#Unacceptable with the amount of notes it has

[ddarker-dreams]

Mutual Destruction.

Yan Anaxagoras x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, teacher-student dynamics (anaxa's your prof), power imbalance, drugging (anaxa slips you an aphrodisiac), allusions to fearing pregnancy, not SFW, heavily dubious consent. Word count: 5k.

Earlier, you discovered an inconspicuous note within your belongings. The following message was inked inside: 

Meet me in my private quarters at the Curtain-Fall Hour’s first quint. Tardiness is unacceptable. 

There was no signature to indicate who left it. The paper was of fine quality, you doubt your fellow students had any of this caliber in their possession. They’d be remiss to tear and treat it roughly if they did. The presumptuous command served as your best hint. Only one person in the Grove spoke to you that way — Anaxa. Normally, you’d recognize his neat script, but this was scrawled, nearly illegible.

Ever since then, dread has followed you like a ghost haunting the living. 

The note’s vague nature dredged up the worst your brain could offer. You’re always doing what you can to keep your capricious professor placated, but this doesn’t bode well. You can’t recall doing anything to earn his misplaced ire. In public, you keep to yourself, engaging in the bare minimum amount of socialization necessary to continue your studies. He’s never raised an issue with this conduct before, aside from some dry remarks.

It’s possible — though unlikely — that you’re overthinking matters. Perhaps he was in a hurry and failed to consider how you’d interpret the abstract order. As much as you wish this were the case, Anaxa isn’t the type to act without a distinct purpose. He’s meticulous in any endeavor he undertakes, especially when you’re involved. 

Nightfall brings a hush over the Grove. Beneath Cerces’ solemn gaze, scholars scorn twilight’s intended purpose, continuing their work against their circadian rhythm’s wishes. No one pays you any mind as you skitter about. Before long, you’re navigating the hallway that leads to Anaxa’s chambers. Every step closer elevates your heart rate. You’ve been so preoccupied with determining your potential transgression that you’ve neglected to craft an approach. 

Should you claim ignorance? Beseech his favor? Form a hill worth dying on with careful rhetoric? 

Your knuckles hover above the door. 

You feel woefully underprepared, like you’re walking into a test you did none of the reading for. Is it too late to retreat? Bide your time, returning when the playing field has evened? If only. You deride yourself for entertaining such naïveté. You have to address this now, before the wound festers, necessitating amputation. You’re still on time. This has to be salvageable, Anaxa’s too sweet on you to set you up for total failure… 

… Right? 

Complex mechanisms whirr into action, opening the door without your prompting. Startled by the spontaneity, you remain immobile as if you’d been turned to stone. 

“Come in,” The beast brooding in his lair invites. “Dawdle any longer and I’ll consider you late.” 

You do as you’re bid. As a Sage, Anaxa’s quarters are spacious and far larger than your meager dorm. This room consists of a living space and kitchenette, with what you assume to be his bedroom separated by a closed door. There are more implements of his craft scattered about than any personal touches. A massive bookshelf catches your attention. Scanning the spines, you barely recognize any of the works in his collection. 

“Please sit,” he motions toward his dining room table. It has two chairs facing opposite each other. The one furthest away is askew, indicating he must’ve been sitting there until recently. 

Anaxa remains standing while you take your seat. Compared to usual, he’s dressed down, his black and teal overcoat noticeably absent. This leaves him in a white collared button-up and dark pants. He’s still wearing that mysterious eyepatch, with golden runes decipherable only to him. They share similar characteristics with the markings inked into his left arm. You’re certain he’d explain their origin if you asked, but caution tempers your curiosity. 

You flinch when your name rolls off his tongue, a reaction he easily picks up on. 

“You needn’t look so frightened,” he says. “Unless, of course, you have a guilty conscience.” 

“I don’t.” 

“Good, good… because, as I’m sure you’re aware, I’m bound to find out any mischief you get up to.” 

For all the weight it carries, he enunciates the word lightly, almost playfully. You swallow the saliva rapidly accumulating in your mouth. With great effort, you meet his gaze, which betrays nothing of his inner thoughts. 

“I’ve been acting how I should, have I not?”

“Mm. So you have.” 

He suddenly seems uninterested in the subject, despite being the one to initiate it. He walks over to his stove, where an intricate teapot sits. He pours it into matching teacups. Then, grabbing the saucers they sit on, he carries them both over to the table, sitting one in front of you and keeping the other for himself. Plumes of smoke rise from the mixture. It has a sweet, earthy aroma. You’ve brewed this for him at his behest in the past.  

Your distorted reflection ripples along the liquid’s surface, showcasing your visible apprehension. 

“Isn’t this caffeinated, professor? Won’t it keep me up all night?”

His lips curl into an odd smile. “In a way.” 

“Then—” 

“Drink,” he interrupts, the command slicing through the air. Then, remembering himself, he softens his voice. “I put a great deal of effort into brewing this. See to it that none is wasted.” 

You swear he fixates on the stretch of your throat as you reluctantly swallow. 

“Now. Regarding why I’ve called you here…” 

Contrary to your expectations, Anaxa begins outlining a project he’d like your assistance with. You keep expecting the details to escalate, but it sounds perfectly mundane. There’s nothing scandalous that justifies the secrecy he shrouded this meeting in. You’ve helped him with research that could’ve seen you expelled from the Grove in the past, this topic is a far cry from those escapades. He wants you to collect material about folktales from the fallen city-state, Styxia. That’s nothing compared to your last undertaking, which saw you setting a priceless Janusopolis relic aflame to use its ashes in an alchemical ritual.

You don’t understand why this couldn’t wait until the following day, but you keep that to yourself. While he explains the methodology you should use, you can’t stop yourself from shifting in your seat. An onset of restlessness overwhelms you. Regardless of how you readjust yourself, you can’t get comfortable. This grows worse as you cross and uncross your legs, the simple motion lighting a fire inside your belly. You cough into your head to cover up the strange, strangled noise that threatens to leave your lips. 

Anaxa raises an eyebrow. “Is everything alright?” 

“Y-Yes. Please continue.” 

His words grow difficult to follow, although the subject isn’t particularly complex. To make matters worse, he’s begun tracing his teacup’s rim with his fingertip, a motion that inspires strange fervor. Your eyes follow the slow, deliberate movement as if under a spell. You never noticed how long and slender his fingers are. You’ve personally witnessed his dexterity, you wonder what it’d be like if he slid them inside you— 

What are you thinking? This is the man responsible for manipulating your time here at the Grove. He’s cut off your access to other academics, forcing you to rely on him and no one else. While his brilliance is unmatched, the knowledge he’s imparted doesn’t excuse the despotism he’s subjected you to. You can’t even enjoy lighthearted conversations with your classmates, owing to the looming shadow he’s cast.

And yet… 

There’s no denying he’s an attractive man. If the circumstances were different, you would’ve been flattered by his interest in you. The dim, flickering candlelight highlights his handsome features, from his full lips to his defined jawline. He must sense the intensity behind your stare, for he goes quiet, steepling his fingers together and studying you. 

“Potent, isn’t it?” he hums, evidently pleased with himself. 

You blink sluggishly. “What?” 

“The tincture you ingested,” he nods to your empty teacup. “I didn’t think you’d drink it all. I’m curious to see how a larger dose will affect you.” 

Huh? 

“What… what are you talking about? What did you do?” 

“You’re a clever girl. You’re bound to put two and two together eventually.” 

Anaxa stands from his seat and approaches. He lifts your chin with his thumb, paying close attention to how your breath hitches at his touch. A manic grin spreads across his face. You know this expression, it’s the one he gets when he’s made a discovery that would shake the world to its very foundation. 

The triumph of a blasphemer.

“Alcohol?” you murmur, furrowing your eyebrows together. 

“Not a depressant — a stimulant,” he corrects. The pad of his thumb rubs over your lower lip. “Though, I suppose I can forgive your erroneous conclusion, given your current… affliction.”

The low purr of his voice has you subconsciously rubbing your thighs together. If possible, his smile widens, almost splitting his face in two. You can’t think straight. The revelation instills revulsion in you, yet any negative emotions are swallowed whole by lust. It takes everything you have not to pounce on him like an animal in heat. You take deep breaths, doing what you can to restrain your desire from boiling over. 

“Why?” 

“Why, indeed?” Anaxa murmurs. When he retracts his hand, you can’t stop your shoulders from drooping in disappointment. He chuckles darkly. “I had an enlightening talk with one of your other professors.” 

The thinly concealed disdain in his tone promises nothing good. 

“I’m not usually one to dwell on the past, but our chat evoked some nostalgia.”

He circles behind you, his hands settling on your shoulders. Then, he massages your stiff muscles, eliciting a sigh from you. It feels nice. He’s applying just the right amount of pressure, kneading out all the tension. You can’t muster up any aversion to his touch. If anything, this light pampering isn’t nearly enough. 

“He commented on your eagerness to participate in discussion,” his voice is a soft yet sinister whisper, “How insatiable your thirst for knowledge is.” 

Anaxa pauses his soothing ministrations. He entangles his hand in your hair, tugging it to the side so that you’re made to stare into unbridled madness.

“My prized pupil… were you not that way with me once? So desperate to please, so ecstatic when I lavished you with my attention?” 

He pulls you up by your shoulders with surprising strength. The abruptness disturbs your balance, forcing you to fall into him, who is more than happy to hold you. Your mind feels like it’s fraying at the seams. You want to refute his point, but you can’t form a cohesive counterargument. Everything is fragmented, shattered into pieces that, in any other circumstance, you could build a bulwark with. Whatever you consumed has annihilated your defenses from within. You don’t think you could even stand without his assistance. 

“You’ve turned cold. Now, you can’t wait until you can get rid of me.” 

You shake your head, not trusting your voice to form a competent rebuttal. 

“No?” There’s a mocking lilt to his upward inflection. Instead of experiencing offence, his patronizing tone has your breathing growing heavier. “Prove me wrong, then.”

Your lips meet in a frantic kiss. 

He tastes like tea and honey, the sweetness unbecoming of such a bitter man. You fasten your arms around his neck, wanting to regain some control by asserting yourself. At least he can’t form reprimands when you’re sucking on his tongue. The illusion of dominance is short-lived. He spins you around, pinning your back against the wall with his weight. 

You grunt at the unexpected collision. He pulls back, breaking the trail of saliva connecting your lips. 

“Are you alright?” 

His genuine sounding concern hurts more than any of the nonsense he’s spewed so far. Tears sting the corners of your eyes, and you grit your teeth, unwilling to expose any more vulnerability. He’s okay with drugging and manipulating you, yet this is where he draws the line? A little pain? 

“Like you care,” you hiss out.

“I do,” he replies, unusually gentle. “To me, you’re—” 

His eye widens as you palm him through his pants, putting an end to the confession you’d rather die than hear. There’s no way you’re letting him finish that sentence. If he can delude himself, you deserve the same willful ignorance. You don’t want to know that this extends far past lechery. While no less dubious, there have always been stories of those in authority lusting after their subordinates. That fits a comprehensible framework. What you find truly unsettling is the possibility that this won’t stop at carnality — it’ll metastasize like a malignant tumor. 

Afraid he might return to his thought, you slip your hand past his waistband, fumbling around until you find what you’re looking for. Despite the awkward angle, you envelop him, smearing the copious amounts of precum along his length. He’s hot and hard in your palm. Once he’s sufficiently lubricated, you pump his length. There’s satisfaction to be found in how your initiative renders a master orator speechless. 

Anaxa nestles himself into your neck, muffling his pants against your skin. You grip him tight, almost painfully so, taking out your frustration by pleasuring him as roughly as he’ll allow. He thrusts himself into your hand, unashamedly chasing his pleasure. 

Much to your amazement, you feel his cock twitching in your hand, hinting that he’s nearing his end. That didn’t take long. No more than a few minutes, if you had to guess. How debauched is this man for you, anyway? 

Against your better judgment, you decide to tease him. “So soon, professor? I guess you are past your prime. If you can’t take care of me, I guess I’ll have to find some younger, more virile—” 

“Insolent brat,” he snaps. He snatches your wrist and pulls you away before you can finish him off. “It’s virility you want, then?” 

Anaxa scoops you up, further calling into question his self-proclaimed epithet of ‘frail scholar.’ You suppress a yelp, clinging to him out of necessity. He kicks open the door to his bedroom and carries you in. It’s dark inside, save for slivers of silvery moonlight peaking through his curtains. Once he lays you down on his mattress, he detaches himself, glowering down at you as he unbuttons his top. 

He makes quick work of the garment, chucking it off to the side. You take in the sight of his lean, well-sculpted form. That would explain the ease with which he picked you up. You suppose that for all his claims of frailty, he’s still a Chrysos Heir. No one can say fate doesn’t have a sense of humor, selecting a blasphemer to succeed the gods. He certainly looks the part. Long, soft hair, unblemished skin; even the way he moves is worthy of veneration. He’s never in a rush, always operating at his own tempo. It’s the rest of the world that must match his rhythm. 

Anaxa meets your stare, amusement glinting in his eye. “Have you forgotten how to blink?” 

You don’t get a chance to reply before he’s hovering above you, his red, dangling earring glinting in the sparse light. 

“Still clothed?” He clicks his tongue. “I have to do everything when it comes to you.” 

He tugs your blouse over your head hard enough that you hear something rip. 

“Hey—” 

He shushes you, pressing his pointer finger against your lip. “Settle down. You won’t be needing it; you’re not leaving this room anytime soon.” 

Next, he helps you out of your pants, leaving you fully exposed. The sight forces him to stop. Your collarbones, cleavage, abdomen, and plump thighs; he drinks you in like you’re a fine wine. His fingers twitch by his side, the impact you have on him tangible. He must not know where to start.

“...You’ll be my ruin,” he mutters.

You don’t get to ask what he means by that. He presses his palm against your stomach, encouraging you to lie down. Then, he spreads your legs, examining the impact his concoction had. Using his pointer and middle finger, he feels you through your panties and hums. You feel him gauging your reaction as he rubs up and down, torturously slow. Your face burns at the squelching noises produced by such a simple motion. Eventually, he focuses on your clit, delighting in the reactions it draws out. He alternates his speed, always slowing whenever you seem to be enjoying yourself too much. 

“Professor, please,” you beg, discarding your pride in favor of relief. “Just fuck me already. I can’t take it anymore.” 

He ignores your pleas, too focused on dragging your panties down. He brings the flimsy fabric to his nose and inhales, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Now there’s the eagerness I remember. A shame it required slightly underhanded methods to extract, but you’ve always been a stubborn one.” 

Slightly underhanded? If your cognition wasn’t reduced to mush, you would’ve ripped into him. 

After tucking your panties into his pants pocket, he nestles himself between your thighs. He nibbles and sucks the sensitive skin, yet neglects your aching core. It’s pure agony. You try grinding against his face, but he holds you down and tuts. 

“After all the time you’ve made me wait, you can’t endure a few moments?” he sighs. “Mm. I can’t say I dislike this needy side of you.” 

He flattens his tongue against your pussy, licking it vertically. Your hands fly to his head, where your fingers tug at his hair. He grunts, but doesn’t stop you, too preoccupied with his task. Depraved noises fill the air as he eats you out. He forces your legs further apart, granting him complete access to you. When he sucks on your clit, the moans you had hitherto managed to suppress flow out. You hear him chuckling over his success. He’s relentless, devouring you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted. 

You’re close. You don’t want to tell him, fearing he’ll stop right before your pleasure reaches its zenith. Unfortunately, Anaxa’s far too observant. He pulls away, but not without placing a few more greedy kisses against your pussy. 

“Something wrong?” He asks, snickering at your visible frustration. 

“I hate you,” is the best you can offer. 

“Oh, I can tell,” Anaxa replies. He lathers his fingers in your slick, gradually easing them inside, meeting no resistance as he does so. “That must explain why your body is sucking me in.” 

He fingers you at a leisurely pace, committing to memory how he slips in and out of you. It feels as good as you fantasized earlier. His fingers are longer than yours, so they can reach deeper, creating a pleasant friction. Still, without your clit being stimulated, you could be here for a while. Something tells you that’s intentional. Unlike you, he’s in no hurry. He’d gladly spend hours between your thighs, playing with your body to his heart’s content. You don’t want to draw this out. You want to get fucked and have this terrible need alleviated.

“Professor?” 

“Hm?” 

“Won’t you please take care of me already?” You ask, loathing yourself for how easily the words come out. “I feel so strange. I-I don’t know what to do.” 

“An aphrodisiac will do that, darling girl.” 

So that’s what you ingested? You’ve heard of the concept, but you always thought it was confined to fantasy. If anyone could synthesize such a drug, it would be him. Frowning, you try to touch your clit, hoping that will bring you the release he’s keen on denying. He slaps your hand away and stops thrusting his fingers. 

“This is nothing compared to the torment I’ve experienced,” he brings his slick covered fingers to his mouth and sucks. You gawk at him as he savors your taste, your face burning. Once satisfied, he pulls them out with a pop. “So cease your whining. It won’t move me.” 

Sensing this exchange could go on forever, you opt for a new approach. “Anaxagoras, don’t you want to make me yours?” 

You hear his breath hitch when his full name leaves your lips. Encouraged, you prop yourself up on your elbows, undo your bra clasp, and fling it into a shadowy corner. Even in the low light, you note the crimson flush overtaking his features. You play with your tits, staring up at him through your eyelashes, almost pouting. He swallows thickly. You take your nipples in between your thumb and pointer fingers, twisting the pebbled nubs. 

He looks like he’s in pain from how hard he’s holding himself back. 

You need to seize this opportunity before he decides to lecture you for hours on end. Knowing him, it’s possible. 

“Please?” 

Anaxa curses beneath his breath. “Little vixen.” 

He pulls his length out, pumping the engorged flesh to the sight of your bare body. White pearls of precum seep from the tip. With one hand, he rubs the head along your opening, while the other holds your hip in place. Gradually, he pushes himself in, silently eyeing you as he does so. When you let out a pained noise, he stops. His thumb rubs reassuring circles against your skin. You turn your head away, frightened by the reverence etched into his visage. Why can’t he just get this over with? Why is he so intent on ensuring your physical comfort after wreaking havoc on your mind? 

“Deep breaths,” he instructs, as if this were any other lesson. “That’s it. Good girl.”

Anaxa presses his forehead against yours as he fills you to the hilt, his lips parting in an ‘o’. For a moment, you both just stay there, the sounds of your panting filling the air. He brushes his knuckles over your cheek, the skin around his eye softening. The intensity behind his stare bores into you. You frown and look away.

Don’t look at me like that, you think. Stop trying to make this something it isn’t.

He pulls himself out, your walls clenching around nothing in his absence. Then, eases himself back in, moaning your name as he does so. You feel his length pulsating inside you, heavy with want from his ruined orgasm. He takes you slowly, as if this were your wedding night. He caresses you all over, greedily exploring your body. When he settles on your tits, he fondles the soft flesh, swooping down to take a nipple in his mouth. You whimper as he lolls his tongue around it, before switching to the next and repeating the process all over again.

Despite how hot your body feels, you shiver. 

His lips glisten with saliva when he pulls back, contentment evident in his countenance. "Touch yourself for me, dear girl."

You do as he says and rub circles into your clit. Finally, he throws your leg over his shoulder and fucks you. What started as an uncomfortable stretch shifts into a deep, all-consuming pleasure. With each snap of his hips, you whimper a confused mix of vowels and consonants that somewhat resemble his name. This makes him lose what little restraint he had remaining. He pounds you into the bed, pulling your hips down to meet each thrust. 

“Fuck,” he rasps. You’ve never heard him curse before today. “You are the closest thing to the divine this world has.” 

This man, who barely gave others the time of day, chased after you like you were the key to understanding the universe. No matter what you’ve felt toward him, you’ve always been weak to his praise. It feeds this famished part of yourself that you never knew existed. 

He lavishes your neck with open-mouthed kisses, his hand moving to knead your bouncing chest. Your entire being is dominated by this heretic whose worship is indistinguishable from desecration. You try to focus on chasing your own pleasure, but he’s impossible to ignore. The scent of old books, the taste of honey, and the sounds of depravity lull you into a trance. 

It doesn’t take long for you to come undone on his cock. Your walls clamp down on him, earning a hearty groan. His fingernails dig into your skin, indicating that he’s not far off himself. 

He focuses on letting you ride out your orgasm. Once you go limp, however, it's his high that he fixates on. He manipulates your body to his liking and pounds into you. His hand rises to your jaw, where he holds you steady so that he can kiss you. He slants his lips against yours, nibbling and sucking your lower lip until it feels sore. His breathy moans increase in volume, as does the speed in which he fucks you.

He chuckles when he stops kissing you, drunk on the pleasure you're giving him. "Oh, you're even better than I imagined."

You stare up at him with heavy eyelids, and mumble, "'Imagined...?'"

"Yes, dear girl," he delights in confirming. "Right here, in this very bed."

You think your heart is beating fast enough to give out.

"All day, you distract me, and all night, you infest my dreams."

His thrusts are getting sloppier. He must be nearing his end, having strained himself to make this last as long as possible.

"So take what I give you," his voice comes out labored. "Everything. It's... ah... all for you."

Anaxa pushes himself as far as he can inside you, shuddering as he cums. The thick, viscous substance coats your walls, his load seemingly endless. You can feel his cock twitching while he fills you to the brim. Faintly, you realize you’re playing with fire, but you’re too fucked out to care. When he pulls away, his ample spend leaks out. He stares in awe, his glossy lips agape, utterly bewitched by this proof of your coupling. 

You wince as he gathers his cum along your folds, then pushes it back inside. Feeling overstimulated, you try closing your legs, but he holds them open, intent to look a while longer.

“You’re gross,” you manage in between labored breaths.

He collapses to your right, pulling you flush against him so your head rests on his heaving chest. 

“And you’re lovely,” he peppers kisses along your perspiring forehead. “Don’t be cross with me. You enjoyed yourself, didn’t you?” 

You don’t dignify that with a response. 

Anaxa smooths out your hair, tucking the strands back into place. While you come down from your respective highs, reality smacks you like a brick to the face. You grimace as you recall the semen dripping out of you. 

“I need a contraceptive.” 

You try getting up, but he tightens his grip, holding you hostage. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes, you bastard,” you writhe in his arms to no success. Panic starts to set in. How can you get some before it’s too late? Anaxa doesn’t share in your anxiety, he seems content to run his hands up and down your bare back. It occurs to you then that the solution might share its origins with the problem. “Make me one.” 

If it’s created by him, there’s no chance the worst could come to pass. 

“Didn’t you allude to favoring virility? Now’s my opportunity to prove myself.” 

“I will murder you in your sleep.” 

“And raise our offspring without a father? Ah, it’s a jest, there’s no need to thrash.” 

Thoroughly exhausted, you close your eyes, accepting that you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. Not until he wills it. “Anaxa, please. This isn’t funny. Just thinking about it makes me feel sick.”

“Anaxagoras,” he corrects. 

You flatly repeat his full name, much to his pleasure. 

“… I foresaw this happening. I’ve already prepared a contraceptive, allow me a moment.” 

He lifts himself with a grimace, likely worn out himself. You’re left on your lonesome as he enters the other room. A few minutes later, he returns with a pill and a glass of water. Wordlessly, you snatch the offerings, downing the pill with urgency. While you gulp down the water, he hands you a plain shirt. You place the empty glass on the nightstand and throw the garment on. It’s far too large, but you don’t mind. All you care about is covering yourself up. 

Frowning, you glance around, failing to locate an important article of clothing. 

“Give me my underwear back.”

“I’m afraid I’ve misplaced it,” he lies. You narrow your eyes as he gives you a pair of boxers instead. “This should suffice.” 

Next, you reach for your pants, but he grabs them before you can and holds them out of reach. “You don’t intend to walk back, do you?” 

“Why would I stay?” you mumble. He lifts them higher, denying your grasping hands. 

“I need to monitor you for potential side effects,” he explains. 

“...” 

You turn your back to him and lie down. Arguing is useless if his mind is made up. The mattress dips as he sits, but you remain motionless, even when his fingertips glide along your arm. Silence reigns while he maps out glyphs against your skin. Your emotions are in a complete disarray. Now that you’re not blinded by lust, his touch is akin to spiders on you. It’s a small mercy that he didn’t make the aphrodisiac as long lasting as he could’ve. 

The mere thought churns your insides. 

“I’ll need some time to compile the materials you requested.”

He pauses, processing the sharp shift in topic. “Is this about Styxia?” 

“What else?” you retort. “Have I not always delivered on what you ask of me?” 

You’re grateful you can’t see his expression. For once, you don’t want access to the inner workings of his mind. Let him remain an enigma. Every piece of himself he breaks off to give you will be thrown away. He’s cast you as his ruin; a role you eagerly accept. Shouldn’t you get to plot the trajectory of his downfall? It’s only right. You will take everything, hollowing him out until naught but a vessel remains, and he’ll allow it, because it’s you. 

The first fissure spreads. 

“You do, every time. Without exception,” Anaxa eventually affirms. “... I expect great things from our collaboration.”

The Great Performer takes his place by your side in this amphitheater you’ve both painstakingly constructed. 

[sugarplumkneecaps]

I may have an absolutely filthy smut request for shadow x reader where Shadow has heats and they’re worse since he’s with the reader (can be human or mobian whichever makes you comfortable) because it makes him wanna breed them and maybe one night they both wake up and realise during the night shadow was moved the reader into a mating press subconsciously and then the reader asks him about it and he admits he wants too but he’s worried he’ll actually get the reader pregnant so the reader suggests some mutual masturbation and he can’t help but bite and nip at the readers neck during it and maybe he accidentally finishes on the reader and he just thinks it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen

A/N: OH. MY. GOD. YES. I love this ooo!! Okay, here you go <3(P.S. So sorry for the long wait! I hope you like it!)

Mutual Satisfaction

Pairing: Shadow x Reader C/W: !!! NSFW !!! MDNI !!! Genre: Smut

The summer air was hot, even at night, which made sleeping a rather bothersome chore. Normally, you and Shadow would curl up together, enjoying the intermingling of your fur as you drifted off. Sure, you hardly ever woke up in the same position, but his touch brought you a great deal of comfort. Well, normally it did anyway. The past few nights, Shadow kept his distance from you, climbing into bed and reaching over only to plant a kiss on your forehead before returning to the far end of the bed. You had chalked this up to the heat, as you couldn’t really blame him. Cuddling was nice, but sleeping in a puddle of your own sweat? Not so much.

Today had been especially hot, even with the window AC hard at work in the living room. Every year you had taken a mental note to buy another unit for the bedroom once summer was over and every year you had subsequently forgotten. So when it was time to leave your post in front of the AC, shirt pulled up to enjoy the cool air as it made its way to your skin, you debated sleeping on the tile in the kitchen. Surely it would be better than dying in the room, right?

Shadow made his way over to you, placing a gentle hand on your exposed hip. “I’m off to bed. You coming?”

You nodded, as reluctant as you were to enter the inevitable sauna that awaited you both, the idea of you and Shadow sleeping separately was simply unacceptable. Entering the room, Shadow was by the window, prying it open and placing the large box fan along the window sill at full power. You pealed each article of clothing off of you, a last ditch effort to be able to sleep through this heatwave. As Shadow turned to face you, something in him stirred at the sight of your naked body. His eyes met yours, questioning. You looked down at yourself, suddenly feeling a tad self conscious, “is this okay? It’s excruciatingly hot.”

He nodded, breaking eye contact and moving toward the bed, “of course.” His voice was stiff and the amount of time he took to remove his gloves gave you pause.

“Everything okay?”

Shadow nodded silently, climbing into bed onto his side with his back toward you as he had done every night in recent history. “G’night.”

The cold response from him nearly cut through the warm air between you two. Your eyebrows knitted together with concern as you lay down next to your partner. Not wanting to pry too much, your eyes focused on the ceiling above, hoping that sleep would come quickly.

---

Lucid dreams overtook your sleep, indiscernible shapes of color meshing together much like an overactive lava lamp swirling in your mind. You reached your hand out to touch them, the sensation unlike any you had felt before but still soft, still tender. Hints of lavender mixed with something iron. The next time you reached out, a force pushed back, your body being enveloped in the soft cloud you had found yourself upon. The colors shifted to warm hues of red, much like Shadow’s crimson eyes. What was once globs of color turned into sharp points that dug into your biceps, your thighs adding your own shade of red to the mix. You pondered the meaning of life, the world, and what realm you existed in this very moment.

The answer, to your surprise, woke you as you let out a small yelp, the pointed end of color finding a tender spot along your inner thighs. What was once a colorful dreamscape faded away to reveal Shadow staring down at you, shock plastered on his face. His claws were dug into your legs, holding you in place with your knees caressing either side of your face. Even more of a surprise was the realization of the wetness on your stomach as Shadow’s throbbing cock sat between your legs seeping precum into your fur.

As quickly as the realization hit, Shadow retreated, clambering off the bed and moving a hand to cover the tip of his growth. Your legs fell down onto the mattress as you were nearly too stunned to speak. Nearly.

“What- Shadow? What was that all about??” your fingers subconsciously moved to the puddle on your stomach, the wet strands glistening between your fingertips.

Shadow couldn’t face you as he muttered a long string of curses under his breath.

Sitting up, too impatient to wait for whatever the hell this was to be revealed on his time, you prompted once more with a bit more force behind your words, “Shadow!”

His body jerked slightly before he turned to you once more. Even in the dark you could see his cheeks darkened with blush. “I.. woke up like that.” An audible swallow came from him.

You sat in silence, raising your eyebrows as if to inquire more because while he had technically answered you, you felt you deserved more clarification than that. His cold response earlier, the distance between you two, and then suddenly being woken up in a mating press? None of it added up.

After a long period of silence, Shadow relented. “I’ve been feeling a bit... on edge as of recently. Something I could not quite place. But every time I’ve been near you, I’ve felt an almost primal urge to...” he hesitated, the awkwardness endearing even under these circumstances. “You know.”

“No, I don’t know Shadow.”

His eyes pleaded with you to not have to say it. Once again, you raised an eyebrow until he murmured, “breed... you.”

You had heard mention of rutting season for hedgehogs, but were surprised that Shadow was subject to it considering his conception. Although the infrequency of it added up with everything you knew about him.

“You couldn’t have just asked to fuck?” you asked, the nonchalance of your tone surprising even to you.

Shadow’s chuckle cut through the tension as he sat next to you, handing you a washrag for your stomach. “As I said, it has been a very primal feeling. I worry I would not be able to stop until I’m completely sated.” His low tone and the sexual desire dripping from each word stirred your stomach and made your heart race. He reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips. “Plus, I don’t think we are necessarily in a position to have a baby.”

He wasn’t wrong. The apartment you both lived in wasn’t the smallest, but the prospect of a child would mean needing more space in more ways than just living. You both worked incredibly odd hours and either of you could be called away for long missions within a moment’s notice. The idea of having a small child along for the ride was out of the question. You nodded in agreement, loving the feeling of Shadow’s lips on your knuckles. Just then, an idea came to you.

“What if we don’t fuck?”

Shadow looked up at you, his expression one of “no duh, what do you think I’ve been avoiding”. You took his other hand in yours and held them both in front of you.

“We can still cum without fucking. Might take the edge off.”

Your dark counterpart pondered this offer for awhile, the bulge between his legs twitching as it became erect once more.

“Okay... what did you have in mind?”

You released his hands and fell back onto the bed, spreading your legs as you traced circles on your own skin. “We could both get off? On our own? But, like, together.”

A low chuckle came from Shadow, “mutual masturbation?”

With a small nod, you watched as his eyes trained on your digits, mesmerized by their movements as they moved down your figure slowly.

“Ah, what the hell.” His own hand found its way to the base of his cock, gripping his fingers around its girth as he started working it up... and down.

Each movement of his encouraged your own as your hand found your own clit, your fingertips lightly flicking it between circular rubs. A soft moan escaped your lips, encouraging sounds of lust and desire to be released from Shadow’s throat. Both of your movements quickened, curses layered between pants and moans filling the air.

Shadow couldn’t bear it. “You’re so fucking beautiful-“ he gasped out, shifting his body on top of yours. “I need to feel you. Please. Fuck!”

His hot breath tickled your neck, sending shivers throughout your body, the sensation bringing you closer to your climax. You whispered his name in ecstasy as his shaft lay between your wet slit. Slowly, Shadow worked his hips to coat his length in your juices, the friction against your clit and the tip of his cock too much for either of you to bear. A growl worked its way through his body as he opened his mouth around your shoulder, his teeth making contact with your tough skin.

Chasing your orgasm, the sudden pressure on your shoulder and your pussy brought your climax to an explosive conclusion just as Shadow found his. Hot cum poured from him onto your stomach, both of you panting as you were both well spent. Getting his bearings, Shadow lifted himself up, admiring his work before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. You smiled against his, euphoria setting in.

[writting-stuff-sometimes]

Night in Vegas- Lando x fem reader

Summary: Y/N had been Lando's PR, it had been messy and she moved to Red Bull, but maybe things were not as bad as she thought.

Warnings: Abusive Max (Sorry someone had to be the bad guy) smutty ending.

Notes: No hate to anyone this story just needed a villain.

___________________________________________

The moment the job offer came from Red Bull you didn't think it twice. You had been Lando's PR for the last 2 years, which was kind of a nightmare. He had the worst cases of verbal diarrhea, not that Max didn't but the paycheck was worth the extra work. Also, the interactions with Lando had always been weird and uncomfortable.

He was so nice and funny around everyone else but you, whenever it was just you two, you could hear the grass grow. In the beginning, you tried to get to know him, create somewhat of a bond so you could understand him better and work around that info, but every time you tried to get him to tell you something about him he would shut you out, keeping his answers short and dry.

And here you were, your first six months as Max PR agent were...interesting, he was a master in driving but thanks to his dad and the people around him, his public image was a challenge, a challenge you loved to work, at least you did until he started showing his real self. It began with small tantrums, mood swings when an interview had been scheduled when he had agreed to go play paddle, or that one time on a bad day when a reporter asked him about his dad's history with the law even when you had precisely warned them not to ask about any of that.

But that was all fun and games until tonight's event for the Vegas GP. Usually, the US GP's parties were a nightmare. Tons and tons of media people and influencers with little idea about F1. Yet they were important to attend because of the amount of rich people the teams craved as their lawful sponsors, so all the drivers were requested to go. This meant an awful fight with Max who hated these events where he had to "prostitute" himself for a couple of millions, it was particularly tricky now that some pictures and supposed messages showing Kelly might have been cheating, surfaced. You promised him to warn everybody that any questions about his personal life were off the table for any of the interviews, but American media cared little about that.

"Are you stupid or something?" His angry voice was so much like his dad's. Dry, hurtful, and insulting even when he wasn't using big curse words.

"Max, I told everyone personal questions were off the table. I sent a memo last week and a reminder this morning" You walked following him closely as he exited the event venue. Your heels making it difficult for you to keep his pace.

"I don't care!" He stopped and turned towards you abruptly, making you crash against his body. "If Christian gives me any shit about not being here I will make sure he knows this was all your fault" His voice loud and angry felt even more intimidating as he was towering over you, his red face so close to yours you could feel the heat radiate from it.

"But-"

"Shut it, I don't want to hear it" He spat.

"Hey, mate, easy" You both turned to look at the curled hair driver approaching at a firm pace.

"Lando, this has nothing to do with you"

"It does when you're talking like that to Y/N" He gently held your arm pulling you back, placing himself between you and Max.

"How did you deal with this shit for two years? she's the worst"

"I disagree, she's the best"

"What? Why are you defending her?" Max looked in shock from Lando's intervention, and to be honest, so were you.

"Because I know the mess you are and you talking to her like that is unacceptable and most likely uncalled for. We should've never let her go, I've begging Zak to get her back and after this, there's no way I'm letting her stay at RB"

"What the fuck? I don't...Wait, did you two ...? She must be a good fuck if you want her back so bad" A bitter laugh left his chest.

There it was, the angry verbal diarrhea.

You wanted to jump in and tell him you had never even crossed two complete phrases with Lando, how the hell were you going to fuck him? But no sound left your body, you were just a passenger in this trainwreck.

"Max, come on, It's not her fault your life's a fucking mess and that you have no idea how to deal with it. And take it from me, mate, you don't need a PR manager, you need a therapist."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Max took a couple of steps forward and faced Lando menacingly. He wasn't much taller than the Brit but seemed angry enough to cause damage.

"This is enough" You finally spoke, your voice shaky as you grabbed Lando's arm trying to pull him back. But he didn't move an inch.

"I'm not afraid of you mate" Lando hissed.

"Ok enough" You said in the most motherly voice ever and stepped in between them. "Lando, thanks but that's enough. You two don't want to do or say anything you'll regret later"

"See you on the track, mate" Said Lando as he took your hand and pulled you toward the parking lot.

You walked with him still in shock from the situation, expecting for him to let go of your hand as soon as you were out of sight from Max, but he kept going until he reached the Valet and gave him his ticket.

"Thanks fo that" You tried breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I think I need to go back there tho, I might not have a job tomorrow, but I don't need them to fire me because of not complying with my duties, Maybe I can find Max and convince him-"

"If they don't fire you, you're quitting" He said as he typed on his phone.

"What?! No, I can't do that, I can't afford to lose my job"

"You'll have a job"His voice was confident as he kept typing.

"Lando, I really-"

"Your car, Mr.Norris" The valet cut you off opening the passenger door for you.

"Get in" Lando walked toward the door to hold it himself.

"Lan-"

"Get in... please" He finally looked at you, something in his eyes telling you to do it. Not wanting to perform another scene now in front of the valet, you got inside the fancy McLaren. Your feet thanked you for the much-needed rest after the little sprint.

He removed his suit jacket, got in the driver's side, and drove off.

"I swear, you're not going to be jobless, you can stop with the bouncy leg" A hint of a laugh in his voice. Of course, he could laugh about it, he was worth millions, if he lost his job that same night, he'd have enough money to live comfortably for two lives.

Your phone started ringing in your bag. Chirstian's face on your screen made your heart beat a thousand miles. You could almost hear him, his calm yet angry voice made your skin crawl.

"Don't answer him, there's no need"

"Lando, you don't get it, it's not that simple"

A ding on his phone and a pop-up notification on his console screen called your attention.

Zak: Fine, I'm ok with it, we can talk details tomorrow.

"See?" He said smiling at the notification. You stared at him confused.

"I promised him I would behave my best for the rest of my contract if they took you back. Welcome back to Mclaren" A big smile on his face. It was odd being on the receiving end of that smile.

"Sadly, you won't be working with me. You will be part of the team's PR, I think that's an even bigger paycheck, tho"

"Ok, stop stop stop" Your voice filled with slight panic. "What the fuck's happening?"

"Wow, your first bad word" He was way too entertained with the situation.

"That you know of" Your facade was off, screw being professional, this moment was a moment for panic.

Christian's number shined on your screen again.

"Hello" You finally answered.

"Y/N, I just got a thousand messages from Max, and from the team at the event, what's going on?"

"Christian, Max lost it after some journalist asked him about Kelly, I had clearly said no questions about that were allowed"

"You should not have left Max to leave the party, we need him back there"

"I tried to stop him but-"

"No buts, Y/n, that's your job"

"No"

"What?"

"No, that's not my job, I'm not a babysitter, I'm a PR agent, I should not be dealing with tantrums and the equivalent of being spit in the face by an angry baby just because he's Max Verstappen"

You took a deep breath as the man on the other side of the phone kept quiet. Netflix would kill to have footage of this situation.

"I quit" You finally said

"What?" His high-pitched voice told you he was as surprised as you by the words leaving your mouth. You turned to look a Lando, he had the biggest smile on his face.

"I quit, Christian. I can stop by to sign my resignation tomorrow."

"But-"

"I'm sorry but I have to go now. I will stop by your office tomorrow to sign whatever is needed and to return my credentials. Have a good night" You hung up with shaky hands. As much as you sounded confident you were screaming inside.

"Nice" Lando's accent so thick.

"Oh my God" You placed your head between your legs and took deep breaths, trying not to faint.

"It's ok, it will all be ok" You felt his hand run softly up and down your back which felt weirdly soothing and calming.

You finally felt calm enough to lift your head, realizing he had pulled over at a truck stop next to the highway.

"What the fuck just happened?" You closed your eyes, the world felt as if it was spinning out of orbit.

"It will be ok, you were amazing"

"I will regret this tomorrow"

"I could help you with that" he said under his breath, you barely catching his words.

"What?"

"Never mind. Listen, you'll be fine, you'll join the team for the next season, and you can take this time as a well-deserved vacation"

"What are you talking about? Maybe Zak only told you that so you would stop bothering him. I can't wait until the next season. Oh my God, I need to call Christian back, if I apologize and explain that I was drunk or something he might not fire me" you said as you fumbled with your phone trying to get your shaky hands to get your calls.

"Stop, no, Y/n" In a swift move, Lando took your phone from your hand.

"Give it back! This is all your fault!"

"What?!"

"If you had stayed out of this I might have convinced Max to go back to the party and none of this had happened" You said as you almost jumped over him to get your phone back as he moved his hand around keeping you away from it.

"Oh c'mon, you wouldn't have lasted two more weeks with his annoying ass, I love Max but he's a pain" He sounded way too entertained by all this.

"Lando, stop it! Give me back my phone!"

"No, you have to calm down"

"No, give it back" you were almost kneeling over the seat.

"Y/n, stop"

"No"

"Y/n!"

"NO, GIVE IT-" Before you could finish your sentence his free hand grabbed you from your neck and pulled you toward him, his lips crashed into yours, finally getting you to stop moving. You even stopped breathing.

After a couple of seconds or hours, you weren't sure anymore, he let go of the fist he had formed around your hair and pulled back. His cheeks flushed as if he had been the one who had gotten kissed out of nowhere.

"Have I been drugged? Am I hallucinating? This has to be a weird trip"

His particular laugh sent chills down your spine.

"C'mon, it wasn't my best job but I'm not used to kissing people as they're having a panic attack, I needed you to calm down"

"And kissing me was the best you could come up with?"

"You're not thinking about your phone or Christian anymore, are you?"

"You're sick"

"Listen, I'm sorry I did it like that, ok? I stepped over a boundary and I apologize, but I know that after this you might hate me for the rest of your life and this seemed like the only moment I was going to be able to do it, so I'm sorry but not really"

"You can't go around kissing people just because"

"I didn't do it just because"

"What?"

"Y/N, I'm fucking in love with you!" He screamed.

"What?" Your voice is barely a whisper

"I'm sorry, I was dumb ok?"

"I'm not getting any of this"

"Ok, I'll explain. It took me about 2 months to fall head over heels for you, ok? You're smart, incredibly beautiful, funny, and so good at your job, it was hard not to fall in love with you. But I know I can be an asshole, so trying to stay away from you and not ruin everything I behaved like an even bigger asshole, pushing you away and into Red Bull's arms. So as an apology, I've been having talks with Zak. this has been going on for months. So no this just didn't come up, Max just made it easier for me to set the plan in motion"

You stared at his proud face in awe.

"Are you breathing?" He asked when not. single sound had left your body for a long time.

"You're in love with me?"

"Um yeah" He blushed and almost looked away but he didn't.

"For the two years we worked together, you were in love with me?"

"Yeah, basically"

"You have a shitty way of showing love"

"Sorry" he laughed under his breath

"You're nuts"

"I know" As soon as he saw you had calmed down he stretched his hand softly caressing your cheek. "I'm nuts for you"

"Ew, don't"

He laughed, the sound making you feel something new.

"I don't know"

"What?"

"What's going on"

"Maybe another kiss might help? I'm actually asking this time"

"Ok" You answered in a low whisper.

"Ok" He softly whispered as he took you by the neck, and pulled you toward him. It was a mutual kiss now, your lips dancing with his. His tongue traced your lips and they parted allowing your tongue to start a fight with his.

The kiss heated up as his other hand grabbed your hips and pulled you over him. Your ass pressed on the horn startling both of you and making you laugh, but quickly you returned to your make-out session.

His hand shily traveled down your spine and stopped over the soft satin fabric covering your ass. You knew exactly what he was trying to test, so you moved yours down his chest, feeling his racing heart, and traveled down all the way to his pants. You could feel his growing bulge and gave it a squeeze. He moaned deeply and gave a slap to your ass, making you moan too.

You were about to unbuckle his belt but his hand landed over yours.

"Wait, do you actually want to do this?" he asked out of breath.

"Yes" Your voice shaky from the excitement.

"Are you sure? I don't want to force you or-"

"Lando, I want you to fuck me"

Your words sent an electric shock through his body, you could even feel his dick twitch under your hand.

"I'm all yours" He smiled and moved his lips to your neck, you threw your head back giving him space to explore it and its sensitive areas. He gave soft bites around it, as he stretched to the glove compartment getting a condom out of it.

"You're a manwhore"

"I was just manifesting this"

"Sure" you answered squinting your eyes.

"I promise, You can ask Oscar, I've not had sex for months"

"I don't need to know that"

"Yeah you do, I swear I wasn't going to use this with anyone else, I promise"

He was most likely lying, but you decided to believe him, at least for tonight.

"Fine" You said as you took the condom from his hand and opened it as your lips went back to his.

He helped you by pulling down his pants and his boxers enough for his throbbing cock to spring out and slap his stomach.

"Hello Mr. Norris" You said with a cheeky smile

"Don't act so surprised"

"Sorry"

He now took the hem of your dark blue dress and pulled it over your hips, softly caressing the soft flesh of your thighs and ass. He moaned at the feeling of no underwear under it.

"You're naughty"

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me"

"I love it" He said and bit your lower lip as he placed you over his hard cock. You took the condom and without breaking the kiss you rolled it over his dick, enjoying the feeling of the heat and the veins that ran through it.

He couldn't wait any longer and as soon as he felt the condom in place he lifted his hips entering you in one deep thrust making you moan loudly from the incredible feeling of being so full.

"Fuck, Lando" you said as he started thrusting. A slow yet hard pace made your eyes roll to the back of your head, as he held you one hand by the neck the other one caressing your ass.

"Fuck, you're so fucking perfect" He moaned against your tits that were spilling out your dress.

He took one of your nipples in his mouth, pushing you closer to your release.

You had forgotten when was the last time you had sex, but none of your previous experiences could compare to this one. Lando being a manwhore was quite a benefit.

His hips hitting against yours at such a perfect pace was driving you crazy. He could tell by the way you were pulsing around him that you were close. This was probably a record and he was going to savor it.

He brought one of his hands down to your clit and just a couple of circles helped by how wet you were pushed you over the edge, loudly moaning his name in his ear. That sweet sound looped in his brain, making him reach his climax shortly after.

"Fuck" he finally said after you two had reached a decent breathing pace.

"Shit"

"Fourth curse word of the night"

"Shut it" You said as you pushed yourself off his chest and kissed him.

"I'm going to love having you around again"

"Me too"

"Well, Max was right about one thing" A cheeky grin on his face.

"What?"

"You're such a good fuck"

"You're a dick" You slapped his chest as he pulled you back to kiss him.

This was probably going to be a mess, but at least for a couple of months you were unemployed and free to date whoever you wanted, that included F1 drivers who would probably be off limits once your contract started, but that was a problem for your versions of the future.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch,

[pia-nor481]

The Assistant- Chapter One

Lando Norris x Reader

Zak is tired of Lando’s behaviour and hirers him a personal assistant, whom he finds a little too attractive to be working with. What she didn’t know, was how hard he would make the job.

2.4k words

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

This wasn't exactly her dream job, sure she loved being around motorsports, but she would have loved to work with the team, not for one of the drivers. Originally she had applied online, not even sure she would get the job, but now as she was slipping her heels on reality had hit her. Zak Brown, CEO of Mclaren Formula One team had employed her to be an assistant; She assumed she would have been working for him as no other name was mentioned in either of her interviews, but she assumed very wrong. 

"So you'll be working with Lando. Making sure he's where he needs to be and has everything he needs. Pretty much doing whatever he asks." She struggled to keep up with Zak's fast pace with the folders in her hands as he guided her through the MTC. "Your desk is right here and Lando's is right over there." He pointed as he spoke, making sure she had everything she needed before she officially started. Zak walked into Lando's office with a face of disappointment, she didn't know the details and quite frankly didn't want to. With Zak gone she could finally take a breath, placing her belongings on the rather large desk. One small perk about working for Lando and not Mclaren was she could essentially wear whatever she pleased. She sat down and opened the provided laptop, checking what she could only imagine to be the busiest schedule she would ever see. After deciding she would deal with that a little later she looked around the room fully, noticing there was only four other desks in this area, the rest in offices with names printed on the doors. The desk given to her was the largest in the room, with very little on top of it; A phone, calculator, notebook, pens and a file organiser. She looked to the left and noticed next year's racing calendar. She made a mental note to bring some thing from home to brighten up the area, perhaps make it look more humane. 

"Are you serious Zak, another one?" She heard Lando's voice through the open door of his office. "Don't behave like a child. Oscar has an assistant who he gets on well with. But you need one. You're late to almost every meeting if you even turn up and you never have your equipment or uniform. It's unacceptable and so I'm doing something about it. Her pay isn't even coming out of your bank account so be grateful for that." Zak muttered, almost dragging Lando out of the room with a small scowl on his face. "This is Lando." Zak said with a small smile after introducing her. She offered her hand before speaking, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lando." He quickly shook her hand but didn't say anything, waiting for Zak to leave for his office. Now she could see why the pay was so high. He was slightly insufferable and considerably rude. 

Lando turned his back to her as he spoke, "Go get me a coffee would you." He grumbled walking back towards his office. She was shocked at the gumption to start with and then realised that she was being paid significantly more than what the base rate was for scheduling appointments. So really she just didn't feel the need to complain. She walked towards the unnecessarily large kitchen for that floor and looked through the cupboards, only finding instant coffee granules and shaking her head slightly. She knew first hand from working office jobs that instant coffee was one of the worst drinks in the world. She grabbed the largest mug from the shelf and placed two teaspoons of the coffee inside, followed by a pinch of salt as it would take the bitterness away. She poured a small amount of cold water into the mug before adding the hot water most of the way up, so she didn't burn the coffee. Finally she added some milk and gave it a good stir. Pleased with herself she walked back to his office as quick as she could. 

"Here." She almost whispered, placing the mug on his unusually tidy desk, which let her know he was almost never here or he never did any work. She had a sneaking suspicion it was the latter. "Took you long enough." Lando muttered looking up at her as he took a sip of the drink, a look of disgust painting his face. "That's awful. How do you mess up making coffee?" His question was rhetorical but it still hurt. She was sure it was the best one could make with such limited supplies. Or maybe he just didn't like coffee at all and was giving her a hard time. "You only have my work schedule, right?" He looked ack up at her, hands crossed in his lap. "Right?" Lando repeated, annoyance lacing his voice. She knew she shouldn't have been so easily upset, but disrespect being the first thing you hear from someone was always hurtful. "Yes." She whispered, not lifting her gaze from the ground, worried he'd see the look on her face. "Well, here's my personal schedule, sync it up for me." He said waving his hand towards the door. She took the paper from his hand with a small thank you and left to do as she was asked. Soon she was sat at the desk with glossy eyes questioning her decisions. Maybe applying for the job was a mistake, but she needed the money. 

He had a meeting about the new car at 6am tomorrow, a quadrant photoshoot at 10am for the new merch line but the manufacturer needed to be called tonight to ensure the clothes were ready to be mass produced for the release next month, then at 12pm they were filming a karting video that he needed to bring his helmet and quadrant racing suit for, at 4pm he need to pick up dry cleaning for a dinner he had at 7pm. She wasn't sure it was possible for one person to be so busy. She was quick to write down the necessary numbers and times on a post it notes before sticking all seven of them to the black wall above the desk. She wrote a small reminder to ensure Lando was wearing proper Mclaren uniform for the meeting, hoping it would ease Zak slightly. 

Her first call was to the manufacturing company and it lasted over two hours, most of it being arguing about shipping dates and production location. She needed to have the shortest delivery time possible considering the date for the release and it was causing her to panic. Lando didn't seem to have a lot of patience and he also seemed like the kind of man to yell if he wasn't happy with something, so she felt as though she couldn't afford to get this wrong. After another twenty minutes, and two pages of A4 paper later, the merch was set to be shipped to them one week before it was due to be sold. A small sigh escaped her as she took the first post it down. She then began working on 'merging' the two schedules, which she was sure he made it harder by giving her a paper copy, so she had to add things one by one. After a while, all of which was spent adding doctors appointments and training sessions to his calendar, she made way back to the kitchen reaching for another mug, making a coffee for herself just as she did before. She hesitated taking a sip, questioning herself. Was the drink actually that bad or maybe he was just testing her resolve. Quickly she snapped out of the small haze and rushed back to her desk, noticing Lando was no longer in his office.

Her eyes began to sting slightly as she continued to look at the screen, worried she wouldn't get all the work done in time. She made a small note to herself to pick up some eye drops before she went home, not wanting to repeat the feeling tomorrow. As she picked up her phone to set an alarm she noticed the time, 4am. She had been working for way too long, longer than she was required too. But the tasks set needed to be completed, she couldn't let herself fall behind, the money was too good to ever let that happen. While rushing to her car she began to question her actions completely. Why did she think this was even a good job? Running around after people was not her specialty. Yet she continued on. She was a person that liked to be relatively prepared and always kept spare clothes in the car, perhaps not for this occasion, but she was thankful to her past self none the less. She knew there were showers in the building as the drivers and pit crew often had to train in the building, so that wouldn't have been an issue. After making what could be considered a subpar coffee she called Lando on her personal phone, although it required two calls before he surprised her by answering. 

"Who is this?" He groaned down the line. She didn't expect his voice to be so low, then again she most definitely woke him up. "Your assistant, who needs you to wear your team uniform for the 6 am meeting today, which for your information, you need to leave for in about seven minutes." She said sweetly, knowing being yelled at as soon as you wake up isn't particularly pleasant, so the last thing she needed was him coming to work in a bad mood. "Yeah, okay. I'll be there." He said before ending the call. She shouldn't have felt her face warming as he spoke, hearing his morning voice shouldn't be turning her on as much as it was. His poor attitude had fizzled away in the late evening and the early morning, he was of course still mean for ending the call in such away, but his words were not as offensive. 

She expected him to come to work in what he pleased so she hurried to the store room to look for anything even in his size. The door was heavy and the room was dark but she managed to find a papaya shirt and a few pairs of trousers that looked close enough to fitting. She walked  back towards his office, with her signature office coffee in hand and placed everything on his desk, waiting for Lando to grace her with his presence. She retrieved her note book and pen off her desk before sitting in one of his chairs. "Some assistant she is. Telling me I need to be here, yet she's no where to be found." He grumbled, running his hands through his hair. As Lando walked through the threshold of the office he noticed her sat eagerly a small, but clearly fake, smile on her face. "You need to get dressed before we leave, the meeting starts in ten minutes and you have plenty to do today." She stated, brushing off his earlier statement, even if it brought a slight pain to her chest. Lando walked behind the desk and noticed, not just the hot drink awaiting him, but a few printed forms that he needed to sign, all with a small post it explaining in less than ten words what it was for. She walked towards the door and closed it, facing the opposite direction from the desk. "I need to ensure that you actually look presentable, but trust me I'm not looking." She said with a small huff, crossing her arms over her chest. "How do I know you're not actually some crazy fan?" He questioned, pulling his blue shirt over his head, quickly replacing it with the uniform. "My phone is on the desk and if I was some crazy fan I would probably already be in your house considering a I know you're address." She stated like it was the simplest thing in the world. "You can turn around now." Lando said, annoyance once again lacing his voice. "Oh, you're hair is a mess." She walked over to the brit quickly, reaching over to adjust the curls. "What are you doing?" His jaw clenched slightly as her fingers threaded through his hair. "Don't complain, I'm making sure you look presentable. Zak will be grateful considering there are some sponsors in this meeting." 

She pulled away from him and walked away, happy that he followed. "Don't do that again." His tone was almost malicious before they reached the board room, sitting down quietly. Zak quickly began thanking everyone for showing up before he started talking about how this years car would be better than the previous years. As she looked towards Lando, she noticed his head was down, most likely on his phone. A small amount of anger rose up through her. The gall. He works for this company, the words said would be greatly important to him, yet he wasn't even listening. It was disgraceful. She made sure to write down as many notes as possible, at least about what she assumed to be the most important parts since she didn't really know what was being said. The mechanics of formula one cars was not her speciality so it was a little hard to distinguish what was needed and what wasn't. 

"Thank you all for coming, any further questions please email." Zak said with a pleasant smile. She zoned out for a while, focusing on writing down the last few sentences. "Hey, are you even listening to me." Lando raised his voice slightly, shaking her shoulders. "You said I had to be somewhere at ten. So...get up." He almost pulled her out of the chair as she grabbed her things. "You have a photoshoot for the new Quadrant merch. The rest of the product is being delivered one week before sales go live." She almost muttered as he pushed her out of the door. 

"Well you're coming with me."

[moonselune]

Hello! If this request is weird feel free to disregard but could I request something, whatever format you think is best, where Tav has chronic pain/fatigue and they generally hide it pretty well, though they do still lag behind some days- and through some tadpole or magic weirdness someone gets temporarily body swapped with Tav (maybe a tougher member of the group like Lae'zel) and they realize how much harder Tav is working just for basic functioning and masking it. (I love your work, thank you<3)

OOooo this is so interesting!! and thank you so much, that's so sweet! I did this more as a drabble and I hope you like it!

Most days, you keep up.

You’ve learned how to pace yourself, how to push through the pain without letting it show. You lag behind on occasion, but you make up for it in other ways—strategy, quick thinking, keeping morale high when the others start to waver. You may not be as fast or as strong as Lae’zel or Minthara, but you pull your weight. You make sure of it.

That doesn’t stop them from noticing.

“Lae’zel, slow down,” Shadowheart murmurs as the party treks through uneven terrain, but Lae’zel merely scoffs.

“If they cannot keep up, they should train harder,” she replies, glancing back at you over her shoulder. “Strength is something we build, not something we beg for.”

Minthara hums her agreement. “Pain is temporary,” she says. “Weakness is a choice.”

You don’t argue. You could, but what would be the point? They do not understand. They can’t understand. The pain in your joints, the way your muscles ache even when you wake up in the morning, the exhaustion that clings to you even on your best days.

So you grit your teeth. You keep walking. And you pretend their words don’t hurt.

—

The magic mishap happens fast. One moment, you are rifling through a strange arcane tome, and the next, the world shifts and bends in on itself. The feeling is nauseating—like being unspooled and rewoven, like your very bones are rearranging themselves.

And then, just as suddenly, you are staring at yourself. Or rather—Lae’zel is. Because you are now her. There’s a moment of silence as the party stares. Astarion lets out an incredulous laugh.

“Well,” he says. “This should be interesting.”

“Unacceptable!” Lae’zel’s voice rings out, except—no. Your voice rings out, spoken by her, in your body.

She clenches her fists—your fists—and glares down at herself.

“This form is fragile,” she hisses. “We must undo this immediately.”

But magic like this is messy, and Gale is already grimacing as he flips through his notes.

“It might take some time,” he admits. Lae’zel grumbles under her breath.

“Then we train,” she decides. “I will strengthen this form while I am trapped in it.”

But she doesn’t make it five minutes.

The first thing that hits her is the fatigue. Even standing still, she feels the weight of it pressing down on her limbs, making her movements sluggish, her reactions slow. Then comes the ache—a deep, gnawing pain that digs into her joints, curling around her bones like an iron vice.

She tries to push through it. She always pushes through pain.

But no amount of discipline or mental fortitude can prepare her for the constant, grinding discomfort, the sensation of moving through molasses, the frustration of knowing she is strong but not feeling it.

And worse than anything—she remembers. She remembers snapping at you when you lagged behind. She remembers calling you weak.

But this is not weakness. It is not laziness or lack of will. It is a battle, fought every day, in every breath, in every step. She lasts an hour before she stumbles.

Not a dramatic fall—just a simple misstep, her knee nearly buckling beneath her. It is such a small thing. But she suddenly understands exactly how much you have been hiding.

—

By the time Gale figures out how to undo the spell, Lae’zel is seething. Not at you. Not anymore.

She is furious at herself. At her own ignorance.

When the magic finally reverses, and you are settled back into your own body, you turn to face her, unsure of what to expect. For once, Lae’zel is quiet. Her jaw is tense, her posture stiff. And then, slowly, she speaks.

“You are stronger than I gave you credit for.” Her voice is measured, her words precise. “And I was a fool to dismiss you.”

You blink, taken aback. “That almost sounds like an apology.”

She scowls. “Take it or leave it.”

You huff a quiet laugh. It isn’t much. It isn’t even enough. But it is something. And as you continue forward, Lae’zel walking just a little slower beside you, you think—maybe that’s all you need.

a little drabble for y'all, it was so nice to write it, work has been so hectic so this was a nice break. Hope you guys enjoy it! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[trippinsorrows]

10 things + part three

authors note: after 87 years of waiting, here is the third and final part to this mini series. def struggled with writing it, as i haven't been in the headspace for it, hence why it hasn't been updated in so long. hope it was worth the wait and not a disappointment. ❤️

words: 5k

warnings: angst

part one + part two

***gif belongs to @dejameflorecer ***

It’s been a week.

A week since an already tumultuous relationship went from bad to worse in a matter of minutes.

Nova isn’t sure if she’s ever cried as much as she has in the past week. Maybe not since the death of her childhood dog, Sadie, when she was twenty-one. But, this kind of grief is something different. Something heavier and devastating.

Something heartbreaking.

A part of her saw it coming. Nova knew it was only a matter of time before things with RJ and Roman reached a boiling point. The tension and animosity seemed like it grew by the day though something that’s actually existed for years.

The same amount of time she’s worked so hard to fix it. To repair what’s clearly broken. But, it’s always come at a cost. The latest expense, however, is unacceptable. On several fronts.

Roman put his hands on RJ.

He put his hands on their son. Their child. An act that resulted in RJ unintentionally hurting his little sister.

Two of her three children were hurt, in different ways, by their own father.

Nova knows Roman would never ever do anything to intentionally hurt any of their kids, but that doesn’t matter in the face of what’s happened. 

What’s done is done, and she doesn’t know how to move past it.

If that’s even a possibility. 

He’s tried to reach out. Both have. Roman and RJ, but she’s left them both on read for different reasons, only responding with, 'she's fine' with their questions about Bella. Roman hasn’t tried to come home in the past week, and she’s partially grateful, though it breaks her heart just a little when the girls ask about their dad.

When they ask where daddy is.

She has an idea.

Probably staying in the penthouse. 

Or, maybe not.

She struggles between caring and not giving a fuck.

And, her son, via Live 360 shows that he’s been staying with Jey. Unsurprising, to say the least. 

RJ has always been close with the twins, Jey especially. And given how Jey and Roman are on the outs, it only makes sense his estranged son would find escape with an estranged cousin.

Nova has to have an emergency session with her therapist. It’s not life-threatening, and she reiterates there are no safety concerns. She just knows she needs to talk with someone. But, even that conversation is only slightly as helpful as she would like it to be, because Nova omits a lot. Primarily the part where Roman shoved RJ, and Bella got hurt in the process. Things are already bad enough. The last thing Nova needs is DCFS opening an investigation.

She has enough going on in her life.

But, what does come out of that session is a realization. A few, but Nova is taking them one at a time. 

The doorbell ringing pulls her from her thoughts. She takes a deep breath, reminding herself that she can and needs to do this. 

Walking from out the kitchen of her spacious home, she makes her way to the front door, not bothering to look out the peephole.

Opening it, she’s met with the most sheepish expression one could muster.

RJ stands there, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Hey, mama….”

Instantly, her eyes are watering. As upset she might have been, and still is with her son, that’s her baby boy.

Stepping aside, she motions for him to come in. He does so, keeping an almost careful distance between them. Like, he’s being cautious. 

Looking around, he asks, “where—where are the girls?”

An understandable question. RJ is a good big brother, and the girls adore him. Have missed him the same way they miss their dad. But, they don’t need to be around for this.

“With grandma and grandpa,” she answers. Nova leads them over to the living room where she takes a seat on the big sofa. Junior remains standing, nervous almost. She pats the space next to her. “Take a seat.”

He hesitates, but only for a second. Slowly, he lowers his body onto the sofa, legs semi spread, big foot tapping. A nervous thing, clearly. 

Nova doesn't say anything at first, taking time to gather her words. 

“I’m sorry, mama,” RJ blurts, like holding it any long would be too painful. “I didn't—” He closes his eyes, shaking his head. “I would never hurt Bella or you or Cami or—”

“I know, honey,” she answers in a low voice. “It–it was a mistake.” Because, it was. For all her son’s faults and vices, that is most definitely not one of them.

Same for Roman.

But, that’s another conversation.

“Does she—does she hate me?” A quiet, almost fearful question. 

Nova smiles softly, reaching a hand over. “No, Junior. She doesn’t hate you. She could never hate you.” Because while Bella was understandably upset that night, the following morning, she was asking about her big brother and daddy.

Her little girl could never be mad at the men in her life for too long.

Something she clearly gets from her mother.

Another question. “Do you hate me?”

At that, Nova’s eyes widen. She leans over, taking RJ’s hand in her own. “RJ, I could never hate you, baby. I love you. I was….I was upset with you, yes, but I could never hate you.” The truth. The God’s honest truth. “But, I do—I do need to talk to you.” She swallows, jumping straight to it. “Honey, how do you know about your dad cheating on me?”

Because, in all of the things to come out of that terrible night, that has to be the one thing that’s kept her up the most. 

She’d prepared to go to her grave keeping that secret from her children.

Nova sees the way RJ’s expression shifts. Something cold and solemn. “I heard you crying about it that night.” Her stomach drops. “I was coming to ask you for help with my homework, and I saw you. I saw you crying onto Aunt Naomi’s shoulder.” 

RJ may not realize it, but he’s just taken her back. Taken Nova back to one of the hardest periods of her life. All of the emotions rushing and slamming into her with newfound intensity. She had no idea her son overheard and saw that. No idea he’s been sitting silently on such a thing for years.

It’s been years since that rough patch with her husband. 

“He broke your heart, mama.” She looks away, wiping at her tears. She didn’t realize she still felt so many things from that day. “He cheated on you, broke your heart, and you still took him back.” Her eyes shut, his voice desperate as he asks, “why?”

Nova takes a deep breath. This is the single most difficult conversation she’d both dreaded and never imagined having to have, but here she is. 

There is no escaping it now. 

“RJ…” Eyes closing, heart racing, she forces it out. “I cheated on your dad first.” 

His eyes widen, his jaw partially dropped. He’s stunned. “What?”

Nova forces herself to look over at him, momentarily taken back. It’s like she’s looking at her heartbroken husband all over again. 

She sniffles, wiping her eyes, moving into a well deserved explanation. “I was 23. Your dad was on the road wrestling. And, I was here, working a full time job, taking care of you. We were struggling financially, so he had to be gone. He was trying to help provide for us, and I knew that. But….but, I got lonely, and I—I started to resent that he was gone all the time.” A summarized explanation leaving out a lot of details that, even with RJ knowing about the affairs, Nova knows he doesn’t need to know. “He—” This is the part that she’ll forever regret and never be able to forget for as long as she lives. “He walked in on me and the man in bed, flowers and chocolate in hand. He—he’d come home to surprise you and I.” Her voice cracks, the emotion tipping over. “I’ll never forget how devastated he looked.”

Gutted. He was gutted. Furious but more hurt than anything.

“Sweetie.” Nova presses her lips together, shaking her head. “I broke your dad’s heart first.”

It was the reason she first started going to therapy all those years ago. Because Nova struggled deeply with how she betrayed Roman. How she’d allowed temporary emotions to lead her into making what remains one of the biggest regrets of her life.

RJ is stunned into silence, looking down, bewildered and floored. “I—I can’t—”

“You were right, honey. Your father did cheat on me, and he did break my heart.” Nova can’t and won’t deny that. Two truths can be right in the same universe. Roman was wrong, and so was she. But, they worked hard to move past those two major trust and boundary violations. So hard. “But, I chose to forgive him, because I love him, because he found it in his heart to forgive me, because he loves me.” She reaches over, gently stroking the back of his head. “The same way he loves you.”

He says nothing, clearly still struggling between maintaining his wall, and maybe, just maybe, letting it down just enough. 

“Do you….do you remember how I used to record all your games, and—” A small, silly smile breaks on her face as she recalls her scowling little boy blushing almost from embarrassment. “And, you used to always ask me why I did it? Used to tell me it wasn’t that big a deal?”

He nods, still saying nothing, a frown present on his face.

“Baby…” Her head tilts, that smile growing just a smidge. “I did it, because your dad asked me to.” Junior’s eyes widen once more at yet another bombshell being dropped on him. “And the first thing he did when he got home and had time, he’d watch them. Every single game. From start to finish. Take notes, too.”

RJ looks as breathless as he sounds. “What?” 

“I know….” She sniffles, tears cascading down her face. “I know he wasn’t there a lot when you were younger, and I realize now how that impacted you more than I realized, but sweetheart, he would come home as often as he could. Even if it meant us losing out on money, he would come home, RJ. And, he came because he wanted to see you.”

Another whispered confession from the depths of long buried trauma. “He did?”

Nova tilts her head, a small scoff leaving her mouth. “Roman is….he can be difficult at times.” Difficult feels too much of a simplification, prompting her to explain. “He’s stubborn and hardheaded, and he thinks he knows everything sometimes. If not all of the time, and he was wrong to put his hands on you. You can bet I’ll be talking to him about that.”

Because, she will. Because, Nova cannot see how there’s a way to move past that and act like nothing happened. 

Roman took it too far this time.

Way too far.

“But baby, you can also be stubborn and hardheaded. I know….I know you may not want to hear this, but you’re a lot like your dad, and I think that’s also why you two clash the way you do.” Two titans fighting for dominance. Neither willing to break or back down. 

At least, until now.

“I—” He finally speaks, ending his minutes long silence. “I didn’t know….I always felt….he never acted like….” Roman Jr. struggles to verbalize what is clearly years worth of pain and hurt. And, Nova won’t make him.

She knows exactly what he’s trying to say.

“RJ, in all the years I’ve known and been with your dad, I’ve only seen him cry once, and that was the day you were born.” Nova will never forget the silent tears that ran down Roman's face as he held his son for the first time. He was so happy. “Honey…..” She takes a second to find the right words. “Your dad….he’s always struggled with feelings and emotions and showing them, but I need you to believe me when I tell you that he loves you. He always has, and he always will.” RJ looks away, shutting his eyes. A lone tear escaping. “I know things between you two have been rough, and I’m so sorry if you knowing about the affair has played any role in the deterioration of your relationship, but please don’t let that get in the way of things. You need your dad in your life, and believe me or not, he needs you, too.”

They all need each other, but it starts with them.

Father and son.

It started with them, and it needs to end with them.

—--------

Roman was just readying to head out. He was doing his best to respect the space Nova clearly wanted, but being away from his girls was becoming too much. She graciously replied to only one of his many texts, simply sharing that Bella was okay.

Nothing else. 

And, it wasn’t that Roman didn’t understand the distance she was placing between them. He fully did, but it didn’t negate the fact that he missed his family. He misses his family. 

He needs to see them.

He needs to see all his kids and speak to them, but one step at a time.

Keys in hand, Roman opens the door at the same time his entire body stills.

“Junior….”

Sure enough, his oldest stands before him, expression clearly torn. A similar experience to what Roman himself has felt the past week.

RJ swallows, gesturing inside the penthouse. “Are—are you busy?”

Roman takes a second to respond, surprised as all hell by the last person he expected to see. The last person he expected to want to see him.

“No….no….come…come in.”

Roman steps aside, and his son does just as such. Closing and locking the door, Roman watches RJ walk over and sit on the sofa, legs spread, hands clasped together as he stares at the expensive rug. 

For a moment, Roman stands unsure of what to do. Lord knows he has no idea what to fucking say. He was prepared to plead to and with his wife. Not his oldest son.

Not yet, at least.

Nevertheless, he finds himself sitting on the sofa, opposite of RJ, that tension previously felt between them at any given point suddenly melted into something almost unidentifiable. He doesn’t know what exactly it is. Just that it feels different.

Finally, Roman realizes he’s the one that needs to break this. In more ways than one. “Junior—”

“Mama told me what happened.”

Roman frowns, confused and lost. “About?”

He watches RJ swallow. “The affairs.” Roman’s back straightens. He’s most definitely wondered about that part of RJ’s angry outburst all week. Just how he knew. But, that’s suddenly less concerning in the face of what was just said. “How…how she cheated on you first, and you forgave her.”

The older man nods. “I did.”

RJ looks up. “How you cheated on her, and she forgave you.”

Roman swallows. “She did.” An act of grace and mercy Roman will forever be grateful for. Always. “Son….” Roman pauses, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t prepared for this, hadn’t gone over what he wanted to say if and when this moment came. But, sitting across from his firstborn, he’s realizing it’s less about preparation and more about honesty.

He needs to speak from the heart.

It’s time for all this to stop.

“I’m not a perfect man, and I never will be.” Roman does his best to keep his words clear, concise, and to the point. “I’ve hurt you, hurt your mom, hurt my family over the years, and I can’t….I can’t change that. I can’t take back what I’ve done, even though I’d give anything to. You…you have no idea.” He pauses, his own emotions taking a front seat. “I—I always said I would never be anything like my father. He’s a coldhearted bastard who only cares about power, success, and performance. Always told me I needed to be the best and anything less was unacceptable.” Roman runs his hand over his face, revisiting a long ago memory. “The day you were born was both the happiest and scariest fucking day of my life. I—I swore to you that day that I’d always be there for you, that I’d be a good dad to you, and that hasn’t happened.” His eyes shut, glazed over with vulnerability and accountability. “And, I’m sorry, son. I am so fucking sorry.”

RJ looks away, clearly overwhelmed by all of the emotions and unexpected confessions the day has brought. But, it’s time, and he knows it. Time to let go of the hurt, of the pain. It’s time to be honest.

“Mama told me….she told me you were the one who wanted her to record my games. That you…that you watched them.” He shakes his head, finally looking over at his father, also with unshed tears in his eyes. “All these years, I’ve been so upset with you, so angry with you. Because I thought you hurt mom, and I thought you didn’t care. Because….because you weren’t there, and I wanted you to be…to be proud of me.” He swallows, jaw clenching from the heaviness of it all. “I wanted….” His voice breaks. “I wanted my dad to love me.”

Roman’s exterior completely shatters. “Junior….”

Without thinking or even overthinking it, Roman stands and moves to sit next to his son, not wasting a single second to pull him into a hug.

A hug that RJ, for the first time in years, reciprocates.

Roman cradles the back of his head, offering the sort of comfort that his son has wanted for years. The love he’s craved. “Son, I’ve loved you since the day you were born. I’ve always loved you, and I always will.” A vow. A promise. Something that can and will never be broken. Not from this day forward. “And, I am so proud of you.” 

RJ’s eyes clench shut. 

Years.

For years, he’s wanted and craved for so long.

Something he’s had the entire time.

“You’re a fine young man, RJ.” Roman compliments, pulling back, hand gently on the back of his son’s neck. “A better man than I could ever be, and I’m sorry for the role I’ve played in your hurt. I’m gonna do better. By you. By your mom. By your sisters. All of you. I promise.”

Roman has a lot of work to do. He knows this. This one conversation, as heartfelt and vulnerable as it is, can’t undo years of damage and trauma. There’s a long road ahead, but it’s a road he’s willing to travel on.

A journey to healing he’s more than ready to make. 

—-----

Despite the unexpected appearance of his son at his doorstep, and the vulnerable conversation that followed, Roman still found his way back to the house.

He has to.

For a week, he’s suffered, as deserved, reliving the incident in his head like a bad song on repeat. He fucked up. A line was crossed that had never been crossed, and while he can’t blame Nova for icing him out, the truth remains that that’s still his wife. Those are his daughters. His son. 

His family.

He has to make things right. 

Or, at least, try. 

He’s certain Nova looked through the peephole before answering, because her usual greeting of “who is it?” is bypassed and traded with the door being swung open. And, there she stands, looking just as beautiful as she always has. 

But, there’s a sadness about her eyes that makes him frown. A sadness because of him.

Nova eyes him up and down. “You talked to RJ?” It’s not a question, not with the almost declaratory nature of her tone. Still, he feels obligated to at least reply.

“Yeah,” he answers.

She continues to look at him before closing the door behind her and walking over to the wooden bench on their porch. He’s prepared to remain standing when she pats the space next to her. 

He obliges.

She’s quiet, Roman able to tell she’s deep in thought, hence him not saying anything. Just giving her the space to think and speak, when ready.

“Roman, what happened….what happened was not okay.” She starts off, hands planted on her thighs. Nova looks at him. “You lost your temper, but not even that, you lost your temper with our son, and Bella got hurt in the process.”

He closes his eyes. She’s not saying anything he doesn’t already know. Nothing he hasn’t mentally berated himself over for the past week. As he deserves. But, there’s something about hearing her say it aloud, the devastation in her voice, that makes it that much worse. It twists the knife.

“I know,” is all he can say. He won’t make excuses. There are none to make.

“You’ve had an anger problem since we were kids, Roman. But, it’s never….” She trails off, looking away and taking a deep breath. “You need help.”

“You’re right,” he swallows. She’s always been right. He’s just been too stubborn and headstrong to see and/or acknowledge it. “I should have never put my hands on him. It should have never reached that point, but it did, and I’m so sorry, Nova. What happened was fucked up and not okay.” She glances over at him, Roman having to fight back the urge to wipe away her tears. “I haven’t been the husband you deserve or the father I need to be for our kids, and I’ve realized the only way that can change is if I get the help I need.”

All truthful, painful, almost embarrassing confession from a man who’s gradually come to realize the extent and depth of damage he’s done. Somewhere along the way, Roman lost himself. Lost sight of what was most important, and it’s caused him to land exactly where he is.

Practically begging for another chance.

“RJ….RJ told me….told me that you two talked,” she finally speaks after a good minute. “He—he said that you’re going to try to work on your relationship. That….that you asked him to think about doing family therapy with you.”

Roman nods. “I did.”

She casts him a leveled look. “Did you mean it though?”

An easy answer, probably the easiest he’s given all day. “Yes.”

Roman doesn’t necessarily like the idea of therapy. He’s done it before, but still. Feelings and emotions, and talking about them, have never been the easiest for him. But, what he wants more than anything is to repair his relationship with the people he loves the most, and if this is the way to do that, then he’ll do it ten times over.

“And what about individual therapy?” She’s probing, prying to see where his headspace is and how far he’s willing to go to right all his many wrongs.

“That too,” he agrees. “Whatever….whatever I have to do, Nova. I’ll do. I love you. I love our kids, and I love our family. I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this, and I know it starts with me. Nova….” He reaches for her hand, her emotional gaze on him. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness, baby. I know I have to earn that. I have a lot to earn back….” He trails off but never breaks their eye contact. “I’m just asking for another chance.”

Nova doesn’t answer right away, and he doesn’t expect her to. He knows that sometimes she has to sit and think on things. That the gravity of the situation may require additional time. And, he’ll give her that. He’ll give her all the space she needs, because he owes her that much and so much more.

“The girls have missed you.”

But, have you?

Roman has to stop himself from actually asking her. 

“I’ve missed them, too.” 

I’ve missed you.

Nova takes a deep breath. “I think we should go to marriage counseling again.”

Yet another thing they’re on the same page with. They attended two times prior, both times to process and work through the affairs. Roman found it helpful then. He’s sure he’ll find it helpful now.

“I agree.”

She nods, looking at their conjoined hands, the sun peaking past and under the gable roof reflecting off her wedding ring and his wedding band. “I—I want your focus to primarily be on RJ. That has to be worked on, Roman, if this is going to work.”

“I know.” More agreement of a truth he can’t deny anymore. “I’m gonna make it right, Nova.”

She stares at him, looks at him in a way no one else but she can. Like, she can read him better than he can read himself. “You can come back home.” Roman closes his eyes, a massive wave of relief and joy coming over him. “But, I swear to God, Roman, if you ever put your hands on my son again, this marriage is over. I will divorce your ass so fast, and not only will I get sole custody of the girls, any visits you have with them will be supervised only.” She finishes her firm, assertive declaration with a pointed look. “Do you understand me?”

The thought of such a situation guts Roman. He would never hurt his daughters. Ever. Will forever regret shoving his son. And, he knows good and well as much as Nova might love him, she’s a mother first. Their kids will always be her first priority, as they should be. He respects that. Immensely.

“I understand,” he acknowledges. Roman runs his thumb over her knuckles. “Thank you.”

Nova doesn’t say anything. She just motions to the door. “The girls are in there with Junior.”

Her answer surprises him. He wondered who was watching their daughters while they spoke, but he assumed her parents were over. “Yeah?”

She nods, standing up. She offers her hand, prompting him to stand as well. “Come on.” 

Roman wordlessly follows her inside of their home, gently squeezing her hand as she calls out, “girls! Daddy’s home!”

The sound of his girls giggling and making sounds of excitement is accompanied by her squeezing his hand back.

A start.

It’s a start.

—---------

The Raw premiere on Netflix is major.

A groundbreaking, memorable occasion worthy of all the lights, glamour, and action. It’s a make or break night for Roman, the night where it’s decided, once and for all, who the real Tribal Chief is.

Nova and her girls are in attendance. A night so big that she can’t afford to miss it, won’t allow it to pass without her showing up to support her husband. 

In the months since the blowup, a lot has occurred. Nova’s ultimatum of sorts with her husband proved effective. He found a therapist and has been attending weekly consistently. They’re also in couples counseling. Not to mention, he and RJ have also been attending weekly therapy together, though virtual, what with Junior away at school and Roman’s schedule being hectic.

There have been some really great times and some tense times, but overall, Nova can see it. Can feel it. Can feel the healing that’s occurring. There are still a ways to go, especially between her son and husband, but they’re not where they were, and that’s all that matters. 

They’re moving in the right direction. 

Finally.

It’s a tense, violent match. 

Nova is on the edge of her seat the entire time, a bit unsurprised and grateful that her daughters are tuned in mostly to their tablets instead of their daddy fighting. Too many times where Solo is close to pinning Roman for her liking, but the whole thing has just been too close for her liking. Matches always make her nervous, and the absence of her son doesn’t help.

Roman invited RJ, as did Nova, but he never gave a solid answer.

It definitely hurt, both herself and her husband, but she could understand why.

There’s still a lot of grounds for those two to cover, and RJ’s speed at which he progresses on this new path is something that can’t be rushed.

She won’t pressure him.

He has to do this at his own pace.

Though, she can’t deny the bittersweet sensation that fills her when Roman makes the pin, when that 3 is finally achieved, signifying that her husband is the one and only Tribal Chief. The true Head of the Table. The OTC.

As proud as she is of him, of the long, hard battles he’s faced to get this point, not being able to share the moment with their firstborn is rough.

But, she braves a smile and blows a kiss to him, holding Cami, pointing to Roman who continues to take in the thunderous applause. Bella stands on the chair next to her, holding onto her dress while also pointing a finger in the air, matching the other attendees.

It dims her sadness just a bit.

However, it’s when the sounds of the crowd shift, and she turns her focus to the ramp that her stomach drops.

She sees Dwayne, Roman's cousin, but she also sees someone else.

She sees RJ.

“The Rock is heading down the ramp, and he’s accompanied by Roman Reigns’ son, RJ Reigns!” She can briefly overhear the commentary, sees the gasp and shock of the crowd. But, it’s the two of them moving into the ring as well as Roman’s unsure expression that has her focus. 

Dwayne is the first to hug and embrace Roman, mouthing something in his ear. Nova watches with continued confusion as the hug breaks, and he moves to take the sacred ula fala from Paul. Roman’s shoulders move up and down, as he pants, still trying to fully catch his breath, lingering exhaustion from the match. But both herself and Roman still watching Dwayne's next move.

He hands the ula fala to RJ.

Nova gasps. “Oh my God...”

Tears spill over as RJ walks over to his dad, offering a warm, proud smile. He nods, and Roman’s head dips just enough so RJ can place it on him. Right before her son pulls his father into a hug. 

Her heart just about combusts in that moment.

It swells and nears explosion, watching the two men in her life embrace, both their eyes shut from the emotionality of it all. The crowd around them applauds, completely unaware just what this moment means to them. 

To her family.

And, Nova sees it. Sees the way RJ’s mouth moves, saying something to Roman.

“I love you, dad.”

She doesn’t need to see Roman to know and hear exactly what he says in response.

“I love you, too, son.”

RJ claps his dad on the back, breaking the hug to stand beside him, raising Roman’s arm. Ones in the sky amongst the thousands in attendance that chant OTC. A proud, emotional expression on Nova’s face as she cries, overwhelmed with happiness and relief.

For the crowd, the OTC is back on top. 

For her, for her family, the healing is just beginning.

[jeizet]

Ichihime Week Day 5: Movie Stars

You thought I was over with Ori Poppins?!?! NEVER SHE IS TOO PERFECT

So she was casted as Mary Poppins in the newest movie! and is taking care of 3 siblings!

This is an AU because while drawing this my brain was on fire let me ramble:

So.

Newest Mary Poppins movie and Orihime Inoue and the Kurosaki siblings have been casted for the main roles!

This is also Yuzu's and Karin first movie, in the case of Karin also maybe the last since she is really not interesting in being an actress but thought making a movie would be a fun experience to have at least once.

Because this is his yourger siblings debut, Ichigo has been extra protective over them, but thankfully the actress casted as Mary Poppins suits the rol even without acting. Everytime the siblings stumble on their words or forget the lines Orihime is there to save the moment winning Ichigo over.

His sisters love her, when they are acting it's so much fun and when they are not Orihime gives fantastic advice since she was also a child star.

He gets why his sisters love her while acting (he is also one of the children Mary Poppins takes care of, and is actually the most problematic one since he is close to being an adult in the story) he experiences that acting with Inoue is dynamic, fun, and easy. In the easier scenes there would be a lot of takes because Inoue would be making faces when the camera is not looking at her which makes him break character, and hard and emotional scenes are mostly in one smooth take.

Conversing with Inoue he discovers that she is the type of actor that is just unaware of the risks of being a public figure, has no bodyguards and goes home by bus, which is absolutely unacceptable for his protective ass. Upon discovering this he drives her home and if she wants to go somewhere he meets her there, which is a surprise for everyone because young actor Ichigo Kurosaki does NOT go out, NEVER.

Fans and media are crazy for #ichihime, she is radiant and funny which makes the fans of Ichigo love her since they now have so many paparazzi photos of him laughing as smiling. And accidentally, Ichigo is becoming the biggest greenflag because people take photos of him being a gentleman... which is just his personality. Photos of him moving Inoue's hair out of the food, recordings of him remembering Inoue's order from the local coffee shop owned by a very nice old lady. Or his cuter side like how he adds insane amounts of sugar to his coffee because "adults drink coffee", but ever since Inoue ordered him a chocolate milk he has never asked for coffee again (when he is with her, he has to keep the cool persona for everyone else even though is already crumbling)

Nothing new is really learn from the actress Orihime Inoue because she has always been very open, but she is noticeably more relaxed now that she has a pseudo-bodyguard around.

Note: they are like 17, teen actors idea, Ichigo has a motorcycle.

[thebunis-steamed]

life is being a pain right now so I'm going to redirect my frustrations into complaining about the appletv murderbot show

spoilers ahead

my biggest gripe is that gurathin has been transformed into a pillow sniffing creep. hands down this represents everything wrong with the adaptation - the way it has worn down the anti-corporate message and the radical idea of a future that preservation aux represents

i get it, ok? i have my own blorbos that are scummy and flawed. but the whole point of presaux is that they are a radical vision of our future (care for its people, compassion as culture, resource sharing, universal care provided by leadership, etc.) that is successful! the story isn't about them fighting to establish that success! they've succeeded, and the reason the presaux team is kind of naive in book one is because some of them have never known anything different. they've had the privilege to be soft. all systems red is their first exposure to the corporation rim. pillow-sniffing gurathin is such an affront because gurathin the ex-corporate left for something better and he found that better thing! he doesn't want to be part of toxic corporate society! and though he can be an asshole and is very suspicious and, yes, assumes the worst of murderbot -- he is at his heart good! he lives the presaux ideals because he chose them and he can now afford to do so. and you know what would be unacceptable on presaux? SNEAKING INTO SOMEONE'S ROOM WHILE THEY ARE OUT AND SNIFFING THEIR PILLOW. uuuuuu i'm so riled up. book gurathin would hate appletv gurathin!

the tv show seems to think minor violations are funny like the pillow sniffing, and mensah standing there and talking to murderbot while it's naked and being repaired, and leebeebee forcing an awkward kiss on murderbot's chin. the amount of people who have found that last one funny!! hey did you know that despite being enslaved and forced to live a life of violence and constant violations of agency and self, the books don't contain a scene of sexual/romantic violence against murderbot? did you know this was the one area that murderbot was not depicted as being violated in? (an argument can be made for murderbot being forced to monitor clients in intimate moments as a form of sexual violation against it but at least that is not a violation enacted on its physical body) but haha, it's soooo funny to see it frozen with an uncomfortable expression on its face, right?

on that note, it felt regressive to introduce a messy throuple subplot when polycules are just a normal fact of life in the books, not just in the hippie dippy presaux crew but throughout corporation rim.

i also have a minor gripe with the scene where presaux picks murderbot because it's the cheapest option. i just feel like this is another small way to undermine the concept of a successful radical society. presaux has money! their objection to a secunit was ethical not monetary! they could afford the bond on mensah!

anyway apple's agenda is to tell us that humans suck, it's not the fault of corporations and capitalism, and people who believe in more are naive hypocritical hippies who are just as violating as everyone else. that's what we get when a major corporation adapts anti-corporate media!

(there are aspects of the adaptation I have been enjoying but this is not the post for that)

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Spinoff: Elysian

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Here we go <3

Masterlist, Part I of __

"Oh my God," someone from his right gasped loudly. "God really has favorites!"

Kim Seokjin blinked owlishly as he patiently waited for the elevator door to open. It was too early in the morning for someone to be this loud, or for someone to have this amount of energy. In fact, he thought it was peculiar. Despite him being the most handsome and perfect man on this whole planet with a godlike body proportion, clear skin, the most expressive eyes, and despite him being the genius that he was, and well, despite him being flawless in everything that he did, he could not for the life of him be that energetic when it was six in the morning. For heaven's sake, he still hadn't gotten his coffee.

Jin simply did not have the energy to deal with this person.

"Good thing you're a doctor!"

Jin took the deepest breath known to man, before breaking his intense and angry eye contact with the elevator. He noted that he would have the whole system replaced by Jungkook's company. The time was just unacceptable, he thought. Besides, he hadn't gotten enough beauty sleep last night because he stayed up late patching up the man Taehyung was torturing and the asshole called him at a godforsaken hour just because he didn't want the fun (also known as Tae’s torture) to end just yet.

What a psycho, he thought.

Well, they all were, he surmised. They just hid the madness in order to blend well with the society. He meant, who would even think that the beloved and heavily awarded actor was a high-functioning psychotic shit? Kim Taehyung was just that- a master manipulator when it came to emotions. They all had their own talents, though.

"I'm sorry?" he asked in the voice he used to communicate with his difficult patients. When he turned, he could have sworn you were really a patient if not for the white robe and identification card that you were wearing. He thought you looked like someone who escaped from the ward with the way your hair was haphazardly and carelessly tied in a bun, the bags under your eyes looked heavy that he almost recoiled. It was as though you and a peaceful night of sleep were strangers

He read your name and the department that you were working in.

Department of Psychiatry.

"How can I help, Doctor Y/N? Do you need medical assistance of any sorts?"

Your smile got even wider, and he was almost certain you were losing it. However, to you, you were just elated to hear your name passed his plump lips. Ah, you thought, you really loved working here. You were on the verge of transferring to the hospital your professor owned in the province. He had been attempting to pry you from this hospital, and you were ready to say yes. In fact, you already filed your resignation.

How could you say no to a seventy-percent increase? To a greener grass? To being able to afford to pay loans your family unfortunately passed onto you and buy your basic necessities?

Well, this face would do it.

"Yes. I feel a shortness of breath and you're to blame. You just took my breath away..." you explained, the smile still present on your face. The elevator dinged open, and you waved at the frozen medical director, the highest position in this hospital, with a glee. You entered the glass box, waiting for him to get in. "The medical director will hear about this!" you playfully scolded him

Alas, it looked like you broke him today.

He was still looking at the spot you had just vacated as though his mind circuited. On the other hand, you were on your way to take back your resignation. You just found your reason to stay. You were waving at the man blushing profusely enthusiastically as the door was closing, and yet he remained there.

Ah, what a good morning indeed, you thought.

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand and for the first time in his whole life, was taken aback by the reckoning force that you were.

That day marked your entrance into his life, whether he wanted you to be in it or not. And well, that day unknowingly sealed your fate. You couldn’t leave his life, whether you wanted to or not.

You became a somehow...permanent fixture in his life.

“Tadaa!”

Kim Seokjin jumped when he heard your voice for the first time today. He didn’t even have to turn to know it was you- you made sure that your voice alone was etched in his genius brain. He was always on guard when you were near, and fuck, even if you weren’t. It was like he had an internal alarm when you were near that kept screaming that there was a foreign substance near him, rendering him a different man. One that was not confident, one that always seemed to blush when you were near and he loathed it!

He was perfect and he was used to being in control with his emotions! What was this atrocity! How was a person such as you managed to disable his flight-or-fight instinct?

Jin blinked owlishly at the steaming cup of coffee you were eagerly presenting to him. It was his from his most favored coffee shop, he noted. It was off the way to the hospital.

And it was still hot.

It was six in the morning.

What time did you wake up for this?

“I know you must be tired from that six-hour surgery,” you noted lightly, smiling up at him. He looked good in scrubs and you couldn’t help the heat rushing through your cheeks when he met your eyes. “I thought you needed coffee. I asked your staff and they said this is your favorite.”

See, every time you talked, his brain just circuited and he didn’t know why. Although he possessed extraordinary genius, he still couldn’t find the reason why. He was not a bubbling mess. No! He was the image of perfection!

“I don’t…drink coffee.”

Idiot, he thought. Why did he say that?! You saw him several times with a coffee in his hand. Your elated expression fell immediately, the glint in your eyes fading. He was beating himself inside when the door opened behind him, his colleague, Doctor Seong-Min walking out and he immediately saw you.

“Oh! My favorite doctor!” he greeted you as almost everyone in the hospital knew of you because of your extrovert personality and high energy.

“Good morning, Doctor Seong-Min,” you greeted politely, though the tone of your voice was definitely knocked down. “You were in the surgery with Doctor Jin, right?”

He nodded before slapping Jin’s back once, “This man right here saved the patient twice. He definitely didn’t give up on-“

“Do you like coffee?” you cut him off, your exhaustion from your shift plus the trip you took to buy him coffee was now taking a toll on you and you wanted nothing but to sleep on your own bed.

“Yes?”

“For you! Have a good day, doctors!” you waved at them before walking away. Ahh, your mind was filled with thoughts of food and sleep. Finally, your day off!

Kim Seokjin’s mind, on the other hand, was filled with panic that he hurt your feelings and also anger to the doctor that was now about to sip the coffee.

“Give me that!” he hissed, pulling the coffee away from the equally exhausted colleague of his.

“What?! No! I need coffee!”

“This is mine!”

“She gave this to me-“

“No. Mine,” he announced as he successfully wrestled the coffee away from the confused doctor. “Okay, goodbye.”

[storm-angel989]

Hi, I hope you're having a good weekend. I was wondering if I could request a valentino One-shot where he finds out his daughter has been self harming and is depressed and how he and the other vees react? Thanks

Oh boy, has this one dredged up memories. 

For anyone who is going through this- I’ve been there. I promise you, it gets better. <3 My DM’s are open for anyone who ever needs to chat. Even if it feels like no one else in the world cares, I PROMISE I do. 

<3 Mandy 

Vox noticed it first. 

His niece, once bright and cheerful, seemingly overnight became sullen and withdrawn. Her usual routine of homework with him had changed somewhere. He couldn’t remember when she started slipping past him to do the homework in the quietness of the room. But always busy with his company, he chalked it up to being midyear and post break and didn’t press too much into it. 

He wished he had. 

Velvette saw it too. 

The change of clothing was her first clue that something wasn’t right. Her uniform shirts came in two styles- short and long sleeved. Skirts required. When reader sent the shirts down to be cleaned, Velvette noticed a hole in several. Unacceptable- no child in her life would dress like that. 

As she sat down at her computer to order a new set, she realized that she hadn’t seen a short sleeved shirt come down in awhile.  Unusual for the weather, but maybe reader was feeling a bit insecure about herself. She made a mental note to talk to her about it and pressed the order button before jumping back into her world of fashion. 

A pained expression crossed her face. She should have made that discussion a priority. 

Valentino watched his little girl start to fall apart at the start of her freshman year. He chalked it up to hormones and tried not to take her attitude shift too personally. After all, she was growing up. She had to know that she could come to them with any issues, right? He cursed himself for not paying closer attention, not talking to the others when he first noticed the change. 

Maybe then he wouldn’t be sitting next to his daughter, her head in Vox’s lap as he carefully worked to stitch her wrist closed. She was lucky, really, that Vox had pounded on her door when he did, even luckier that Vox didn’t value privacy over security. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she sobbed. “I didn’t mean to go that far!” 

He didn’t answer, his full attention concentrated on the movement of his fingers as they pulled together the well scarred skin. 

“Shussh, it's going to be alright,” Velvette said quietly as she stroked reader’s hair. “Let your Daddy patch you up, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.” 

Valentino swallowed as his mind flittered to the camera images. He hadn’t seen the rest of her upper body in person yet, but the image of his daughter sitting with her shirt off, cross legged on the bathroom floor, a bottle of witch hazel and cotton balls next to her- as if she had done this a thousand times before. The razor blade in her hand as she pressed it deep into her shoulder- once, twice, three times, before she moved to her wrist. Her lack of tears scared him as much as the amount of blood did. 

It was an endorphin rush. He understood it. Self harm, cutting, was a way to take away the pain. It was a distraction, a form of natural high. No different than the millions of souls addicted to what he sold. Not that it made cutting an acceptable coping mechanism, but he could at least, somehow, see the biology behind it. 

“Please don’t make me go downstairs,” she begged. “Please don’t lock me up, Daddy, Uncle Vox Auntie…”

“No one is locking you up sweetheart,” Vox said soothingly as Valentino began to wrap her wrist. 

Valentino swallowed. Could they afford to send her to a mental health facility? Sure. Was it the worst thing in the world? No. But he wasn’t willing to do that, not quite yet. Not unless a professional told him she was a suicide risk. Not unless a professional told him that is what she needed to fight this. 

“Daddy, do you hate me?” She sobbed.

His heart broke. Carefully, he pulled reader into his arms and cradled her to his chest. He pressed the palm of his hand to her ear as he held her there, safe in his hold. 

“No. I don’t. I love you, ninita.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “You are my entire world.”

“Please don’t lock me up,” she repeated as she sobbed into him. 

He gently rubbed her back and looked at Velvette. Her eye caught his and she nodded, her fingers flying across the keyboard. He felt sick to his stomach as he held his child. He cursed himself again for not taking family history into account back when he first noticed the change in her. 

He knew depression ran in their family- hell, her mother had fought it all through her pregnancy on Earth before ultimately dying in childbirth. And Valentino wasn’t exactly free from the disease himself. And at the end of the day, depression was a disease. No different than a broken ankle or sprained wrist, and needed to be treated as such. There was no shame in it. There was no shame in any mental illness. He took a deep breath as he prepared to say his next words. 

“No one is going to lock you up, but this is what’s going to happen next,” he said softly. “Now that Daddy has stopped the bleeding, we’re going to go downstairs. All four of us. A doctor will be waiting there to talk to you. That’s all they’re going to do, talk. Do you understand?”

“I don’t need to talk to someone,” she began to sob again. “I don’t, I…It was an accident. Please don’t send me away.” 

The words Valentino wanted to speak caught in the back of his throat. Every part of him wanted to wrap up his daughter and hold onto her tight, to protect her from everything that caused her this pain. He looked to Vox and Vox leaned over. 

“We know sweetie, and we believe you,” he said soothingly. “We won’t let anyone take you away from us, okay? But you don’t have to suffer all this pain. The doctor will help with that, we promise. But this isn’t a negotiation.” 

“And even if the doctor does say you need to be hospitalized, it isn’t the worst thing in the world. It isn’t as scary as it sounds, I promise. I’ve been there,” Velvette added quietly. “Val, she’s waiting. Downstairs. Whenever we’re ready.”

“Val? I can carry her,” Vox said quietly as he knelt down next to them. “If you want.” 

“No, I got her,” Valentino replied as he swept her up in his arms. To his immense relief, she didn’t fight. “It gets better, mi amore,” he said softly as the four of them made their way to the elevator. “I promise. And you are never, ever going to fight this alone again. We love you. I love you.” He swallowed. “Even if you’re scared, know that I love you. And that this life doesn’t have to be riddled with overwhelming sadness and pain. I promise. I promise you it gets better.”

[atopfourthwall]

Hey Linkara, I just want to thank you for all the content over the years! I found HOPR around the time I was 8 or 9 and from AT4W I became a big fan of comics too. Your content has been a souce of entertainment most of my life, so thank you!!! I also want to ask- Have you thought about doing any more retrospective series like the Blue Beetle and Cassandra Cain ones? Personally I'd love to see one on the Justice Society!! I know AT4W episodes take lots of planning, but your longer videos have always been my favorites.

Thanks for all the kind words! There are certainly more retrospectives that will come down the line, but the problem I've realized after the last several - particularly the Sandman and Transformers ones - is that they are LONG. Longer episodes are one of the big issues screwing up a good chunk of the schedule the last few years. Between Patreon requests for longer stuff, Event Comics Month, retrospectives, and just me choosing something that will end up being longer, it takes a lot more work and a lot more time to produce, so the schedule ends up getting screwed over. We've already seen it this year, in fact - the Top 15 Covers I Didn't Cover list was 53 minutes long, so despite the rest of the episodes that have been put out being normal or lower length, we're still playing catch up because of that SINGLE episode's longer length pushing everything back. As a result, a lot of episodes that I schedule end up being pushed back or cancelled entirely since I NEED to prioritize the Patreon-sponsored episodes since people paid for them. That'll be even more important this year since I ended up selling a bunch of extra slots last December because of financial issues. So yeah, I ended up scrapping the retrospective I had originally intended to do this year since it would have been long, a VERY niche subject (I had assumed the Sandman retrospective, covering a very popular series, would do gangbusters, but views were actually mid for it), and put things at risk for my channel because it was a manga and manga companies have proven to not play as nice as American comics companies. I intend for them to return, but I want things to stabilize first - especially since as I noted in the aforementioned Top 15 video that last year I ended up producing the lowest amount of episodes in the history of the show. And that's unacceptable to me. Sorry for such a lengthy response, but I always prefer to be transparent about this stuff and the reasons why things are happening the way they are. Regardless, thanks again for watching! A Justice Society retrospective is DEFINITELY in the cards in the future (sorry Marvel fans but we're pretty much out of Marvel characters/series that were important to me in my development as a comics fan aside from TV shows and I'd like the retrospectives to mostly stick to comics).

[sabersandsnipers]

The King of Caregiving

You are a skilled warrior. Some have even called you the commander of death. Enemies tremble when they hear your name. You have always managed to maintain an image of strength, and focus. 

But all that goes to shit when alcohol gets involved. You turn into a mushy, bubbly mess. It’s only happened a handful of times. Getting drunk means letting your guard down, and that’s unacceptable to you. 

But the ale at the tavern was too good to turn down. You can’t remember the last time you had a drink that tasted this good. The warmth creeping through you is a welcome feeling after the events of the last few weeks. 

The only development as of late that doesn’t fill you with frustration and hate is thanks to Halsin. You’ve been able to draw closer to him, which is something you’ve been craving to do for a while. But the differences in your personalities led you to believe he wouldn’t be interested. He emits pure warmth and light. His words are filled with kindness and despite his skill in battle, he has a gentle hand. 

You on the other hand…a different story entirely. People tend to keep their distance from you. Even your companions give you a healthy amount of space on a bad day. It’s not like you’re trying to be mean, sometimes you just can’t stop yourself from blurting out your cranky thoughts. 

And somehow, you managed to catch Halsin’s eye despite your angry tendencies. Maybe it was because he was the only one that managed to calm you, to keep your anxieties and anger at bay. The two of you just clicked. You complimented each other in a way you had never experienced before. You never allowed yourself to slow down long enough to cultivate a relationship. 

But it was good. Whatever you had with Halsin right now had you smiling like some idiotic bard. A small part of you was infuriated with yourself for falling so quickly, but Halsin’s attention overpowered any of these negative thoughts. 

And it’s the thought of Halsin’s attention that has you giggling as you and Karlach stumble back to camp. Your limbs feel like jelly and your brain feels like it could slide right out of your ears. All of your heightened senses have been numbed, and for once, you’re enjoying it. 

Giving Karlach a sloppy hug and slurring a goodnight, you begin stumbling toward your tent. But a tug in your mind stops you. You slowly turn your gaze to Halsin’s tent, evil thoughts beginning to breed in your inebriated mind. You let out another giggle as you move to Halsin’s tent, trying to be quiet but failing epically. 

You attempt to move the flaps leading into the tent, but instead trip over your own feet and fall directly through the entrance. A fit of laughter rips through you. Your abdomen cramps at the sheer force of your laugh.

“Tav?” 

Your laughs die down a bit as you sit yourself up, your eyes moving to a very confused Halsin laying in his bed roll. You admire his bare chest, the chiseled muscles making your mouth water. You crawl your way over to him and straddle his lap. 

A small smile grows on his lips. “It seems like you had a good time with Karlach,” he notes, taking in your disheveled state. 

You hiccup. “Mhm.” You take in every feature of his face, from the scars reaching into his hairline to the shape of his lips. Gods, this man is beautiful. 

Leaning down, you softly press your lips to his. His chest feels so strong under your touch. You wait for the feeling of his hands on you, but it never comes. 

He chuckles against your lips as your hands begin to slide down his abdomen. “Eager are we?” 

“I need you,” you tell him, breaking the kiss so you can take in his expression. Usually his eyes are filled with desire, but instead you’re met with their usually calming warmth.

He smoothes your hair back with his hands, and then gently holds your face. “You should rest, little one.” 

You whine, grasping onto his forearms. “I don’t want to!”

He laughs, and a twinge of annoyance flickers in you. “Don’t laugh at me!” you insist. “Is not funny!” Your words begin to slur more. 

He smothers his laugh, but still grins. One of his thumbs traces along your cheekbone. “We can do this another time, hm? When we both can truly enjoy every sensation.” 

You want to argue with him, but you can’t deny the increasing weight of your eyelids. He notices the way you sway in his lap, fatigue beginning to overtake you. He lifts you up a bit and helps you into his bedroll. His body is so warm and inviting that you barely register your head hitting the pillow before you’re asleep. 

When you wake, your eyes scrunch up at the pounding in your skull. Your stomach rolls at the sensation, and you clamp your teeth shut as the first wave of nausea passes. A groan builds from deep within you. Your head feels as if it’s been kicked by a horse. 

You attempt to sit up, ignoring the building pain. You take in your surroundings. There are carvings of ducks in various stages of completion. There’s a glass jar of honey that sits on a table. 

Halsin’s tent. The memories of last night wash over you. You cringe at your actions. Covering your face with your hands, you groan in complete and utter humiliation. 

The moment only gets worse when Halsin walks in, looking as gorgeous as ever. You can feel heat flushing your cheeks as he walks over to you, two steaming mugs in his hands. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks, handing a mug to you. His voice is soft. 

You avoid his gaze. “Like death.”

A light chuckle leaves his lips as he sits next to you on the bedroll. “Legend has it that you consider death a friend.” 

Steam rises steadily from the mug in your hands. “Well none of this feels particularly friendly.” You sniff at the liquid. 

“That should help with the pain,” he tells you. 

You finally look at him, gratitude surging through you. Your cheeks still feel flushed under his gaze. Bringing the mug to your lips, you take a tentative sip. 

Hints of lemon and honey hit your tongue. You sigh at the taste, savoring the sensation of the warm liquid sliding down to your belly. 

The pounding in your skull already seems to be lightening. The rolling of your stomach ceases. You glance at Halsin, a mixture of both anxiety and thankfulness rumbling in you. 

“Thank you, Halsin,” you tell him. You shrink in on yourself under his gaze. What a brave warrior you are, feeling small because of a Druid. 

You force yourself to keep speaking. “And I’m sorry about last night. I can’t believe I acted like that.” An uncomfortable heat begins to creep through your bones as you keep going. “You wanted a strong, focused woman and instead you got a messy drunk last night.”

Sunlight peeks in through the flaps of the tent and dances along his hair, brightening it. You wait for his reaction, unsure of what he’s thinking.

Then he reaches out to you and gently grasps your hand. His eyes seem to be alight with flame. "I didn't want you because of your reputation. Not because of the legends I heard of your victories or the tales of your strength." He pauses a moment as his thumb traces along your knuckles. "I want you for the woman I see within. The woman who cares passionately for her companions, and would die for them without hesitation."

He moves a bit closer to you, and your hand brushes his knee. "I want you for the selfless and loving woman I've come to know. Not for the legend I've heard of for years."

Your heart pounds at his words. Every inch of your skin seems to tingle as he looks at you. It's almost uncomfortable, this feeling of vulnerability, if it weren't for Halsin's ability to make you feel safe.

You clear your throat. "Well I'm glad I didn't scare you away then."

He laughs. The sound of it makes your very soul feels as if it's blooming into something brighter. "It's going to take a lot more to scare me off. In fact, I think I like feeling a bit intimidated by you."

He's so close to you now. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. His hand still grasps yours, and you savor the way his calloused palms feel against your skin.

"Will you lay with me?" you ask him. His face brightens at your request.

"Always."

He slides in next to you, pulling you into his chest. He smells of the woods after a heavy rainfall, and just a bit like honey as well. His fingers begin to trace up and down your spine. And you feel your eyes beginning to grow heavy at the comfort of it all.

No one in your past has made you feel this way, but you force yourself to admit you may be growing a soft spot for Halsin.

[sky-kiss]

How about Tav being affectionate/playful with Raphael and him indulging it and secretly liking it :)

A/N: Super short. Have some soft boy.

Raphael x GN!Tav: Sassy said loving Raphael is like owning a feral cat. She’s right.

There’s a marked difference between absent touches and ones with intent. 

He notes it with no small amount of curiosity, sitting back at his desk, pondering instead of working. While the devil was not in the habit of oversimplifying mortal eccentricities, physicality has always been a…lumped sum, as it were. 

Most petitioners were looking to fuck him or a third party, and so what cause did he have to learn? Haarlep took care of his more carnal impulses. A rare indulgence on the side took care of any residual desire. 

And he’s so often busy. 

The problem, then, as is often the case, is Tav. 

The little idiot is tactile, always touching, always clinging. He awakens to them draped across his chest (unacceptable). They’ll brush his fingers with theirs as they move past. If he’s sitting, and they’ve business to attend to, Tav might wander past, never breaking stride, and kiss his forehead or caress his hair or horns. As far as he can divine, there is no intent. 

He demands an answer from them one evening, and the little idiot dares to laugh. 

“I don’t have any motivation, Raphael. It’s just nice to touch you.” 

“A nonanswer. Try again.”

They roll their eyes, standing and fisting their hand in the front of his doublet. It’s an indecorous move, but he’s too baffled by their presumptuousness to stop them. Tav pulls him close and kisses him. Just a brush of the lips. No intent, as they’d so irritatingly put it. They leave.

Everything about the situation frustrates his sense of order and control. He doesn’t understand. 

And the crux of the issue is there’s a very different, very acceptable (he will credit no more than that!) amount of pleasure from these little caresses. Tav might toy with his hair in the evening, fingers carding across his scalp, massaging the muscles at the base of his skull. They might wrap themselves around him in the afterglow. They’ll sit between his spread legs and request he read his work. 

It is…unknowable. Raphael is…puzzled. 

And so, he will keep the little mouse close. If only to solve this riddle. 

[bitter-caf]

I have a new fanfic idea I must share to the few people who have followed me in the last month. Hi hello hi. Feel free to use it if you'd like. It's just a ramble, so sorry if it's confusing.

I need more Werewolf!Charles Rowland aus. I need Charles pretending to be Crystals dog so he doesn't have to pay Jenny rent and he'd def beg Jenny for meat scraps. Or walking around London pretending to be a stray and desperately avoiding pet control. (The amount of times Edwin has had to break him out is ridiculous, but if Charles acts friendly/pathetic enough, people throw him food). And Edwin will pet him if he's an animal (but not as a human. Charles thinks this is discrimination and complains loudly). But also the angst, werewolves in media (btw I'm going off of teen wolf canon werewolves for this au) seem to have a harder time controlling their anger and I think with Charles so full of anger, it'd be rough for him. Charles would almost definitely be wanted by police at this point, both bc of the shit him and Edwin get up to and the fact that he's technically a missing kid (bc ofc he would run away with Edwin. Also if he went back home, he'd probably eat his father or at least the kids who tried to kill him). Edwin would for sure be Charles 'anchor' (again teen wolf werewolves), as in the thing that keeps him from going feral every full moon and from biting people everytime he gets upset lol. Tho! Note: imagine they come across a "how to contain a werewolf during the full moon" guide and it's everything Derek (from teen wolf, look it up if you have no idea what I'm talking about) does during the full moon for new wolves. The restraints, that are pretty painful and dig into the skin with spikes bc it's harder to get out of something if everytime you move, it hurts. And imgaine: Charles would accept it bc what if he hurts Edwin? Unacceptable. But Edwin would maybe try then back out of using them bc this is torture and he can't let this happen to Charles. Just a nice bit of hurt/comfort there.

Then port townsend comes along and now Charles bestie is pulling away/hiding things and so the grounds pretty unsteady under Charles. He's so ready to just eat the Cat King. And later Monty. The CK likes him even less in this au bc dogs vs cats and so does Charles. It's very much a Charles- "I'm bigger than you and will eat you" and CK- "I'm better and smarter than you". From first meeting, it on SIGHT for the both of them. Tho CK does make an effort to keep Edwin between them at all times. And Edwin does make an effort to keep an eye on Charles, ready to grab him if he lunges for CK or something. (Its worth noting that Charles does listen to the instincts he has pretty often and Edwin enables and encourages him to do what feels right. Neither of them have any experience with werewolves so it works out. Which often evolves into Charles chasing things that run from him. Animals, suspects they're chasing for cases, occasionally Edwin. I just think Charles dealing with all these new animal like instincts could create some fun hijinks and shenanigans.) I just think it'd be a fun dynamic for CK and Charles.

Now is Edwin still a ghost or something else like a vampire? Tbh this would turn into more of a Being Human au if Edwin was a vampire lol but more gay and posssibly poly? And I think that would be beautiful. But if Edwins a vampire, I want it to be what we do in the shadows type vampire. Edwin deserves to be able to turn into a bat. Along with all the other powers those vamps have lol. They'd have to bring a bag of dirt from Edwins homeland with them to Port townsend and just imagine the outfit Edwin would wear if he has to go out during daylight. It would include a parasol. He would not change his outfit with the times. Just picture, him forcing Crystal to use a parasol during the day so he can hang upside down in it to avoid the sun. Charles in his wolf form next to her. If Charles has to wear a leash and collar only Edwins allowed to hold it lol. Crystal trying to convince everyone who asks that Charles is just large husky and very well trained. Edwin would not pretend to be a pet to avoid paying Jenny rent but will wait outside Crystals window. If hes seen by Jenny in bat form, Crystal calls him a pest and says she left her window open by accident. Edwin will never forgive her.

I think in terms of Edwins Hell, it could still be actual Hell honestly. Maybe before he's sacrificed by classmates, he's attacked and turned into a vampire. Or! More exciting. He's turned by a vampire and that vampire belongs to a satanic vampire cult. Which is, in fact, a thing in the interview with a vampire verse. And his Hell is them. For context, in the IWAV verse, this cult believes they are forsaken by God and now have to worship the devil bc they're vamps. They think any light at all will kill/hurt them, even candles. Along with a bunch of other crazy untrue things. They literally live in caves in complete darkness and know pretty much nothing about being a vampire. It's pretty sad and in IWAV this goes on until I think lestat meets them and goes "damn you live like this?" And he becomes like their Jesus for awhile and shows them the "light". He upgrades them, but then he gets bored and leaves and they get sad. It's so funny i love Anne Rice. Anyways, either Edwins Hell he escapes is that cult or! They sacrifice vampire!Edwin to the devil. And now he's in actual Hell. In this au, the caves they live in are somewhere in the Woods near St. Hilarion's. So either way when he escapes, it's around the time Charles is attacked by those boys and when he's running thru the woods, attacked again! by a werewolf. Oh! Maybe Charles friends are mauled to death by the werewolf and the only reason Charles survives his mauling is bc of Edwin. Maybe Edwin scares off the werewolf and brings Charles to the attic or something to try and help him. Charles is def mauled but still breathing, the bite takes before he bleeds out tho. Its a really bad night for him but Edwin still reads him to sleep and is suprised he wakes up.

Now to deal with Edwin being immortal and Charles not? Either mess with the way werewolves age, or! More exciting. They stay together anyway, with the thought of charles- "I wanna stay with you for the rest of my life" and edwin- "i wanna stay with you for the rest of your life." Very cute very wholesome. But then! Charles gets cursed somehow someway on one of their cases and welll, immortality always seems to come to those who aren't looking for it. And so now charles can't die and doesn't age lol. But theres a consequence, bc theres always a trade off. My idea is that now Charles "will never see the light of day again". It takes a bit for them to realizes it's a curse of immortality until either Charles is greviously injured or like a decade passes and they're like "charles still looks... 17???" que rigorious experimentaion. (Charles would for sure test at least some of the limits of his immortality and then abuse it. Edwin is horrified everytime, his poor unbeating heart. And his clothes whenever he has to carry a still healing charles home and hes covered in blood. Luckily he doesnt die often, werewolves are hard to kill.) and honestly when they heard that "never see the light of day", they really thought it was going to kill Charles. No, now just as soon as the sun comes up, charles is dead to the world. Like literally he will just pass out as soon as the sun comes up, no matter where he is. It's like he's a corpse. It freaks Edwin out when this happens the first few times. He legit thinks charles is dead. He certainly seems like it. But he reanimates/awakens as soon as the sun goes down. He does forget often to lay down on the couch or something before the sun comes up and will just fall over. This is probs mostly bc the window is covered in blackout curtains for Edwin.

But they for sure have either a bed or coffin they share during the day, bc of a lack of room in their space for two ofc and it's soooo platonic bestie behavior. They will be taking no comments. Crystal still sleeps on the couch tho. Would you wanna sleep in two teenage boys' bed or coffin? When you're thinking "they're probably together." Like ew no. Charles offered, but edwin was like ew. They obv both have a good sense of smell, and edwin does not want their bed/coffin to smell like her.

[kaija-rayne-author]

OMG I'm laughing so hard at someone calling me names because I dared post that I had to unfollow people who were toxicly positive about Veilguard and being twats about it to others.

Again, I'm truly happy for you if you liked it. I didn't. You shockingly don't have to be an asshole to others about it. Nor do you need to shit on something other people loved simply because checks notes, some stranger on the internet said that they didn't want to follow people being toxically positive about something you liked. Oooookay then. 🤣

It's a video game. A piece of entertainment. It's fiction.

If you get so worked up over someone else's (a strangers!) opinion that you're slinging ad hominem attacks, maaaaaybe it's time to I dunno, do literally anything else?

Especially trying to get any response but laughter or blocking out of someone like me who has lived through so much that if I talk about even a fraction of it, people go all owl eyed and universally ask in a quiet, shocked tone 'how are you even alive?'

Legit can't stop laughing. 🤣

Update

So, I freely admit that I'm in a bad mood and broke my rule about feeding the trolls. I shall do my due internet denizen duty and block/report.

In all responsibility, while laughing at a troll can be a good tool, it risks escalation, and it's really better to simply block and report. They get their jollies by making people feel horrible. (I wasn’t laughing out of trying to feed a troll BTW. They legitimately shocked me into laughing. I wasn't in a good enough mood to hide my reaction.)

They've either deleted or hidden their responses to me. It's just a crying shame that screenshots are forever. Y'all might want to preemptively block. Up to you.

If they hadn’t been so utterly awful, I'd probably have let it slide. But this behavior is unacceptable in a society.

Transcript since it won't fit in alt text.

Lilithfairen

So you're just a raging asshole who can't stand people enjoying a game you didn't. You should let people know that when you follow them so anyone with common sense can block you the moment they see you around.

Masked responder

That's not what OP said lmao

Me

Oh, honey. You're precious (laugh emoji) Go try to gaslight and sea lion someone else. In your vast amounts of time where you're not being a dick to a stranger, perhaps you should consider brushing up on that 'reading comprehension' thing. I gather it's not your highest skill. Maybe put a few skill points in that.

Me replying to masked responder

Right? (Laugh emoji) Just posting on my own wall, about a Fandom problem that they very clearly demonstrated an excellent example of, and *I'm* the asshole. I'm laughing so fucking hard I'm almost crying.

lilithfairen

Oh, not gaslighting anyone. Because a quick check tells me you're a BG3 stan, which highlights why you don't like Veilguard and the people who enjoy it. Veilguard doesn't write queer people as sexual predator. Veilguard doesn't get off on victimizing non-white people or writing them as innately evil and savage. Veilguard doesn't write a storyline where a goddess is a prop to paint a white guy as awesome and smart and then written as a horrible bitch herself. You're a garbage shitstain of a person who can't stand Veilguard not being a game written for straight white manbaby sensibilities, because you think that's what good fiction is.

Me. Oh, do please keep responding (laugh emoji) you're amusing me and exposing your ignorance nicely. Have you considered therapy? It might help with that whole ... hatred of everyone who isn't me... thing, you have going on. I actually can't stop laughing at the loads of shit you're shoveling. I hope you're getting a decent wage for that. Shoveling shit is hard work.

I did say I wasn't in a good mood.

Anyway... because I'm me... pretty sure a lot of people who play Dragon Age games also play BG3. And liked both. It's not an either or. People can shockingly like both! While accepting that there's no such thing as a perfect game/book/movie/show/anything.

I know several people I'm on good terms with who absolutely loved Veilguard. I didn't, but it's not their problem. I don't make it their problem.

Veilguard doesn't write queer people well. Period. (I'm a queer AF author and editor.)

"Doesn't get off on victimizing non-white people or writing them as innately evil and savage." *blinks*. 'Who do we put across from Harding for a death choice. "Assan."' -John Epler (Not the whole Black man attached to the bloody griffin. The griffin.) That doesn't even get into what having the only Black male companion being part of that choice in the first place says. (Pssst. It's not good.)

Um... the Qunari have long been PoC coded and what they did to the Qunari in Veilguard is nothing short of writing them as innately evil and savage. Seriously? Truly shocked by that one. Taash's first romance scene is really problematic, too.

"A storyline where a goddess is a prop to paint a white guy as awesome?" Did they even play BG3? I've played it 5x and have no idea what they're on about there. And Vlakkith has always been a bitch. (I've been playing D&D since 2E. Is it problematic? Fuck yes.) I guess female and woman presumed people aren't allowed to be evil. Who knew?

Snorts. I'm not white, not a man, definitely not straight, and good fiction is my actual job.

As far as the ad hominem attacks. (Sad head shake) Dirthara-ma, da'len.

All that in response to this post of mine.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for wanting to skip out on one sports event to spend time with family????

I 22F have been playing this sport for over 6 years and have worked my ways to the top ( I'm mean full nationals clothes)

I have been to every and I'm mean every sport event that they have asked of me in these 6 years. Never taken off never missed a practice even when I'm sick.

Now this weekend that is coming my family wants to fo away on a little vacation it is the only time my father has off from work and my Lil sis doesn't have another sport event. But I sadly do. Soo I made the decision to skip out on this weekends event to spend some time with my family.(also side note this was a quickly planned thing like 2 days ago we decided to)

I let the club manager(59 F) know that I wouldn't be making it. And what does she message back to me??????

"*my name* this is unacceptable."

Only gonna quote that cause the rest is just going on and on about why they can't find my replacement in this short amount of time or that I could've let her know earlier.(Also wanna clarify my team can hold themselves in the event they have 20+ years of experience being 40M 65M and 67F and with age comes problems and I'm not nearly as good as they were in they young years. They also said its alright if I don't make it)

Then in he last sentences she says some dumb shot about me about if you play the sport you should dedicate your life to it no matter what. And I understand that but this is the first time I did it.

Just with her attitude I'm beginning to she what a real asshole she can be.

I'm still going with my family this weekend but does it make me the bad guy???

AITA??????

(Also didn't reread this soo don't mind the spelling errors)

What are these acronyms?