freely as others can.” 

You turn around after he finishes and he realizes that you had been crying this entire time. “I know that Jing Yuan’s, I knew that the second I got into this relationship with you that your life as an Arbiter General was not going to lead to a pretty death, but sacrificing yourself like you did is beyond me! What would the Luofu do without you? What would I do without you?? Please just don’t leave me behind, I can’t take anyone else leaving me.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes soften and he beckons you to come closer to him. As soon as you reach him he’s standing up and wrapping his arms round you and kissing your forehead. “My dear I will never leave you, not of my own accord and that I swear on my life. I am deeply sorry for any pain I have caused during this time. When I am fully healed I intend to make this up to you to the best of my abilities.” You gently wrap your arms around him and place your head on his chest. “I will hold you to that my darling, I love you so much.” He smiles softly down at you before leaning his head on top on your head. “And I love you so much more dearest.”

The next day Yanqing giggled and smiled smugly before remarking with hand gestures and all. “I see the General lived through yet another ‘lover’s quarrel’. Nice job General, I’m impressed, can I have a few pointers?” Jing Yuan looked at him with the most deadpan expression before smiling softly and telling Yanqing to get back to training.

Lyney

A magician’s charm is like no other, that is the first thing you learned when you met Lyney. And it became even more prominent when you got into a relationship with him. His charm is his best quality and it attracts so many people, including unwanted gazes of new assistants of his.

As his popularity as a magician was increasing, Lyney decided that he should get a few more assistants to make his shows run more smoothly. And you are perfectly fine with him getting more assistants, after all that that’s how you two met. But this new assistant he chose is getting in every last one on your nerves, because who is she to flirt nonstop and try to get to get with your magician, when it is incredibly obvious that you two are together?

While you are helping prep for Lyney’s next show, it seems that the new assistant, Louise as you’ve unfortunately come to learn, is yet again all over Lyney. Instead of actually preparing the necessary materials for the show, Louise is clinging to Lyney’s and asking about a million questions about completely random topics. Everyone in the room can see that Louise has the hots for Lyney, his magician’s charm seems to work wonders, must to your dismay. 

Even though he has a show to prep for and he has a girlfriend, Lyney doesn’t try to stop Louise and her antics at all, he even answers all of her random questions. It’s quite disheartening to see your boyfriend have another girl all over him and him not stop any of those advances, it makes it look like he doesn’t have a girlfriend when he actually does. 

“Oh Lyney! What are you going to have for dinner after this? Do you want to go get dinner together? I’d love to have dinner with you!” You had to walk away to keep yourself from gagging at her horrible flirting. Though you stopped when you heard Lyney’s chuckle in response. “Oh my dear, what a most generous offer that is indeed! I have yet to make plans for dinner, but I will get back to you on my thoughts on dinner after this show, so wait for me alright?” 

When you heard him say that your heart broke and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall from your eyes. Was he really going to have dinner with another girl, when having dinner with you, Lynette, and Freminet, has been your tradition since you guys were in your “courting stage” as Lyney loved to call it. 

Lynette, who saw the whole interaction, was also very stunned that Lyney was entertaining the thought of having dinner with someone else. She walked up to Lyney and told him that the show was starting soon and that he needed to get on stage and then immediately went to find you. When she found you, you were sitting on one of the boxes that was backstage hugging your knees to your chest and your head buried on top of them. Lynette could tell that you had heard what Lyney said and walked up to you.

“Hey, I heard what that idiot said, just try not to take it to heart I guess. He’s not one to let people know they’re bothering him. If I had to guess he’s, probably, going to turn her down after the show. If it’s any consolation, I am also mad that he would ditch us for that idiot of a girl.” You look up at Lynette while she talks and silently nod your head in agreement. 

After the show ended, the first thing Lyney did was look for you because you were always waiting backstage with a hug and a kiss for him. When he didn’t immediately see you when he walked off stage, he was very confused because you had never missed your routine hug and kiss, it’s become a tradition for you two. While he is looking for you, Louise clings onto his arm and begins questioning him about dinner again. He looks down at her and says that he’s looking for you and that he can’t talk right now. Louise let’s go at that and walks away.

Once Lyney finds you, he realizes that you haven’t moved since the show began. “Hello there, my dove! Let us go home now shall we?” You look up at him silently and get off the box you were sitting on and begin walking out. Lyney’s eyes widen in alarm once he sees the dried streaks of tears on your face and when you start walking he rushes to grab your hand. 

“Oh my dearest dove, what could have you crying?” You shake your head and continue walking, because you can’t handle talking to him right now. Not after him basically accepting to eat dinner with another girl. He decides to leave it alone until you get home because that is the best place to discuss what happened. Once you two get to your home, you fumble with the key to unlock the door and more tears begin to fall out of your eyes in frustration. 

Lyney sees this and gently grabs the key out of your hand and unlocks the door. He grabs your hand and pulls you to your shared room, so that you two can sort all of this out in private. Once you reach your room you let go of his hand and sit on the bed and pull your knees to your chest again and look away from Lyney. His eyes soften and he walks around to the other side of the bed and wraps his arms around you.

“My dove, what is it that’s troubling you? Please talk to me, I want to help you but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what the problem is.” You shake your head and mumble “it’s nothing, just go have dinner with Louise.” His eyes widen again before he realizes that you must’ve hear him and Louise talking about dinner before the show. 

“Oh my dearest dove, I was never going to entertain her and have dinner with her. I just didn’t want to create animosity before the show, though you have my deepest apologies for even saying that I could have dinner with her. I will never have dinner with anyone but you, Lynette, and Freminet. You have my word on that, I promise. So please forgive me for making you cry.” 

You look up at him and swiftly wrap your arms around him and bury your head in his chest. “Please never do that again, I don’t think my heart could take it. I love you too much for you to do that.” He lightly kisses the top of your head before responding, “my dearest I love you more than you could possibly know.”

Let’s just say that he got an earful from Lynette when it was time for dinner, because no way was he ever eating with anyone eot on her watch.

Moze

Birthday presents are surprises. At least that’s how they’re supposed to be. Moze does not seem to understand this, not at all. Moze’s birthday was coming up and you wanted to surprise him, but could he let that happen? No apparently he could not, and he just had to spoil your surprise.

His birthday was coming up and you wanted to surprise him and get him a new custom dagger, you thought he would really like it. So when you decided what to get him, you got up extra early that morning and slipped out of your shared bed to go to the blacksmith. You made sure you were extra quiet so you didn’t wake Moze up and spoil your surprise. 

When you finally made it to the blacksmith and made your order you decided to walk around and get some food. The dagger wouldn’t be ready until later that week so you had a lot of time on your hands. You decided to bring some food back for Moze and when you got back to your shared home he appeared out of nowhere and nearly gave you a heart attack.

“Moze seriously you got to stop appearing out of nowhere like that, you’re going to give me a heart attack one day.” He softly laughs and wraps his arms around you. “Where’d you run off to this early in the morning my love? You never get up this early.” You panic internally for a moment before you remember that you got food too, so you don’t have to worry about spoiling his surprise. “I went and got some food for us for breakfast, I woke up early and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I thought why not get some food?” He takes that answer and leave it at that.

Later that week you had to go pick up the dagger again, conveniently it was the day of Moze’s birthday. That day you got up early once more and snuck out of bed to go pick up his present. Though little did you know that when Moze woke up not long after he was surprised to not find you in bed once again, 2 times in one week? That’s suspicious, so he wanted to make sure you were okay, so he decided to go look for you. 

He was looking all around the Yaoqing and he found you outside a blacksmith holding and admiring a dagger. What could you possibly need with a dagger? He decided to walk up to you to ask you about it and once he was in front of you, you about jumped out of your skin. “Moze! I swear please stop appearing out of nowhere!” You also realize that you have the dagger on full display so you quickly hide it behind your back. 

“Now why are you hiding a dagger behind your back my love? That’s dangerous you know.” You then realize that he caught you red handed and quickly put the dagger in the bag you had along with the little card you made inside and shove it in his hands and run off. He stands there stunned at the fact that you just ran away, but before following you he looked inside the bag that you had given him. It held the dagger and a cute little note that said “Happy Birthday Moze! I love you” with a little heart next to it. He then realized that today was indeed his birthday and he came to the realization that he spoiled your gift for him.

When he finds you after he looked at your gift, you are in your shared room on the bed with your head between your knees silently crying, though he could still hear it, it is Moze after all. He quickly puts the bag on the nightstand and gets on the bed and pulls you into his lap. “My dearest love you have my deepest apologies for spoiling your gift for me. I wanted to make sure you were okay since you left so early but that does not excuse me from spoiling your surprise. Please forgive me my love.”

You look up at him teary eyed and bury your face in his neck. “You really don’t get the point of surprises do you, please try not to be so nosy around your birthday next year. I love you too much to have your birthday surprise spoiled.” He laughs softly before gently taking your head out of his neck and softly kissing your lips. “And I love you, I’ll try not to be so nosy next year, though I did forget it was my birthday in all fairness.” Your jaw drops at that and you realize that you have a new story to tell Jiaoqiu and Feixiao.

Let’s just say you three did not let him live down forgetting his own birthday, but you did it by giving him the best birthdays ever. Though when you told Jiaoqiu and Feixiao about all of this, Moze was lectured for hours on how to not ruin a surprise.

Neuvillette

Neuvillette is stressed. He doesn’t completely get “the silent treatment”. Why is it even a thing? Don’t humans love communicating? So why do they do this to themselves? 

Furina watches in amusement seeing all the gears in Neuvillette’s turn trying to figure out why you’re giving him the silent treatment. You went to her to talk about how much he’s been working and it feels like he doesn’t even try to make time for you two anymore. She told you to talk to him about it because that’s the only way it’s ever going to get fixed. Little did she know it was going to make everything worse. 

You went to talk to Neuvillette about it that night after you talked with Furina and he completely brushed it off. All he said was “What do you mean? Aren’t we spending time together now? We do this every night, get ready together and go to bed. That’s spending time together.” 

You try to explain that you want to do more than that. You want to go on a date with him, you want to go on a walk, or even just stay in and cuddle. All he said back was “As the Iudex I am quite busy and you know that.” Then went to bed. Since then you’ve been ignoring him and going to bed before he gets home so now his routine is thrown off and he hates it. 

Furina speaks up, “My dear Iudex what is troubling you?” 

Neuvillette looks up at Furina and asks “Why am I getting the silent treatment? I don’t get it” 

“Well Neuvillette, do you make time for her? Do you take her on dates? Do you get her flowers? Do you show her you love her?”

Neuvillette clears his throat and looks away, “Um… no…”

“Here lies your problem. It’s like how you make time every week to have a tea party with me and relax. Or catch up with Sigewinne. You’re not making time for your girlfriend you claim to love.”

Neuvillette sits there and reflects on this. He looks at Furina and says, “I must go. I have to fix this.” 

Furina smiles and dismisses him as he walks out she calls out to him, “There’s no cases today so take the rest of the day off. But you have to start planning this stuff on your own.” Neuvillette shakes his head and leaves his office. 

He stops on his way back home to get you flowers and some baked goods. Neuvillette arrives home and looks for you. He sees you and walks towards where you’re sitting in the bay window. 

You’re shocked when you see Neuvillette home so early and then you see what’s in his hands. He has flowers and baked treats. 

Neuvillette reaches you and begins to ramble, “My love I am so sorry. I didn’t put into perspective your feelings and how you want to spend more time with me. Which you 100% deserve because we are in a relationship and as a good boyfriend I must be present and make time for you. So after today I am going to make more time for you. I mean well it starts today as well because I am taking you out for dinner tonight. But in the mean time enjoy these flowers and treats I got you. I promise I won’t  ever do this again. I love you so much.” 

You watch and Neuvillette catches his breath after that long declaration but it makes you smile. You scoot over and make room for him to sit next to you. You pat the cushion and he is quick to listen and sit next to you. You grab the flowers and treats and put them to the other side of you. 

You turn to give your full attention to Neuvillette. You reach out your hands and cup his face, “Thank you Neuvillette, that means a lot to me. I can’t wait for the date tonight and for many other moments together. I love you so much.” You go to give him a kiss which he quickly returns and pulls you closer to him. 

Once you two break apart you stare lovingly at each other. Neuvillette vows to himself he will never have this happen again because he HATES the silent treatment. 

Sunday

You’ve known Sunday and Robin since you were kids. The three of you were always playing together and created some unforgettable memories. Robin could tell yours and Sunday’s feelings grew into something stronger as you three got older. She made it her mission to get you two together before she left Penacony which she was successful with. 

You laugh at her determination now but it also breaks your heart. You are Sunday’s girlfriend but you never knew what he was planning and what he was going through. You can’t help but blame yourself a little bit with not being able to stop him. But you’ve heard he’s out of confinement and planning on leaving. Is he really leaving you behind again? Can he not say goodbye? You look at the stars and wonder what will happen. 

You hear a cautious hello behind you which makes you turn around. You see a young man with gray hair and a girl with pink and blue hair. You recognize them being the nameless that helped Penacony. “Why hello you two. I’m sorry I don’t remember your names could you remind me?”

The girl introduced herself as March 7th and the young man introduced himself as Caelus. March then asks, “Miss you’re Sunday’s girlfriend right?” 

You smile at her, “Yes I am. I am sorry for all the trouble Sunday has caused you. Only if I knew I could have tried to stop him. But if you’re here to ask where he is, I don’t know. I just know he’s leaving and he could have left.” 

March quick responds, “Oh we aren’t looking for him. We were curious if you would like to come with us? Like back to the Astral Express? We want to invite you to become a Nameless if you would want to.” 

You think about the offer and quickly agree because you don’t exactly have a purpose right now. This can give you what you’re looking for. 

March and Caelus took you back to the express where they showed you around and introduced you to Himeko,  Dan Heng, and Pom Pom. Himeko tells you everyone has agreed to make you a Namless and that Welt is bringing someone else back to see if the Express wants them as a Nameless. To kill time you sit with March and Caelus. 

You hear the door open and you see Welt and someone walking behind him. The person feels so familiar. March and Caelus stand up and walk over which you follow them. You stand behind them listening to Welt catch everyone up. Then you see him walk out from behind Welt. The man you dreamed of seeing since this whole disaster started. 

Everyone begins to vote and say yes. Sunday looks happy but Pom Pom is quick to say, “Well we haven’t heard from our other new recruit. What do you think?” You step out from Caelus and March and make eye contact with Sunday and he sucks in a breath. “Yes I agree. He should become a Namless.” Everyone smiles and cheers for Sunday but he is frozen in place. 

As soon as you and Sunday recite the creed you quickly go off ignoring Sunday. He tries to reach out for you but he realizes it’s futile. He knows he messed up. Welt comes up behind him and places a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t give up so fast. You’re on a new journey,  don’t you want her on it? Go and talk to her.” 

Sunday quickly follows where he saw you go and sees you looking at the stars. He takes a deep breath and walks over to stand next to you, “Aren’t they beautiful? They’re real and not fake ones. I’ve grown to learn that someday we will wake up from our dreams and have to face reality. I know that better than anyone now. After saying goodbye to Penacony and Robin I realized that I must start a new path. I regret not finding you first. You’ve always been in my path, dreams, future, anything really. I am lucky the Nameless are giving me this chance to fix everything. My angel I am so sorry. I should have went to you first, but I just thought about how I shouldn’t. You shouldn’t have to deal with a criminal and someone that went on the wrong path.” He starts to tear up, “Aeons I cannot imagine a life without you. I want you in my life and I want to take this next step with you. I am truly and deeply sorry for all I have caused. I love you so much. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore but just know if you give me another chance I’ll do everything in my power to prove to you I will change.” 

You turn to face him and start to cry looking at his tears. You dive right into his chest and hold onto him tight. He quickly wraps his arms around you and cries with you. You missed this, you missed him. Sunday’s familiar scent is home to you. 

You hiccup, “Sunday, Sunday” you grip him tighter. “I don’t care if you’re criminal. I don’t care if you walked the wrong path. I want you. Yes it hurt that you didn’t say goodbye but I know that it isn’t necessary because anywhere you go, I’ll follow. I’ll always be right with you because I love you so much. I want nothing more than to continue this Nameless journey with you.” 

Sunday takes a deep breath and buries his face in your neck and plants light kisses on your neck. Between kisses he thanks you and promises you it will always be you and him. 

Venti

When you’ve been alive as long as Venti has, you tend to not forget things you find precious or important. At least that’s what you had come to think. But now you are starting to doubt that. Because why else would you be sitting in front of Windrise for hours all by yourself, with all the picnic essentials, and no sign of your lovely bard showing up, if he didn’t forget?

When it started to get dark you decided that you had waited long enough for Venti to show up and made your way back to the city. When you walked through the gates you run into Rosaria, which was a pleasant surprise because you only really see her when you go to Angel’s Share with Venti. 

“Oh, hey there Rosaria! How are you doing tonight?” She tilts her head at you and looks at you a little confusedly, “huh I’m surprised you aren’t at Angel’s Share with that bard tonight. He’s never there without you anymore, something happen between you two?” Now it’s your turn to look at her confused because what does she mean Venti is at Angel’s Share tonight?

“Rosaria, what do you mean? He’s at Angel’s Share right now?” You then mumble to yourself “that would explain why he didn’t come to Windrise for our picnic date then I guess.” Her eyes widen just a fraction before she narrows them. “You’re telling me he skipped out on your date to go drinking with Kaeya, what a lousy guy.”

You let that all sink in before tears start forming in your eyes at the realization that you were in fact ditched by your beloved. You let your head fall before you quietly tell Rosaria that you’re going to go home now.

When you get to yours and Venti’s shared home you place the picnic basket on the counter and you immediately go to your shared room. You change out of your clothes and hop into your bed, and it doesn’t take long for the tears to pour out of your eyes. Next thing you know you hear Venti walk into the room, and you don’t even want to know how long it’s been but you’re awake now but facing away from the door. 

When he gets into bed you realize that you are now facing him and you will yourself to go back to sleep, because you don’t want to cry anymore tonight. When he fully settles into bed he softly looks at you and notices that you’re awake and softly whispers to you.

“Well hello there my windblume, what has you up at this hour? Sleep is important you know.” He reaches to cup your face and when he rubs his finger across your cheek he realizes that it’s kinda of wet. “Oh my windblume, whatever could have you crying?” He pulls you into his chest, and you immediately try to pull out of his hold and turn around. 

He looks at you quizzically because you have never pulled away from him before. Did he upset you in some way? “My dearest, please talk to me, I wish to know what is upsetting you. Allow me to be the one you confide in my windblume.” You sigh before whispering softly, because that’s all you can manage without crying again.

“Venti do you remember what we planned to do today? Am I really that forgettable? That you would stand me up on our picnic date that we’ve been planning for weeks? Was drinking with Kaeya really more important than our picnic?” Venti’s face pales at what you said because he realizes that he totally forgot about your guys’ date. 

“Oh my dearest windblume, no apology could ever be worth your forgiveness and tears. But please allow me to apologize all the same, I have no excuse for forgetting our date. Please allow me to make it up to you in any way possible, I’d even do the impossible for you because that is what you are worth. I hope you can find it within your heart to forgive me for this transgression but I know that an apology alone will not suffice. My beloved I am truly sorry.” 

Venti then wraps his arms around your waist and gently kisses the top of your head. You sigh softly and turn around in his embrace, hug him tightly, and bury your head in his chest. “Please never forget about me again my beloved bard, I couldn’t stand it ever again.” He takes one hand from around your waist and brings it to tilt your head up towards him and he gently kisses your lips. “Never again my beloved muse, I will never forget you again.”

Let’s just say from that point on you guys were practically glued to each other, you could never find one of you without the other, and that’s just how everyone came to know and love Venti the bard and his muse.

Wriothesley

The strong and formidable Duke is passionate in his job. Maybe sometimes a little too much for your liking. Which is why you are shocked to hear from a guard that a big brawl broke out and your boyfriend was in the middle of it and didn’t leave unscathed. 

You went up to the surface to get some quick refills of some supplies you and Sigewinne needed before the bigger supply would come to the fortress. After hearing the news you quickly run to the fortress to see the wounded and you can tell the guys that were on the receiving end of your boyfriend. But you don’t see the man in question here. 

Sigewinne sees you come in and walks to meet you. “If you’re wondering where His Grace is, he isn’t here. I think he went to his office after the brawl. Go to him and I’ll stay here.” You nod and tell her to send a guard if she needs your help. 

You walk to his office and smile at the guards and tell them not to come in. You hear grunts coming from upstairs knowing he is in pain. You head up the stairs and see him on his chair. You walk to one of the cabinets and grab the mini first aid kit you kept in here for situations like these. It only makes your blood boil now. 

You got the kit and walk over to Wriothesley. You take a good look at his bruised face, split lip, blood dripping from his eyebrows, and scraped up knuckles. You see his nicely done hair flattened against his forehead and his nice dress clothes out of place. Then you see his bright blue eyes staring right at you. Wriothesley smirks at you, “It was a rough one wasn’t it haha.” 

You glare at him and unbutton his bloodied gray vest so he isn’t wearing bloodied clothes, “Ohhh so that’s what you want. You wanna have some fun sweetheart?” 

You glare at him again and take off the vest. Then grab the kit and start working on his face. You clean up the blood and put some bandages on his face then some ointment on his split lip. “Hey leave some scars, gotta scare the prisoners somehow.” 

Once again you sent him a glare, “Wow that’s a death glare. Wait why aren’t you talking?” What a real funny question, he promised you last time he wouldn’t take on a big brawl again. But he obviously didn’t keep that promise. It makes you angry and upset. You just want him to stay safe, is that too much to ask? 

You reach for his left hand start to clean and bandage it. You then switch to his right hand and can’t stop the tears that fall. Which fall right onto his knuckle which makes his freak. “Hey wait why are you crying? Sweetheart come on please look at me.” He grabs your chin and sees your tear stained eyes. “Talk to me please. I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 

You sniffle and let more tears fall, “You broke your promise. You told me you wouldn’t take on a brawl by yourself again. Wriothesley I get you’re the Duke but seriously hold yourself in a higher regard. You are still a person and don’t deserve to be beaten up to stop a fight. You have people that can help you break it up. It’s not your burden to carry all by yourself. Don’t you care about your body? Because I do. I care SO much. I don’t want to see your beautiful face beaten up and your nice clothes ripped and bloodied. It breaks my heart and I can’t keep seeing you like this.” 

Wriothesley stops, wait were you breaking up with him? “Sweetheart please don’t break up with me. I know I promise, and I’m very sorry I broke it. I’m the Duke and I want to send a message and not have my men get hurt over stuff I can handle on my own. I truly promise from now on I’ll go into these situations better. I’ll bring extra men just archons don’t break up with me. I love you so much it hurts.” 

You think he misinterpreted the last thing you said but at least this promise seems like one he won’t break. You smile at him, “I’m not breaking up with you handsome. You misunderstood.” You brush your hands through his hair, “I just don’t like seeing you hurt. I like seeing your handsome face free of blood and bruises. I love you so much too Wriothesley.” 

Wriothesley smiles up at you and pulls you toward him and slots his lips with yours. You feel like with this kiss he’s sealing your promise. 

Yanqing

Yanqing is not only recovering from his little run in with Blade and Dan Heng but is now having a crisis because you’re ignoring him for some reason?? He tried to ask Jing Yuan why you were avoiding him, but he was like “I don’t know Yanqing, I think you need to solve your little lover’s quarrel by yourself.” 

To say he was bewildered might have been an understatement. All he wanted to do after he was thoroughly beat up by an infamous Stellaron Hunter and the previous High Elder was to just be in your presence and have you tend to his wounds because you always did it better than he ever could. 

So here you sit, all by yourself, in the Exalting Sanctum, trying to calm yourself down. You just can’t believe that Yanqing would try to recapture one of the Stellaron Hunters, when he knows just how dangerous they are, and all by himself on top of that. 

When you had first heard that Yanqing had gone off on his own accord to try to recapture Blade, it wasn’t even from Yanqing himself, rather from the seat of Divine Foresight himself. To say you were bewildered and just plain terrified was probably an understatement, because Blade is a very dangerous criminal with a high bounty on his head. Why would Yanqing try to go after him by himself for starters and without an order from Jing Yuan??

When he first got back after Jing Yuan told him to take his leave, he finds you sitting in Exalting Sanctum all by yourself looking quite upset. His first thought is that someone bothered you but when he reached where you were sitting all he got was a very harsh glare. 

“Hey there my dear, what’s got you so upset? Did someone bother you?” You glare at him even harder once you see his injuries and stand up and huff before grabbing his hand and dragging him to your home. Yanqing can tell that you are very clearly upset but he can’t seem to figure out why, because you have never been this mad before. You drag him to your room where you kept your medical supplies and push him to sit on your bed, and you were not that gentle with it.

He winces at the sting it causes his injuries when you push him and you glare harder at the floor. You grab your little medical kit that you have, for times just like this, and begin on working tending to his injuries. He looks at you quizzically, because by now you would have said something, anything at all in response to him, and he is growing more confused and nervous by the second, because was it something he did?

The silence between you two lasts for a little longer until he speaks up and asks “hey, did I do something wrong? Did I upset you somehow? Please just talk to me?” You look up and glare at him again before silently getting back to his injuries, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re angry or because you were so nervous for his safety, but you realize that your hands are shaking. 

Yanqing soon realizes this too and his eyes widen in alarm. “Wait, why are you shaking? Please tell me what’s wrong and I’ll do all I can to fix it, please, please just talk to me!” You begin to fumble with the last of his bandages and as soon as he sees that he grabs your hands with one of his and your face with the other. You look up at him and it doesn’t take long for you to break, tears start forming in your eyes before you’re spilling what’s bothering you. 

“Yanqing how could you think that going after a Stellaron Hunter all by yourself was a good idea?? Do you have any idea how worried I was when Jing Yuan told me that you went off on your own with no orders?? Blade is such a dangerous person and you thought that the best course of action was to go off on your own and try to recapture him?? You could’ve avoided getting these injuries, don’t you know that?? It hurts me every time that I have to tend to your injuries because I know you’re out there getting hurt everyday and there’s nothing I can do about it! That’s why I’m upset Yanqing because I hate seeing you hurt!”

To say Yanqing was stunned was an understatement, because he was the reason you were upset? How could he have let that happen? “Wait, I’m so sorry my dear I never meant to upset you. I just wanted to prove myself and recapture the Stellaron Hunter after he escaped, I know he’s dangerous but I thought I could do it. I’m sorry for overlooking your feelings when I get hurt, please forgive me.” 

Your eyes soften before you take your hands gently out of his and wrap your arms around him. “I forgive you Yanqing, please just stop being reckless alright?” His arms immediately come to wrap around you before he buries his head into your stomach. “I promise I’ll try to be less reckless, my dear.” 

Let’s just say that from that point on Jing Yuan was impressed when he noticed that Yanqing got just a little less reckless, and he mentally thanked you for that.